(20): Whatever Happened to Class?

(20) is-- and I don't quite believe it, either-- today: Tuesday 26 January, 2010

Today, I had my first class at Paris VII. Translated to English, it's called "The Paradox of Comedy in the Cinema." This is what we call an L3 course... have I explained the French university system yet? No? Brilliant.

In France, there is no SAT. All French high school (and IB) students take the Baccalaureate exam at the end of high school. It's cumulative of everything ever, but pass it, and you graduate, pass go, collect $200 (about 4.50 in euros), and show up to Paris VII on the first day. Now, since the college didn't have the SAT to weed people out for them, they have to do it themselves. The 'L1' classes compose the first year of the university's concise, no-dabbling, 3-year program, and it is these classes that serve as the litmus test. Thus, I'm taking second-semester L3's. If I were French, I'd be in scoffing distance of a diploma right now.

SO. My comedy in cinema class was actually more like a Vassar film class than I thought it would be... the professor stood at the front of the lecture hall, mumbled, didn't quite know how to work the technology, showed clips of relevant films, and invited students to give their input. The only differences:

--Roughly 40 students

--It was all in French

--It was 3 hours

--Best I could tell, not much homework... how 'bout that...

I then headed over to Reid Hall for my VWPP film class, which is supposed to be a combination of philosophy and film theory. This was a very surreal experience; we watched The Searchers-- well, not really watched, since the professor picked one part he thought was important (the opening credits?) and stopped at least once per second to point something out. So, here I am at 5 in the afternoon watching (as best I can) the opening credits to an American classic* with running French commentary coming from a guy who looks a little too much like Emperor Palpatine from Star Wars. Bright side: he definitely knows his stuff and doesn't seem to be too big on homework, either.

Since this hasn't been my most creative or entertaining entry, I can at least claim it was short. Oh, and since you haven't had your per-entry French lesson...

"Pedestrian"-- you know, those annoying things that get in your way while you drive?-- is "piéton" in French. Boy, is that an ironic explanation on my part...

-Andy

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Footnotes... er, Footnote. Because there's only one. Yes.

* The same one I've now studied three semesters in a row... Though, I have to admit, it did feel a little like home.

(15-17): Andy Has Many Recommendations, No Clever Title

Okay-- the great thing about naming my blog after (500) Days of Summer is that I'm totally entitled to non-linear storytelling.

(15) is Thursday, 21 January 2010

After wandering a bit, Rhiannon, Yael, Liz, and I got lunch at Paul, a very good sandwich and pastry shop... they're a European chain, actually, with many locations in Paris, London, and more. This one was right by the Cluny Museum (about the middle ages) and, predictably, the Cluny-Sorbonne metro stop. Good sandwiches, great strawberry tarts and éclairs.

Some more wandering and a layover at Reid Hall later, we moved on to one of the final VWPP orientation events: a chocolate tasting at Chocolaterie et Dragésterie Girard, a chocolate store that makes all of its goods on-site at 5, rue de la Tacherie on Ile-de-la-Cite. Our arrangement for the afternoon worked like this: Walk in the door, and they serve you a cup of what may be the best hot chocolate I've ever had (though, granted, I haven't yet made it to the nearby Angelina on Rue de Rivoli)... rich, sweet (without killing those with lesser sweet teeth than mine), and smells even better than it tastes. They also had a tray of various chocolates... fillings were so gourmet-good that I didn't even know what they were (funny how that works), including one that I could only describe as "the official Butterfinger of God."* They then took us downstairs and showed us all the machines and their entire process of manufacturing each chocolate.**

That evening, a bunch of us united on our beloved Rue Mouffetard for Becky's birthday dinner. We found a spanish place called Casa Pépé (on the street, near the top of the hill), which was a little pricey for us students, but by no means cher (French for "expensive"... very useful, as you can imagine). We all shared great Paella, I had a very good steak (12 euros) with this sauce on the side that, looking back, may have been salad dressing, but it was still really good with the meat. Also noteworthy here are the myriad objects and oddstudies that decorate the walls, the decent live music and flamenco dancer, and hysterically funny restaurant owner (Pépé, in case you didn't see that one coming) who started to do his shtick for the whole (intimately sized) restaurant at about 10 o'clock. And we may have snuck in our own wine (hard to say for sure, though... still waiting on the Florida polls).

(16) is Friday, 22 January 2010

Berthillon. Ice cream. Pretty much any restaurant on Ile-de-la-cite serves it, but it's cheapest at their parlor across the bridge (and then a block further) from the Pont Marie metro. Nobody else does fruit flavors this well... Passion Fruit, Strawberry, and Pear are good, and others await taste-testing.

Biggest item of the day was a cheese tasting which essentially took the place of dinner. It was at la Fermerie (37 rue Carnot, in Levallois Perret, a suburb to the northwest of Paris: metro Louise-Michel). Ten different cheeses from the various "cheese families" (of which 'chevre' is one) on bread and accompanied by good wine. Also paid-for by the program. I took notes on my impressions on the various cheeses, which became increasingly incoherent as the night went on. Compare my notes on the second one, which was in French, "plus doux, moins pungent que le premier" (in English, "sweeter and less pungent than the first") to number eight: "Goat cheese is an acquired taste."*** Still, a great night and a filling degustation ("tasting" in English).

(17) is Saturday, 23 January 2010

Today was the last orientation event: a day trip outside of Paris to see two chateaux. The first, the Royaummont Abbey, was nice, but it was raining and cold and January, so we couldn't enjoy the gardens or woods. We walked around and saw the gothic inside for about 45 minutes, guided by an art history professor working for the VWPP. By the time this was over, we got back on the bus and found lunch.

Oh my goodness: this lunch.

This lunch was at none other than the Hippodrome, a famous horse racing track. We were treated by the program (read: parents/financial aid) to lunch at a haute-cuisine (3 stories off the ground is pretty haute, right?) place with a great view of the track (even if it was pretty January outside). We started with a quiche that I don't even know what was in it (the same things they put in the chocolates, for all I know), but it was really good. Even the salad managed to agree with me somehow. Second course was whitefish (salmon? I'm not really sure) in this incredible sauce which itself contained mussels and little shrimps. Delicious. There was couscous as well. Then dessert: a patty (right word?) of ginger ice cream paired with a bit of orange gelatin and delicious creme de chantilly.**** Finally, coffee (which I handed off to somebody else) and little rich chocolates (which I didn't; in fact, I scored another one in exchange for the coffee). Between the view, a table with my pals, the excellent food, and no expense out-of-pocket, that may have been the single best lunch I've ever had.

The afternoon took us to the Chateau de Chantilly right nearby. Beautiful place, but I could have done without the continued (and continuous) commentary by the art history professor. We'd all gotten up pretty early, so our collective energy was starting to lag (this adversely affects interpretation of languages, like French, English, and Swahili). Not to mention that I'm always more content to just look in places like this, anyway. Still, a beautiful chateau with a lot of artworks that are prohibited by law to leave their galleries.

It's over!

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Footnotes

* Turns out that filling was caramel. Like I said... gourmet.

** Unfortunately, you can't have everything on these visits: Lucy and Ethel were out sick that day.

***#9: "Chlorine???"

****French for "whipped cream." Incidentally, we were right next to the Chantilly Chateau, which would be our next stop.

(14): l'Esprit de Paris

(14) is Wednesday, 20 January 2010

Title, in English: "The Spirit of Paris"

Fact: Organizing college students to do things in Paris is difficult.

Fact: The later it is, the more difficult it is.

Problem: I slept in on Wednesday.

Problem: I'm developing a habit of getting lost.

But anyway, I did eventually find my friends Rhiannon (yes, like the Fleetwood Mac song) and Yael (no, not like the university. Wait... you could tell that by reading it, couldn't you...). We wandered a bit in the 5e* arrondissement and found the Rue de Mouffetard (which, you'll be glad to know, is a block from the Place Monge metro stop on line 7). Until you visit it yourself, you'll only get glimpses of why I've recommended this entire charming street.

Here, we found a great little cafe with old mirrors and fun French people (many in berets and taking painting lessons that happened to be going on there that day). Here's a sign of how I've embraced price inflation: 2e50 (2 euros and 50 centimes... I realize that looks a lot like the 5e notation) for a hot chocolate is not a bad deal. We strolled this charming little cobblestoned rue some more and found all manner of pastry shops (patisseries) and affordable restaurants (we're talking 10 euros per person for dinner).

There's also a bowling alley. David Adler, you better be reading this and sharing my joy. To find it, you go through this neat little courtyard just off the beaten path and down two flights of stairs**, and the place is actually pretty nice. And affordable: as a student, you can get two games, shoes, and a drink for less than 13e (a drink at most bars here costs more than half that). We haven't gotten to bowl yet, but we will. They're open until 2 AM.

So, we strolled a while and noted how rife the street is with possibilities. This was just a scouting mission; we would be back later. For the time being, the three of us walked back to more bustling Paris, where we found a great patisserie (and I'm kicking myself for not having written the name down... I'll get it for you; I promise) and later found our way to the incomparable Pierre Hermé (72 Rue Bonaparte 75006 Paris, metro Saint-Sulpice). This may be the best gourmet sweet shop in the world. Chocolates, cakes, macaroons-- this is so haute-...whatever that they have introduced the concept of seasonal lineups-- like fashion lineups?-- into the world of things that cost a lot of money but taste really, really good. Those Macaroons are a good example, actually... I got a chocolate, two vanilla ('cause I'm me), and a "rose" one. Didn't know what that was, but I tried it later and... I was in a place. "Transcendental" doesn't do it justice; like, I took that first bite, and then I turned to Heath Ledger and we talked for a good five minutes*** and then I was back again. Anyway, point is: Pierre, Macaroons, buy, love.

We then decided to go see a movie; it was Wednesday, so a new batch had just come out (like Friday in the U.S.). We saw a movie about famous French singer and pianist Serge Gainsbourg; it was good. I still didn't understand that much of it (neither did Heath, so at least I had company), but it was much more creative than the average biopic because they were trying to capture the myth of Gainsbourg more than his life. He had sort of a puppet alter-ego who helped him, which I'm sure reads kinda' weird, but it definitely saved the movie from being just another dull award nominee. Then we got crepes and sandwiches for late dinner and went home.

This was my Parisian day... from a cafe to a favorite street to haute-cuisine to a movie about a French icon to crepes... everything I did today, I felt very Parisian while doing it.

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* "Fifth" and other adjectives denoting number are abbreviated "th" in the united states (like "5th"), but by "e" in France (hence "5e"). That's because "fifth" = "cinquième," and the same principle of abbreviation applies. I think that's neat. I also think I'm becoming a language nerd.

** Bowling and a bomb shelter-- who says the Cold War wasn't fun!

*** Mostly about golf

(12-13): Little By Little

(12) is Monday, 18 January 2010

(13) is-- predictably-- Tuesday, 19 January 2010

This week has been sort of a false start in terms of the true immersion part of the program... they told me my classes started on Monday, but my trips to Paris VII early this week told me otherwise. The long and short of that is I also had this week free to see Paris with friends (meaning I essentially got my winter break back with interest and a good exchange rate). I'm told I got all the classes I want, so I now have a good sense of my academic schedule: one 2- or 3-hour class per day Monday-Thursday, unless I want to double up on Tuesdays and then not have class on Thursday. Either way, my proud tradition of 3+day weekends continues, and only if I double up will I have class before noon.

As for Paris VII itself... "utilitarian" only begins to describe it. The main classroom building has hallways and stairs exposed to the outside (so they only have to heat classrooms and minimal pockets of hallway). No power outlets that I could observe from peeking into a lecture hall (handwritten notes, after all), and nothing in the way of student cafes or even a vending machine. Closest you get to Vassar's Retreat or any other student center are some small clearings with tables and chairs (surely meant for study only) in the administrative building right next door. That's where all the bureaucratic stuff happens and a few more classrooms are located. Library's also there.

I really should start putting up pictures, shouldn't I...

But the point is, even now I'm getting a roughly-sketched sense of how this whole French school thing is going to go. More on this next week.

The other big event these two days was my host father's birthday on Monday. They had dinner at the house and invited extended family over... I basically smiled, spoke some French, and took a lot of rounds of the compliment "Tu parles très bien!"* Dinner itself was something I'd never seen before in the States... there's a hot plate at the center of the table, a plate of meat passed around, and you cook the meat yourself on the hotplate. It was actually pretty good... go figure. I followed a projected 50% of the conversation** and they were all very nice.

I'm also noticing that my understanding of French is getting better. Not just I that I'm understanding more and more of what I hear, but there's an important distinction about languages I don't think most teachers ever explain. I think a big part of this immersion experience and mastering French language has been coming to understand French on its own terms. I'll explain.

Learning a language is so much more than "how do you say outdoors in French?" or "what do you call a party foul?"*** Now, as I've demonstrated in recent entries, much of this does work, and it's crucial to making your foreign speech functional. But, every so often, teachers or websites will tell you (rightly) that there really is no good equivalent for a word or term in the other language (here's a fun example: "nuc" in French is "back of the head" in English... do you know a one-word equivalent?).

If a language could be translated word-for-word into another, it would be pointless. It wouldn't be a translation; it would be a set of synonyms, bringing (almost) nothing new to the table.

The reason we have different languages is because they do different things well. For instance, the difference between addressing somebody with a formal pronoun ("Parlez-vous francais?") or an informal one ("Parles-tu francais?") doesn't make much sense in the U.S., where having many casual friends (nay, "acquaintances") is normal. You may not see a high school friend for the rest of your life after you graduate, and that's fine. But this dynamic fits very well in a society where social interactions are more formal and one's friendships are fewer, but expected to last a lifetime. When interpersonal relationships are more cut-and-dry than awkwardly wondering where you stand with somebody, that jump from "vous" to "tu" turns subtext into text.

I guess my point is that it's really all about taking the language and loving it for what it is. Chances are, those peculiarities and anomalies that make no sense are probably your best clues toward other things that, once understood, will really make you at home in this language and the culture with which its symbiotically involved.

On a somewhat-related note, getting into a new language takes a lot out of you. This was much worse last week, but living your life in another language is hard. I mentioned that my French capacities would be exhausted by the end of the day, but there's more than that. Doing even mundane things (like purchases) takes a consistent (and consistently larger) mental effort throughout the day. For your next long-term stay in country with a foreign language, remember this: even more than for jet lag, take it easy for a while to accommodate language lag.

So, my French isn't perfect and my daily activities still land me squarely in the category of tourist (an often-exhausted one), but I think little by little I'm plugging in over here.

-Andy

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Footnotes

*"You speak very well!"

**Hard to say for sure; we're still waiting for the Florida polls.

***For those of you who need that one in English, it's something socially unacceptable, but only because it's in a designated party setting. Let's take a popular example. Contrary to what you might think, crashing a White House party just means you've mastered the skills set forth in Wedding Crashers. This is not a party foul. What is a party foul is (even accidentally) spilling your drink. What's worse is spilling your drink on Obama's shoes. Worst of all? Doing that as a fellow Democrat, because you have thus committed a political party foul.

(8-10): Tourist Week, Pt. 2

Act II of a musical usually opens with a number that either refreshes the audience or has nothing to do with the plot... I'm told it's so that people getting back late from intermission won't miss anything and so that whoever is seated can gradually get back into the swing of things.

Well, this isn't a musical. On Thursday, after class and sandwiches, a few of us went to the Pompidou Center. It was today that we made a fantastic discovery. Reid Hall has given us these Student ID cards (because a passport, a visa, and an International Student ID weren't enough) and they don't fit in our wallets. What they do, however, is identify us all as students of Art History-- which means-- we have free access to art museums in Paris. That said, with unlimited museum access and pre-paid unlimited metro, we can go to any of the best museums in Paris (that is, some of the best museums in the world) that we want, anytime we want, for free. In a country with no Smithsonian and running on the Euro, this is a big deal.

It's also good because spending money on the Pompidou center would have made me cry a little. It's modern art... I didn't really get it... There was a dress made out of meat...

We then tried to go to an exhibit on Miles Davis that the program was paying for, but we got there JUST after Tenimba, the program person who takes care of all the logistical stuff and leads these sponsored outings, bought the tickets. Apparently our text or call to somebody else in the group to tell Tenimba we were coming didn't quite make it through. So, we decided to forget itand wander around the northern part of the city, not far from the famous bohemian epicenter, Montmartre. We didn't find much, but there was a kosher pastry shop: Le Relais Sucre (135 Rue Manin, 75019 Paris). We finally found our way to Sacré Coeur, the famous basilica with the more famous hilltop view of Paris. Once again, great timing on our part put us at the top at 7:00 sharp to see the Tour Eiffel from afar (oh, boy, the tower-on-the-hour again! And he's still not telling-- Is that Andy a master of suspense, or WHAT!).

Friday was a small masterpiece... we actually had destinations that day! First up was lunch at L'As du Falafel ("The Ace of Falafel") at 34 Rue de Rosiers in the Jewish neighborhood. This was supposed to be the best falafel in Paris, and starting at 5 euros a person (unless you want meat or other stuff).

So, it turns out I don't like falafel...?

Anyway, we then found our way to the Place des Voges, a very picturesque square park surrounded by very picturesque square apartments. One of these belonged to Victor Hugo. We visited it. The apartment itself is interesting, but the first floor of the exhibit is just a LOT of pictures of Hugo and his family (or something). Interesting to see, glad it was free.

On the way to the next stop, we made a brief but necessary unplanned one: 87 Rue Antoine (Metro: St-Paul on line 1) to get pastries at Miss Manon. I had a caramel éclair that redefined what it means for something to taste good.

That next stop, by the way, was another incredible one: the Musee d'Orsay just on the Seine. That's the one that used to be a train station but now shows off art*. Good thing, because this is a great collection... a lot of impressionism (that means it looks more like what it's supposed to when you stand back about 5 or 6 feet), post-impressionism (that means it's got lots of color dots, needs about 6-8 feet distance, and Stephen Sondheim may or may not have written a flop on the subject).

This is what you get when your guide to Paris opted not to take Art History.

In all seriousness, though, the colors were all very striking, and there was some other neat stuff, like a room about psychedelic art and 1960s and 1970s album covers (including many you music-lovers would know and love). It's also just a great building... I took many pictures (you can absolutely do that here, by the way-- no flash, no problem**). It's still a great old train station.

The other great thing about the museum is that, if you don't dwell more than a few minutes in one place (I don't like to), you can get through the museum in two hours and see mostly everything (I do like to). We then went back to Reid Hall for a Gallette du Roi (see days 3-4 for details) at 6:30.*** There, we met a few French students from nearby high schools and universities.

Later that night, some of us met up with some of those French university students and went out to a bar at Bastille (also a famous tourist site). It's sort of what the area is known for... pretty hip, and definitely worth checking out. A tad pricey, but I like it a lot better than the (few) bars I've been to in the U.S., where you paid too much for a drink and just stood around trying to yell over everybody trying to yell over everybody else trying to yell over you. Here, while it was still noisy, the bar itself was geared toward giving you and your friends a table to sit down and maybe have an actual conversation. The drinks were actually pretty good, too.

Only problem with the metro: it stops at midnight (and I do mean stops: whatever the next stop is, your train will kick you off and then turn into a pumpkin... I'm told that's fun to watch, and helps take the edge off the inconvenience of finding a bus or taxi). Runs until 2 on Friday and Saturday.

Speaking of Saturday, I slept in, so I got a late start headed toward the Catacombs (Denfert-Rochereau metro station, line 6). This wasn't helped any by the fact that I got lost maybe two or three times trying to find the HSBC that's supposed to be a block away from my house (still haven't seen it). Eventually gave up, grabbed a croissant and apple tart (I mean, what else can you do, really?), and went to the catacombs. Although I do know now where I can find the Renault car factory, should the hour of need ever strike.

It drizzled consistently today. Very moody.

I got to the catacombs too late to join my friends and I didn't care that much, so I walked the area a little. I found a long side street whose stores formed a neat market (probably pricey, though I didn't look). When I finally decided to seek the exit to the catacombs, I got lost another few times (the map sucked and didn't match the street names), so that took me a good hour or so (and drizzle makes getting lost so much better...****). But all's well that ends well, I guess, because I eventually found my friends, an HSBC, and a movie theater. We saw a family farce called Une petite zone de turbulences (Loosely translated to English, "A Brief Turbulent Period"). It was actually pretty funny, and I'm sure it would have been hysterical if I had understood more than every fourth word. I mean, come on-- the guy's wife was played by an actress named Miam-Miam. How can you lose???

We then found our way back to Bastille for dinner and, after a not-so-brief indecisive period, we had Italian at a place right on the Bastille circle. A little pricey, but very tasty pizza. We then tried to catch another movie, but the last showings for movies are all around 10 in this city... so, we wandered around the Chatelet area where we were on Tuesday (see Days 5-7). It was nice... just me and my friends, low-key, not a lot of people, still drizzling...

Only Paris can make rain look good.

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* It's also the setting, I believe, for that famous college bookstore poster with the train coming out of the broken window. You know the one: its caption reads "OH, SHIT!" No? Fine, here: http://www.amazon.com/Oh-Shit-Train-Wreck-Poster/dp/B000WYJW3K.

** As it should be: this is an exposition, not an exhibition, for goodness sake!

*** Interesting note: over here, clocks tend to be in 24-hour format. So, more often than not, you'll have a 3-hour class that goes from 11h30 until 14h30, rather than 11:30AM-2:30PM. The 'h' stands for heures, your per-entry French lesson for "hours."

**** Although Drizzle may be the best baby name ever.*****

***** And, yes, this is a footnote-within-a-footnote. Probably illegal. But I wanted to add that that is, in fact a reference to something. Major bonus points if you can tell me what.

(5-7): Tourist Week, Pt. 1

So, I was thinking, what if I wrote this next entry as a rap?

Then I chuckled and continued writing.

Despite the Act I/Act II format, I'm essentially lumping this past week together. And I feel okay about that because each day's formula was basically the same:

--Wake up at 7:30

--Eat breakfast at the house

--Commute to Reid Hall

--Class from 9:30-12:30

--Get lunch with a few VWPP friends

--Stick with those friends (or maybe change the combination slightly as the day wore on) for adventures to various museums, cafes, restaurants, movies, tourist sites, and other adventures.

--Go home (sometimes in time for dinner) and crash.

I call this "tourist week" because it's that unique time in the semester when we're enough on our feet to find our way around, but still enough in orientation to be together as a group every day and do stuff in the afternoons. Basically, this week was the vacation I felt slightly jipped out of by flying away on January 7.

I want to share a few thoughts about the metro, since I've gotten really familiar with it this week. It's very reliable, with trains coming every two minutes and going virtually anywhere you could want to go. If you buy a monthly pass, you have unlimited access to the system until the end of the month. Here's what you get: not having to think about money each time you swipe in and simple mobility to wherever you want to go each time you want to go there. If you suddenly get an idea for an activity, you can just go there and do it. The cost of failure for exploring new places, therefore, is very low.

Connected to that theme, I commuted this week for, really, the first time in my life. From Marcel Sembat to Raspail (in context here: http://www.ratp.info/orienter/cv/carteparis.php) is pretty far.* The upside is that, after the first half of the trip (transfer at Trocadéro), 6-line goes elevated for a good, long stretch. You get a gorgeous view of the Eiffel Tower, the Seine, Invalides, and many tall residential buildings with thousands of balconies altogether. Gotta' love those balconies.

Classes were not that bad... half was necessary grammar review (when was the last time YOU reviewed the subjunctive?) and half was culture exercises of varying usefulness. For example, useful: giving us handouts on French slang. Useless: making us devise social slogans modeled on "Liberté, Égalité, Fraternité" and making us explain why these made an ideal society. Just to give you an idea of how fed up we were, my partner and I came up with one for a society of dinosaurs.**

Hey! My first restaurant recommendation is coming up! These will always be in bold, and their entries will be tagged "Recommendation." This way, if you're looking for them, my blog instantly transforms from blog to tourist guide. Just like Transformers, only better-written.

We found a hole-in-the-wall place that makes decent baguette sandwiches pretty cheap (3,50 euros which-- last time I checked the exchange rate-- is about how much Obama promised to give to Haiti). It's at a little clearing where Rue de Vavin and Rue de Bréa come together, just off of the major boulevard Montparnasse. Not a must, but cheap and pretty good if you happen to be in the area.

Monday... a bunch of us just got on the metro and started exploring. We wandered around Le Bon Marché (famous department store at the Sèvres-Babylone metro) and its giant gourmet food store counterpart. No purchases... just some Vitamin Water samples, some ooh-ing and aah-ing, and a rendition of "Foux de Fa Fa," the French song from Flight of the Conchords.***

We then wandered all the way to an EXCELLENT pâtisserie called Poilâne at 8 rue du Cherche-Midi, Paris 75006, or you can go to their website: http://www.poilane.fr/. Go out of your way to find this one, folks. From there, we wandered some more very quaint streets, eventually found our way to the Seine, where we crossed over to the Louvre Pyramid, but were too tired to go in. So, we went home.

Tuesday greeted me with some Reid Hall housekeeping stuff, but I think I'll have all the classes I want at Reid Hall and Paris VII, so that's fine. Even if it meant I also had to sit through a lecture on how you need to be perfect for your host families or they will hate you.**** The program took us to the movies later; we saw a new French film called "Le Siffleur" (English: "The Whistler" and don't say I never taught you anything). Basically, a white-collar mobster in Nice tries to muscle a restaurant out of its property to finish... a gated beach community? Yes, the bad guy's dramatic problem is that he doesn't have the right papers to build. You didn't need to understand French to know this one wasn't going to Cannes.

Afterward, a few of us had dinner in a miss-able restaurant near Chatelet (that station is where the most metro lines come together... also a big underground shopping mall near there). But dinner was fine... not at all bad, and we got to sit and chat and listen to... Lady Gaga? We then went to see the Eiffel Tower, because Becky had never seen it before. We were on the train passing it at 9:00 sharp (if you don't know why tower-on-the-hour is cool, I won't spoil it), which made for a great tracking shot (yes, I'm still a film major, in case you were worried).

Wednesday was actually my day off, in a sense, because I had an upset stomach in the morning and didn't go to Reid Hall. I felt fine by noon, with a little more sleep and a little less tap water. While I did get to catch up on a great episode of House, I was aching to rejoin the group for Thursday, Friday, Saturday, and beyond.

Intermission!

* Given Paris VII's location near the southeast edge the city (metro: Bibliothèque-François Mitterand) and my location in the southwest, that's not likely to change.

** "Liberté, Égalité, Fraternité" --> "Size, Power, RAWR!"

*** I would explain this for uninitiated readers, but chances are that if you don't already know this show, you probably won't be able to appreciate it.

**** In my case at least, that's actually a total lie. My host family's rules are: 1.) If there's anything that will make my life easier, I should ask them for it. 2.) I should speak English with the kids so their English improves. 3.) Do what you feel, and don't feel bad about it. ...If anything, they want me to be less formal (this coming from French people, no less).

(3-4): The Family

January 9, 2010 (Saturday) and January 10, 2010 (Sunday)

Previously on '(215) Days of Europe'...

...Andy went to France!

...He met cool Vassar-Wesleyan Paris Program kids!

...He stayed at a hostel for two days!

...Foreman got the cop's illness, and then the cop died! (Wait... sorry, wrong series)

...Andy got in a taxi leaving the hostel...

...

It is at this point in our story we take a break from the Vassar-Wesleyan scene to find Andy in a small, but still bustling, town just to the southwest of Paris called Boulogne-Billancourt. It's time to meet the family.

My host family is, in a word, wonderful. Mother, father, two boys, and a cat named Boo.

The boys are both adorable. They were a little under the weather on Saturday, but have been doing better since. The younger is 9 and plays piano* and rugby (playing for a team at probably the most esteemed rugby school in France). The older is 11, already in love with Marilyn Monroe, and plays golf. Both of them are learning English in school, and while I'm getting a better ear for it, they still speak French just a little too fast and not quite clearly enough for me to understand them all the time.

The father is a swim coach in Paris and knows a good deal about film; we've already had a good number of warm conversations about our favorites. Very personable, always smiles, and dresses very French. The mother has a good amount of English (which is quite useful at night, when my daily rations for speaking French correctly have been exhausted). She's an interior designer and always wants me to speak up if I need something, if I haven't eaten enough, etc.**

And Boo is an all-star. His meows always have great comic timing.

My room is also pretty great... I have a good-sized bed, a solid (as opposed to liquid or gaseous?) radiator that keeps the room pretty warm, a kitchenette where I hope to apply cooking lessons that I plan on taking later in the semester, and my own bathroom and (small) shower. There's also reliable wifi (remember, that's "wee-fee") here, and I have my own exit outside. I'm also about two blocks away from the metro. It's great: immeasurably better than what I had been expecting.

So, I spent Saturday getting settled and taking a walk around the town briefly with my host father and the older brother. There's a decent-sized mall with some pretty nice stores, a movie theatre, and more. There's a decent amount of money here, and the town is, like I said, just on the edge of the nation's capital.

I've moved from Bethesda, MD to Bethesda, France.

Anyway, that was Saturday. On Sunday, I slept in, put away my clothes, and my host mother, the younger brother, and I went to an exhibit*** about Brigitte Bardot, France's answer to Marilyn Monroe. She was a (very attractive) movie star who got her start in the French New Wave film Et Dieu... crea la femme (And God... Created Woman). We also went to a party for the younger brother's rugby team. It was a Gallette du Roi, a French new years' tradition where a special kind of cake (buttery, with a twist of lemon flavor, I want to say...?) is made and there's a little plastic toy baked into the cake somewhere. If your slice has it, you get to be king ("roi" in French, which rhymes with "moi") and wear a crown. I had heard about something similar in the U.S. as a Mardi Gras tradition, but maybe I'm wrong. Somebody can earn bonus points by researching and getting back to me.

After these events, the older brother, host mother, and I went for a drive around Paris to see all of the Christmas lights on many of the grand Avenues in Paris... Champs-Elysees, Opera, and more. There were some very neat lighting schemes, and it was fun to see the city by night. Also, these displays would be taken down the next day, so it was a unique opportunity.

There's also this thing going on in the first week I've been here-- makes for an interesting cultural note-- and those are sales ("soldes") in stores. Seems pretty mundane for the U.S., but then I take a closer look at the title of this blog and I remember that that is not, alas, where I am. In France, there are two week-long periods each year specified by the government when stores can have sales, which they can't do any other time. It's a trick to jump-start/regulate the economy, and as a loophole, there are "promotions" right afterward if the "soldes" don't quite achieve the expected results.

The family is also really good at helping me learn French (I heard that has something to do with why I'm here)... they often stop and ask if I know what a particular term means (I rarely do), they speak clearly, and they think that I "express myself perfectly" in French. We're off to a very good start.

So: two days with VWPP, two days with the family. Next time, a case of 'both sides now.'

-Andy

* I'll occasionally hear Scott Joplin's "The Entertainer" followed by "La Marseillaise," the French national anthem.

**And she's Jewish.

***Here's a fun translation pitfall. A museum exhibition, in French, is an "exposition," not an "exhibition." The difference is whether you're showing off art to the public, or something else that the police will arrest you for not keeping to yourself.

(2): Reid Hall

This entry took place on Friday, January 8, 2010. If I ever actually post something on the day it happened, I won't bother to give the date because I think the blog will do that for me. This is, however, unlikely. Also, so that it doesn't throw you when you get to it, I'm introducing endnotes (yeah, I know how to write papers!) in an effort to structure my ramblings. If you see a (*), (**), etc., look to the end of the entry to waste your time on how I expound on the point.

I spent today (Friday: I know it's complicated) mostly at Reid Hall, the academic home base of the Vassar-Wesleyan Paris Program (VWPP henceforth). A few thoughts about this building...

The front door of this place has a doorframe that isn't level with the ground... it comes up about 4 inches (more if you're either counting in metric or happen to trip over it). Now, maybe it's about keeping dirt or rain out, but I suspect that it's really just that the designers of this building had it in for people with wheelchairs (or just, people with feet). Otherwise, it's still sort of peculiar... very narrow winding hallways and low ceilings (though most Parisian buildings seem to have been designed under the assumption that I would be born without a forehead). It was also kind of cold. I'm not wild about it yet, but that's also because they spent a good three hours talking at us about things like how to be safe walking around and how not to get pickpocketed (today's French lesson: "pickpocket" = "pickpocket").* Useful information, but many of us were nodding off and on throughout. I did try to stay awake, however, while part of the lecture was handled by the pretty Parisian girl taking Film classes at the Sorbonne.

Afterward, we went to a mall so everyone else could buy phones (I happened to get my hands on a European phone in the U.S. and brought it over). We all traded numbers. It was adorable. Today's other French lesson: "text" [as in 'text message'] = "texto". Also, the mall was fairly similar to the American ones I've experienced... this one was near the heart of the city, so it had a lot of exits and looked just a little run down, but the idea seemed to survive translation from the U.S.

After the mall, we went on a boat tour up and down a patch of the Seine. It was nighttime by this point, but we still saw Bateaux Mouches (a famous restaurant/nightclub literally on the water), the smaller replica Statue of Liberty (it indeed had a French designer, but then, so does the traffic-plagued Washington, D.C.). There were a lot of neat bridges, a lot of French buildings, the Eiffel Tower, and more. I took many pictures and now I don't know how to label most of them.

We then returned to the Hostel for dinner. Most of us sought the lobby's 30 minutes per person of free wi-fi (pronounced "why-fy" in the U.S. and "wee-fee" over here). I then went to bed.

TOMORROW, on "(215) Days of Europe"...

Andy meets his host family! Will they be everything he hopes? Will their children help him with his French or make his life a living "cauchemar"?!** Will he be near his friends? How will he get back to Reid Hall? And will he EVER figure out where the arrondisements are and which one is his??? Find out next time on "(215) Days of Europe"!

G'night, America.

-Andy

*There are a lot of these, but, as many annoyed French students will tell you, they're never the ones you expect. The result is that you inevitably look like an idiot. Either you assume something's the same in both languages and Mamadou (your uniquely distractable Senegalese high school French teacher) scolds you, or you admit you don't know the damn word and Monsieur corrects you with a "Really? Couldn't figure that one out?" tone of voice before the word in question reminds him of that time he was the captain of the Senegalese soccer team and they had to play this big match against...

**"Nightmare" in English. 10 Bonus points if you got that on your own. 15 More bonus points if you can Skype me (andy.j.weiner.17) and correctly pronounce "C'est une nouvelle année" in one try before my parents do.

(1): J'Arrive!

For the record, "j'arrive!" does not mean what it apparently seems to ("I arrive!"). Rather, it is how you would say "I'll be right back." This translation pitfall, where one word closely resembles another with a very different meaning in the other language, is what the French call a "faux-ami" (literally translated, a "false friend").

I think two French terms is enough for one entry. Class dismissed. Oh, and for extra credit, learn how to pronounce "C'est une nouvelle année" sooner than my parents.

So, one massive (and massively random) diversion later, I started an entry about how I arrived in at Charles-de-Gaulle airport in Paris on Thursday, January 7, 2010 at 10:50 AM (4:50 AM Eastern). For future reference, PARIS IS SIX HOURS AHEAD OF EAST COAST STANDARD TIME (to be updated with regard to daylight savings). The flight was not that bad... we Vassar-Wesleyan kids got to know each other before and during the flight and many of us watched movies on the plane (my new friend Myles and I watched Quantum of Solace). After picking up our bags (and apparently not needing to go through customs?), we found our way to the Jean-Monnet FIAP hostel in the 14th arrondisement (I'm only beginning to understand the arrondisement system).

The rest of the day can be summed up thus: We had lunch and dinner at the hostel's restaurant (not the worst food in the world). Many of us went to get metro passes and wine (more on that failure momentarily).

After stopping at a wine store for a few bottles to share with everybody and have a nice quiet bonding session in one of our rooms, we returned to the lobby to learn that alcohol was not permitted in the hostel and that the front desk would have to hold the wine for us until we went out again. Nice. So, after spending dinner and a while after scheming about taking the wine and leaving, doing a handoff, and coming back in later, we decided we were too tired, it was too late, and we couldn't get enough people together (and without French phones to coordinate it all... yeah, no).

But we had fun anyway, and still got to know each other a little bit. I tried speaking in French as much as I could, and a lot of people followed suit (at least when I was around and hoping that I wasn't the annoying guy for doing it). But we all get along pretty well and I think it's gonna' be great.

The hostel was actually very nice... more like a bare-essentials hotel, with four-person rooms, two showers and sinks and one toilet per room, and three awesome roommates (Daniel, Myles, and Tyler).

(0): Prologue

Testing, testing 1-2-3...

Hey, everybody! I'm glad you found your way here. I hope the coming chronicles are informative, enlightening, and (probably the most important) entertaining enough for you to keep finding your way back.

For the record: I will be studying in Paris from now until (roughly) May 16, but traveling in Europe until August 10 ("Aha! The title is explained!" you rejoice). I will take classes (film, quel surpris) at Paris VII. This is one of the many numbered colleges that, together, compose the University of Paris (also known as The Sorbonne). I will live with a host family until the end of the semester, but due to recent airline security measures, it is probably best I not mention them by name or go too far into personal detail.

I will often do one-line paragraphs just to be witty. Had this line been witty, it would have been a good example.

If you would like to keep up with me by means other than this blog, I will likely continue to use Facebook (Andy Weiner), my email (andy.j.weiner@gmail.com), and Skype (andy.j.weiner.17). I am yet unsure of internet availability, but when I get a sense of such resources, I will relay that information to you as is relevant.

Generally speaking, you can expect this blog to be:

1.) Updated. Yes. Let's guess roughly twice a week.

2.) An account (concise, I hope) of my experiences and cultural observations.

3.) Vocabulary made fun. Goodness knows I wish I'd had that in French classes before Vassar.

4.) A source of recommendations! I will often record places I particularly enjoy eating or visiting as well as fun activities and other such "insider" tips for whenever you make it to Paris.

5.) In English ("Aha!" you again rejoice).

6.) Something for which I'll gladly take suggestions. Let me know if you want to hear about something in particular!

I will write more meaningfully from Paris. Happy new year (bonne année!) everyone!

-Andy