Au revoir, Paris

Sorry for the delay in part 2 of my "wrap-up" series. I've been very busy doing a whole lot of nothing for most of the past two weeks, then very busy doing a whole lot of everything for the past several days. Since I'm heading back to school tomorrow morning, I figured I should probably buckle down and finish this.

I think part of the problem is that I still don't want to admit that my Parisian adventure is really over. I don't want to sound cliche, but it truly was one of the most amazing experiences of my life. I fell head over heels in love with this city -- it is a vibrant, living entity. I can't imagine anyone not being enchanted by it. Its history and beauty wait for you at every turn to capture your imagination. It's such a special place, and even though I am slowly recovering from my withdrawal, it still seems hard to believe that anywhere else I'll live could ever compare to this.

I'll miss my host mother, who always worried that I studied too much, and her little, colorful apartment filled with art from all around the world. I'll miss being within walking distance of the Pantheon, the Sorbonne, Notre Dame, the Luxembourg Gardens... I'll miss the Louvre. I'll miss the pleasure that people take in simple little things -- fresh flowers, fruit from the corner market, good bread, coffee in a sidewalk cafe. I'll miss Sciences Po, and the international mix that is somehow so different from Georgetown. And last but certainly not least, I'll miss French. Speaking it, reading it, eventually eavesdropping in it...I'll miss having French as a fundamental part of my daily life.

As for the things I won't miss...it will be nice to live "on my own" again (even though, as I've mentioned repeatedly, I was incredibly blessed with my host family this past semester). I won't exactly miss the (stereo)typical French cynicism and pessimism. I don't think I will miss the secularism, although I've definitely noticed some "reverse culture shock" where public displays of religion are concerned. However, it will be nice to be back at Georgetown, a place where religion and spirituality are valued. I won't miss the extra effort that everything takes when you have to operate in an unfamiliar system and a less familiar language. I won't miss skype and living in a drastically different time zone from friends and family. And I won't miss exposes...I hope.

Still, with all that said, I am already plotting my return to Paris. As hard as it can be to live so far away from the people I love, I now have another home waiting for me on the other side of the Atlantic. I have to promise myself that I'll go back, and not just as a tourist. It's too hard to say "adieu" to Paris, so instead, I will just say "au revoir".

Morocco wrap-up

Things I will miss about Morocco:

1. Linguistic disorientation. Never quite knowing which language (English, French, Arabic) I will hear when I turn the corner, or which language will come out of my mouth when I order a coffee, ask for directions, etc.

2. Smells and tastes. Especially mint tea, olives, dates, freshly squeezed orange juice, and those cornbread cake things that the cafeteria serves for breakfast.

3. Sounds. Mainly I'm thinking of the call to prayer, but in a strange way, I'll also miss the Arabic music videos playing in the cafe or on the radio in taxis. And this relates to #1 up above, but I'll also miss the sound of Arabic, spoken just slightly too fast for me to follow along.

4. Company. The warmth and hospitality of the Moroccans that we encountered from all walks of life. Plus, the summer-sleep-away-camp dynamic of the Georgetown group -- 14 complete strangers who ended up being pretty cool. :-)

5. Colors. Turquoise tiles, white-washed stucco, green shingles, and rust-red sand -- those are the colors that float into my mind when I think of Morocco.

Things I will not miss about Morocco:

1. Being harassed on the street. I know I tend to be a little paranoid, but I really do believe my blonde hair attracted more attention than some of the other girls in our group. It was a little disconcerting to feel a group of men staring at me as I walked by, yet be unable to understand what they were saying. And it was more than a little disconcerting to actually be grabbed -- twice -- by one of them.

2. Constant dehydration. You really can't replenish your water supply fast enough in that kind of heat, and it takes a toll.

3. Worrying about getting sick from food on the road, and even in the school cafeteria. And on another food note, having to resort to eating meat on a daily basis due to lack of other available options.

4. Those creepy earwig-esque bugs with the pincers that always invaded the dorm rooms.

5. The photos of H.M. Mohamed VI hanging in every public building. I'm sorry, but I find it a little creepy. Very "Big Brother is watching" and all that.

Overall, this program was an incredible experience for me. At the risk of sounding cliche, I even dare to say that I learned a lot about myself in the process. Morocco is a country of extremes: extreme beauty, with its deserts and mountains, that you don't always appreciate right away; extreme wealth, in terms of cultural heritage and the personal income of the privileged few; extreme poverty, in terms of the opportunities available to the vast majority of the population.

I am not a very extreme person. I like adventuring and exploring, within limits, but I'm cautious. I like to know that I have somewhere safe and comfortable to go at the end of the day. Although this experience was very sheltered and supervised in many ways, in others it pushed me past my comfort zone. I don't know if I will end up back in Morocco as a Peace Corps volunteer a few years from now, the way I once imagined a few years ago. I'm not sure if my temperament is suited to that. However, over four weeks I think I was able to come to appreciate the strange, extreme sort of beauty that is Morocco. It still holds a fascination for me, a sense of wonder and mystery. I hope someday I'll go back.

Meknes and Marrakech

It's the final stretch! I am back on campus after our last field trips/site visits last week, and now there are only 4 days, 2 finals, 1 night in Paris, and one transatlantic flight standing between me and HOME. But before I write any more about that, here's a quick summary of the past week's travels:

On Wednesday, we took a day trip to Meknes, which is about an hour away from the university. I think this may be my favorite city. It reminded me a lot of Fez, but it wasn't quite as overwhelming -- or as touristy. It has an interesting history, too: it used to be the imperial (capital) city of Morocco. We got to visit the palace complex and royal neighborhoods, which take up more space than the rest of the city combined. We also had some free time to wander through the medina on our own. I bought an entire kilo of dates, in addition to a bottle of locally grown olive oil (Meknes is known for its olives). I may or may not be allowed to bring these back through customs...I should probably look into that!

On Friday morning, we left for our last weekend trip, this time to Marrakech. I still can't decide exactly how I feel about the city. It was certainly the most cosmopolitan (read: Europeanized) of the places we've visted, and in some ways that was a much-needed break. We stayed in a nice hotel with a beautiful swimming pool, and we ate dinner at a fancy restaurant, complete with belly-dancers as entertainment. However -- and maybe this makes me a snob -- I wasn't as thrilled with the experience as a lot of my friends because somehow it didn't feel authentic to me. I guess it was similar to my reaction to the camels in Tafilalt. It felt like we were being catered to as Westerners, that the Morocco we encountered was a slightly skewed interpretation based on what the tourism industry thinks people want to see and experience.

That's not to say that I didn't have a great time. It was definitely the most "fun" and relaxing trip, sort of like a mini vacation. I enjoyed the places that we visited on Saturday: the Sa'adian tombs, a beautiful madrasa, and the ruins of the Badi'a palace. We had lots of time for shopping in the medina that afternoon, although I can't say I'm a fan of the snake charmers in Jama' al-Fna, the main square. On Saturday evening, we went to a Moroccan folk music festival that was held in the ruins we had visited earlier in the day, and the concert was definitely a highlight of the trip for me. So all in all, I had a great time, but I guess it just didn't feel like the "real" Morocco (insofar as I am qualified to judge what that means) to me.

So now I am back on campus, trying very hard to stay focused for just a few more days until I make it through my exams. Tomorrow is my last day of class, which means that I have all day Thursday to study and pack. Friday I have my exams in the morning and the afternoon to say goodbye, before I leave for the airport in Fez on Saturday morning!

I should probably get back to that studying I keep talking about, but just in case you were wondering: I am planning to make two or three more posts before I officially conclude this travel blog. One to wrap up Morocco, (the long-awaited) one about Paris and my SAE (Study Abroad Experience) overall, and possibly one on my "reentry" into "normal" life at home.

Volubilis, Moulay Idriss Zerhoun, and the Tafilalt Oasis...but no camels.

I can't believe I will be heading home (for the first time in six months) in just 11 more days. It doesn't seem real, but at the same time, I'm ready to go back. That's not to say that I'm not having an amazing time here -- I am, and I'm learning so much. But the schedule is pretty packed, and I'm ready to take a break and relax in my house with my bed and my family -- after living in other people's houses and beds, and with other people's families, since February.

Still, there's a lot to look forward to in the next week and a half. But first, here's a quick summary of last week:

We had a normal class schedule on campus on Monday and Tuesday -- that's Moroccan Arabic from 8:00-10:00, Development in Theory and Practice from 10:30-12:00, and Islam and Democracy from 2:00-3:30. On Wednesday, we took a day trip to Volubilis and Moulay Idriss Zerhoun.

Volubilis is an archaeological site that used to be the capital of the Berber kingdom. It was incorporated into the Roman Empire as an Imperial Province, then was reappropriated by the Berbers after the Romans left. Mawlay Idriss I (the first king of Morocco) lived there at one point, but it was finally abandoned in the mid-18th century after the Lisbon earthquake. Sadly, the site is not very well-preserved due to both French and Moroccan ignorance and/or negligence. Some of the mosaics have been reconstructed using concrete (meaning that once they begin to crack, as some have already, they can never be restored again) and other elements of the site (arches, pillars, walls) have been restored incorrectly or put in the wrong place. Apparently the Moroccan population as a whole does not feel much ownership of the site because they view it as a Roman city, not a Moroccan one. It is currently listed as a UNESCO heritage site, but it has been in danger of losing this status for years due to its poor management.

After our tour of the site, we drove to the nearby town of Moulay Idriss Zerhoun. The town is built around the shrine dedicated to Mawlay Idriss I, the king mentioned above. We also visted a neighboring shrine town called Sidi Ali Hamdush. This village was slightly more colorful -- it is inhabited by a Sufi order that specializes in the treatment of mental illness. According to their tradition, mental illness is caused when a person is possessed by a malevolent spirit, called a jinn. This is the disclaimer that was listed on our information packet for this trip: "There are a number of important restrictions about the Hamadshah (the Sufi order) including colors that provoke the various jinn. It is recommended that you not wear anything in black, red, yellow, or green if we go there. People who are possessed may bite themselves or others when provoked. There are bread stalls along the pathways for you to buy loaves of bread to stuff in the mouths of those biting others." Thankfully, we all made it through without getting bitten!

After a short break on Thursday, we headed out on another trip early Friday morning, this time to the Tafilalt Oasis on the edge of the Sahara Desert, near the Algerian border. This is the largest (man-made) oasis in North Africa, and it is known for its fossils. More recently, it has also become known for taking tourists out to the dunes on camels. No, I didn't ride a camel. I decided that, all things considered -- the fact that I didn't have any particular desire to get that close to a camel, the fact that it's a tourist trap and not at all authentic to the culture of the town, and the fact that it would have been too cloudy to see the sun rise, anyway -- I would rather not get up at 3am to do it. And yes, I am slightly defensive about this -- only a few students decided not to go, and the rest of the group didn't seem to understand why. Oh, well.

I much preferred the other experiences of the trip. We learned about the irrigation system of the oasis, and it turns out that the traditional dirt canals are actually much more effective than the new concrete ones the government tried to install several years ago -- to the point that local citizens have taken to filling the concrete troughs with dirt to redirect the water back to their old system. We also visited a local (and locally run) development agency, and I had a nice conversation -- in Arabic! -- with one of the female teachers who works for them. And as the highlight of the trip, we were invited to dinner at a Sufi brotherhood. I got to shake hands with a Sufi sheikh and descendant of the Prophet Muhammad -- a round, jolly, bespectacled man who served us Berber pizza (basically stuffed pita bread) and answered all our questions in between singing verses from the Quran.

As for this week, yesterday and today were regular class days again. Tomorrow, we're going to Meknes, and this weekend we head to Marrakech. Then it's just three more days of class, two final exams, and one night in Paris before I'm home!

Fez and Zaouia Sidi Abd Assalam

I spent my Fourth of July exploring two very different parts of Morocco. Bright and early on Saturday morning, our group piled into the van for a day trip to Fez. Dr. Shoub, a professor of anthropology here at Al-Akhawayn University, gave us a guided historical tour of the old medina (the commercial city center). Fez is a fascinating city, and I'm disappointed that we didn't have more time there. I was definitely experiencing some sensory overload: the entire quarter is for pedestrians (and donkeys) only because the streets are so narrow. Some are so small that an average-size man would have to turn sideways in order to walk down them. They are all crowded with shops and stands selling everything under the sun. There are sections dedicated to dried fruits and nuts, others to leather goods, and still more to textiles or pottery and ceramics. Many of the buildings are supported by wooden scaffolding because the clay walls have expanded and become bowed with age. Its the kind of place that you want to get lost in and wander for hours, because you never know what interesting sight or smell you will discover around the next corner. (Note: this is probably not a very practical idea because if you did get lost, you might never get found again.)

We made it back to campus in time for a quick shower before leaving again for Zaouia Sidi Abd Assalam, a small Berber village about 15 minutes outside of Ifrane. A Peace Corps volunteer there arranged for us all the spend the night with host families. Most of the families there are probably considered "middle class" by the Moroccan government's standards. They have a roof over their heads and food on the dinner table...but for some of them, that's about it. The town is pretty female-dominated because many of the men have left to find work in other cities or countries. There is a local elementary school, and some of the kids take a bus to Ifrane for middle and high school. However, this varies greatly between families (especially for the girls) depending on their financial situation and personal preferences.

One of the other Georgetown girls and I stayed in a family with two daughters (Yousra, 12, and Nada, 6) and one female cousin (Khawla, 7) who appears to live with them. Their father speaks a little English, but we only saw him at dinner -- men and women typically spend the day engaged in different activities. The girls all speak at least a little bit of French and Modern Standard Arabic (MSA) because they study it in school. However, their mother only speaks Tamazight (the Berber language) and a little bit of Moroccan Arabic. This made communication rather interesting. Using French and MSA, Yousra and I sort of served as translators for everyone else. We played a lot of Go Fish (literally, for hours) and the girls had fun teaching us a little bit of Tamazight and Moroccan Arabic.

On Saturday night, one of the young women in town got married, and everyone was invited to the party, which took place in a big tent set up on the main street. Moroccan weddings are incredibly elaborate -- the bride is carried to the tent on a silver litter, and she changes her (elaborately decorated) dress multiple times during the course of the evening. The party doesn't start until around midnight, and it goes until dawn. My host family only stayed until about 3:30, but we could hear the music in the distance even after we went home...

I think the home stay experience was valuable on so many levels. The Georgetown program is based at Al-Akhawayn University, an American style university in the mountain resort town of Ifrane. Everyone on campus speaks English. We have potable running water, real showers, porcelain toilets, and pasteurized milk. This is not normal for a majority of Moroccans. I think about the quality of education that I have received since kindergarten, and I wonder about Yousra -- how much longer will she be allowed to take the bus to Ifrane for school? Will she make it to high school? Will she graduate? Will she have a career someday? I think about how warm and generous my host family was to the two American girls who descended upon them, unable to speak their language and offering little in return. Do I have that same capacity for genuine kindness? Do most Americans? It is amazing to me how people who have so little can give so much.

Ahlan wa-sahlan illa al-Maghreb

Welcome to Morocco!

I know I promised a wrap-up post on Paris, but I haven't had any time (or inclination) to think about that yet. The program is keeping us all pretty busy here, which is good -- not only am I presented with amazing travel and academic opportunities, but I don't have enough time to miss Paris...at least, not too much. Here is a summary of the first almost-week:

Saturday, July 27: I left for the airport well in advance because I wasn't sure how long it would take me to get there by metro with my giant suitcase. I ended up arriving too early -- my ticket counter wasn't even open yet. However, the trip was relatively uneventful until I arrived at the airport in Fez. As soon as I walked through the door, I was immediately pulled out of line and sent to wait in an office. At first, as the only fair-skinned, blonde-haired person on the flight, I thought I had been chosen for a random security check. Once the airport official started questioning me, though, I quickly realized that they were screening me for swine flu. After explaining to him that, yes, I do carry an American passport, but no, I haven't actually been in the country for five months, I was finally allowed through.

Sunday, June 28: We had a very brief, not particularly helpful orientation on campus. A few gems: don't eat uncooked vegetables, and try not to get pick-pocketed. Gee, thanks. Afterward, we had a chance to explore the town a bit. Ifrane was originally built as a French resort town, and it's still pretty wealthy and exclusive. Still, it's beautiful and green and at least 10 degrees cooler than at the base of the mountain.

Monday, June 29: First day of class. I have three professors: Nasser, who teaches Moroccan Arabic (which is indeed very different from Modern Standard, as I had been warned), Dr. Rhazaoui, who teaches "Development in Theory and Practice," and Dr. King, the Georgetown program coordinator who also teaches "Islam and Democracy." They are all very knowledgeable, and I think the courses are going to be interesting, especially the one on development.

Tuesday, June 30: We left campus at 6am for an overnight trip to Rabat. On Tuesday morning, we visited the Haut Commissaire du Plan (the High Commissioner of Planning) office to learn about the Initiative Nationale du Development Humain, a program started by the king to promote small-scale development projects throughout the country. In the afternoon, we went over to the Observatoire Nationale du Development Humain, an oversight organization charged with observing, analyzing, and "critiquing" the initiative.

Wednesday, July 1: In the morning, we got to tour the Parliament building and meet with the Secretary General, as well as a member of a new party called the Parti de l'Authenticite et de la Modernite that won a surprising number of seats in the most recent elections. After lunch, we met with the director of the Millenium Challenge Account, a US grant program that is providing Morocco with $700 million to implement development programs over the next 5 years. Then, we went back to Parliament and got to sit in on an interpellation of the government ministers by members of the House of Representatives. It was all in Arabic, so I didn't understand very much, but they were basically talking about the environmental and agricultural importance of water. It was pretty cool.

Today, we had a normal class day back on campus, and tomorrow we have the day off to rest, work on the course readings, take a trip into town, etc.

I have to head out in a few minutes for a "mixer" with some of the Moroccan students on campus for the summer, but just a few quick observations:

1. French is everywhere here. All of the billboards, shop signs, menus, etc. have French translations -- sometimes above the Arabic. It definitely makes me feel more confident about my ability to communicate during our various travels, but I'm not sure what to think about that from a socio-linguistic perspective. I guess I'm inadvertently starting my thesis research right here!

2. I didn't want to go into too much technical detail about the various development agencies and projects, but I do want to mention that Dr. Rhazaoui is very critical of the current efforts and government. He is very well-respected in his field, so it should be interesting to hear his analysis and opinions.

3. This may come as a shock...but I'm considering dropping my English elective next semester in favor of an econ course. If I am at all interested in pursuing a Master's program in international development (and I am becoming more interested every day since arriving here), I need a stronger background in econ. I haven't made any definite decisions yet, but it's something to think about...

Voter abstention and DayQuil: finals week at Sciences Po

Just thought I'd mention I survived my exams...and I'm pretty sure I passed.

Yesterday, I took the final for my political sociology class. The topic was "La participation politique dans les democraties occidentales" (Political participation in Western democracies). It was a general enough subject that I was able to incorporate examples from a number of different lectures/topics. Hopefully that's a good thing. It was a four hour-long test, and I surprisingly actually used about 3 of those hours...however, that may have been partly due to the fact that my brain was sort of foggy from a combination of a cold, DayQuil, and sleep deprivation. Oh, well.

This afternoon, I had the exam for my class on the European Union. Brain was still foggy. This time, I had to write on 3 topics in 3 hours. I've stopped wondering about the imbalance here. My topics were: "Le Traite de Lisbonne va-t-il resoudre les problemes de l'Union europeenne?" (Will the Lisbon Treaty solve the EU's problems?), "L'Union europeenne protege-t-elle ses citoyens?" (Does the EU protect its citizens?), and "L'Union europeenne est-elle une puissance internationale?" (Is the EU an international power?). Using brainstorming and outlining techniques that I learned in my AP European History class in high school -- gotta love how everything comes full circle -- I think I was able to pull together coherent answers for all three. I won't find out for sure for at least a month or so, when my grades are sent to Georgetown.

I am now officially done with school for the semester. Now, I have 2 full days to say goodbye to Paris before I leave for Morocco...to start school again. I'm trying to remind myself why I thought this was a good idea. I'm sure I'll remember by the time I'm sitting on the plane on my way to Fez. Fez. I've always wanted to go to Fez... (If you couldn't tell, the brain is still a bit foggy from Quil of both the Day and Night varieties.)

Here is the "programme" for the next two days:

Tomorrow, I'm going on a Chocolate Tour of Paris with my friend J and her mom. Yes, you read correctly. I've been looking forward to this since February, when I discovered it existed. It's like my birthday and Christmas, all rolled up into one Parisian-coated package. Excellent.

Afterward, I'm planning on going to the Musee d'Orsay and/or the Musee Rodin. I'm determined not to let this cold (by the way, is there anything worse than a sniffly, stuffy cold in the summertime? I think not.) ruin my last days here, but at the same time, I'm trying to take it easy because I don't want to be sick when I get to Morocco. Ugh.

Runny noses aside, tomorrow evening is the annual Repas dans la rue for all the neighbors, so I will join everyone for dinner outside on our little street. I will probably end up holding babies and entertaining kids for most of it. Some things never change.

And as for Friday...I'm not sure what I'll do. Laundry, first of all, so I can finish packing. And I need to take a box of books to the post office. Other than that, I think I might just take some pastries and fresh fruit to the Jardin du Luxembourg and enjoy the sunshine. I'd go crazy if I tried to race around the city to say goodbye to all my favorite places. Plus I think I'd make myself too upset. Maybe it's better if I don't say any "official" goodbyes. I know I'll be back someday. There's a saying that "you never truly leave the ones you love." I think that applies to places, as well.

You know you're on study abroad if...

...you can fail your final exams and still pass your classes. True story. I just did the math. Actually, this would probably be true of most of my class at Georgetown, as well (aside from their rule that you have to pass the final in order to receive credit for the course), but it would never occur to me to do the calculations.

Yes, it is now officially finals season at Sciences Po...and one of the most relaxed finals seasons I have experienced. I am already done with 3 of my classes: I have my grades and did quite well (if I do say so myself) in my Arabic and urban planning courses, and I have no idea what I got in French -- but knowing the professor, I'm not worried. That leaves my two "big" classes -- political sociology and the history of the EU. As I mentioned, I took time out from studying today to realize that I don't even have to pass the exams in order to get a passing grade in each of them. This is a very odd experience for me, and thus I feel fully justified in taking a mini-vacation for the past week.

After the Georgetown girls left last Tuesday, I had a few days to catch my breath (and finish my last expose) before my brother and grandmother arrived on Thursday. I had my last day of class on Friday (including the dreaded last expose) while they museum hopped and took a bus tour of the city. On Saturday, we did a fairly impressive Paris mini-marathon: Notre Dame, Sainte-Chapelle, the Conciergerie and Berthillon ice cream in the morning; a lunch break at the apartment with my host mom; a trek to Montmartre for Sacre Coeur and the view; and finally dinner at a delicious fondue restaurant to celebrate my birthday and my brother's high school graduation. Sunday morning, we caught the Thalys to Holland, land of blue skies, green grass, happy cows, and family.

Bright and early on Monday morning (and I can only say this because Holland is far enough north that it is actually bright at 6am), we caught the ferry boat to Terschelling, an island to the north, and spent the day biking around the Oerol theater and music festival. It was such a different atmosphere from the hurried, formal -- dare I say Parisian? -- feeling of Paris -- and such a welcome break. On Tuesday, we spent most of the day visiting with family. Much tea was had, along with sukerbolle (bread with little clumps of sugar in it that sounds gross but is actually delicious), Nagel cheese (very strong cheese with cloves in it), and dropjes (dark licorice that actually is disgusting, no matter what my Nana says). In the evening, we all went to my aunt's choir performance. She sings in a group that specializes in international music, and aside from the fact that they sounded really great, it was fun for me because I could understand the songs in French and English!

On Wednesday, my little brother set out with one of our uncles on a 180km cycling trek across Friesland. I chose to spend the day at the house, reading while surrounded by purring cats and a very affectionate dog, with a short break to run some errands with my aunt in town, and later to help "fetch" the neighbors cows for milking (yes, you read correctly. I did indeed fetch the cows). At the end of the day, we were both very happy campers. And yes, I'm sure we are related.

Sadly, all vacations must come to an end, and so I headed back to Paris on Thursday. The trip ended up taking a bit longer than expected: there was a problem with the local train that resulted in me missing my connection to the high-speed Thalys. I was able to get a seat on the next train a few hours later, though, so it worked out just fine in the end.

I spent most of the day today settling back in to the peace and quiet after my marathon 2.5 weeks of visitors and traveling. Despite my lack of usual finals period panic, I managed to get a fair bit of studying done today, in addition to making a list of things to do and see before I leave for Morocco a week (!) from tomorrow:

-visit the Musees d'Orsay and Rodin. Stand in awe of amazing European art.
-visit the Calder exhibit at the Centre Pompidou. Make host mother happy for (finally) taking her suggestion.
-finally go inside the Ste-Germaine-des-Pres church after walking by it every day on the way to school.
-buy English-language reading material for the plane at Shakespeare & Co bookstore.
-stock up on books for thesis at Gibert Joseph.
-figure out how to transport/mail above-mentioned books in the most cost-effective manner.
-drink mint tea at the Mosquee.
-buy strawberries on rue Mouffetard.
-carry strawberries to the Jardin du Luxembourg and eat them in the sunshine while watching adorable French children float boats in the fountain.
-drink coffee in a cafe while reading Le Monde.
-take pictures of everything. Even if it makes me feel like a tourist.
-try not to become too sentimental thinking about how much I will miss this.
-promise self to come back someday.

I'm not sure if I will have time to update again before I leave for Morocco. However, at some point (using an idea borrowed from a fellow study abroad friend!) I plan to post a series of lists -- things I will and will not miss, things that surprised me, things I learned -- to sum up my "sejour" in Paris.

One more week... Time has been behaving very strangely lately. Sometimes I swear I can feel the seconds ticking away unbearably slowly. Other times I look at the clock to realize an entire day has slipped away without notice. In February, I had no idea what it would feel like to have just one more week. But I'm not going to spend my time thinking or writing about that now. That's a subject for another time.

Georgetown visitors, and the end is in sight?

Whew. It has been a whirlwind of a week and a half. M and K, two of my close friends and former roommates from Georgetown, arrived last Sunday for a ten day visit. They stayed with M's cousins in an adorable little apartment for most of the trip. Someday, when I have a job, I will come back to Paris on vacation and rent a cute little apartment like that. It's important to have long-term goals in life, no?

Even though they were only here for 10 days, it was a jam-packed 10 days. On Monday, we went to Montmartre to see Sacre-Coeur, the view of the city, and the winding little streets filled with artists and ice cream -- a winning combination in my opinion. On Tuesday, K, M and M's cousin spent the day at Roland Garros (otherwise known as the French Open) while I frantically tried to finish my part of what turned out to be a 37 page group paper. Oy. On Wednesday, I had class and a final exam in my urban planning class (side-note: we had a little party after the test. I brought home-made peanut butter chocolate chip cookies, and all of the French kids raved about them, if I do say so myself. I felt as though I achieved quite the culinary victory!).

On Thursday, we took a day trip to Giverny to visit Monet's gardens. We rented bikes next to the train station and soaked in all the green (or at least I did). It was a little hard to imagine the serenity that Monet must have found in his garden due to the hoards of tourists, but the flowers were certainly pretty. We made it back to Paris just in time to claim our seats at the Opera Garnier for the ballet, which was supposedly based on Proust. I'm not sure I understood the literary connection, but the ballet itself was incredible.

Friday was another class and homework day for me (the one downside of having visitors during the last official week of class: you don't get to spend as much time with them as you'd like). On Saturday, K and I took a day trip to Strasbourg, where she studied in the fall, while M and her cousins went to Versailles. Strasbourg is a funny little town; it feels like it can't decide whether it wants to be French or German, which I suppose makes sense given the history of the Alsace region. French, German, or just European, however, it is so charming, and I can see why K misses it! We spent the day wandering, visiting some of her favorite places, and dodging the rain.

On Sunday, several of my friends here joined us for brunch at Breakfast in America -- every study abroad student's dream. I feel as though I can state that with authority, since I have taken every friend who has visited me this semester to eat there, and they seem to have reached a consensus. Sunday also happened to be free museum day, so we stopped by the Centre Pompidou (modern art) and the Musee Marmottan (Monet and others) -- an interesting combination. We had tea at La Duree on the Champs Elysees and stopped by the Arc de Triomphe before rounding out the day with dinner at a delicious Indian restaurant near my apartment, still dodging the rain.

K and I went for tea at the Mosquee and walked through the Jardin des Plantes on Monday morning, then she and the other girls went shopping while I went to class -- notice the hint of bitterness? To celebrate their last night in Paris, we went to see the Tour Eiffel all lit up. No matter how many times I see it, it's still magical.

M had to leave pretty early on Tuesday morning, but K and I had time to visit the Pantheon and have a lovely (indoor, due to the perpetual rain) picnic before she left for the airport.

And that brings us to today. I've been playing catch up with emails and the last remaining bits of homework for most of the day. I'm hoping to have my last assignment (an expose for Friday) finished before I go to bed tonight because my brother and grandma arrive tomorrow afternoon. They'll be in Paris for the weekend, and then I'm leaving with them on Sunday to visit our relatives in Holland before my final exams.

Once again, whew.

A perfect day, redux

After all of the research and reading of the past week, I decided that I needed a mental health day today. With that in mind, I triumphantly turned off my alarm clock last night before going to bed and allowed myself the luxury of sleeping in until nearly ten o'clock. Glorious. After a leisurely breakfast, I stepped out in the the sunshine and walked across Ile-St-Louis to the Bastille, where I bought tickets to the National Ballet for Thursday evening with K and M. (Side-note: I have been wanting to go to the ballet -- any ballet -- since I got here in February. In fact, I have dreamed about seeing the ballet in Paris since I was little. And now every time I think about it, I'm 10 years old again!)

I meandered back across the river to my neck of the woods, picked up cookie-baking supplies at the grocery store (this was slightly complicated by the fact that in addition to peanut butter and chocolate chips, apparently the French are not wild about brown sugar), and treated myself to a pita with falafel from the shop on the corner.

I came back to the apartment and did a little bit of reading. Then, to reward myself for this unexpected burst of virtue, I watched a movie on my computer while reading up on Giverny and Strasbourg, my two day trip destinations with K and M next week. Blissful relaxation.

Sadly, the better angels of my academic nature are now pulling me back down to earth. And so to an analysis of the leadership crisis in the French Socialist Party I return...

End of the year rush, à la française

I should be using this time to work on my corpus documentaire, but my brain will no longer function in French -- something about reading 250+ newspaper articles about the French Socialist Party in the past 24 hours does that to you. So instead, I decided to update my much neglected blog. Hopefully I can be more coherent in English than in French, though at this point I'm not making any promises!

Let's see, has anything exciting happened in the past week or so?

Sunday 5/17: I was invited to dinner at a friend's house, so I made a peach cobbler...sort of. I have yet to master the art of converting American measurements (cups, teaspoons, etc) to French (grams, "coffee" spoons). I think I ended up with too much butter, and my baking dish was too big. But the peaches were fresh from the Sunday morning market, so it still tasted good!

Wednesday 5/20: I had to do math for the first time since high school in my urban planning class. Yuck. Not only that, but the French write their numbers differently: they use decimal points where we use commas, and vice versa. So 20.000 m^2 is really 20,000 m^2. That tends to make quite a difference. Still, I felt a strange sort of satisfaction once I finally managed to conquer the story problem!

Thursday 5/21: I took a day trip to Amboise with a few friends. We toured the local chateau, poked our heads inside Leonardo da Vinci's retirement home, and stopped by the local winery and glass blowing studio. It rained pretty much all day, but in some ways that added to the charm (or at least that's what I tell myself). Plus, it was definitely a nice break to see green space and trees and very few cars and traffic.

Friday 5/22: Hmm, anything interesting about this day? Oh, yeah, it was my 21st birthday! This was my first birthday away from home, and as much as I wish I could have celebrated it with my friends and family back in the States, I must say that Paris is a pretty decent substitute. One of my friends here hosted a little party at her apartment, and then we all went out dancing. Slightly different from the standard U.S. college student 21st festivities, but I liked my version better!

Sunday 5/24: number 37 on the list of "random things I never thought I'd experience in Paris": I went to a steeplechase. When I think of horse races, I think of the Kentucky derby, but apparently the steeplechase is big in France. My favorite moment was when one of the horses fell going over a jump, looked down at his jockey on the ground, said "see you later, buddy", and took off to finish the race. I was so worried that one of them had been hurt, so it was pretty funny to watch the horse run off while the jockey basically shrugged and walked off the course.

Tuesday 5/26: Last night, I had my first final exam -- yikes. It was for my Arabic class, and of course, as with most things with this class, the entire process makes me sigh and shake my head a little. First of all, the other students in the class negotiated both the date and the content of the exam. I'm certainly not complaining, but I have never before sat a final exam that only covered 3 of the 8 units of the semester!

Second of all, it took me a little while to figure out why the exam felt strange, but I realized this morning: I was not required to produce any original Arabic, anywhere in the test. I had to translate one sentence from French to Arabic and another from Arabic to French -- with the help of a dictionary! Funnily enough, the Arabic -> French section was the hardest part because I only have an Arabic-English dictionary, so I essentially had to do 2 translations for the words I didn't already know.

After the translation section, I had the conjugate 6 or 7 verbs into various tenses...and that was it. No essay section, no speaking, no dictation. My Georgetown classmates' heads would explode from the shock of it all. But, in the infinite wisdom I have gained over the past several months, I just smile and mentally shake my head. Is that condescending? I hope not. Like I said, I'm not complaining, it's just very different from what I'm used to.

And that brings us up-to-date. My current project is a giant group research paper on the "leadership crisis" in the French socialist party. My job, as the only exchange student in the group, is to comb through newspaper archives and compile articles on the party convention last November. It's pretty interesting to compare French vs. American party politics...maybe I'll include a more detailed post on the subject once I finish the assignment.

It's a little crazy to realize that the end of the semester is in sight. Other than this big project, I have one more exposé due on the last day of class (June 12). I have final exams in my urban planning and French classes next week, and my other two finals are during the exam period at the end of June. I sort of like having the work spread out like this -- it's very different from the Georgetown system of cramming everything into the last 2 weeks.

Aside from school work, I'm getting ready for my next round of visitors. K and M arrive from Salamanca, Spain on Sunday, and L will be joining them from Madrid sometime next week. I'm so excited to see them, in addition to looking forward to the excuse to gallivant around the city doing touristy things. I've been realizing that there is still so much I want to see and do here...I just hope I can fit it all in.

Retour a la vie quotidienne

This is going to be another one of those "catch up" entries -- you have been warned!

The past week and a half have been somewhat uneventful, but only in the sense that I have not left the country, nor have I had any visitors from faraway lands. I feel as though I am now firmly settled back into "normal" life in Paris...which, surprisingly enough, includes quite a bit of schoolwork. I think this is Sciences Po's version of the "end of the year rush". Not much compared to the Georgetown equivalent, but still pretty significant considering the amount of work I've had thus far. A quick summary:

On Tuesday, I had to prepare a skit with a partner for Arabic. My partner (a Dutch grad student) was really nervous for some reason, which made it kind of hard once we were in front of the class, but we made it through alright in the end.

I spent all day Wednesday and Thursday in bed with some kind of stomach bug. Yuck. And yes, I will admit that when I woke up at 3am on Wednesday, my feverish brain did panic that I had the swine flu...or H1N1, or whatever name is currently considered politically correct. (Sidenote: They call it Mexican flu here. Somehow I don't think that would go over so well back in the other hemisphere.) Thankfully, I manage to avoid procrastinating for once because on Friday...

...I had two major assignments due. The first was a 10 page analysis of the official portraits of the presidents of the 5th Republic for my political sociology class. The second, and more nerve-wracking, was an expose on whether or not the French model of public services is soluble in the European Union (answer: no, and in fact it's not technically legal...but the EU has developed it's own version of public services, so it's okay.) I think the presentation went well, so that was a pretty big relief.

Coming up next, I have an Arabic test on Tuesday. It's a little ridiculous -- this is the first test we've had all semester, and it's only covering the 2 most recent lessons. My prof realized that he needed to give us a test at some point in order to have enough grades in his gradebook, and he had forgotten until just now. Somehow this no longer surprise me; it just makes me shake my head and laugh a little.

Other random bits of news:

Last Saturday, I took a day trip to Amiens with a friend. We picnicked next to the river and saw the Gothic cathedral, which is even taller than Notre Dame.

This coming Thursday, we're going to Amboise in the Loire Valley. Chateaux, da Vinci (more on that later), and glass blowers -- a perfect birthday treat.

Oh, and last but not least, I found out yesterday that I passed at least one of my midterms! In fact, I actually did pretty well, so needless to say I am relieved and proud of myself. :-)

I'll try to provide a more interesting (or at least more coherent) update next time. Until then...

Barcelona

Let's just say it was an interesting weekend. Barcelona is lovely -- I hope I'll have the chance to go back someday -- and I can't even describe how wonderful it was to meet up with three of my closest friends from Georgetown. But as I sat down to write this post a few minutes ago, I realized 2 things: 1) Spain is most definitely not France. 2) I spent a total of 30 hours on a bus this weekend.

The first of those observations probably elicited a well-deserved "duh" from some of you, so let me elaborate. I noticed this first in Italy a few weeks ago. Even though France is geographically considered part of "southern" Europe (as opposed to Germany/the Netherlands/the Scandinavian countries), it can't really be classified that way culturally. I kept noticing little ways -- restaurant/cafe etiquette, body language and volume in public places, the organization of museums, etc. -- in which Spain and Italy seem to have much more in common with each other than either country does with France. I probably wouldn't have picked up on any of this a few months ago...although I believe OIP's online orientation did try to warn me. Or maybe it's just that I'm more familiar with France and the French, so I'm more likely to lump everyone else together. Who knows? In any case, it was an interesting realization.

And as for the 30 hours worth of bus travel...yeah. That's what happens when you drive with 120 French college students who need to stop every 2 hours for a cigarette break. C'est la vie.

But as for Barcelona itself, I had an amazing time. I met up with the Georgetown girls as soon as I arrived early Friday afternoon, and we had a wonderful time wandering through the old city center, gelato in hand, giggling and catching up on everyone's lives. The other three girls are all studying in Spain this semester (L in Madrid, M and K in Salamanca) so they introduced me to all sorts of typical Spanish treats for dinner -- tapas (including "tortilla", which is actually a potato omelette), seafood paella, and sangria. Side-note: I had a bit of a quiet chuckle to myself imagining the expression on a snobby Parisian waiter's face if a customer tried to order sangria, which is essentially a red wine-based fruit punch.

On Saturday, we all got up bright and early and headed to Sagrada Familia, the famous still-under-construction cathedral designed by the architect Antonio Gaudí. The outside (below) is pretty amazing -- and definitely very different compared to, say, Notre Dame -- but it was hard to see much inside due to all the scaffolding. The four of us decided that we'll just have to meet back in Barcelona when we're 50, after it's finished.

Continuing on with our Gaudí theme, we cut across town (and up a very large hill) to Parc Guell, which for some reason reminded me of the Candyland board game. Anyone else see the resemblance?

After soaking in the sunshine and getting a little twisted around in the maze of paths, we headed back to the central part of town where we stopped by La Boqueria, an amazing outdoor market, before going to the Picasso museum. To my slight surprise, not being a huge modern art fan, I actually enjoyed the museum. It focused on Picasso's early work -- i.e. no cubism -- and it was pretty cool to see the evolution and diversity of his style.

After getting our fill of Picasso, we decided to go up to Montjuic to watch the "Magic Fountains" show (in keeping with the Candyland theme, perhaps?) However, when we were in the metro, L discovered that her wallet was missing. We're still not sure if she was pick-pocketed or if it somehow fell out of her purse. We went straight to the police station to report it, and thankfully her passport and credit cards were safely stored somewhere else. Still, the experience was a little disarming, and needless to say, we didn't make it to Montjuic.

However, once we had done all we could about L's missing wallet, we had a nice dinner to celebrate our last night together (until the Spain crew comes to Paris next month, that is), complete with churros y chocolate. This was perhaps the most decisively "Spain is not France" experience of the weekend. I have never met a French pastry I didn't like. Churros, however, present an interesting dilemma. On the one hand, they're basically fried dough dipped in chocolate sauce -- what's not to like? But on the other hand, they're so greasy that it's actually a little disgusting. Still, M assured me that churros y chocolate are very authentically Spanish, so I'm glad I tried it!

The other girls left for the airport early Sunday morning, but I still had most of the day for more sight-seeing. I started at the Cathedral of Barcelona (this one was built in the 14th century, as compared to Gaudi's modern creation), where I serendipitously arrived just in time for Mass. After the service, I walked out to the square to watch the Sardana dancers -- every Sunday at noon, locals meet in the plaza to perform a traditional Catalan circle dance.

On something of a whim (read: the sun was really hot and my feet were tired) I decided to take a boat tour of the harbor, which turned out to be a nice way to see the city. Afterward, I met up with some of the Sciences Po group at the beach before we had to board the buses for our (very long) ride home.

We got in at about 8am yesterday, giving me just enough to time do a load of laundry and shower before heading to class. Whew! It was quite a whirlwind.

The next 3 weeks or so should be fairly low-key. I have a bit of school work (i.e. a paper, an Arabic test, and an expose with a partner) that I need to get working on, but other than that I think I should be able to enjoy a little lull before June hits. I'm thinking about going to Chartres this weekend to visit the cathedral, and I have a list of museums and other things that I still want to see. It's so strange to think that I only have 8 weeks left...

Back to Paris and RM's visit

Basically, I had an incredible, once-in-a-lifetime sort of spring break...but after 10 days worth of travel and sight-seeing, I was very happy to come home to Paris. The moment the plane landed, when the flight attendants began making the announcements in French first, instead of Italian, I felt a wonderful yet odd sense of relief. After all, France is not my home country, and French is not my first language...yet I have made a home for myself here over the past 3 months. I had to leave for a little while in order to realize that.

Unfortunately, I had little time to relax and enjoy being home. I spent just about every waking minute of last week preparing for "les galops", a.k.a. midterms a la Sciences Po. Warning: the next paragraph contains a linguistic digression that I find hilarious but most normal people will probably find less so...

As I already explained, Sciences Po calls their midterms "galops". This is apparently intended to be a wryly humorous allusion to the fact that one must "gallop" through them -- they appear out of nowhere and are incredibly strenuous. However, as a native English speaker, I have another, slightly darker, association with the word "galop", which is pronounced "gallow"... I'll leave it to you to decide which is more appropriate!

I had to sit galops for both of my cours magistraux, my large lecture classes. The first, on the construction of the European Union, was a 2 hour exam where we had to write on 2 topics out of a choice of 3. This was the "sprint" portion of the galop. After a 3 hour break, I came back to sit the second exam for my political sociology class -- 1 question, 4 hours, or what I call the "marathon" portion. I only lasted 3 of the 4 hours before deciding my "dissertation" was as good as it was going to get and handed it in early (however, to my slight comfort, a number of students, both French and international, finished before I did).

My memories of the 5 HOURS of testing are still somewhat vague, but I think it went as well as could be expected. I certainly had enough to say on all 3 topics, it's just a matter of whether it was what the professors wanted to hear -- that is a much more important factor here than at home.

Thankfully, the weekend was not all bad because one of my close friends from Georgetown was visiting. She arrived on Friday evening and left Tuesday morning. Not only was I thrilled to see her for the first time since last May (she's been studying in St. Petersburg all year), but it was nice to have an excuse to do fun things in the city -- sort of like my spring break, part 4. I got to show off all my favorite spots in addition to doing and seeing lots of new things.

I met up with RM after my exams on Saturday, and after a very necessary coffee and pastry break to revive my poor, foggy brain, we wandered through the Jardin du Luxembourg and caught up on each other's lives. We had dinner in a little restaurant off of Rue Mouffetard that my parents discovered during their visit. It was at this point that we made a very good decision. Neither of us wanted to turn in early, so we decided to go and look at the Eiffel Tower (it is illuminated and lovely at night, plus it sparkles every 15 minutes). It didn't even occur to us that we might be able to go up because the lines have been horrendous for the past month.

However, when we stepped off the metro and into the square under the Tower...there was no one there. And that is how it came to pass that finally, after living in Paris for 3 months, I made it to the top of the Eiffel Tower. And it was magical. :-)

On Sunday, RM and I pilgrimaged to the American Diner for a pancake brunch before embarking on an inadvertently morbid itinerary: the Catacombs followed by Pere Lachaise Cemetery. However, we re-embraced the world of the living by munching on a bag of Tollhouse cookies in the Promenade Plantee. We had dinner in a Lebanese restaurant that I've been meaning to try for ages, and then we saw "Coco Avant Chanel" at the movie theater down the street.

Side-note: I had been wanting to see that movie for a while, but I was a little intimidated by the French movie theater set-up. Essentially, the lobby of the theater is too small for people to stand in while waiting for their film, so after you buy your ticket, you have to go back outside and queue up under your designated post. It makes sense once you've actually done it, but otherwise it just looks very confusing!

On Monday, we started out at the Jardin des Plantes to take advantage of some unexpected sunshine. I had to go to class for a few hours, but afterward we went to the Musee de l'Orangerie, now one of my favorites, strolled quickly through the Tuileries with crepes in hand, and stopped by one of RM's favorite gourmet candy shops -- think Honeydukes from Harry Potter, only chic-er. We got stuck in the rain but remedied the situation by darting into a cafe until our dinner reservations at one of RM's parents' favorite restaurants. This place was amazing -- one of the best meals, and definitely the best chocolate mousse, I have had in Paris.

RM left early Tuesday morning to go back to the Russian hinterland, and I finally settled back into a normal routine...until today. I'm leaving for Barcelona in a few hours on a trip sponsored by Sciences Po, and while I'm there, I will get to gallivant about with 3 more of my close Georgetown friends who are studying in Spain. I suppose this would be spring break, part 5?

Part 3: Roma

Sometimes the third time really is the charm -- at least when it comes to my attempts to use the rail system in Italy. I arrived at the train station 45 minutes early, just in case, which meant that I had plenty of time for a cappucino and a "croissant". I use the quotation marks because Italian "croissants" bear little resemblance to the French originals -- they are covered with sugar and often contain a creamy, donut-type filling. Still very tasty, but definitely not what I've become used to!

Although I had initially anticipated doing this leg of my trip solo, I was conveniently able to meet up with L, a friend from Sciences Po, in Rome. We spent Thursday afternoon dodging rain showers (side-note: I mentioned my good weather karma earlier. That afternoon in Rome was the only time I encountered rain -- even though it had been predicted, in both Florence and Rome, for the entire week I was in Italy. Good luck, indeed.) while doing what Rick Steves calls the "Caesar Shuffle": Palatine Hill, the Forum, and the Pantheon. And of course, we ate gelato in celebration (Gelato #6. Unfortunate side-note: the gelato in Rome was something of a letdown after my experiences in Florence. But it was still good!)

We stumbled upon the Piazza Navona in our search for a highly recommended, yet surprisingly well-hidden, spot for aperitivi. Afterward, not willing to turn in early on our first night in Rome, we joined the rest of the college-aged Romans (and a lot of spring-breakers) for some late-night pizza.

On Friday, we walked. A lot. We started out at the Galleria Doria Pamphilj: highlights included Titian's Salome and Velazquez's portrait and Bernini's bust of Pope Innocent X (a member of the Pamphilj family). We navigated our way across town, with the help of our matching French Lonely Planet guides (this was a complete coincidence) and saw the Trevi Fountain (gelato #7) and Spanish Steps on our way to the Villa Borghese. We couldn't go inside the Villa itself, which houses one of the world's most famous private art collections, because you have to reserve tickets weeks in advance. However, we were perfectly content to picnic (fresh mozzarella, focaccia bread and prosecco, yum) in the gardens and enjoy the greenery until the sun set.

We had dinner in a restaurant next to the Pantheon (Rome's original version, which looks very different from the Parisian interpretation around the corner from my apartment!) and were serenaded during our meal by an opera student, taking advantage of the crowds of tourists in the piazza.

On Saturday, L and I dragged ourselves out the door bright and early to head for the Vatican. As luck would have it, we timed it exactly right and only had to wait about 40 minutes to get into the museum. As per Rick Steves' suggestion (notice a trend?) we started with the Sistine Chapel and worked our way backward, managing to avoid the worst of the crowds. After an all-too brief visit to St. Peter's Basilica (again, I realize now how little I appreciated this during my school trip in high school), we decided to spend our last afternoon wandering at will.

A gelato shop hidden away in a decidedly untouristy neighborhood (gelato #8); an international grocery mecca where I bought organic olive oil for my host mom; a 24-hour bakery (why don't we have these in Paris?); and yet another glorious art gallery housed in yet another incredible villa (the Galleria Nazionale d'Arte Antica in the Palazzo Corsini) later, and we arrived in Trastevere, a small, colorful neighborhood that reminded me quite a bit of Florence.

After a coffee break to rest our feet and our art-saturated brains, we explored for a bit. L went in search of Saturday night services at the synagogue across the river while I stopped by the Museo di Roma in Trastevere, a small museum that describes the history of Trastevere through photos and watercolors. I met up with L afterward, and we decided to snack our way through Trastevere for dinner: aperitivi at a hip bar crowded with tourists and locals alike; penne all'arrabbiata (my favorite) at a tiny little pasta restaurant in a quiet corner; dessert in the cafe of a bookstore featuring a classical piano concert. We walked back along the Tiber to our hotel, then crashed into bed after a very long day.

Part 2: Firenze

I left Nice on Saturday morning and spent most of the day on the train to Florence. I intended to take advantage of that time to study for my midterms and work on a few papers that I have coming up...oops. I should have known better. Still, I did get a little work done, and I decided not to feel guilty about not being more productive because I was on vacation.

My trip to Florence required me to take a local train from Nice to Milan, then a high-speed train from Milan to Florence. Despite leaving myself plenty of time to make the connection, my first train got to Milan nearly an hour late, meaning that I missed my second train by just a few minutes. I was pretty frustrated and more than a little overwhelmed by the busy Milan train station. I think I understimated how shocking it would be to arrive in a country where I don't speak the language -- my first instinct was to speak in French, even though I knew it was the wrong language. Still, after taking a few minutes to breathe and get my bearings, I managed to find the next train to Florence and hopped on without any problems.

K, my friend from Georgetown who has been studying in Florence all year, met me at the station and helped me find my hostel. After a delicious pasta dinner (I had ravioli stuffed with cheese and asparagus), I was completely wiped out and crashed into bed. The next day, Sunday, was Easter. K and I attended the Scoppio del Carro -- a Florentine tradition dating back to the Crusades where a cart is wheeled through the city to the Duomo, the main church. The priest celebrating Easter mass lights a spark during the "Gloria in excelsis Deo" that travels down a fuse to the cart, setting off the fireworks within. It's sort of hard to describe, but it was pretty amazing.

We wandered around the city in the afternoon, soaking in the sunshine and of course stopping for gelato (Gelato #2). K's host family very kindly invited me to dinner that evening, and it was pretty cool to watch an Italian family "in action." It's definitely a different dynamic from my French host family -- more laid-back, I think, and the relationship between parents and children doesn't seem quite as rigid. And of course, the food was delicious!

On Monday morning, K and I visited the Palazzo Vecchio, a former residence of the Medici family that now serves as the town hall. The palazzo itself was beautiful...but I was most excited to see Machiavelli's office! In the afternoon, I visited the Uffizi Gallery (thank you, Rick Steves, for suggesting that I reserve my ticket in advance -- the lines were pretty crazy). I had been there before during my high school orchestra's trip to Italy. However, our visit coincided with the afternoon that everyone came down with a nasty virus, so I definitely did not appreciate it fully the first time around. In fact, I don't even remember seeing Boticelli's Birth of Venus, one of my favorite Renaissance-era paintings. I'm very glad I went back because now I have much more vivid memories!

B, my friend from middle school who visited me in Paris, met me outside the gallery (I believe we went for Gelato #3 at this point), and I stayed with her at her apartment for the rest of my visit. On Tuesday morning, we went to the Bargello museum, and B gave me a guided tour of the sculptures she's been studying in her art history class this semester. In the afternoon, while she was in class, I went to the Palazzo Pitti, essentially the Florentine version of Versailles, and relaxed in the Boboli Gardens -- sort of like my own Jardin du Luxembourg, only in Italy, you're allowed to sit on the grass!

On Wednesday morning, we went to an outdoor market and picked up the most delicious strawberries and blood-red oranges. I intended to go to Pisa that afternoon, but unfortunately I encountered my second Italian train dilemma. I still maintain that the announcement made over the intercom (in English, no less) said that the train to Pisa was leaving from track 18...however, that was most certainly not the case. I ended up in a little town called Rufina about half an hour outside of Florence. After determining that there was nothing of touristic interest to be found there, I had to wait an hour to catch the next train back to Florence. By this point, it was too late in the afternoon to try to make it to Pisa, so I decided to cut my losses and went to the Santa Croce Church instead.

It ended up being perhaps my favorite afternoon in Florence. The church was really interesting -- Dante, Michelangelo, and Machiavelli are buried there, among others -- and after I had my fill, I found a spot on the piazza in front of it to people-watch while enjoying gelato (Gelato #4 and my favorite combination: dark chocolate and strawberry cheesecake) in the sunshine. B, K, and I all met up for "aperitivo" that evening, a brilliant Italian invention in which bars offer a buffet of various hors d'oeuvres during their version of a "happy hour." It is expected that you will buy a drink and then munch your way through the buffet, composed of all sorts of yummy pasta, rice, and vegetable dishes, for dinner.

I may or may not have indulged in Gelato #5 afterward to celebrate my last night in Tuscany... I'll leave it up to you to guess.

Part 1: Nice

I skipped two of my classes on Friday (shh, don't tell OIP) in order to gain two extra travel days. I left Paris by train on Thursday morning and arrived in Nice by mid-afternoon. I was a little nervous because the weather was cool and cloudy when I arrived, but I must have saved up some excellent weather karma (this will be a recurring theme for the rest of the trip) because it cleared up quickly and was beautiful for the rest of my stay.



The first afternoon, I wandered around a bit to get my bearings and made my way toward the beach. I had visions of lounging on the warm sand, book in hand...not realizing that the Cote d'Azur is famous for its white stone beaches. Yes, stone, not sand. Not so great for lounging, but perfect for sipping tea in a beachfront cafe and watching happy dogs and children splash in the waves. Sadly, it was just a bit too cold for me to have any inclination to join them.

On Friday, I let myself sleep in a little -- after all, this was my vacation -- before grabbing a coffee and croissant on my way to the Russian Orthodox Cathedral. It was built by Tsar Nicholas II so that all the Russian tourists in the French Riviera would have a place to go to church during their summer holidays on the shore. I seem to have a habit of stumbling upon "unusual" houses of worship in the cities I visit...Orthodox church in Nice, mosque in Paris, synagogue in Florence, etc.



I slowly wandered my way back toward the old city center. I followed the Promenade des Anglais, lined with all the ritzy hotels and restaurants, for a bit, then detoured to the Musée Massena, which turned out to be part art, part history museum, housed in a beautiful Napoleonic era château. I caught the tail end of the city's main outdoor market, the Cours Saleya, before going in search of lunch. I decided to let myself get lost in the narrow, winding maze of streets, and I eventually found myself in Place Rossetti, described by Rick Steves as a piazza straight out of Naples. This seemed like an appropriate lunch spot, given my future travel plans, so I found a slightly shaded table from which to people watch before heading to the famous gelato stand next door. (Gelato #1)



At this point, I was starting to get worn out from the sun and crowds, so I decided head to the top of the Colline du Château to relax for a bit. Despite being a key tourist attraction, it was surprisingly peaceful at the top, and the view was well worth the climb. I parked myself on a bench with my book and stayed long enough to enjoy the sunset.



When it came time to start thinking about dinner, I decided to track down one of the places recommended in my guidebook...but with no success. One was closed, one was completely full, and I never did find the third. Slightly disappointed, I made my way back to Place Rossetti and ate one of the other restaurants there. As a pleasant surprise, though, I got to watch (and later join) the Stations of the Cross led by the Eglise Sainte-Reparate in observance of Good Friday. The congregation started in Place Rossetti and wound its way all the way through the old city center. It was beautiful.

After getting more than a little lost on my way back to the hotel -- I blame the winding streets and not my poor sense of direction -- I crashed into bed in order to get a good night's sleep before leaving for Florence the next morning.

Les vacances de Pâques

I find it amusing that in a country renowned for its secularism in all other aspects of life, my school still refers to spring break as the "Easter holidays". Go figure.

Whatever you choose to call it, we had our mid-semester break last week. Before I talk about the break itself, I would pause on this point for a moment. It's important for a few reasons. First, it is a very clear reminder that my time in Paris is halfway over, and I know that the second half is going to fly by even faster than the first. I have midterms this week (but I'm trying not to think about, let alone write about, that right now); my friend RM is visiting from St. Petersburg this weekend; I'm going to Barcelona the weekend after that; and then it will be May already. Crazy.

Even crazier, I realized this afternoon that while I am halfway through my semester, most of my friends at home are almost finished with theirs. Georgetown's classes end next week. All of my senior friends are getting ready for graduation, and everyone else is counting down the days until summer vacation. This is another, different kind of reminder that I chose to be in a very different place right now. I don't feel sad about it...in fact, I don't really feel any kind of strong emotion, just a mild sense of surprise and recognition.

And on that pensive note, I will begin the retelling of my spring break adventures. As a quick overview, I took a 10 day trip to Nice, France, and Florence and Rome, Italy. I'll write a separate entry for each location, rather than one epic post...

Maman et Papa à Paris

It's been a while since I updated this, but I promise I have a very good reason: my mom and dad came to visit me last week, and between doing fun stuff with them and still managing to make it to my classes, I was kept very (albeit pleasantly) busy.

They arrived on Sunday morning, and after a quick breakfast and some essential caffeine, we hopped a bus (the one I take to school) for a ride along the Seine in the direction of the Eiffel Tower. We wandered around for a bit, but it was a bit too cold and windy for a leisurely stroll. Instead, we headed back near my apartment and their hotel, to the Marché Mouffetard, my favorite outdoor market. We stopped for a fondue lunch and had fun peeking in all the various stores and stalls. After a short nap for Mom and Dad, with warm cheese in our bellies and the sun breaking through the clouds, we decided to try to walk in the Jardin du Luxembourg. I was surprised at how crowded it was -- I think tourist season is officially in full swing. Once we soaked in our share of sun, it was time to go back to my apartment for dinner with my host family. Janine very thoughtfully insisted on having my parents and a few of my friends from Sciences Po over for dinner, and we even turned it into a combined early/belated birthday party for my dad and me. I made the cake, which was one of the more interesting experiences I have had here so far. The recipe called for one "soup spoon" of flour...that's right, the French don't have measuring spoons the way we think of them. It turned out as a sort of flourless chocolate cake with a matte glaze on top. It tasted pretty good, if I do say so myself, but it was not at all what I was expecting!

This entry could easily go on forever, so I will try to summarize the rest of the week's events briefly:

Monday: My parents and I went to the Musée de Cluny (a museum of the Middle Ages that is down the street from me, across from the Sorbonne) in the morning, then I left for class. In the evening, I met them for dinner at a really cool restaurant where I had a vegetable "millefeuille". I was intrigued when I saw this on the menu because a millefeuille is usually a type of dessert made with layers of pastry and custard. My millefeuille was like a vegetable lasagna, but without the pasta. Yum! After dinner, we went to a jazz show for the opening night of the Paris Jazz Festival.

Tuesday: We initially planned on going to the Eiffel Tower in the morning (because even though I have lived here for 2 months, I still have not been up in it) but got discouraged by the crowds. It was not nearly that busy even when B was here just a few weeks ago! Instead, we went to the Musée du Quai Branly, which I had been wanting to visit for a while. It specializes in non-European art and civilizations. In the afternoon, we (i.e. my mom and I, and my dad humored us) window-shopped our way through the 6th arrondissement before depositing my dad in a park to check out Le Bon Marché, a huge and very famous department store. We took a break for some Berthillon ice cream, and then I left again for class.

Wednesday: I left my mom and dad to their own devices in the morning because I had class...which turned out to be canceled. Zut. I met up with them again after lunch, though, and we took a walking tour of Paris' two islands: Ile de la Cité and Ile St-Louis. After the tour, we stopped by a little hole-in-the-wall bistrot that my mom found in her guidebook for wine (my parents), tea (me -- I was fighting off a cold), and a delicious assortment of cheeses. I went back to class (there's a trend developing here) and then crashed into bed after discovering the NyQuil hidden in the bottom of my suitcase.

Thursday: This may have been my favorite day of the visit. We took the train about a half hour outside of Paris to Versailles and spent most of the day there. I wasn't terribly fond of the chateau itself. There were way too many tourists shoving past one another, and I happen to think that the Louvre is the more beautiful palace, even if (or perhaps because) it's less gilded and sparkly. (But then we all know how I feel about the Louvre.) However, a half hour walk into the grounds brought us to "La domaine de Marie-Antoinette", composed of two smaller chateaux, a summer house, and my personal favorite "the hamlet". Yes, I realize it is completely ridiculous that Marie-Antoinette constructed her own small village in her backyard and that it is representative of the worst excesses of the French aristocracy...but they had bunnies! And goats, sheep, chickens, cows, etc. By the looks of it, the powers-that-be are still keeping the farm operational, and the result was a very pleasant "country" ramble. The formal gardens closer to main palace were very beautiful as well, with everything just beginning to bloom. We even got lucky a few times and happened upon some fountains as the maintenance crews were testing them. Oh, and I forgot to mention one other thing: the weather was absolutely perfect. 70 degrees and sunny. That, combined with all the green things, made it a perfect spring day.

Friday: In the morning, we took a walking tour in the 10th arrondissement, along the Canal St-Martin. This sentence requires a bit of an explanation. I was surprised that my mom's guidebook listed a walking tour in the 10th. It's not exactly a bad part of town, but it's definitely not very touristy. It's much more residential, and two of the main train stations are over there -- all in all, not quite what comes to mind when you picture a walking tour. However, the canal itself was pretty, and we stumbled upon another of Paris's many outdoor markets. It's a part of the city that I barely know at all, so it was nice to have a chance to explore a bit. After a yummy lunch at a pretty interesting and eclectic cafe -- warning: I am looking for a chance to take one of my many visitors back there -- I was, you guessed it, back to class. I met my parents back on rue Mouffetard afterward for dessert to celebrate their last night in Paris.

Saturday: I met my mom and dad for a quick breakfast at "our" patisserie across the street from their hotel before their shuttle came to take them to the airport. I spent the rest of Saturday doing absolutely nothing. It was like all the adrenaline rushed out of me. I wasn't tired enough to nap, but after forcing myself to run a few errands, I didn't have the energy to go out and do anything else. I decided that I deserved a break after such a busy week, and proceeded to spend most of the afternoon watching movies and catching up on a bit of reading for school.

Sunday: I went to Palm Sunday services at the American Cathedral, where I was slightly disappointed to realize that they don't process outside at the beginning of the service. My guess is that it has something to do with the laicité laws regarding public religious displays...either that, or it's just not practical to move a congregation of perhaps 200 people around an entire city block. One of the two.

I used Sunday afternoon to get myself organized: I am leaving on my spring break adventure in only 3 days! I have my train tickets, the confirmations for my various hotels and hostels, and I have reserved my ticket for the Uffizi Gallery in Florence (meaning I won't have to stand in line for hours). This is my first trip of the semester, and while I'm actually a little sad to be sacrificing 10 whole days worth of exploring Paris, I know it will be worth it. I'm excited!

I will be taking my computer with me (sadly, it's in order to get some necessary work done on the train) so keep an eye out for updates during my travels.

A perfect day

I had quite a bit of reading to do for tomorrow, but I wanted to get out of the house since I didn't have any class today. I spent the day at the Louvre, reading and wandering around the exhibits whenever I needed a break. I learned about the EU's agriculture policies while sitting next to the tablet of Hammurabi's Code. I treated myself to lunch in a cafe at the museum and had tea and a chocolate muffin later in the afternoon. It was such a peaceful, relaxing day. Wonderful, exactly what I needed.

Bouleverser

"Bouleverser" is a really great verb. We don't have an exact translation in English; the closest we can get is "to move deeply," "to overwhelm," or "to turn upside-down". I would hazard a guess that every foreign exchange student in France has probably felt bouleversé at some point. Before I explain the events of today that led to this profound realization, a (hopefully) brief recap of the past week:

Last weekend, my good friend from middle school arrived from Florence to spend her spring break in Paris. It's hard to describe what it felt like to see such a familiar face in such a foreign (albeit increasingly familiar and certainly beloved) place. Simply put, it was weird, but very very nice! We then embarked on a whirlwind tour of Paris: the Jardin du Luxembourg, the Pantheon, the Marché Mouffetard, the Jardin des Plantes, the Mosquée de Paris, Notre-Dame, the Moulin Rouge, the Eiffel Tower, Place des Vosges and the Marais district, the Louvre, etc. Due to my classes and other commitments, I wasn't able to spend as much time with B as I would have liked, but she was traveling with other friends anyway so it worked out well.

On Monday night, I went to the theater with one of my host sisters and her boyfriend/husband/partner/still haven't figured this one out. It was a comedy called "Exercices de style"...and it was funny! If I say so myself, I was impressed with how much I was able to understand. Some elements of humor (physical comedy, facial expressions, etc.) transcend language, but others are inherent within it. I once heard someone say that you know you have mastered a language when you are able to make someone laugh -- and not due to your mistakes. Anyway, the point of the story is that the show was incredibly funny, and I had a wonderful time in great company. My host sister is about 10 years older than me, and I've been enjoying getting to know her a little better. She has a quirky sense of style and humor, and she never simplifies things for me. We talk current events and joke around. Even though she's older than me, we share a sort of bond as "daughters of the house". It's nice to feel normal!

In contrast, Friday was a pretty rough day. I spent most of last week preparing for 2 exposés in my discussion sections on Friday. The second one went well. It was a little nerve-wracking because I had to discuss/critique the presentation of another of my classmates, but I made it through and got a positive reaction from the professor. The first one, on the other hand, was pretty disastrous. The topic was "Have we moved from a French Europe to a German Europe?" Now, if my partner and I were European, maybe we would have some sort of frame of reference for that question! As it was, we had to do extensive background research, and as a result we were completely overwhelmed and didn't know how to approach the subject. Apparently, we didn't do it the way the professor wanted us to, so he proceeded to grill us in front of the class (for nearly 30 minutes) on the finer points of the past 10 years of Franco-German relations and balance of power. Ouch. However, the other students in the class seemed to feel sympathy for us -- as I sat down, one girl leaned over and told me that my French was very good. It wasn't much comfort at the time, but it makes me smile now!

Saturday was a much better day. I survived the French ophthalmologist (more on that later) and I booked my spring break travel plans. Over a period of 10 days, I will be visiting Nice, France, and Florence and Rome, Italy. I'm actually looking forward to traveling on my own. I can't wait to go exploring and discover these cities at my own pace, free to follow my own whims.

Flash-forward to today. I got to school early because the student organization is sponsoring a trip to Barcelona at the end of April, and I wanted to buy a ticket. I walked into the cafeteria and discovered absolute chaos. I had a sudden flashback (my first) to the online cultural orientation that Georgetown made us complete. There are little diagrams illustrating how people in various cultures relate to the space around them. In the U.S., we are very line oriented: single file, wait your turn. In France, it's more like a giant, pushy blob where you have to fight your way to the front. Once I entered the crowd, I could barely breathe from being crushed so tightly. I couldn't even move enough to turn around and leave. Despite a few moments of silent panic, I decided to stick it out -- after all, if it doesn't kill the French, it won't kill me -- and I prevailed! I got one of the last spots on the trip. I am especially excited because several of my friends from Georgetown who are studying in Spain are planning on meeting me in Barcelona. So much travel, so little time!

This afternoon, I had a follow-up appointment with the ophthalmologist. At my first appointment, she determined that I had an infection in my eye and prescribed some drops (which I had to mix myself from a powder) and an ointment (to be applied directly to the eye. Yes, I double-checked. Twice.) On Saturday, I left feeling highly optimistic and wondering why people ever doubt the French health care system. Today, I am feeling considerably less impressed. I had to wait over an hour to see the doctor, and all she said was that my eye looked better and I should schedule another appointment in two weeks. My reaction: the culture shock standby, "You want me to do what??" My impression has been that at home, when you have a follow-up visit, you don't generally have to schedule another one unless there's something wrong. So that's a little annoying.

My annoyance was magnified when I got stuck in a protest on my way home. Yes, this was completely unintentional, OIP. I had no idea that the giant "manifestation" would turn the corner just as I tried to cross the street to my apartment. I will hand it to the protesters, though, they had some pretty spiffy slogans. One group even composed an original song. However, I was not quite as impressed earlier this afternoon when it took me at least 15 minutes to get to the door of my apartment building. What is it with the French and crowd control, hm?

Nevertheless, in a perfect example of how life in Paris is never all bad, my day completely turned around during Arabic class tonight when my professor casually mentioned that he would like to invite our class to his house. In Tunis. Yes, the Tunis that is in Tunisia. My Arabic class is planning a field trip to Tunisia! Right now it's kind of an administrative nightmare because there are around 12 of us, and we need to find a weekend that works and get approval from Sciences Po, let alone airfare, etc. But still, I might be going to Tunis! I'm trying not to get my hopes up until I have more information, but I can't believe that this is even a possibility. Wow. Je suis completement bouleversée.

Now, it is time for me to put myself to bed. I have the last of my gauntlet of exposés tomorrow -- this one is on the significance of urban planning in the Chicago 2016 Olympic Bid process. Wish me "bon courage"!