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"!