Oops! It has been quite a while.
Well I got all of my homework done and all of my things packed. I finished my exams, I said good-bye to Paris, and I jumped on a flight back home. I was lucky enough to fly home without delay or cancellation, something not many travelers enjoyed this holiday season. I had a movie moment with my family, got my luggage, and drove home. The end.
It would be nice to have some insightful closing words for this blog, but closing words are not something I'm good at. And my Paris experience isn't over yet. I'm still learning and processing trying to understand all of the things that this experience has meant for me. It's a whole lot to think about.
If any of you would like to hear more about my experience, feel free to ask me about it. As for this blog, it will end here. I have to go back to McKendree, debate, write a thesis, see my friends, learn and graduate. I have quite a bit to catch up on in my American life, and I couldn't be more excited. It feels wonderful to be home.
As I said to my friends in France, I don't do goodbyes. It's just too heavy a word. So - as I said to them and to Paris - see you later!
Tuesday, December 30, 2008
Saturday, December 13, 2008
Too much school work, too little vin chaud
I have been doing almost nothing other than schoolwork for the past week and a half, so I don’t have much to report. Oh! I went to a Christmas market last week. Christmas markets are apparently a very big deal in Europe. In most countries they go on for about a month leading up to Christmas. They are huge affairs where dozens of vendors line up in small tents along a street (there is one along the Champs-Elysee) or in an open square (there’s another one in the center of an industrial complex at the edge of Paris). The tents are interspersed with food vendors (tortellini, beef sandwiches with melted cheese, waffles with nutella, crepes, etc.) and hot spiced wine (vin chaud) stands. I’m told that the hot wine stands are the main appeal, for their talent at keeping friends warm and fuzzy around the edges. I visited a large market at the edge of the city last Sunday, and my friends and I are planning to return again this Sunday. Hopefully I will have enough of my work done to make the trip! It was beautiful.
Last night I visited the Louvre for the umpteenth time. Friday nights are free for students, so I have been spending a few hours there every Friday for the last couple of weeks. I think the Friday Night Louvre has become my favorite place in Paris. The outside of the museum is stunning, and at night the inside seems even more …whimsical? I’m not sure how to describe it. Imagine yourself walking around a castle, surrounded by wonders of the ancient world, priceless works of art and the comfort of nighttime. I don’t look at a map, just walk, and I have seen something new every week. The size of the museum is baffling, and every artifact or piece of art has something to say. I have a favorite painting I like to stand in front of every week – it’s not popular and not near anything noteworthy, so I usually have all the space and time I need to stare at it forever. Basically, the Friday Night Louvre is a dream. I will be sad to give it up!
I’m down to single digits. 8 days left! It is unreal to think that these months have gone by so quickly, and yet many weeks have felt so tortuously long. One of my roommates, who has become a good friend of mine, is leaving next Friday morning. She experienced her first Last Day (it was her last Friday in Paris) yesterday and I asked her how it felt. “It doesn’t feel any different,” she said. “Home still seems so far away.”
Part of this is the fact that we are in the midst of exams and have a whole lot of work to do, but I think part of this is the gap that exists between our last look at Paris and our first look at home. We will not just be crossing time zones and borders, but we will be crossing that invisible line which has divided our lives here from our lives back home. Our lives here seem to be happening in an alternate dimension of sorts – we were plucked from our individual lives, dropped into this collective home, and then told to continue on our way. It is impossible for us to even conceive of what life will be like when we get home, not to mention envision ourselves as a part of it. Our friends will have new inside jokes, jokes we aren’t a part of. Our classmates will have learned things we didn’t learn here. It’s not going to feel the same, but we don’t know what’s going to feel different. Yet. I’m giving it 8 days…
Last night I visited the Louvre for the umpteenth time. Friday nights are free for students, so I have been spending a few hours there every Friday for the last couple of weeks. I think the Friday Night Louvre has become my favorite place in Paris. The outside of the museum is stunning, and at night the inside seems even more …whimsical? I’m not sure how to describe it. Imagine yourself walking around a castle, surrounded by wonders of the ancient world, priceless works of art and the comfort of nighttime. I don’t look at a map, just walk, and I have seen something new every week. The size of the museum is baffling, and every artifact or piece of art has something to say. I have a favorite painting I like to stand in front of every week – it’s not popular and not near anything noteworthy, so I usually have all the space and time I need to stare at it forever. Basically, the Friday Night Louvre is a dream. I will be sad to give it up!
I’m down to single digits. 8 days left! It is unreal to think that these months have gone by so quickly, and yet many weeks have felt so tortuously long. One of my roommates, who has become a good friend of mine, is leaving next Friday morning. She experienced her first Last Day (it was her last Friday in Paris) yesterday and I asked her how it felt. “It doesn’t feel any different,” she said. “Home still seems so far away.”
Part of this is the fact that we are in the midst of exams and have a whole lot of work to do, but I think part of this is the gap that exists between our last look at Paris and our first look at home. We will not just be crossing time zones and borders, but we will be crossing that invisible line which has divided our lives here from our lives back home. Our lives here seem to be happening in an alternate dimension of sorts – we were plucked from our individual lives, dropped into this collective home, and then told to continue on our way. It is impossible for us to even conceive of what life will be like when we get home, not to mention envision ourselves as a part of it. Our friends will have new inside jokes, jokes we aren’t a part of. Our classmates will have learned things we didn’t learn here. It’s not going to feel the same, but we don’t know what’s going to feel different. Yet. I’m giving it 8 days…
Wednesday, December 10, 2008
The year that won't happen
I now understand why people say that you need to live somewhere for a year in order to fully experience it. My journey will total only four months when all is done, and that time can be described in segments:
Month 1: Learn neighborhood, school, grocery store and other essential locations. Work on not feeling like a tourist.
Month 2: Learn Europe. Learn people, learn friends, learn lessons.
Month 3: Miss home.
Month 4: Begin the simultaneously slow and lightning-speed countdown to departure day.
Where’s the “live life in Paris” part? It is distributed throughout, but not concentrated anywhere. It is always an option, never a priority. It is secondary to the other emotions, tasks and lessons that consume four months in a matter of blinks.
Though I feel a bit like I cheated, I think four months was just right for me. Maybe I never really “live[d] life in Paris”, but I also never really wanted to. There are too many things missing from a life for me here. Nobody to talk American politics with, nobody to debate, no local coffee shop featuring young heartthrobs on an acoustic guitar, no car for me to run to when I need to feel free from the world, no family, no old friends to keep me grounded. Maybe I only got a taste of the full helping that would be a year in Paris, but that taste taught me all I need to know. I don’t want to spend a year in Paris.
I don’t much want to spend a year anywhere else around the world, for that matter. This trip, unexpectedly, revealed to me that Home is more important than I thought it was. I always thought I could, and would, leave my family and my hometown behind. My family has been there for generations now, but I always thought one of my siblings would take up the reins and settle down while I was off traveling the state, the country or the world and making things happen. I can’t say for sure that I will never head off, but I can say that I will always come home. I have come to understand why my sister moved back home after building a new life a new life a state away. Our family is one of those lucky ones, one of those families where everyone has their own heart and their own life, but everyone has a piece of each other, too. We need each other. My life is a little less full without them around, and I’m ready to have them back.
I have loved so much about this trip and this place, and I have had experiences I will spend the rest of my life wishing I could have all over again. I am appreciative for every day that I have here and I am still struck by the beauty that is Paris. But it will all be over in 1 week and 4 days and I have to admit I'm a bit relieved. I will miss Paris, but...
Monday, December 8, 2008
A little late, but...
Oops! It has been quite a while since I updated here…sorry about that! I got wrapped up in my school work and dwindling day count and forgot that people actually read my blog until my brother sent me an email wondering what was going on and why I hadn’t posted. My apologies! The update:
I have an insane amount of work to do. I think I have mentioned before that the French system is a little strange in that it does not assign any work until the end of the semester, at which point students are totally overloaded with assignments. Well, it is the end of the semester (last week of classes before exams in the first half of next week) and I am totally overloaded. I have a project and/or presentation in every class, exams in all but one class, and two 30-page research papers to write. Mind you, these assignments are the only assignments I have had all semester, so my grades are being determined based on my performance on these assignments. The system does not make sense to me. Not only is it ridiculous to expect that I will turn in stellar work when I need 2 months to effectively complete what I am being expected to do in 2 weeks, but I cannot figure out why these professors are making their own lives so miserable. Two 30 page papers? These are both assigned by the same professor. He is expecting a 30 page paper from every student in 2 of his classes, so we are talking somewhere in the vicinity of 1,200 1.5 spaced pages he thinks he is going to read in the one week between paper due date and grade due date. Really?? Why would you do that to yourself?
More than the stress of having way too much to do, I am dealing with the stress of an educational system I don’t understand. Did you know that in Europe, failing classes is normal business? Your final grades are based on either 1, 2, or (if your professor is generous) 3 grades you earn throughout the semester. This means that if you mess one thing up, you either fail or are stuck with a grade in the C range. One mess up! I don’t get it. And I am more than a little scared. My GPA is pretty solid right now, and although these grades will not go into my GPA, they will appear on my transcript. I can’t imagine having to explain a “C” to the law schools I want to get into.
As you may have guessed, this means that I will not be going on any more trips. I have too much work to do and not enough time to do it the way it is. The only weekend that I would be free enough to go anywhere is the last weekend that I am here, but I don’t want to take a trip during my last weekend in Paris. I want to spend the weekend appreciating the city and my friends and my experience here – AND finishing up the gift shopping I still need to do for my family. And myself. :)
I only have two weeks left! It is amazing to me to think that two weeks from today, right now, I will be on a plane on my way home. It is still more amazing to think that another two weeks after that I will be on my way back to McKendree! I feel so far away from that whole world right now – my whole world – and it is strange to think of myself back in it. Strange, but relieving. It will feel so good to be back.
I have an insane amount of work to do. I think I have mentioned before that the French system is a little strange in that it does not assign any work until the end of the semester, at which point students are totally overloaded with assignments. Well, it is the end of the semester (last week of classes before exams in the first half of next week) and I am totally overloaded. I have a project and/or presentation in every class, exams in all but one class, and two 30-page research papers to write. Mind you, these assignments are the only assignments I have had all semester, so my grades are being determined based on my performance on these assignments. The system does not make sense to me. Not only is it ridiculous to expect that I will turn in stellar work when I need 2 months to effectively complete what I am being expected to do in 2 weeks, but I cannot figure out why these professors are making their own lives so miserable. Two 30 page papers? These are both assigned by the same professor. He is expecting a 30 page paper from every student in 2 of his classes, so we are talking somewhere in the vicinity of 1,200 1.5 spaced pages he thinks he is going to read in the one week between paper due date and grade due date. Really?? Why would you do that to yourself?
More than the stress of having way too much to do, I am dealing with the stress of an educational system I don’t understand. Did you know that in Europe, failing classes is normal business? Your final grades are based on either 1, 2, or (if your professor is generous) 3 grades you earn throughout the semester. This means that if you mess one thing up, you either fail or are stuck with a grade in the C range. One mess up! I don’t get it. And I am more than a little scared. My GPA is pretty solid right now, and although these grades will not go into my GPA, they will appear on my transcript. I can’t imagine having to explain a “C” to the law schools I want to get into.
As you may have guessed, this means that I will not be going on any more trips. I have too much work to do and not enough time to do it the way it is. The only weekend that I would be free enough to go anywhere is the last weekend that I am here, but I don’t want to take a trip during my last weekend in Paris. I want to spend the weekend appreciating the city and my friends and my experience here – AND finishing up the gift shopping I still need to do for my family. And myself. :)
I only have two weeks left! It is amazing to me to think that two weeks from today, right now, I will be on a plane on my way home. It is still more amazing to think that another two weeks after that I will be on my way back to McKendree! I feel so far away from that whole world right now – my whole world – and it is strange to think of myself back in it. Strange, but relieving. It will feel so good to be back.
Friday, November 28, 2008
Thanksgiving
This year I celebrated Thanksgiving without my family for the first time in 20 years. I’d like it to be another 20 years at least before I have to do that again. I had a wonderful evening, but it just wasn’t Thanksgiving without my family and my mom’s pumpkin pie. If you’ve ever missed Thanksgiving with your family, I’m sure you know exactly what I mean.
As it was, my Thanksgiving was not too bad. I met my half-American, half-Norwegian friend and her American friend who was visiting and we went to the Hard Rock Café. Very American! We didn’t have reservations so we had to wait a little more than an hour for a table but we didn’t mind. We sat at the bar and had cocktails, speaking English and savoring the feeling of being surrounded by other Americans. (The place was packed with Americans in Paris looking for a taste of home on Thanksgiving.) They were offering a Thanksgiving menu with turkey, mashed potatoes, cranberry sauce and pie, but it was pretty pricey and I knew the pie would just be disappointing. So I ordered a cheeseburger and a beer and stuffed myself.
After dinner my friends went clubbing but I could not bring myself to spend Thanksgiving clubbing. I went back to my friends’ apartment and used their internet to call my family. Everyone was at my grandparents, so I got to talk to everyone and see everyone on the webcam and it was really great. It still sucked to be missing out on being there, but I felt better being a part of it via computer for at least a little while. I took the liberty of reminding my mother that there are a few Christmas traditions I will be expecting to enjoy this year, including decorating cut-out cookies and eating comfits on Christmas morning. She laughed. Of course she wouldn’t neglect these things, but she knows that I need to remind myself that home will still be home when I come back.
Home will still be home, and my life will still be my life. There will still be classes and debate and my friends and my car, but I know they are going to be different. Not tangibly, but in my mind something will have changed and I will no longer feel the same way that I felt in my life before I came here. That is a scary thought. I knew when I signed up for this that it would mean big changes in my life and my world-view, but I didn’t realize how unstable it would make me feel. Now I know why you are supposed to study abroad during your junior year. I am a senior, so I am making decisions about graduate school and my future, and all while in the midst of a life-changing experience. I feel like I’m not equipped to make any of these decisions right now because I don’t know how I’m going to feel about my life when I get back to America. And yet. I am forging forward with these decisions and trusting that whatever I decide when I get home, I will have had the foresight to leave that option open. This adventure is not going to end when I get on a plane on December 22nd.
Will this adventure ever end?
As it was, my Thanksgiving was not too bad. I met my half-American, half-Norwegian friend and her American friend who was visiting and we went to the Hard Rock Café. Very American! We didn’t have reservations so we had to wait a little more than an hour for a table but we didn’t mind. We sat at the bar and had cocktails, speaking English and savoring the feeling of being surrounded by other Americans. (The place was packed with Americans in Paris looking for a taste of home on Thanksgiving.) They were offering a Thanksgiving menu with turkey, mashed potatoes, cranberry sauce and pie, but it was pretty pricey and I knew the pie would just be disappointing. So I ordered a cheeseburger and a beer and stuffed myself.
After dinner my friends went clubbing but I could not bring myself to spend Thanksgiving clubbing. I went back to my friends’ apartment and used their internet to call my family. Everyone was at my grandparents, so I got to talk to everyone and see everyone on the webcam and it was really great. It still sucked to be missing out on being there, but I felt better being a part of it via computer for at least a little while. I took the liberty of reminding my mother that there are a few Christmas traditions I will be expecting to enjoy this year, including decorating cut-out cookies and eating comfits on Christmas morning. She laughed. Of course she wouldn’t neglect these things, but she knows that I need to remind myself that home will still be home when I come back.
Home will still be home, and my life will still be my life. There will still be classes and debate and my friends and my car, but I know they are going to be different. Not tangibly, but in my mind something will have changed and I will no longer feel the same way that I felt in my life before I came here. That is a scary thought. I knew when I signed up for this that it would mean big changes in my life and my world-view, but I didn’t realize how unstable it would make me feel. Now I know why you are supposed to study abroad during your junior year. I am a senior, so I am making decisions about graduate school and my future, and all while in the midst of a life-changing experience. I feel like I’m not equipped to make any of these decisions right now because I don’t know how I’m going to feel about my life when I get back to America. And yet. I am forging forward with these decisions and trusting that whatever I decide when I get home, I will have had the foresight to leave that option open. This adventure is not going to end when I get on a plane on December 22nd.
Will this adventure ever end?
Sunday, November 23, 2008
A Royal Weekend
Another trip, another stamp in my passport – this one read “Londres” and featured a picture of a train. It, along with the postcards and brochures I collected, will be a reminder of one of my favorite weekends from my semester abroad. London was wonderful. I visited Big Ben, Westminster Abbey, the London Tower, the War Cabinet Bunker where Churchill directed London’s WWII efforts, St. Paul’s Cathedral, the Covent Garden Market and more. London felt good. It felt happy and safe and clean. I am a fan.
Highlights: I got to hear a performance of the Westminster Abbey Choir. I was entering the Abbey, lamenting the fact that I would not be around for the Choir’s Advent concert in two days, when I happened upon the fully assembled Choir about to start a rehearsal. The choir is composed of around 12 men and 26 boys. The boys are all the students of the Westminster Abbey Choir School, which is a boarding school located adjacent to the abbey. I hadn’t heard a live performance of a boy’s choir before and I can’t think of a better choir to hear first. It was pretty cool.
I saw Anne Boleyn’s burial spot, underneath the floor of the Chapel of the London Tower. I saw a castle that played home to Henry VIII. I saw a division of the cavalry ride through the street. I walked through a king’s old hunting grounds. I read a real newspaper! In English! Being the pretty huge nerd that I am, that was definitely one of my favorite things about the weekend. That and all of the Starbucks. They were everywhere! Normally I am not a fan of Starbucks and prefer to frequent locally owned coffeeshops, but in Europe Starbucks is a welcome sight because I know it means the only to-go coffee for miles. France does not believe in putting coffee in a paper cup. I think they call that sacrilege. A cup of coffee to get me going on the way to class? I call that heaven.
I woke this morning to a flurry of snow. More accurately, I woke to find a few lint-like objects floating around in the sky, but it was snow enough for me. My family has a strict rule about Christmas: It is not to be acknowledged, anticipated or decorated for until after Thanksgiving. This rule has no applicability in Europe, of course, because they do not celebrate Thanksgiving. As a result, I have been confronting Christmas for a number of weeks now. My local Metro station has been decorated with lights and tinsel, the street on which it is located has been spanned by giant snowflakes and stars, every gift shop I visited in London was playing Christmas music and my local Monoprix (like Target) long ago opened its display of decorations, chocolates and calendars to celebrate the season. It is earlier than I would normally approve of, but it is comforting. Though I sometimes feel uncomfortably far from home, these things remind me that I am not away from home – just in a different home. I have a bed, a school, a family of friends and a grocery store here. Like it or not, this is my Fall 2008 home. I have been struggling with feelings of homesickness and exasperation, but the snow today reminded me that my life here is what I make it. I may not have Target or McKendree or US Cellular, but I have snow and friends and a bed. What more could I ask for?
I really do love snow. How did I celebrate its brief appearance? I drank a Bud.
Highlights: I got to hear a performance of the Westminster Abbey Choir. I was entering the Abbey, lamenting the fact that I would not be around for the Choir’s Advent concert in two days, when I happened upon the fully assembled Choir about to start a rehearsal. The choir is composed of around 12 men and 26 boys. The boys are all the students of the Westminster Abbey Choir School, which is a boarding school located adjacent to the abbey. I hadn’t heard a live performance of a boy’s choir before and I can’t think of a better choir to hear first. It was pretty cool.
I saw Anne Boleyn’s burial spot, underneath the floor of the Chapel of the London Tower. I saw a castle that played home to Henry VIII. I saw a division of the cavalry ride through the street. I walked through a king’s old hunting grounds. I read a real newspaper! In English! Being the pretty huge nerd that I am, that was definitely one of my favorite things about the weekend. That and all of the Starbucks. They were everywhere! Normally I am not a fan of Starbucks and prefer to frequent locally owned coffeeshops, but in Europe Starbucks is a welcome sight because I know it means the only to-go coffee for miles. France does not believe in putting coffee in a paper cup. I think they call that sacrilege. A cup of coffee to get me going on the way to class? I call that heaven.
I woke this morning to a flurry of snow. More accurately, I woke to find a few lint-like objects floating around in the sky, but it was snow enough for me. My family has a strict rule about Christmas: It is not to be acknowledged, anticipated or decorated for until after Thanksgiving. This rule has no applicability in Europe, of course, because they do not celebrate Thanksgiving. As a result, I have been confronting Christmas for a number of weeks now. My local Metro station has been decorated with lights and tinsel, the street on which it is located has been spanned by giant snowflakes and stars, every gift shop I visited in London was playing Christmas music and my local Monoprix (like Target) long ago opened its display of decorations, chocolates and calendars to celebrate the season. It is earlier than I would normally approve of, but it is comforting. Though I sometimes feel uncomfortably far from home, these things remind me that I am not away from home – just in a different home. I have a bed, a school, a family of friends and a grocery store here. Like it or not, this is my Fall 2008 home. I have been struggling with feelings of homesickness and exasperation, but the snow today reminded me that my life here is what I make it. I may not have Target or McKendree or US Cellular, but I have snow and friends and a bed. What more could I ask for?
I really do love snow. How did I celebrate its brief appearance? I drank a Bud.
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