Howdy!
I guess the major news of today is that I AM HOME! I got back yesterday and have taken advantage of the last 24 hours to hug my family, eat crab enchiladas (thanks El Tiempo), observe all the new construction around town, caresser the pets (Flower, our dog, and Apple and Rossini, the cats), and begin the tedious process of unpacking and reorganizing. I'm a little discouraged from doing too much organizing, though, since I'll be moving again in two short months. Next week I'll make a trip to Austin to see all my lovelies, check out the house Colleen and I are renting next year, and deal with all that boring/official UT stuff.
Being back is WEIRD to say the least, and it seems like I can already feel the French (and Italian) slipping out of my brain. Nooo(n)! I've started teaching Flower French; I mean, she is half-poodle...she's a good listener but, as predicted, is having a little trouble getting rid of that anglophone "r". We'll get there.
As Thao predicted after the last post, I didn't have time to update during my last three weeks in Paris - too busy with finals, one last paper, friends visiting, and one last voyage - to Brussels and Amsterdam. After we got back from Amsterdam I had a short two days to pack everything up and say my goodbyes. Colleen was my lovely dining companion at Chartier and Le Refuge des Fondus, two restaurants I had been meaning to check out for quite a while. Delish! On Wednesday I had one last dinner with the family - bittersweet! I gave them the gifts that my parents had intended to give them - a southwestern-style bracelet for Laurence, Texas wine for Maurice, and a hand-crafted bobble-head armadillo for Camille (cooler than it sounds, actually - they got quite a kick out of it).
In the midst of all that activity, I found time to enjoy my last moments in the city, checking out a few places I'd never been before as well as making last visits to my favorite spots. Paris treated me well (must have heard my complaining in the last post) - a week before I left I enjoyed an unforgettable evening at the Café de l'Industrie near Bastille, where I had organized a little goodbye party. It was well attended and I think everyone had a great time. I am so grateful to have had so many friends come out to bid me au revoir!
To see photos of that evening as well as others taken in the last couple weeks on that continent, click here.
You can also see homecoming photos here.
I guess this au revoir for us, too. Needless to say, the last nine and half months have been an incredible journey for me that I will continue to reflect on in the coming days/weeks/months(/years?). But for now, I'll keep it short and sweet. A big MERCI to everyone who's been reading for your interest and support. And a big merci to Paris, too.
A bientôt,
Mademoiselle Alina :)
Friday, June 18, 2010
Monday, May 24, 2010
London and a row with Paris.
Oops! I let 3 weeks slip by this time, but no one seems to have noticed. Either my devoted followers were just as busy as me (with finals, etc, you lucky Americans who are already done with the semester!)...or...y'all aren't so devoted after all!
Well. When I look over my planner from the last three weeks, they look quite hectic but not particularly interesting: took a (rather late) midterm, got some decent grades back from that and others, taught a bunch of English, and continued the bittersweet process of shutting down my life here (canceling phone contracts, etc).
The hectic monotony ended on Friday the 14th when one little miss Nicole Davis came through the now-familiar arrival doors at dear old Charles de Gaulle. Nicole and I have been best friends for going-on 7 years now and I'm so happy that she was able to come stay with me! We did lots of tourist stuff Friday, Saturday, and Sunday before I sent her off with my extra cell-phone, a copy of the amazing Paris Pratique, and lots of addresses, museum hours, cafe recommendations, etc. She got to meet lots of my friends here at various dinners and outings, too :)
Thursday around 7PM we were London bound via the Eurostar that goes through a tunnel under the English channel. It was a smooth ride despite some painful ear-popping as we alternately de- and ascended. On the other side we saw a familiar face that you know, too; temporary-Londoner Sara, who's just finishing up her study abroad program there. She helped us get to our hostel which was near her own residence and we cooked dinner in the small kitchen of her building while planning out our 3-day stay.
Let's play a game:
What everyone says about London: It's awesome.
Verdict: True. Ooh, hate to identify myself with the masses (sarcasm), but they were right about this one (not sarcasm). I guess I should have learned from not believing the hype about Austin (then adoring it) that sometimes there's a reason people rave about certain cities. I definitely want to live here for some extended period of time. It helps that the weather was gorgeous.
What everyone says about London: The Tube is hard to navigate.
Verdict: Liars! As long as you know the difference between East and West (and even if you don't, the stops are listed at the platform), I don't see how the London underground could be difficult to use. Bonus points for the "intelligent technology" in the Oyster Cards - definitely the most hassle-free experience I've had with public transport in a foreign city (and probably less hassle than visitors to Paris experience) and the doors which are decidedly less violent than Paris'. A+ for cleanliness as well. There was lots of construction and closures going on because of preparations for the 2012 Olympic Games, but thanks to Sara and frequent announcements in the stations, we encountered no problems getting where we wanted to go.
What everyone says about London: It's a cultural melting pot.
Verdict: True! Definitely more than any other city I've been to. So delightful to hear all those languages, hear all that music, see all those different foods (as far as the tasting, we tried to stick to English fare). I don't think itwould will be difficult to keep up with my French and Italian if when I live there. There was also just a good, communal vibe that you don't get in Paris despite the presence of so many different nationalities. Let's face it, you can be born in France and still not be considered "French" by the government. On the other hand, it seems like anyone can be a Londoner (high alcohol tolerance recommended).
As you can see, I really enjoyed this trip. I had also heard that London is just too big to really see in a short time, but thanks to guide books (yes, plural) and smart planning, we saw almost everything on our (ambitious) wish-list with plenty of time to actually enjoy what we were seeing. Overall I was pleasantly surprised with how well London lived up to its hype (reputation for bad weather thankfully excluded!).
Another destination that lived up to its hype? The Tate Modern. I read about this museum years ago and the info on this architecturally-interesting structure (built in an old electrical plant) has been somewhere between the back and front of my mind ever since. When Nicole and I decided to pare down our (overly ambitious) museum list, it was such a relief when she agreed that the Tate Modern should be at the top of it. As it turns out, this is the only museum we made it to, and I only saw a small part - but I'll be back (even once I've seen all the art, since I also adored the coffee shop located on the 4th floor with a beautiful view over the river). I started with an exhibit on the Surrealism movement (and tangents) - love me some Ernst:
André Masson (operating on the concept of chance which became so important to the surrealists, he would throw a mixture of sand/glass/? onto the canvas and then bring a painting out of the random shapes which resulted):
https://www.tate.org.uk/collection/T/T06/T06822_8.jpg
De Chirico:
Mona Hatoum:
I patted myself on the back when I walked into a room and immediately identified the two artists present: Picasso and Bacon (who I recently learned about at the Dublin City Gallery). Okay, not exactly the "best kept secrets" of the art world, but still, I'm glad I've been able to start connecting some dots based on the pieces I've seen and even more excited that I might actually be developing some artistic preferences based on something other than the pretty factor.
In another exhibit about Cubism, Futurism, and Vorticism (a style I'd never heard of before), I enjoyed this piece by Ed Ruscha, an artist working out of LA:
We managed to hit up all the major parks: Kensington Gardens, Hyde Park, Regent Park, and Saint James' Park, as well as two major markets (Portobello Road and Camden). We wandered around Nottinghill and Sloan Square/Chelsea as well as the endlessly entertaining Covent Garden area and the perfectly-titled Piccadilly Circus (sort of like Times Square); we checked out the high-end fashions on Oxford Street, saw the changing of the guard at Buckingham Palace (well, close enough - it was hard to see around/over the other 4 million people there), watched Big Bend chime, took pictures of Parliament from a bridge over the Thames, listened to a beautiful evensong at Westminster, and walked across Millennium bridge towards a beautifully-lit Saint Paul's at night. We also made sure to fit in all the major English culinary traditions (at least, the ones I could think of): tea time, fish n chips, bangers and mash, pies, and...beer. Yum. Except for all the cabbage, cooked carrots, and peas. Not a fan!!
After such a thrilling weekend, it was slightly difficult to come "home" to Paris, the city that constantly plays with my emotions. On the one hand I believe I have accomplished my goal of actually carving out a life here rather than having a series of random study-abroad experiences with no real rhythm, uniting thread, or deeper understanding of the culture I'm living in. The monotony I described above? That's actually a daily/weekly routine which I strove to create. I don't think it would have been possible without the "constant" in my life here which is the family I live with.
While my blog last semester often detailed my struggles in a new place, this semester it has been concentrated on the many trips I have been fortunate enough to make. Blogging about your weekly routine is likely to induce boredom and possibly sleep, for me and above all for you, and I have also been hesitant to make any over-arching comments on French or Parisian society and culture despite the constant, and often critical, analysis going through my head. Obviously real synthesis will take months and maybe even years to form (so look out for my blogs in 2020!), but I feel comfortable publicly admitting that I am officially ready to go home. I came here with an open mind despite all the warnings and stereotypes. Unfortunately I cannot say the same for several French people I have encountered (remember that post about the dinner I spent sitting next to someone who thought it was funny to refer to me as "Bush's daughter?"). This is not to say that I haven't had MANY, MANY amazing and gratifying experiences and met MANY awesome people, because I have (and hope to continue to do so). But I'm sick of being talked about by the table next to me at dinner whose occupants are so convinced I can't understand what they're saying. J'en ai marre de French people who assume that they know everything about me based on the country/state of my birth, and I'm tired of walking around with the general knowledge that I could at any moment have an extremely unpleasant and quite possibly insulting encounter with a snobbish/impatient/grumpy/rude Parisian. I think a major part of this is my appearance which, if not decidedly "American", is pretty definitely NOT French, and which leads to unfounded, split-second, unflattering judgments. Another major part of it is the fact that there seems to be an unwritten rule in France that if you hold any kind of position in which you are supposed to welcome and/or help people, you must at all times do the exact opposite, or at least perform your job with the maximum amount of disdain you can muster. My experience after dropping Nicole off at the airport today only served to solidify this impression - I helped more people get to Paris than the woman at the information desk. France, next time this position is open, try to hire someone who actually likes people. A minimum level of patience and basic knowledge of English (not for me but for the hundreds/thousands of people who go through there everyday and have NOT studied French) would be a plus as well. You would think the nice weather would put people in a better mood, but because good weather brings tourists, it seems to have the opposite effect. Not that people were particularly friendly during winter.
As I somewhat prematurely begin to reflect on the year, there is no doubt in my mind that I made the right decision to spend it here. Though I originally wanted to study in a smaller French city (ahem, in the South), that wasn't an option through UT exchange programs, and in any case I believe knowledge of the cultural and political capital of the country is essential to any understanding of French society (and will serve me well when I return to live in France at some point). There's no doubt that I've grown as a person and, above all, that I've improved my language skills in both French and Italian. But the size and pace of the city has definitely inhibited my attempts at assembling some kind of French friend group (also affected by inherently different social behaviors) and NOT living under constant judgment and not-so-rare insults from neurotic and self-entitled Parisians would have been nice. Lately it seems like my experiences here have been alternating ones of adoration for the city and horror/disgust at the way the people in it behave. You know something's wrong when you feel a rush of gratitude and a smile spreading across your face just because a social interaction was moderately pleasant. Comparing opinions with people - sometimes French people - has confirmed that I am not the only one who thinks this way. Finally, how much does it suck to want to show off "your city" to friends only to be treated as if neither of you should be here in the first place?
I've attained a comfort level here in Paris that I didn't think would be possible, for which I am very proud of myself, but being in London reminded me of how comfortable I could be, not only if French were my first language, but more generally if Parisians weren't so frequently unpleasant. I imagine part of my cynicism comes from jealousy - I'm beginning to think that it really is impossible to become Parisian. I can't help but hold something against a city which refuses to let me blend into its population. But how can I blend into a society which is partially, if tacitly, founded on a disdain for foreigners? Sometimes I feel like Paris is in a fight with itself. It's definitely one of the top tourist destinations in the world, yet there is a very strong undercurrent of tourist-hatred (which frequently surfaces). So, tons of restaurants, cafes, bars, bookstores, you-name-its have sprung up which cater pretty much exclusively to this ever-present and generally, though not always, transient population. (Why? Because it's just too hard/not permissible to assimilate.) Recognizing the difference between these two types of establishments, I've been exhausted by the endless search for "authentic" experiences and the eternal struggle to avoid tourist traps. However, I think the only real way to avoid them is...to be born French. Or Parisian? Then no matter what you do, you - by definition - cannot be a tourist. Hmm. Well, too late for that.
One last thing: a while ago one of my professors, who happens to be Russian by birth, told us that a colleague of hers recently congratulated her on her lack of foreign accent when speaking French. Katia has been living in Paris for over 20 years. She teaches French. Just think about that.
I apologize right now to anyone who is offended by this post. It was a sloppy attempt at expressing the frustrations I've been dealing with since day 1; I've already edited several times since first posting it and I hope that one day I will find a way to concisely explain exactly what displeases me. For now, feel free to make comments/suggestions/criticisms...
Though I stated above I am "ready to go home", a lot of that is probably due to the fact that I am indeed going home soon, and have therefore commenced mental and emotional preparations. I still want to make the most of the 23 days I have left in Europe. As I head into the home stretch, I'm sending out a plea to Paris: shove that ugly side in a placard in the bowels of the Louvre. Let me leave this place with only the best of my memories in mind. I'm not French. But that's not my fault.
I'll let you know how it goes.
--
Alina
PS. Photos:
Paris album (new photos start at the bottom of page 9 - click to the end to see the temporary "farm" they installed on the Champs-Elysees for an agriculture expo)
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2029731&id=1529880222&l=5e91c8d49c
LONDON CALLING:
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2041392&id=1529880222&l=e49be48b7e
Well. When I look over my planner from the last three weeks, they look quite hectic but not particularly interesting: took a (rather late) midterm, got some decent grades back from that and others, taught a bunch of English, and continued the bittersweet process of shutting down my life here (canceling phone contracts, etc).
The hectic monotony ended on Friday the 14th when one little miss Nicole Davis came through the now-familiar arrival doors at dear old Charles de Gaulle. Nicole and I have been best friends for going-on 7 years now and I'm so happy that she was able to come stay with me! We did lots of tourist stuff Friday, Saturday, and Sunday before I sent her off with my extra cell-phone, a copy of the amazing Paris Pratique, and lots of addresses, museum hours, cafe recommendations, etc. She got to meet lots of my friends here at various dinners and outings, too :)
Thursday around 7PM we were London bound via the Eurostar that goes through a tunnel under the English channel. It was a smooth ride despite some painful ear-popping as we alternately de- and ascended. On the other side we saw a familiar face that you know, too; temporary-Londoner Sara, who's just finishing up her study abroad program there. She helped us get to our hostel which was near her own residence and we cooked dinner in the small kitchen of her building while planning out our 3-day stay.
Let's play a game:
What everyone says about London: It's awesome.
Verdict: True. Ooh, hate to identify myself with the masses (sarcasm), but they were right about this one (not sarcasm). I guess I should have learned from not believing the hype about Austin (then adoring it) that sometimes there's a reason people rave about certain cities. I definitely want to live here for some extended period of time. It helps that the weather was gorgeous.
What everyone says about London: The Tube is hard to navigate.
Verdict: Liars! As long as you know the difference between East and West (and even if you don't, the stops are listed at the platform), I don't see how the London underground could be difficult to use. Bonus points for the "intelligent technology" in the Oyster Cards - definitely the most hassle-free experience I've had with public transport in a foreign city (and probably less hassle than visitors to Paris experience) and the doors which are decidedly less violent than Paris'. A+ for cleanliness as well. There was lots of construction and closures going on because of preparations for the 2012 Olympic Games, but thanks to Sara and frequent announcements in the stations, we encountered no problems getting where we wanted to go.
What everyone says about London: It's a cultural melting pot.
Verdict: True! Definitely more than any other city I've been to. So delightful to hear all those languages, hear all that music, see all those different foods (as far as the tasting, we tried to stick to English fare). I don't think it
As you can see, I really enjoyed this trip. I had also heard that London is just too big to really see in a short time, but thanks to guide books (yes, plural) and smart planning, we saw almost everything on our (ambitious) wish-list with plenty of time to actually enjoy what we were seeing. Overall I was pleasantly surprised with how well London lived up to its hype (reputation for bad weather thankfully excluded!).
Another destination that lived up to its hype? The Tate Modern. I read about this museum years ago and the info on this architecturally-interesting structure (built in an old electrical plant) has been somewhere between the back and front of my mind ever since. When Nicole and I decided to pare down our (overly ambitious) museum list, it was such a relief when she agreed that the Tate Modern should be at the top of it. As it turns out, this is the only museum we made it to, and I only saw a small part - but I'll be back (even once I've seen all the art, since I also adored the coffee shop located on the 4th floor with a beautiful view over the river). I started with an exhibit on the Surrealism movement (and tangents) - love me some Ernst:
The Entire City
André Masson (operating on the concept of chance which became so important to the surrealists, he would throw a mixture of sand/glass/? onto the canvas and then bring a painting out of the random shapes which resulted):
https://www.tate.org.uk/collection/T/T06/T06822_8.jpg
De Chirico:
The Uncertainty of the Poet
Mona Hatoum:
Crib
I patted myself on the back when I walked into a room and immediately identified the two artists present: Picasso and Bacon (who I recently learned about at the Dublin City Gallery). Okay, not exactly the "best kept secrets" of the art world, but still, I'm glad I've been able to start connecting some dots based on the pieces I've seen and even more excited that I might actually be developing some artistic preferences based on something other than the pretty factor.
In another exhibit about Cubism, Futurism, and Vorticism (a style I'd never heard of before), I enjoyed this piece by Ed Ruscha, an artist working out of LA:
Dance?
It's made of stripes of "common household substances", like coffee grounds, mustard, and egg whites.We managed to hit up all the major parks: Kensington Gardens, Hyde Park, Regent Park, and Saint James' Park, as well as two major markets (Portobello Road and Camden). We wandered around Nottinghill and Sloan Square/Chelsea as well as the endlessly entertaining Covent Garden area and the perfectly-titled Piccadilly Circus (sort of like Times Square); we checked out the high-end fashions on Oxford Street, saw the changing of the guard at Buckingham Palace (well, close enough - it was hard to see around/over the other 4 million people there), watched Big Bend chime, took pictures of Parliament from a bridge over the Thames, listened to a beautiful evensong at Westminster, and walked across Millennium bridge towards a beautifully-lit Saint Paul's at night. We also made sure to fit in all the major English culinary traditions (at least, the ones I could think of): tea time, fish n chips, bangers and mash, pies, and...beer. Yum. Except for all the cabbage, cooked carrots, and peas. Not a fan!!
After such a thrilling weekend, it was slightly difficult to come "home" to Paris, the city that constantly plays with my emotions. On the one hand I believe I have accomplished my goal of actually carving out a life here rather than having a series of random study-abroad experiences with no real rhythm, uniting thread, or deeper understanding of the culture I'm living in. The monotony I described above? That's actually a daily/weekly routine which I strove to create. I don't think it would have been possible without the "constant" in my life here which is the family I live with.
While my blog last semester often detailed my struggles in a new place, this semester it has been concentrated on the many trips I have been fortunate enough to make. Blogging about your weekly routine is likely to induce boredom and possibly sleep, for me and above all for you, and I have also been hesitant to make any over-arching comments on French or Parisian society and culture despite the constant, and often critical, analysis going through my head. Obviously real synthesis will take months and maybe even years to form (so look out for my blogs in 2020!), but I feel comfortable publicly admitting that I am officially ready to go home. I came here with an open mind despite all the warnings and stereotypes. Unfortunately I cannot say the same for several French people I have encountered (remember that post about the dinner I spent sitting next to someone who thought it was funny to refer to me as "Bush's daughter?"). This is not to say that I haven't had MANY, MANY amazing and gratifying experiences and met MANY awesome people, because I have (and hope to continue to do so). But I'm sick of being talked about by the table next to me at dinner whose occupants are so convinced I can't understand what they're saying. J'en ai marre de French people who assume that they know everything about me based on the country/state of my birth, and I'm tired of walking around with the general knowledge that I could at any moment have an extremely unpleasant and quite possibly insulting encounter with a snobbish/impatient/grumpy/rude Parisian. I think a major part of this is my appearance which, if not decidedly "American", is pretty definitely NOT French, and which leads to unfounded, split-second, unflattering judgments. Another major part of it is the fact that there seems to be an unwritten rule in France that if you hold any kind of position in which you are supposed to welcome and/or help people, you must at all times do the exact opposite, or at least perform your job with the maximum amount of disdain you can muster. My experience after dropping Nicole off at the airport today only served to solidify this impression - I helped more people get to Paris than the woman at the information desk. France, next time this position is open, try to hire someone who actually likes people. A minimum level of patience and basic knowledge of English (not for me but for the hundreds/thousands of people who go through there everyday and have NOT studied French) would be a plus as well. You would think the nice weather would put people in a better mood, but because good weather brings tourists, it seems to have the opposite effect. Not that people were particularly friendly during winter.
As I somewhat prematurely begin to reflect on the year, there is no doubt in my mind that I made the right decision to spend it here. Though I originally wanted to study in a smaller French city (ahem, in the South), that wasn't an option through UT exchange programs, and in any case I believe knowledge of the cultural and political capital of the country is essential to any understanding of French society (and will serve me well when I return to live in France at some point). There's no doubt that I've grown as a person and, above all, that I've improved my language skills in both French and Italian. But the size and pace of the city has definitely inhibited my attempts at assembling some kind of French friend group (also affected by inherently different social behaviors) and NOT living under constant judgment and not-so-rare insults from neurotic and self-entitled Parisians would have been nice. Lately it seems like my experiences here have been alternating ones of adoration for the city and horror/disgust at the way the people in it behave. You know something's wrong when you feel a rush of gratitude and a smile spreading across your face just because a social interaction was moderately pleasant. Comparing opinions with people - sometimes French people - has confirmed that I am not the only one who thinks this way. Finally, how much does it suck to want to show off "your city" to friends only to be treated as if neither of you should be here in the first place?
I've attained a comfort level here in Paris that I didn't think would be possible, for which I am very proud of myself, but being in London reminded me of how comfortable I could be, not only if French were my first language, but more generally if Parisians weren't so frequently unpleasant. I imagine part of my cynicism comes from jealousy - I'm beginning to think that it really is impossible to become Parisian. I can't help but hold something against a city which refuses to let me blend into its population. But how can I blend into a society which is partially, if tacitly, founded on a disdain for foreigners? Sometimes I feel like Paris is in a fight with itself. It's definitely one of the top tourist destinations in the world, yet there is a very strong undercurrent of tourist-hatred (which frequently surfaces). So, tons of restaurants, cafes, bars, bookstores, you-name-its have sprung up which cater pretty much exclusively to this ever-present and generally, though not always, transient population. (Why? Because it's just too hard/not permissible to assimilate.) Recognizing the difference between these two types of establishments, I've been exhausted by the endless search for "authentic" experiences and the eternal struggle to avoid tourist traps. However, I think the only real way to avoid them is...to be born French. Or Parisian? Then no matter what you do, you - by definition - cannot be a tourist. Hmm. Well, too late for that.
One last thing: a while ago one of my professors, who happens to be Russian by birth, told us that a colleague of hers recently congratulated her on her lack of foreign accent when speaking French. Katia has been living in Paris for over 20 years. She teaches French. Just think about that.
I apologize right now to anyone who is offended by this post. It was a sloppy attempt at expressing the frustrations I've been dealing with since day 1; I've already edited several times since first posting it and I hope that one day I will find a way to concisely explain exactly what displeases me. For now, feel free to make comments/suggestions/criticisms...
Though I stated above I am "ready to go home", a lot of that is probably due to the fact that I am indeed going home soon, and have therefore commenced mental and emotional preparations. I still want to make the most of the 23 days I have left in Europe. As I head into the home stretch, I'm sending out a plea to Paris: shove that ugly side in a placard in the bowels of the Louvre. Let me leave this place with only the best of my memories in mind. I'm not French. But that's not my fault.
I'll let you know how it goes.
--
Alina
PS. Photos:
Paris album (new photos start at the bottom of page 9 - click to the end to see the temporary "farm" they installed on the Champs-Elysees for an agriculture expo)
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2029731&id=1529880222&l=5e91c8d49c
LONDON CALLING:
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2041392&id=1529880222&l=e49be48b7e
Monday, May 3, 2010
Montpellier, Italy, Sara.
Whew. Time is flying. This Thursday marks the t-6 weeks mark to my arrival back in the States. Ahhhhh!!!
Time went particularly fast these past two weeks because I was traveling. Most French students (from 3-year olds to college students) were on a two week "Easter" (really Spring) break these last two weeks. Perhaps you remember my last post in which I cursed a volcano in Iceland for preventing my parents from visiting me the first week of that vacation. A few days ago my friend Vicky, whose parents' trip also was cancelled, forwarded me this article claiming the ash cloud was nowhere near thick enough to merit all the airport closures, and stating that the ONE plane in the UK which is supposed to test conditions at times like these was being repainted and therefore couldn't be sent up for 5 days (which happens to be the duration of the ban...).
My parents took a little tour of the Texas hill country and went to Dallas (they live in Houston). They actually met some Europeans who were stranded in Texas (sounds like a movie plot); my dad told them that he and my mom had wanted to go to Paris, but Dallas was the second choice.
On Wednesday the 21st I hopped on a TGV (fast train) to Montpellier, a cute university-ish city in the south of France. I was accompanied by my Italian friend Simona, probably the easiest person to travel with EVER (because she's so laid-back).
She was nice enough to let me practice some Italian, especially on the crowded train (perhaps due in part to the air travel disaster, but mainly due to a train-company strike...of course...). I guess she'd rather put up with me butchering her language than put up with the strange looks of French people listening to us butcher theirs ;)
The first day in Montpellier was HOT (finally!) but we spent a lot of time walking around, checking out the city's monuments, the famous school of Medicine, and the beautiful Jardin des Plantes (Plant Garden? It just doesn't sound the same), of which there is also one in Paris. There are actually a lot of the "same things" in the two cities - an Arc de Triomphe, similar street names, but Montpellier had that laid-back, Austin-y vibe that's almost impossible to find in Paris. I read in the guidebook on the way there that one French person in three surveyed said he would like to live in Montpellier. It's population has doubled in the last 40 years (currently around 250,000 inhabitants, over 60 percent of which were not born in the region, and over 40 percent of which are less than 30 years old). It's the capital of its region (Languedoc-Roussillon) and, like Austin, is also a technology hub (IBM and Dell have offices here).
One of the in Montpellier "Tricks of the Eye"
My trip to Montpellier also marked my first experience with Couchsurfing. For those of you who haven't heard about it, couchsurfing is a project (in the form a website with many registered users, like facebook) started in the States; the name implies the basic idea: sleep on a friendly local's couch (or extra bed, or air mattress...) when visiting a city. Parents and the like, don't freak out just yet - okay, okay, this could be really dangerous, but the people at www.couchsurfing.org are obviously aware of this and have created many security measures, such as "verified members" whose identity and location has been checked, ways to "vouch for" people, and tons of references. If you're still not convinced that this might possibly sometimes maybe be an awesome thing to do...you've got a right to your opinion. But I was incredibly happy with the way things turned out. Simona and I first stayed with Jeff, a couchsurfing "ambassador" in the city (this means he's seriously involved in the project) - he met us in the center of town on his lunch break, and walked us back to his apartment, where he cooked a delicious lunch and provided us with all the information we would need to explore the city and discover some of the "local secrets". After lots of tourist activity, we returned to Jeff's that evening to make ratatouille!
Mmmm. Later we went to a bar to meet up with other couchsurfing fanatics for a monthly language meet-up they host (sort of like the French and Italian meet-ups in Houston; here there was lots of Italian, Spanish, and English being practiced). The second night we stayed in the apartment of several students who made sure to feed us well and take us out to some of their favorite places. On of them, Rostan, even accompanied Simona and me to his native town of Sete (about 20 minutes away by train) the next day, where we saw the beaches, tasted local cuisine (um, seafood!), and met his family! Rostan was obliged to stop about every 3 minutes as we walked around town to kiss the cheeks of old high school buddies and other friends. Thanks to couchsurfing, I definitely feel like Simona and I got the local perspective (of Montpellier and Sete!).
Check out my Montpellier photos here.
I had a 12-hour "layover" in Paris Friday night before heading to Italy Saturday morning. On the agenda: 2.5 days in Milan, 2 days in Parma, and 1.5 days in Bologna. Wow. This trip to Italy was definitely one of the best weeks of this entire year. In Milan I was oh-so-kindly hosted by my friend Stefania,
(she'll love me for posting this picture)
who is studying there this semester. But I of course took advantage of the visit to see some of the beautiful religious and cultural sites, including the Duomo,
(she'll be as cultured as this little guy!! spotted walking into the Duomo.)
Finally, Bologna.
views/torre Asinelli
Cristian walked me around the center of town before we headed to a puppet-making workshop that was part of this association he's in. I obviously didn't have the supplies necessary, nor am I a paying-member of the group, but when they saw that I was merely helping Cristian with his, some of the girls in charge went searching for make-shift puppet material. Ladies and Gentlemen, allow me to present Olivia (christened by one of Cristian's friends):
Afterwards we grabbed dinner with several members of the group, where we encountered MORE of Cristian's friends, who then accompanied us on a night-tour of the city (for my sake) and then to a couple bars. It was a hilarious, Italian-filled (and therefore sometimes hilariously confusing) night - I can't believe how welcoming everyone I met was.
The next day I got up early-ish to do some touristy stuff before meeting Cristian and yet another friend for lunch. My last act in Bologna? Gelato of course! 
That brought my total up to 6. Then we scooted off to the airport and in no time I was back in Parigi...
flying over the Alps to get home
Just in time for Sara
(another American high school friend who's studying in London) to arrive Friday morning! So, more tourist activities, including the Tour Montparnasse, which I'd been wanting to check out. It now goes on my top three things to do with visitors in Paris, alongside the Sacre Coeur/Montmartre and the Pompidou (close fourth would be the Luxembourg Gardens...).
And go to page 8 of this album to see the Luxembourg Gardens in bloom and some views from the only "skyscraper" in zone-one Paris.
Next up? Lots of studying and working, maybe a concert or two, and a final baseball game (to see my little Camille and his cousin Bertrand play with the elite team)...and Nicole, who gets in from Houston a week from Thursday. Ay yay yay! I better get moving!!
xoxo
Alina :)
Monday, April 19, 2010
cold-hearted Iceland (and warm weather at last).
Hello all,
It's been a difficult couple of days - my parents were supposed to come visit me for a week starting Saturday the 17th. I know Texas is a long way from Europe, and from Iceland, but maybe you've heard some kind of rumor involving a volcano, clouds of ash, and millions of airline passengers stranded around the world. (If you've been living at Enchanted Rock for the past few days, read here: http://www.nytimes.com/2010/04/20/world/europe/20ash.html?ref=world .)
Sadly, it's all true. When my parents booked their flight to Paris during my "Easter" break (the last two weeks of April, meaning now), I was thinking "oh good, it shouldn't be too cold!". I didn't think about the cloud of volcanic ash that has drifted over much of the European continent since Thursday, affecting airports in at least 33 countries, stranding 8 million passengers worldwide, and costing the aviation industry at least a billion dollars (if not closer to 2 billion). After five solid days of paralyzed traffic, many tied to the industry are clamoring for government "bail-outs" and considering emergency lay-offs. The volcanic event is obviously a force majeur, but that hasn't prevented harsh criticism of European governmental infrastructure which was slow to respond to the crisis and more or less neglected to run tests during its first 4 days. Instead, airlines such as Air France and Lufthansa, driven to desperation, ran test flights which resulted in no perceptible damage to aircraft, leading them to beg authorities to reconsider. That article I posted above is the latest in a line of many I've read - obviously this event has had a quite personal impact on my life, but in any case it's been very interesting to see it all play out. People are calling it the "worst weekend in travel industry history".
It's funny how quickly you get used to things. At the beginning of last week I was practically bouncing around the apartment in anticipation of my parents' visit. But on Thursday in class a mauvais sentiment came over me. I'm not going to say I'm psychic or anything...maybe I just had too much coffee? Anyway I went about my day, which included picking up the keys to the apartment my parents were renting and scheduling some rendez-vous to introduce them to various figures in my Parisian life. But when I got home there it was - a message from my mom talking about...volcanic ash clouds? What?
Parisian airports closed at 11PM last Thursday (that's 4PM your time, Texans) and have yet to reopen. My parents attempted to re-book and fly into Barcelona, but when I had trouble acquiring train tickets between there and Paris and when I woke up Saturday to news reports that the clouds were heading South, I phoned them - at 2AM their time - to have a little chat about the rationality of the whole trip. Canceling the whole trip was a hard decision to make, but it was definitely the right one. Throwing yourself willingly into the chaos that IS European travel at this moment is not wise and might even be considered selfish (think of all the people stranded *away* from home!). I just can't believe that what would have been my parents' first trip to Europe fell during the worst 5 days of travel history.
--
Think of something awesome you've anticipated for months. A visit from a loved one, graduation, a wedding, a concert...In the days just before the event actually happens, you think "oh my gosh, it's here! I can't believe it! It doesn't feel real!"
And then it ISN'T real!
Do you know what I mean? Well, I think a couple million people around the world do.
--
As you see from the article above, many airports should be open tomorrow morning and we can expect things to return to "normal" by Thursday...just in time for my trip to Italy on Saturday? In the meantime, partly to console myself, I'll be going to Montpellier (!) Wednesday-Friday with my Italian friend Simona. We're going by train - there's a strike, but from what I understand it shouldn't affect the train I bought tickets for. I haven't yet dared to aborder the question of the French grève, maybe for another post...or a book...
Otherwise, my life lately has been quite the opposite of cloudy. Spring has finally decided to stick around, knock on wood, and I've been taking every chance I get to be outside. Last weekend I went "row-boating" (is there a verb for this?) on the Lac Daumesnil in the Bois de Vincennes just south/east of the 20 arrondissements. A beautiful day with my friends Zina and Sandra:
The next day Zina, Sandra, and I met up with Andrea, Emilia, and Catherine for a lovely afternoon in the GORGEOUS Park Buttes-Chaumont:
It's been a difficult couple of days - my parents were supposed to come visit me for a week starting Saturday the 17th. I know Texas is a long way from Europe, and from Iceland, but maybe you've heard some kind of rumor involving a volcano, clouds of ash, and millions of airline passengers stranded around the world. (If you've been living at Enchanted Rock for the past few days, read here: http://www.nytimes.com/2010/04/20/world/europe/20ash.html?ref=world .)
Sadly, it's all true. When my parents booked their flight to Paris during my "Easter" break (the last two weeks of April, meaning now), I was thinking "oh good, it shouldn't be too cold!". I didn't think about the cloud of volcanic ash that has drifted over much of the European continent since Thursday, affecting airports in at least 33 countries, stranding 8 million passengers worldwide, and costing the aviation industry at least a billion dollars (if not closer to 2 billion). After five solid days of paralyzed traffic, many tied to the industry are clamoring for government "bail-outs" and considering emergency lay-offs. The volcanic event is obviously a force majeur, but that hasn't prevented harsh criticism of European governmental infrastructure which was slow to respond to the crisis and more or less neglected to run tests during its first 4 days. Instead, airlines such as Air France and Lufthansa, driven to desperation, ran test flights which resulted in no perceptible damage to aircraft, leading them to beg authorities to reconsider. That article I posted above is the latest in a line of many I've read - obviously this event has had a quite personal impact on my life, but in any case it's been very interesting to see it all play out. People are calling it the "worst weekend in travel industry history".
It's funny how quickly you get used to things. At the beginning of last week I was practically bouncing around the apartment in anticipation of my parents' visit. But on Thursday in class a mauvais sentiment came over me. I'm not going to say I'm psychic or anything...maybe I just had too much coffee? Anyway I went about my day, which included picking up the keys to the apartment my parents were renting and scheduling some rendez-vous to introduce them to various figures in my Parisian life. But when I got home there it was - a message from my mom talking about...volcanic ash clouds? What?
Parisian airports closed at 11PM last Thursday (that's 4PM your time, Texans) and have yet to reopen. My parents attempted to re-book and fly into Barcelona, but when I had trouble acquiring train tickets between there and Paris and when I woke up Saturday to news reports that the clouds were heading South, I phoned them - at 2AM their time - to have a little chat about the rationality of the whole trip. Canceling the whole trip was a hard decision to make, but it was definitely the right one. Throwing yourself willingly into the chaos that IS European travel at this moment is not wise and might even be considered selfish (think of all the people stranded *away* from home!). I just can't believe that what would have been my parents' first trip to Europe fell during the worst 5 days of travel history.
--
Think of something awesome you've anticipated for months. A visit from a loved one, graduation, a wedding, a concert...In the days just before the event actually happens, you think "oh my gosh, it's here! I can't believe it! It doesn't feel real!"
And then it ISN'T real!
Do you know what I mean? Well, I think a couple million people around the world do.
--
As you see from the article above, many airports should be open tomorrow morning and we can expect things to return to "normal" by Thursday...just in time for my trip to Italy on Saturday? In the meantime, partly to console myself, I'll be going to Montpellier (!) Wednesday-Friday with my Italian friend Simona. We're going by train - there's a strike, but from what I understand it shouldn't affect the train I bought tickets for. I haven't yet dared to aborder the question of the French grève, maybe for another post...or a book...
Otherwise, my life lately has been quite the opposite of cloudy. Spring has finally decided to stick around, knock on wood, and I've been taking every chance I get to be outside. Last weekend I went "row-boating" (is there a verb for this?) on the Lac Daumesnil in the Bois de Vincennes just south/east of the 20 arrondissements. A beautiful day with my friends Zina and Sandra:
The next day Zina, Sandra, and I met up with Andrea, Emilia, and Catherine for a lovely afternoon in the GORGEOUS Park Buttes-Chaumont:
I also had the *amazing* opportunity to see Il Piccolo Teatro di Milano's production of Goldoni's Trilogia della Villeggiatura (I think in English it's called "Living on Credit"), this playwright's response to Venetian culture of the late 18th century, which he deemed "excessive" and consumeristic. The play was directed by Toni Servillo, a renowned Italian director and actor, who also played the role of the "scrouge" Ferdinando. Servillo's antics were well balanced by the solid acting of Anna Della Rosa, a relative newbie in Italy's acting scene who brought a lot of emphasis to the dilemma of the play's central character, Giacinta, who finds herself caught between "true love" and societal responsibility. I saw the play with my Italian Lit. class, a revelatory experience in itself - the fact that we weren't at school led my fellow classmates to ask me questions they'd "always wanted to ask" (like why I started studying Italian, etc) and to profess their adoration for my anglophone accent (when I speak Italian, although it's *definitely* there when I speak French as well!). It's sort of aggravating that it's taken them this long to open up a bit, but that's how it is. They are the same with each other! Anyway it was a great soirée.
I managed to make this past weekend a good one despite a couple hours of wallowing in self-pity. I went to a fancy invitation-only house concert to see some live music, including this artist, who is the most adorable person you will ever see play live:
http://www.myspace.com/alexawoodward
Sunday: the best falafel in the world (or at least Paris - Lenny Kravitz, among other celebrities agrees!), Place des Vosges with about a thousand other Parisians, and the best gelato in Paris, at least according to Claire's Tahitian roommate Jenn:
That's the news from this side of the air-traffic ban. Thanks for all your support and sympathy in the last few days. It's pretty heart-breaking that my parents weren't able to come, but at least they didn't get stranded somewhere! We'll just have to take on Europe together another time :)
Keep in touch,
Alina :)
Friday, April 9, 2010
Dialogo sopra i due massimi sistemi universitari
Sometimes people ask me some variation of the question "what's your school like?".
I will henceforth direct them to this post.
**What follows are observations, not judgements. If you by chance detect irony, sarcasm, or criticism, just remember that it brings me one step closer to many French students I know who never cease to complain about their universities.**
Let me tell you about the Italian department at the University of Paris III - The Sorbonne Nouvelle.
First of all, the department is not located in the same building as most of Paris III. It is located just down the street on the other side of an apartment complex. Just a two-minute walk, though, which is more than I can say for the German department of Paris III, which is not located in Paris.
The Italian department of Paris III is located on the fifth floor of what must be one of the ugliest buildings in the city, with thick brick-sized windows cut in an irregular pattern on the top two floors. The department is accessed via a mysteriously wide stairway or an elevator (which you can reach only by a different entrance) whose control panel looks like this:
I will henceforth direct them to this post.
**What follows are observations, not judgements. If you by chance detect irony, sarcasm, or criticism, just remember that it brings me one step closer to many French students I know who never cease to complain about their universities.**
Let me tell you about the Italian department at the University of Paris III - The Sorbonne Nouvelle.
First of all, the department is not located in the same building as most of Paris III. It is located just down the street on the other side of an apartment complex. Just a two-minute walk, though, which is more than I can say for the German department of Paris III, which is not located in Paris.
The Italian department of Paris III is located on the fifth floor of what must be one of the ugliest buildings in the city, with thick brick-sized windows cut in an irregular pattern on the top two floors. The department is accessed via a mysteriously wide stairway or an elevator (which you can reach only by a different entrance) whose control panel looks like this:
Exit the elevator and you find yourself in a small room with plastic walls (what are those called?), linoleum floors, and a column in the center. The only hint that you're close is the long lists of grades taped up on the wall to your right. The place is dark (lights that turn themselves off and which I never bother to turn on) save the tiny rays of sunlight that might be streaming in through about 6 of those brick windows cut randomly into the left-hand exterior wall. Make a u-turn to the left and head down a long hallway. Again, signs with arrows urging you forward are the only indication that you're not in another dimension. Turn left and walk down three stairs and a shorter hallway before you get to an unmarked-door that is, as it turns out, the Italian Department (which is also the Romanian department, but nevermind about that).
The department is composed of approximately 8 rooms: bathroom (one sink, two stalls - one men, one women), teacher's lounge (with an annoying code-lock which you'll read about later), the director's office, the secretariat (department secretary), the Salle Polyvalente (the only classroom in the department), two spaces that I'll call "anterooms" which connect the various other ones, and the library, which is technically composed of 5 "spaces", indicated by an arrangement of shelves or a partial wall - "the library", "the reading room", the librarian's office, plus a corner divided from the rest by a free-standing screen, behind which you'll find everything necessary to watch a movie, and a trapezoid-shaped office that seems to have been built off of one of the walls and which I assume to be the vice-director's space.
Most department classes are held in Paris III's main building down the street, but my 8:00 AM Monday morning class last semester was held in the Salle Polyvalente. The room is at least three times as long as it is wide, with 2-foot tall windows lining the entire periphery of the two exterior walls. There is ragged netting strung up outside all department windows. There is one small heater in the Salle Polyvalente which has usually been left off all weekend (and Texans, no matter how cold your winter was, ours was colder). The Salle Polyvalente is connected to the rest of the department only by a small door at the back of the room which leads to the bowels of the secretariat. You're supposed to use another door across the landing to get to the other rooms, but when this second door was locked even after its appointed hour of opening on Monday mornings and our professor needed to grab a book from the library or access the photocopier found in the second anteroom, she would hammer on the door at the back of the Salle Polyvalente until the department secretary emerged, dreary-eyed and somehow always surprised to see who it was. Other than desks and a blackboard, there is a computer which I have never seen used and several file cabinets which may or may not contain something.The secretariat of the Department of Italian at the University of Paris III is open two hours in the morning and two hours in the afternoon on Mondays, Tuesdays, and Thursdays. It is closed Wednesdays and Fridays. During peak periods such as "registration" - current college students in America, whatever images this term provokes in your heads, imagine something 50 times less organized than that, and you're probably right on target...Anyway during peak periods it is sometimes possible to see the secretary who to my knowledge is always in her office whether it is one of the indicated six hours of the week when she should receive you with open arms or not. I've only met her twice, once in September when I was attempting to register for classes and she had me fill out extensive paperwork and write a letter of intent (in French of course, and on the spot) to enroll in classes (both of which, I was later informed by the director, were unnecessary), and another time when I convinced her (with some difficulty) to open the teachers' lounge so that I could put an assignment in one of the teachers' boxes. Let it be noted that was the third trip I had made to the department over the course of a week: the other two times the teachers' lounge was locked, the department was a ghost-town, and the secretary wasn't answering her door. I know she was there.
The library, definitely the heart-beat of the department, is open from Monday to Friday 9 AM to 6 PM. If you are one of the lame stragglers still there when 5:50 rolls around, you must clearly indicate - usually by glancing at the clock overhead - that you are aware of the time and by 5:54 you must be finishing the last sentence of the last paragraph and demonstrating full willingness to return your book to the shelf within the next 30 seconds, lest you suffer the wrath of the grumpy librarian (there is also a nice one, although I have inferred that Grumpy is in charge) who is definitely foreign and presumably Italian (or Romanian?). I once made the mistake of attempting to stay until 5:58 and Grumpy hasn't liked me since.
At mid-day the library is a-buzz, usually with the chatter of several students who take no notice of the sign out front which reads "Nous vous prions de respecter le SILENCE" and circle up around one of the larger tables to "study", an annoyance excused only by the fact that there really is no other place for them to meet. The only other regular noise is the high-pitched whine of the security posts at the door to the library; unfortunately the photocopier is located outside these doors, and the librarians are so habituated to the alarm by now that I'm sure stealing books would not be a problem. The photocopier is in that second anteroom, where there is also a small table surrounded by bulletin boards covered in posters for events, most of which have already passed, books which have come out sometime in the last year, course schedules which were put up the day before classes started, etc. A couple months ago I noticed a petition asking for signatures in support of a Turkish (?) student who had been too sick to renew his student visa and had been deported in the middle of the school year. On Tuesdays and Wednesdays I usually lunch at this table amidst these bulletin boards, accompanied only by a flickering light overhead.
As I did this last Wednesday I took a look around. My first thought: it's amazing how fast we adapt. My second: I'm going to appreciate being back at UT.
Are the differences somewhat artificial? Yes. Does learning still happen here? Absolutely. But...
University tuition in France: negligible
University tuition in the States: not so much.
Not having to consult your watch, your calendar, and possibly the phases of the moon to be granted a hearing with the department secretary: ...priceless (?)
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