Officially, I leave Paris in nine hours. I have had the best last night in Paris, surrounded by friends and happiness (as well as tons of chocolate); I couldn't have asked for a better farewell than this one. As impromptu as it all was, I am so happy that the evening turned out as it did. This has been an experience of a lifetime and regardless of where life takes me--even if I don't get back to this city--I will be able to look back and have no regrets.

this is my last day in Paris...i have to leave tomorrow morning. "what am I going to do without Europe?" i have a new determination in life, to make it worth living for me. i am brimming with new spirit and fervor for all things great and exciting. i want to drive forward and take life by the horns. officially, I am spitting out jargon that is born from my varied emotional state. everything that i do today will be done for the last time, until i am blessed to return to this country. i cannot process thoughts right now. i am pressed to be coherent. life is far too transient to take time out to sulk. if i continue this entry, i will soon be sulking but there is excitment awaiting me.

I must seize the day.

It is more difficult for me to blog now. Initially, I started this week with the intent of blogging every day to commemorate my last week and make up for my neglect to some extent. However, I have found that it is difficult to suddenly create a habit where one has not existed and moreover, I am hesitant to face the reality of my eminent departure. Yet, I pulled out my suitcases a few days ago and have been making advanced preparations for Saturday to ensure that I can guiltlessly enjoy my last Friday night in Paris. My room looks empty, save a few everyday things that I haven't packed away yet. The truth hurts.

In the effort to make the most of my last week in Paris, I have set out to sight see and tour as much as I can but even that is difficult. Sunday and Monday I was able to get out of my room. Sunday, I went to La Defense after searching for a gospel church service that I was unable to find. La Defense is just outside of Paris. It is a business district which is also home to a large arch and a huge mall. I walked around for a few hours before returning to my room. Overall, it was a decent day. I also walked around a lot in the area where the church service was supposed to be, which incidentally, is right around La tour Eiffel and Charles de Gaule-Etoile.

Monday, I set out to the Latin Quarter and visited a couple of beautiful churches and parks (lots of pictures), as well as La Pantheon and a great photography exhibit at Hotel de Ville. I started rather early and returned before dark even though I did a lot. I was pleased with my initiative to adventure solo and my ability to navigate. I felt accomplished.

Tuesday, however, was not so eventful. I awoke and dressed and as I was putting on my loafers, I suddenly lost my motivation completely. I didn't want to go anywhere. The view outside my window was not particularly inviting; there was no sun or blue sky visible (as the day before) and everything looked cold. Thus, Tuesday was devoted to a lounging and serious packing. I am not looking forward to the trip to the airport. I need to either reserve a shuttle or hire a cab because traveling on the RER (train) with all of my luggage is going to be torture. My back is starting to hurt just thinking about it.

Today, promises to be more interesting. I say that not so much because of plans that I have made but because I intend to make it so...

I have decided that it is completely redundant for me to keep apologizing for not writing often enough at the beginning of each blog, so I won’t. (I have only typed one sentence but already it feels really weird to be typing so much text in English.)

The last two (nearly three) weeks have been busy. I just finished finals yesterday—yes, actual finals! Did you think that this was just a big vacation for me?—and I am sufficiently pleased with the results of my ten weeks of toiling in the trenches (yeah right; when did I ever toil here?). Moreover, I feel accomplished and more confidant in my French after having completed my language course. I’m not perfect in speaking and sometimes my brain refuses to allow me to understand French when hearing it but overall, I’m not so bad. Finally, I’m ready to really live in France because I’m not such an idiot when it comes to communication but alas, I must depart…

Highlights of last two weeks:
Thanksgiving! Yes, I had a Thanksgiving here amongst the French. It was actually quite fun. U of C divided all of the students into small groups of 15-20, gave us an incredible budget, a kitchen, a place to eat and we made it happen! My group was great, overall we made really tasty food and we ended up having a huge, amazing party. My French professor, who is absolutely adorable and crazy (her name, Foltête, actually means “crazy head” in French), had her first Thanksgiving dinner with her wonderful language students. She’s so awesome. She checked on us constantly throughout dinner to make sure we were having a good time, then she left with us and made sure we got to the Métro with no problem—Madame Foltête has been like a (grand)mother away from home.

By the way, I was planning on baking a pecan pie for the festivities but there was no corn syrup to be found in this country. So I disgustedly ended my search and decided to just make a goofy box cake type brownie thing and add pecans to it. It wasn’t great but it was chocolate and people have a way of being blinded by chocolate so they don’t make sound decisions. That was Stacy-speak for “it went over pretty well.”


Aix-en-Provence. The week of November 28th was rather uneventful until the weekend when I went to Aix-en-Provence for art history class. Like Giverny, it was another overnight trip but because of its placement in the week (right at the beginning, December 5) we had the option to arrive early (the class met officially Monday morning). Most of us decided to go Sunday morning so we could have a full day there before class. Aix is gorgeous! It was almost like being in another country. In some way it felt like Amsterdam because of the arrangement of streets, shops, etc but it was so much more adorable. They celebrate Christmas like crazy. All the decorations are up in the center of town and on weekends they have a special outdoor Christmas festival with American Christmas music blaring on loud speakers up and down the streets. It was so festive but slightly odd because not only was there no snow but the temperature was a little warmer there than it was in Paris. Still, it was very cute.

Monday, we visited a beautiful church near the center of town and then a somewhat random but interesting museum that was full of porcelain and really old beautiful books. Aix is the hometown of Paul Cézanne, so our trip primarily focused on his greatness. Everywhere we went in Aix, we walked so after lunch we walked to Cézanne’s studio and then we spent the end of our day wandering around trying to find a special path where Cézanne used to go to paint Mont Sainte-Victoire. Our teacher was so excited for us to see it at sunset and we did in fact see the majestic mountain from various angles before sunset, during sunset and after but never from the exact point Cézanne used to visit. I felt sad for her because she was so eager to get there and we never found it. On the other hand, we ended up having a surprise hiking/semi-climbing adventure. While in search for the “little path on the right”, we ended up at a very hilly section of the forest on the outskirts of town and we were climbing up a hill in pursuit of our very lost instructor. It was great! There were decent paths to walk around the hill but none to go up and the ground was wet so of course there was some sliding involved. I got a little dirty but it was so much fun. It was hilarious when both our professor and our U of C chaperon pulled out their cell phones in the middle of the woods, trying to figure out where we were—it was urban hiking at its best.

U of C reserved an apartment in a hotel for the eight of us for Monday night. It was very interesting and huge. There were 15 beds in that crazy place! Again, like in Giverny, we had a great time. There was ballroom dancing, break dancing, a yoga stance or two but by far the most hilarious part of the night was the Human Knot. On our last trip we played Mafia for hours and exhausted it completely so the Human Knot was the next best choice for a group activity. The best part of it was when Jane, our chaperon, knocked on our door and we, being faithful to the knot above all else, walked over to the door to open it. My, was she surprised to see us all tangled up and what not (no pun intended)! Of course, being U of C students, we absolutely had to make a knot that was impossible to untangle. When will we ever learn?

Tuesday, we had a special lecture from a guest professor, who is a painter, art historian and a Cézanne expert (What more could you ask for?). After the lecture, he led us on an amazing hike through the woods near his home and we went to the exact places where Cézanne painted. It was spectacular. The woods were beautiful. It was so remarkable to look right at one of Cézanne’s works then look up at the exact tree or climb up one of the rocks that he painted. All along the paths were beautifully fragrant plants, like thyme and other herbs. We also went to Bibemus, which is the Roman rock quarry from which Aix gets its orange tinted stone. We were on restricted property and John, the guest professor, would periodically stop walking, gesture for us to be quiet, then, look ahead to see if we could possibly sneak by the workmen that were around the quarry. It was so fun; we were like spies—not really. When I get back to Chicago, I definitely am planning on taking up hiking or something very natural and outdoorsy.

NB: I would be remised if I did not give a special kudos to my dear friend, Diana, who, despite being dressed in what many would not classify as appropriate outdoor gear (what do they know?), was able to keep her light tan slacks absolutely spotless in the muddiest of conditions. It was remarkable. Now, I’m actually beginning to wonder if her pants were cleaner before the hike or after. Her stainlessness was humbling.


I have been having such an amazing time in and around Paris. The homesickness of the last entry has dissolved into a passion for the new home that I am leaving. I don’t want to go yet! I have formed a community with a spectacular group of people that was right under my nose in Chicago. My emotions are so mixed about leaving. I miss Chicago and family, friends, etc. but what will I do without my Paris? What will I do when I can’t walk down the street, buy a baguette from the boulangerie and a wheel of Camembert from the Fran Prix for lunch? Where will I go when I cannot hop a Métro to Champs-Elysées and enjoy l’Arc de Triomphe and la tour Eiffel in a single afternoon’s walk? Besides, I feel that I have evolved so much through this experience; I have another direction for my life now; it has been like a new beginning for me. My hope and prayer is that the person I have become will find a niche in the life that I left behind.

First things first…
Thanks so much to all of you who sent me a video message yesterday. It was absolutely on time. And special thanks to Bro. Wilson who took my desire and made it happen. I’ve been running a marathon of church DVDs this past week and I really miss my family at 411.

Next…Votes!
So far the tally goes as follows: 1 for #1 Donc, uuuhh, 3 for #2 Young Cocoanut Water and 1 for #3 All Roads Lead to Monoprix. Thanks to those of you who have voted. To those that haven’t, what’s taking so long? I’m only going to be here for about four more weeks so let’s get to the business!

Well, I have a lot of things to share so I’ll get right to it...
Last weekend, I went to Amsterdam. Overall, it was a fun trip, with the exception of the bus rides to and from Paris, which were particularly hot, stuffy and uncomfortable. I guess what matters, is that we all arrived and returned safely. In retrospect, I didn’t do very much in Amsterdam outside of walking around and adjusting to the culture shock. Although, I went to the Van Gogh Museum, which was sooooo awesome. It has the largest collection of his paintings in the world. The permanent exhibit follows his works chronologically, giving anecdotes and historical information alongside the tableaus. I feel like I really know Van Gogh and his career, which makes me appreciate his style more and also piques my interest in other painters as well. Also in Amsterdam, I visited the Bible Museum and it was fantastic. Amsterdam is built on water and along the canals are large houses that are generally about four or five floors high. The Bible Museum is in a canal house like these. Its motto is, “Where Bible, art and culture meet in a monument full of history.” Upon arrival, visitors take an elevator to the top floor, where the first exhibit, “The Children of Israel in Egypt,” is located. All of the exhibits were very interesting. The collection included artifacts from Biblical times, a model of the tabernacle according to its description in the Old Testament, visual and interactive media presentations and a host of other things. One exhibit examined Jerusalem as a Holy City for Christians, Jews and Muslims. For me, that was by far one of the most compelling attractions. Also, outside in the garden, there was an amazing statue. It captivated my attention and my cameras for quite some time. I won’t even try to describe it; just look at the pictures. (Click or copy the following link http://uchicago.facebook.com/photos.php?id=2903401&l=40fe5 and you should be directed to my facebook photo albums. The statue is in the album titled European Graffiti, etc. Let me know if the link doesn't function properly or if there is a problem navigating the site. Check often; I update my albums more than my blog.)

Another good thing about Amsterdam is that nearly everyone speaks English, which is great because I don’t speak a word of Dutch. I went to a restaurant with a couple of friends and a waiter approached us and said what sounded like five or six words in Dutch and we were just completely baffled. We responded with our customary request, “English?” He said, “Yes, I know. I was just saying ‘hello.’” It was so bizarre not to know a single word of the native language. Throughout my trip, I always had the urge to use French when speaking to clerks, etc. but of course, that was generally useless. American television in Dutch is hilarious. Flipping through channels in our hotel room, my roommates and I stumbled upon the Disney cartoon Kim Possible, dubbed in Dutch. It was a riot, especially when some words weren't translated. You hear all this Ductch then some goofy phrase like, "super security freaks" in English. What is that about? Dutch is a strange language to me. When I hear it, it’s like listening to an altered and somewhat painful form of English. Many words sound nearly the same but there are all these other foreign sounds that confuse my brain! Ouch! At the end of my three days and three nights in Amsterdam, I was extremely glad to return home to Paris and I still didn’t learn how to say “hello” in Dutch. (How many of you reading this just cringed at my usage of “home” and “Paris” in the same sentence? I know my mom just did.)

And the enchantment continues...
So, I’ve been back in Paris for a week now and it just keeps getting better. (Don’t think that I’m not homesick though, because I definitely am.) I’ve recently discovered an amazing microwaveable dinner that does not have to be stored in the fridge or freezer. Moreover, it has a crazy long shelf-life of like a year or something. How is it preserved that long? They’re sold in the same section as canned foods and include hearty combos like rice with chicken and vegetables in mild sweet and sour sauce, couscous with chicken and veggies, etc. I have picky eating habits but this stuff is actually good. It takes three minutes to cook in the microwave and its perfect, like home cooking. The French students here no doubt think us Americans crazy for all of our instant cuisine. They are so into cooking that I’m absolutely jealous. Everyone, even the men, create elaborate dishes from fresh ingredients. (Is there anything more attractive than a man who cooks?) Okay, maybe they’re not all that elaborate but they sure smell good. Until I discovered the microwaveable meals, I was so sad to walk through the lonely hallway, smelling that fine cooking and then come home to a baguette, chicken nems (egg rolls) or some canned something. Now, all is well. Oh and by the way, I did buy a mug for tea and a bowl so that I don't have to eat my canned somethings out of the can.

Last thing
Today, I went to a mall here for the first time. I don’t go to the malls in Chicago all that much but, this was so exciting. It really felt like home—meaning Chicago this time. I loved hearing the ambient noise of the large hollowed hallways, bustling with shoppers and the random and often American music playing in the various stores. I walked around and absorbed as much of the Americanized vibe as I could. It’s the kind of experience that you want to share with someone. For me, malls are absolutely ideal because I am a relentless comparison shopper—except when it comes to things I really like, in which case, price takes a backseat to my satisfaction. I comparison shopped a lovely while even though I didn’t buy anything. I also found “my shoes.” A few weeks ago, I was out with my home girl, Diana, and on the way to the Pompidou Museum we got sidetracked at a shoe store called Andre. She kind of needed a pair of shoes, I kind of didn’t but we both found a pair and then talked ourselves out of buying them. However, in a matter of about 7-10 minutes, I was able to successfully convince both of us that we did in fact need the shoes and more importantly, that we deserved them. So, we went back to Andre but unfortunately, they didn’t have either of our sizes in the requested styles. Since then, I have made it one of my personal missions to find another Andre and get my shoes! Wouldn’t you know it, there’s an Andre in the mall at Montparnasse and at some point I plan on returning to get what’s mine.

Okay this is actually the last thing—for real this time.
As per the advice of Diana, I’ve created a list of “Things to do before leaving Paris,” since most of my trip is behind me. The list reads as follows:

1. Revisit Sacre Coeur (Sacred Heart) with camera. (The first time I ended up there accidentally and without the proper equipment.)
2. Ride a boat. (preferably a dinner or lunch cruise)
3. Climb the Eiffel Tower. 20 novembre 2005 (That’s right, I already did it!)
4. Return to Centre Pompidou (a modern art museum) and explore extensively
5. FIND THOSE SHOES! 21 novembre 2005
6. Eat crème brûlé.
7. Visit Notre Dame.
8. Visit Cité. (another museum)
9. See "Melancholy". (a really cool museum exhibit at Grand Palais) 21 novembre 2005

So in the last two days, I’ve made a nice little dent in my growing list. I have to say that I’m quite proud of myself and I’m definitely on a roll. I didn’t realize how good it would feel to strike an item off the list in my Moleskine until I returned from the Eiffel Tower yesterday. It was soooooo cold but Diana and I climbed as far as we could. (You cannot actually climb to the top, just to the first level from the top, which is I think 400+ stairs and then you must pay again to take an elevator the rest of the way.) I expected to be sore today from all that climbing but I’m okay and I have to say that I wouldn’t mind doing it again. (Hey, I just slipped another story in didn’t I? Sorry folks. This wouldn’t happen if I blogged more consistently. What’s wrong with me?)

Anecdotes

Here I am again folks, writing to you all the way from Paris but I have been a bad blogger. It’s been a couple of weeks since I last visited J’adore Paris and I apologize but I fear that I am running out of things to say here. Perhaps next week, I’ll have more interesting stories after my trip to Amsterdam. Still, there is plenty happening in Paris that I could write about, of course and I don’t know if it will be interesting or not but I’ll give it a try anyway. (By the way, those of you who have heard about the riots should know that Paris, although it has been somewhat affected in the southern areas, is still safe and I am still safe. All is well.)

Anecdote 1 Donc uuuhh…
A week ago in French class, our instructor invited one of her colleagues to talk to us so we could practice speaking with someone new. The woman is Japanese and she teaches Japanese in a French school, I think. She was fun and interesting to talk with and she pointed out a difference between the way French people speak French and the way other people speak French. When Americans speak French we generally say, “Uummm” in between thoughts as we do in English or we just don’t make any sound when we have a loss for words. The French always have a sort of background hum behind their speech. There is almost always constant sound and their “uumm” is more rounded like “uuuuuuuhh;” it’s very heavy on the “u” like in the empty-headed “duuuh" sound but without the “d.” Ours is a lighter sound. (When I get back ask me about it and I’ll demonstrate.) So now, all of us Americans turned Frenchies walk around Paris trying to sound authentic, making the “uuuuh” sound instead of the “uummm” sound and one of our favorite phrases is “Donc, uuuuh” (donc means thus or therefore) and we say it all the time but rarely ever in context. It has become apart of the growing vocabulary of our Franglish. It is amazing to me how easy it’s becoming for me to interject a French word into an English sentence, whether I am talking or writing. I can’t tell you how many times in the last 15 minutes alone that I have wanted to type “je pense” for “I think” or “mais” for “but.” This habit works here when I’m speaking to fellow French language students but when I get home, je pense, uuuuuhh, I’m going to have to do a lot of translating.

Anecdote 2 Natural Young Coconut Water
Here in the wonderful city of Paris, I have taken the opportunity to sample a variety of different Asian cuisines. I have never had so many different types of Asian foods in my life! I think I can safely say that every week I’m eating someone else’s Asian food. Whether it’s Chinese, Japanese or Vietnamese, none of it is French and I don’t know how I feel about that yet. I’m not complaining though, its genuinely good food. Tonight, I returned with two friends to a Vietnamese restaurant for Pho, (pronounced “fuh”) an amazing beef based rice noodle soup that really warms you, heart and soul. Dinner was a success but as we were heading to the bus, we passed an Asian market and decided to stop. On the way out, I bought “Natural Young Coconut Water” as per the recommendation of one of my friends. I am generally willing to try different foods and drinks, so I approached this coconut water with an open mind. Unfortunately, it was awful. I personally do not think that one should have to chew when drinking out of a can. I don’t know what I was expecting but what I got was not it. The drink tasted kind of like V8 or something with a vegetable base, particularly carrots but then again my taste buds are strange. I think that Pho, which has cinnamon in its broth, tastes kind of like the milk left over from Cinnamon Toast Crunch but in a good way. So don’t take my word for it; check out the Argyle stop in Chicago and try some Pho or perhaps even some “Natural Young Coconut Water;” maybe your experience will be better than mine.

Anecdote 3 All Roads Lead to Monoprix
In my last entry, I mentioned our class trip to Barbizon, which was cut short, so a couple of weeks ago, a group of us decided to return to the town of Fontainebleau (the place in which Barbizon is located) to view the chateau there and perhaps take a hike through the forest. I traveled with five other students, some of whom were visiting Paris from a Spanish program in Grenada. We traveled by train to Fontainebleau, which is small and adorable like the Parisian countryside usually is but more urban, like Paris, with shops and bakeries, etc. In the beginning of our excursion, I separated from the group with my friend and we toured the grounds around the chateau, taking pictures like mad—which, I must say, we do quite well and quite often. After that, we toured the chateau—very nice—then we just walked around Fontainebleau for hours upon hours. While traversing the small town, we noticed a Monoprix, which is a large chain of stores in Paris that resemble something like our “super” stores. Monoprix sells clothes, house wares, etc. and also has a full-sized grocery store on the upper level. So, we walked all over Fontainebleau, saw the sights, walked through a cemetery, got a little lost—you know the drill. After the cemetery, we returned to the center of town and decided to pick another random direction to explore. Before long, we saw Monoprix again, so we picked another random road to follow; a bit later, Monoprix again. Finally, we decided to go in and buy something. Can you blame us? It was always there, just staring us in the face with its bright red letters, begging us to come inside and buy something, anything (even a 1.5L bottle of Fanta Light). In the end, we concluded that the franchise has a monopoly over that poor little town and uses its location as a marketing ploy so that regardless of where you go in Fontainebleau, all roads lead to Monoprix.


Now, the fun starts.
In my boredom, this chilly Sunday night, I have come up with what will hopefully be a fun way to increase reader commentary. Unfortunately, my previous attempt was unsuccessful but I am resilient and refuse to give up without a fight. Donc, uuuuuhh, I have presented these three anecdotes to you, my readers, so that you may select your favorite one. There are no criteria whatsoever; judge them any way you would like. All I ask is that you submit your vote via the comment link located just below this entry. Write as little or as much as you would like, leave your name and then publish your comment. I’ll give updates on the votes and then in a week or two, I’ll post the final results. If this seems completely pointless to you, you’re right, it is pointless but who says you can’t have fun doing something absolutely meaningless? Besides, it means something to me when readers comment; it’s encouraging and it makes me eager to write again because I know someone is reading. So, let’s get this party started! Vote early and vote often!

I don't know where to start this entry. Today has been pretty average. I went to class, returned to my room, slept for a couple of hours and then watched Monty Python and the Holy Grail for the second time (hilarious, you should rent it if you haven't seen it). There's hasn't been anything particularly French about today but yesterday my class took yet another excursion to yet another former artist community. This time, we went to Barbizon, which is a beautiful village that's larger than Giverny and much more touristy but still nice. The visit itself was not very eventful but the ride there and back was quite nice. For some reason, which I still haven't discovered, U of C secured a large tour bus to take us to Barbizon instead of a taxi or a small shuttle. It was a really nice bus with plush seats that recline out into "beds," televisions and enough seating capacity for about 75 people; there were only eight of us but who's counting. It was especially nice when the driver returned us to our dorm instead of to the Paris Center where we met and we exited the giant bus in the middle of our little neighborhood. I felt quite special; "Hey everybody, look at our big bus." (Sorry, I'm a little bored.)

I can't believe I've been here a month already. Where's the time going? Quick, everyone check your pockets!