Birthday & Thoughts on Ecriture (ironically typed)

(our road trip map, see Compiègne up top and Reims to the right? and Paris of course, that was our triangle of travel)


(view from someplace we stopped along the way to change drivers)


(cathedrale de Braine)


(hôtel de ville city hall of Compiègne, Joan of Arc came here to rally troops)

Lundi 5/4/10 (transferred from my normal paper journal)
I just went on a beautiful road trip yesterday. I had an amazing birthday in general. The notes on the other page are our directions outa Paris, written haphazardly in a librairie (book store) at Charles De Gaul (the airport where we rented a car from), so we'd only have to buy one map - a bigger one with less banlieu (suburban) details. The flower on the next page was in my hair all day through Compiègne, Reims, and Champagne country, and the song of the trip fits perfectly with it. The radio station we could get the best was like straight up club music all day, which was kinda funny considering we were driving through rainy countryside and medieval towns, but it made it like a party everywhere we went haha. Anywho, somebody decided to put that 60s song with the line "if you're going to San Francisco, be sure to wear some flowers in your hair" to club music! It was the most ridiculous song, with the crazy deep bassline behind such a chill set of lyrics. We thought it was hilarious so it became the trip song. The trip was frickin beautiful though, we got to see a bunch of towns Joan of Arc saw on her travels, and the cathedral in Reims where the kings were always crowned, and then drove up into this field and had sandwiches on a hill of grapevines and saw the sunset over an unbelievable view! My camera died halfway so I'll have to snag some pics from Martha n Alex.

(view from the hill where we had our sandwiches)
I wish I could write about everything! Gah, there's just never enough time and I have so much shit I wanna record, well here's somethin I've been thinkin about


Thoughts on Ecriture
I bought this pen (a sweet fountain pen) not long ago, mostly because you can erase it (German technology I in fact make sparse use of), but I've since fallen in love. I feel like I'll hang on to this pen cuz it's so cool, and you can refill the ink, and it'll have some longevity in my life unlike most small quotidien (daily or common) items. The angle of the tip gives it some personality and for the first time I feel right writing in cursive - a long lost art thanks to computers, poor elementary education, and character-less, mass-produced pens.
Laura and I somehow got into discussing Parisian revolutionary history the other day and when she opened her notebook to validate her claim of Louis-Philippe's maintenance of the pre-1830 monarchical methods. I noticed her handwriting had changed like mine into cursive at the point of purchasing a fountain pen. Cursive can be frickin beautiful.
Just one more thing to love about europe. In the states it's almost impossible to find these pens, whereas here they're everywhere you'd find pens - monoprix, librairies, and there's a whole frickin floor devoted to pens in Gilbert Joseph on St. Michel! In the states we have no erasable pen worth mentioning and we've lost the feel for cursive. No one can even read it anymore. Thanks to computers no one can read most handwriting anymore and it's truly a shame. So much personality and life can go into the written word. It was central to academic/intellectual life in a way we can't understand post-computer-ubiquity.

Reading literature lately has been fulfilling my spiritual lackings a great deal. My good friend Vicky Hugs has a lovely section of Notre Dame de Paris about the transition into life with a printing press. He's a genius of course and had a perspective I'd never really considered before. Architecture was the greatest means of mass communication and self-expression pre-printing-press. P. 161 "chaque face, chaque pierre du vénérable monument est une page non seulement de l'histoire du pays, mais encore de l'histoire de la science et de l'art." (each face, each stone of the venerable monument is a page not only of the history of our country, but also of the history of science and art.)

(Inside Notre Dame de Paris)
Of course he emphasizes his subject and the medieval time period he so Romantically respects. It's cool to look at the building like that though, of course there's loads more explanations, but I won't bore you. You should just go read it again, unabridged, in french...

ok one more cool quote - parisian houses like water. P. 166 "Les maisons se pressent, s'accumulent et haussent leur niveau dans le bassin comme l'eau dans un reservoir. Elles commencent à devinir profondes, elles mettent étages sur étages... les maisons enfin sautent par-dessus le Mur de Philippe-Auguste, et s'éparpillent joyeusement dans la plaine sans ordre et tout de travers, comme des échappées." (The houses press against one another, accumulate and raise their level in the basin like water in a reservoir. They start to become deep, the put floor upon floor... the houses finally jump over the wall of Philippe-Auguste (built in the 11oos), and scatter themselves joyously in the plain without order and by all means, like freedmen.)


(cathedrale de reims)

sick in Tuileries/Parc Montsouris

7/4/10 (transferred from paper)
I'm sitting in the Jardin des Tuileries right now on a bench on a lovely day - a little grey but nice and warm and there's a cute little black bird taking a bath in a puddle behind me and loads of tourists walking to and fro. I'm a little dizzy still form the sickness, but I spent the whole damn day and night in bed yesterday and I'd rather chill somewhere different today.
I spent a little while trying to find a park with internet and most the way from 93 St. Michel (where our IPP classes are) to Place des Vosges (where I know they have internet) I decided I'd rather find a park I'd be comfortable in. I'm sick, and I wanna lay in the grass in the sun and be happy. However, Paris sucks sometimes and has rules up the ass unnecessarily and you can never sit on the fuckin pelouse (grass). I came to a big central park thinking maybe I could find a corner, but I'm tired of walking and a bench will just have to do.

It's definitely cool to say I'm in the Jardin des Tuileries. I can see the Louvre off to the left, Place de la Concorde to the right, and the Musée d'Orsay across the river. i can think about the Palais de Tuileries which once stood here-ish and how it was torn down in the 1848? revolution. I can even think of the millions who've walked here - royals, revolutionaries, celebrities, common parisians, and tourists. I can think of the many lives and stories associated with this place. But I'm sick and all I keep thinking about is how it wouldn't be a big deal to wake the pelouse. (the signs saying the grass is forbidden say "pelouse en repos" or "the grass is resting")
I could go back to good old Montsouris where they have both internet and spots to lay on the grass. Not yet though, I've not patience for the metro and no conscience to walk it.
What the hell gives them the idea this is a park? It's like 80% gravel and there's someone trying to sell you something every 10 ft. I guess it's a jardin, not a parc, but still...
Ough, some jackass just hit me with his sac en plastique while he walked by. Why

Later
He came back as I was writing that last sentence and sat down right behind me, so I promptly packed my shit and left. Guys fuckin suck here. What would give you the idea that it's ok to do that? To treat a woman like a piece of shit and then you expect her to fawn on you or something? That's clearly why he came back, knowing he'd snagged my attention, surely the only thing I could possibly be thinking is how to jump is bones and he made it so convenient for me to talk to him! Fuck you jackass!
I don't trust anyone here. After I left the Tuileries I took the RER B down to Montsouris and now I've found a nice spot on a hill where I can sit in the grass. I can get internet if I want, and there's honestly a lovelier arrangement and collection of trees and flowers here. I think I'm under an oak tree and little ones are springing up at its roots. Down the hill is an arrangement of impatiens(?) and a cherry tree in full blossom. Over to my right is a lovely patch of daffodils, although most the blossoms are gone. It's gettin on that time of spring already... For as quick as it does grow, it decays away so soon, before the summer sunshine has reached its golden noon, before the summer sunshine has reached its golden noon.

Anywho, so I layed on this hill and read a little more Hemingway before I started writing and I stopped because some guy who'd been chillin down the hill from me got up and walked entirely too close to my head.
What kind of world is this where you're never safe and where people aren't even people anymore. they're ok being creepy transitory assholes. Maybe it's just my experience as a woman. It's a different world I experience. It seems worse here than in the states, but even in Chicago the hollering started young. Yeah it's worse here, even just from the fact that I can't understand them fully a lot of the time. The overly pushy jackass creeper will always be a part of my Parisian experience. Maybe it's part of the reason I couldn't say I would move back here for good like Jordan so badly wants to.
I have the odd-enough preference to want to actually be slightly respected on a daily basis.
Maybe I just feel more strongly about it because my gender class has me thinking about my subjugated position here. Maybe it's just because I'm against the idea of getting involved with anyone right now and I see through the stupid game of even the well-intentioned frenchman.

Later
I read a little more, but I know I won't live a moment exactly like this again so I wanna record it. To my left on the hill are a couple of couples lying together. Behind them the B train keeps going by with its bells and grating metallic brakes. Down the hill from me a little is a backpacker laying on his backpack, a guy behind a pine tree I can't really see, and a raven picking through the grass for seeds. To the right of them by the bed of flowers is a cute little group of 2 women and 2 girls. One girl has a green bandana and she keeps running up and down the hill and all around, making exclamations of joy and discovery and playing generally the way I wish I still did. So cute. Lastly there's a group of students further over to the right chillin on the hill with their cigs and their air of cool amusement. The tree I'm under has a good start on growing its leaves, and they make stars in the sky. Other people pass on the sidewalks, but they don't really matter so much. It looks like it's gonna rain, so I might head back.

Blogging again!

Hey everyone,
So I know it's been a long time since I've written anything, and most of you have probably stopped reading, but it's nearing the end, so I figured I might as well give some sort of sense of my time here. I definitely gave myself a big task with the whole "assignment" thing trying to fit with school, but once I'm done in a couple weeks maybe I'll put some of those up. For now I'm going to put up some tidbits from my journal, and they might be out of order or out of context, but they'll definitely give you a sense of what I've been up to. Things in parentheses are extra explanations for you.

6/5/10
I fuckin love my life here. Today is amazing. I got up a little late, but I made it to class just on time. I had to take the 21 bus up to Auguste Blanqui and then walk to stupid St. Jacques cuz they've closed Glacière (my closest metro stop) pour travaux till August! It's not so bad though, the 21 goes straight to the classes on St. Michel by Luxembourg, so that's still rather convenient. Anywho... We had Romantisme at the museum of Maison de Balzac over by Passy on the 6.

The beginning parts were dec, here's paintings of people he knew and the desk he wrote on, etc. but the last room on the top floor was fuckin amazing! They had the original printing blocks of the illustrations from his books. The detail and personality in each one was awesome, but they're only a few inches square each. They had every character I think, and we could find Colonel Chabert (which we read in lit). I took pictures of as many amazing ones as I could before the class moved on and I didn't wanna miss what he said. The bottom room was sweet too: all caricatures from journaux, mostly critiquing "constitutional" king Louis-Philippe as a pear, haha.


Then I went with Antonia and Amira a bit of the way outa there, took the RER A for the first time (where we saw a guy halfway through eating a whole pie!) to Châtelet. The Monop' (small version of a common supermarket) in the level that connects all the RER trains has the best fuckin juice. Me and Alex discovered it the day we went for a picnic in Bois de Vincennes. So I got the juice and a wrap for lunch and got to trying to find my way outa the station (no easy task). Châtelet's a fuckin bitch to navigate, but there's surprises around every corner! I went up and down some stairs, down a few tunnels and heard violins, and decided to follow the sound.
I've seen them before, but it was nice to take some time to stop and listen to this big sting group that playis in the tunnels. They're amazing! They played Bach first (I only caught the tail end) and then went into Pachabel's Canon! Ooh! Brought chills! I have some change and went up the stairs outa the crowd. i was about to leave when the higher line of the violin 1 snagged something in my heart and I had to turn back. I had fuckin tears in my eyes for the whole end of the song. Fuckin beautiful! And with each note echoing off the metro walls it can't get any better.

I even found my way out rather swiftly after that (down a tunnel curving left, down some stairs, sharp right and up an escalator, right again, through the doors, left, and up the stairs to Rue de Rivoli). Now I'm in the park around the tour St. Jacques on a bench in the sun with beautiful flowers on the trees in front of me, birds chirping in the tree above me, and these 2 little kids playing and running back and forth along the gravel path. So cute!


Aight, I'm gonna go find some flats to dress up my outfit for the ballet at Opera Garnier tonight! and then I'm off to class to discuss some Flaubert. Tootles!

Amsterdamn!

Bruxelles, Belgium - we passed through


A sweet building on a canal, just a typical image of Amsterdam


This was amazing to find - a whole bunch of swans coating this canal

I know I know it's been forever and a half since I've written, but I'm here now and I'll try and fill you in on some recent stuff I've been up to.
About a month ago me and my friend Neta took a little trip to the Netherlands. I was getting annoyed of Paris, and she was down for an adventure, so we made random plans to head outa town for the weekend, and in a few hours by train we were in Amsterdam. We went from France, through Belgium, and into Holland in the same time it takes to get from Champaign-Urbana to Chicago! Gotta love Europe.
Once we made it known to the world through Facebook that we were going to Amsterdam that weekend, it became evident that we'd chosen a perfect weekend. Loads of friends were going the same time, and we had an awesome crew to chill with. My friend Adam from U of I in the same program in Paris was planning on going, and had contacted about 6 other US friends also studying in Europe (in various places) to meet there. One friend turned out to be a girl named Beata who I actually went to middle school with and is studying in Barcelona this semester! I haven't hung out with her in forever, but we randomly ended up in the same hostel in Amsterdam hehe. It was a blast!
Neta's from Israel, and grew up half there and half in the States on the East coast. One of her friends from Israel, Jonathan, grew up in Amsterdam, and happened to be back in town that weekend as well, so we even had a local with awesome English to show us around aside from the US group of tourists. I stayed in the hostel the first 2 nights, but the 3rd night after the other Americans left I stayed at Jonathan's with Neta for free!
We went to a variety of museums, though they unfortunately charge for students in Amsterdam, be warned! I guess Lisbon, Madrid, and Paris just love their students more hehe. The Rijksmuseum was my favorite, it had a bunch of awesome classic artists - rembrandt, vermeer, etc. They didn't let me take pictures there :( but take my advice and definitely go if you have a chance. We didn't go to the Van Gogh museum because I heard it wasn't that worth it - expensive, and not that much cool stuff since most of his things have been sold off elsewhere. I guess I still wish I'd been anyway, but it's expensive to travel and it's probably best that I saved the money considering there's plenty of Van Gogh in the Musee D'Orsay.
The Anne Frank house was really moving. I've read the book, I've seen the movie, I've heard a lot about the holocaust, but it hits you a whole different way being there. Especially going with Neta it felt really important. She's doing an internship at the Holocaust memorial in Paris this semester, and she's met many people in Israel who survived it, so it's very real to her. It had a pretty hopeful end to the museum though, we can only hope the world will learn.
Ok, I guess I'll give a run down of some impressions of Amsterdam. The architecture is beautiful, but the city is confusing in terms of place names and concentric rings of canals. Bad signage, but not bad once you figure it out a bit. Best part: the people were soooo nice! Most everyone spoke English, which is kind of sad I guess and feels disrespectful that so many people come and can't speak Dutch, but it doesn't seem to bother them. I never thought of Parisians as assholes till I compared them to the Dutch. They're happy to speak English with you, happy to hear where you're from, happy to share their city with you, it was amazing. Me and Neta had a great time. We came to a couple of conclusions - that Amsterdam is a magical and sparkly city (especially at night with the reflections off the canals), and that we're citizens of the world now. hehe, I think I get that feeling from traveling in general, but it felt so welcome there. The other Americans we were with were sharing stories of their various study abroad places - spanish, english, french, dutch. There were kids in the hostel from all sorts of places - turkey, somalia, argentina, japan. It's an amazing world, and it's cool to meet the people who travel it :)
The last night we went to see Alice in Wonderland in 3D and Imax in the suburbs with Jonathan and a few of his friends. Me and another American girl took the train to meet up with Neta and the guys, and it was interesting to see just how big the city really is. We'd only stayed in the center so far all weekend and used the trams to get everywhere, but the metro goes a lot further, and the architecture gets a lot more modern and big. I guess the edges of all european cities are mostly really similar to the states.
We took a train back to Paris early Monday morning and got in with just enough time for me to run home, grab my books, and get to class by noon hehe. I love it when my travel plans work out :)


Capioera in Leidseplein in Amsterdam

Paris je t'aime

I felt like putting a weird structure to this post, lemme know if it’s too confusing. Everything got retitled post-writing basically, so it’s not entirely themed towards the titles, but it marches I hope.

Introduction -
Je ne t’aime toujours:
I was getting a little tired of Paris this weekend for a bunch of reasons. I love my friends here, but I was really missing my Urbana homies, and it can get frustrating sometimes when I can’t fully express myself with so many of the people I talk to. There’s a barrier there, though it is getting better, I can have intense conversations even if it’s not everything I want to say. French guys are annoying, way to pushy and persistent. I was also starting to feel the school stress for the first time, and now it’s all French, so the ideas of my readings may be great but they’re hard to access. Plus it was really cold this weekend, just when I was starting to think we were on an upswing of temperature. Granted it’s no Chicago hehe, but it was freezing all weekend, and your chill space is greatly reduced when it’s that cold.
However, the last 2 or 3 days have completely rekindled my love for Paris.

Monday –
After class I went to chill with my friend Jordan, and we looked at his gorgeous pictures and drawings of Paris. He’s got a love for the city more than any other American I’ve met here and is sure to live out his life here, which is awesome. So now I’m inspired to get out and draw some more again. Every frickin building is beautiful! But even the less traditional views are gorgeous if seen from the right light. The southern suburban view from his window looks over smokestacks and cheap highrises, but pictures of it at sunrise are unbelievable. The buildings reflect the sky’s colors back and forth, the smoke echoes the color in a different shade, and you can’t imagine it’s the same place.

Experimental dinner:
We went down and made dinner in the basement kitchen of their dorm, and made an odd concoction of pear, potato, meatball, pesto, egg, cinnamon, Tabasco, thyme, vinegar, olive oil, milk, and couscous with garlic and nuts. It sounds weird, but it was actually Really good! There were a bunch of other kids cooking and we all ended up sitting around this big table talking. They were first making fun of local neighborhood characters, but it turned to political systems and comparisons between socialism and communism, etc. It’s hard to participate sometimes, but it was cool. Their dorm socializes a lot more than mine, no computers at the dinner table, no countries keeping to themselves, it’s hard to crack the shell at my dorm. I think the fact that it’s coed, unlike mine, helps for some reason. French guys can be annoying at bars, but in their home environment they can be pretty cool ☺ I guess it’s like that in any country, hehe.
Then to conclude the day I went home after dinner and did some awesome readings on French feminism. This class gets me all fired up, I frickin love it!

Tuesday:
Thai:
After my Romantisme class I wandered a bit with my friend Alex. We went over by the Bastille and walked down any awesome street we could find. We found this sweet narrow street that was just so classic old Paris, but there was a restaurant Thailandaise on it! I worked at a Thai restaurant in Urbana for like 9 months, so I’ve been dying for some real thai food, in the way that some of my American comrades miss mac and cheese or peanut butter. We split an expensive but oh so delicious plate of pad thai, and had jasmine tea, and at the end of it I even got to say kapunkah (thank you)! Fantastic!

Revolution:
We saw the Opera de la Bastille and the canal that goes underground there, wandered around the square looking for the lines on the ground that mark the old Bastille building (destroyed by the 1789 revolution, as you know I hope), and talked with some money-raisers about cancer. I’ve seen the Place de la Bastille before, but I’ve never appreciated the monument in the center before. It’s a green pillar with a gold angel (mercury) on top, and there’s all these names carved in the sides. It memorializes those killed in the 1830 revolution. In the states we talk about the 1789 revolution a lot, and how it went into the terror and all and then led to Napoleon, but you rarely learn about all of the following revolutions. The 1800s are spewing with popular revolt, and I frickin love it!
3 of my 5 classes are talking about the 1800s right now, and reading literature specific to the sentiments of each period. The 1830 revolution has so much more meaning after reading the poetry of say Barbier, with a symbolic lion fighting so hard, but waking up to find he’s been muzzled. The glorious July revolutionaries are symbolized as a lion because of the astrological symbol. The Parisian people fought for a republic, and they destroyed the empire to get it, but what did they end up with? A constitutional monarchy under Louis-Philippe. Cheap compromise, waking up muzzled. So they revolted again! Hello 1848!
I wish the States had had more upheaval in it’s past. People are too content with the system. The popular view from my US generation seems to be: the government sucks, but there’s nothing we can do about it, once the last ignorant generation dies it’ll be better right? Personally, that shit kills me, and I have to get up and do something. Getting people fired up is hard though, and even when you do it seems like no one listens. The government doesn’t listen to the people, and the people don’t think they’ll be heard, but they have to make themselves heard! The French really do expect a revolution around the next corner, and a government should fear its people (in the words of V for Vendetta). The French go on strike and protest all the time, and it can be annoying when you’re trying to catch a flight, but it’s great at the same time.

More Wandering and Chicken fried rice:
Anywho, so we wandered west a little into the Marais, and found a couple of awesomely old medieval buildings that looked all tudor (a rare find indeed). Across from the Lycée de Charlemagne (in the former monastery buildings attached to St. Paul), there were some kids playing basketball in a court with a sweet wall. It looked like the side of a castle. Walked up, turned out it was! I love this city! We stumbled upon the last standing wall (huge) of the fortress of Philippe-Auguste, which he built to protect the city when he went off to fight in the crusades in the 12th century. Awesome! Then we found a new thrift store (the marais is full of friperies), and proceeded to dig through a 1euro scarf box for an hour or so. Then I came home, made some awesomely successful chicken fried rice with Sam and Nina, and did some homework. It was a good day.

Wednesday :
Chopin:
genre class, lunch, nap, errands, and picked up my Amsterdam train tickets at Gare du Nord, then went to a Chopin concert at the Cité de la Musique. Chopin is frickin amazing! It was his birthday last week I think, so they’ve been having a lot of stuff recently in Paris to celebrate, including a series of concerts. My Romantisme class has a lot of field trips to museums and stuff, but this one was different, and really sweet. It was only about an hour and a half, but the pianist was amazing! He was so into it, you could see the expression on his face change with the emotions brought out by the music. I could see his hands reflected in the open part of the piano, and you could just tell he had the whole crowd in his hands. He played Nocturne in C-sharp Minor, which I knew, and I just about died. In between at a few points everyone applauded, but at the end it was an explosion of cheers and calls of “encore!” This old lady next to me surprised me with her fiery calls. We’d had such a nice chat at the beginning about how we’d both played piano when we were young and missed it. She played violin too, and she spoke german, French, and English, though I insisted she speak French with me. She was so calm and refined at first, but when it came to shouting “encore!” she was a whole different person hehe. He came back for an encore.

Thursday (today) –
Foiled by the masses:
I was trying to meet my Romantisme class at 11 for a trip to the Musée Carnavalet (Parisian history, in the Marais), but there was a protest going on at my metro stop and I couldn’t get in. I was all excited when I first walked up, protests make me happy, but it turned out it was against abortion. I’m no fan of abortion or anything, but I’m definitely pro-choice. People are going to find a way, they have for hundreds of years, you might as well make it legal so girls aren’t dying in gutters.
I then became annoyed that I couldn’t get in to my metro stop, and consequently got to the museum late. I was trying to text Antonia to find out where they were in the museum, and wandered for a while looking for them, but she didn’t get back to me till I was leaving, since I thought class would be over. Apparently the teacher knew about the protest though so he said it was cool. I’m definitely going back to Carnavalet though, it was awesome, I love Parisian history, it’s right here!

Wandering and Hugo:
I had some time till my next class so I wandered and found the hotel I stayed at with my dad when I first came to paris in 8th grade. That was satisfying, because I feel like I’ve finally centered the Paris I saw then with the Paris I know now. Then I went in to check out St. Pauls, and then went to meet my friend Jordan for coffee by the Catho.
We had a presentation on Victor Hugo today, he talked about a section of Les Mis, this girl Ashley talked about his biography, and I talked about his poem “demain, dès l’aube,” which is frickin beautiful! I think our presentation went swimmingly, then we watched some of a video of the play we’re reading – Hugo’s Ruy Blas. It was hilariously over the top dramatic. Reading it its got weight, but the acting was just funny. I love Hugo, I’d marry him if he was alive, more attractive, and a little less misogynistic. I guess I wish I could marry his writing really. But that’s the beauty of reading isn’t it.

Thoughts on Catholicism:
On my way home I was talking with my friend Martha and missed my stop, so I took another route, and walked through Parc Montsouris to get home. There’s a church I’ve been meaning to check out over to the west a bit, so I went and saw that too. It’s kinda buried between the courtyards of other highrises, but I got in and found the adorable local chapelle de Sainte Jeanne d’Arc. It was deathly still and empty, but the stained glass was epic. I’ve gotta go back with my camera. It’s interesting thinking about France’s history with Catholicism. In a country steeped in “laïcité” (secularism), it’s frowned upon to represent your religion on the streets, and yet the country has such a base in it, churches everywhere, etc. I guess this church is newer so it hasn’t had the same drama, but St. Pauls had signs everywhere talking about how they got raped by the revolution.

Oh my god I heard the saddest story the other day. Apparently the courtyard in the middle of the complex of buildings that make up L’Institut Catholique (La catho, where I take 3 of my classes) was the site of some really heavy history. So in the period of the 1789 revolution, Catholicism was seen as an oppressive force in society equal to monarchy and aristocracy. King and queen, loads of nobles lost their heads, thank you guillotine. Not only that though. Specifically where I walk most every day, they rounded up a whole bunch of priests and nuns from local churches, and held them in the courtyard. They ended up executing about half of them, about 200 as far as I can tell. A nun told Alex, who told me, and her imitation of “cette endroit est très lourd” even gave me chills.
I like revolution plenty, but I like peace more, though there’s a lot at stake either way.

Conclusion -
Anywho, I just made some pasta to go with my daily baguette and bread, and I’m gonna go to Foyer Massena to either jam, write a paper, or watch a movie. Hasn’t been decided yet. Wish me luck in Amsterdam tomorrow! A bientôt!

Some rough times in paris

Life happens anywhere you go, and a few weeks ago it seemed like everything happened in a row.
I had a weird weekend with some drama among my friends here, then I was chilling with my friend Sam at a cafe down the block (L'Ariel), just having a beer and relaxing outside, when some bullshit went down. A guy came up seeing her pack on the table and asked for a cigarette. She said no, and he saw my phone sitting on the table, snatched it and ran. I shouted "Fuck You" and booked it after him. I don't even know what I was thinking or what I would have done if I'd caught him, but it was just instinct to chase him. I was right on his heels for like 3 blocks, and I don't know how I kept running so long, but he turned a corner and disappeared! I checked in every store on the block, but he must have gone into an apartment or something.
I went back to the cafe, found Sam (who had packed up all of our stuff), and we went in to ask the cafe workers what we should do. Paris really got me mad here, because they completely didn't care. As Sam was packing up our stuff, no one came out to see if we were ok, or see what had happened, even though he'd knocked over a beer and there was clearly a distressing situation of some sort. We asked if we should call the police and they just said "they're not gonna come." They then proceeded to lecture us about leaving things out in the open. It was on the table for like 3 minutes, since I'd just answered a call from someone, and Parisians put their phones on cafe tables all the time! They told us to go to Place d'Italie, to the neighborhood police station and report it. The whole walk there me and Sam were venting about how messed up it was, and pointing out people at cafes with their phones on the table. We wandered around the Place and learned about 4 words for police station, since people never understood the last one we'd learned and insisted another word was more "courant." Finally we got to the police station, waited in line, and filled out some paperwork that we learned was really more for the sake of the neighborhood than my specific phone. They're pretty much never gonna find it, but at least now they know there was one more robbery in the 13th arrondissement. Poop. Well it happens I guess, Yoko apparently has lost 8 phones in the last 2 years, Laura got her phone stolen out of her bag, Portia got her phone stolen out of her pocket. At least I got to yell at the guy, and give him a bit of a fright hehe.
I've now put a ban on the Ariel, since they were so mean about it, we'll see if they can win back my business by sheer convenience. Fortunately my friend Antonia had an extra phone from when she switched phone service, so I didn't have to pay extra to get a new one. It's working fine now, and I've gotten most my contacts back. I did go about a week without a phone though, which was really crappy.

My legs were absolutely sore for a few days after chasing him, since I haven't been dancing or anything in a while. Worse though was that my foot hurt, I was really worried I'd broken it or something because it just got worse over the next few days. I started orientation for my school program the next day, and we did a lot of walking around Paris, Versailles, the Louvre, etc. most the weekend, and I was unfortunately limping for a lot of it. It's feeling better now though, I think it just needed rest.

Then that Saturday I was hanging out with some of the new kids who came to start my program, just chilling on some wine in their dorm, and it was rather late when I decided to go back to my dorm. Little did I know that my family had been trying to get a hold of me all day, but couldn't because my phone was gone, and I was hanging out with kids who also didn't have phones yet since they'd just arrived. So I came home and found Laura and Yoko, who told me to call my mom immediately. They'd gotten a scary message from my mom, so they got a hold of me old-fashioned-style and showed up at the dorm.
I got my computer and got on skype and everything, and found out my grandpa died. I'm glad I've got some good friends here at the dorm because it was kinda hard, but I was mostly worried about my family at home. It's hard to be separated from people at a time like that. My brother in Nicaragua, my cousin in Argentina, and me were three lone wolves who couldn't come back for the funeral. Over the next few days we talked with each other a bunch, and with random members of the family through skype and facebook. Technology truly is amazing. My dad skyped me in to the wake even, and I got to say hi to a bunch of aunts, uncles, cousins, and even my grandma. I wish I could have really been there with everyone, but I'm glad I could be there in spirit, and digitally.
That next week I started classes, and I think the day after the wake I was walking around Paris doing my thing and I got a crêpe. I thought of a story my grandpa had told me about the french. I'm not sure when or where but I get the feeling that it was sometime during the war. He came across some french guys making pancakes, but the minute the dough would start to rise in that wonderful way it does, they'd Slap it back down with the spatula. It would get those bubbles and rise a little more, and Slap they'd flatten it again! I saw the guy making this crepe on the Rue de Rivoli, and I had to laugh. My grandpa was right, that is Not how you make a pancake.
I've been thinking about my grandpa a lot, and I can't wait for my cousin Matt's wedding in fall, when all the cousins will be back in town and we'll be able to reminisce with everyone together. We've all got a lot of great memories with my grandpa. Dancing with maracas for a sick son, playing dress-up with a persistent granddaughter, or just fishing on Powers Lake, he'll always be with us.

What have I been up to lately? and some history

Pictures -
*me in front of my dorm, it's a funny 70sey building
*Centre Pompidou (Baubourg),
*An old map of my quartier, if you look up a current map you can center my house between Place d'Italie and Parc Montsouris, over a frickin river!
*Laura's bday we had a HUGE group go for karaoke, it was a blast
*Sam eating a crêpe in front of our train stop
*Renoir's Moulin de la Galette - Musée d'Orsay

I haven't written in a while, so I figured I'd give a little update of what I've been up to. I've done lots of touring and adventuring around town, and I feel like I'm really starting to get my bearings. I don't even have to look at a map anymore to go some places. But even in new places I have an idea of how the system works now, so I guess you could say I'm no longer so grid-dependent. My french is getting better I think, I feel more confident, and I feel like I'm understanding more, although I still make "beaucoup de fautes."
I don't wanna go into like every day, but I've visited the Louvre twice, the Musée d'Orsay, Notre Dame, and a whole bunch of quartiers (neighborhoods). For the last week or so I've been hanging out every day with my new friend Sam (in the skipping video of my last post) and a bunch of other people we've met now in the dorm: a few Americans, an Estonian, a few Italians, an Israeli, a Tunisian, and occasionally some Germans. It's so much better now that I know people here, I finally found the trash bins and the washing machines, and I know which internet works best on which floors, and we can cook big dinners together :) I also found out that you can ask the front desk for sheets and a blanket lol. That woulda been nice to know earlier on, but at least now I've got double the blankets. Quite handy since the windows aren't the best and it flurried a bit today!

Friday I wandered around the Centre Pompidou and the Marais, then went out to a bar by Oberkampf with some friends. Saturday we celebrated Laura's birthday with a huge group of people from all different countries and speaking a whole variety of languages. Everyone gathered at her dorm Masséna and a huge group of like 26 took the metro to this karaoke bar making a ruckus all the way hehe. It was a blast! Sunday I chilled in the dorm and recovered a bit, then yesterday I almost went to the Catacombs with Yoko but it's closed Mondays, so we went to eat and chilled a bit instead. Then last night Sam's new french friend Larbi came for dinner and like 6 of us cooked dinner and chilled on some wine and pool in the common room.
Finally, today I mostly just chilled around the dorm, drew some dying flowers in my room, read about Paris, and studied French grammar. Nina, Neta, Sam, and I met up in the common room and did our nails, then I went to Monoprix to buy a new mug (cuz mine broke falling off the pool table last night), and I made some ramen. Now I'm chillin in the common room with my friend Bre (who's writing a paper), researching Parisian history. Lol as I was writing that someone shut off the lights and the whole room started singing Joyeux Anniversaire for a couple of girls holding a birthday cake, how cute!

A Bit About The 13ième Arrondissement
Ok so I've been reading a lot lately about Parisian history, and if you've been here before or if you're interested in France you might know a bunch, but you've probably never heard the history about my area. It's such a big city with so much history it's hard to talk about everything, so we'll start with this. I live in the 13th arrondissement, on the Rue de Tolbiac: named after a Galois town and also a big battle in 496AD between king Clovis I and the Alamanni (germanic tribe), when they all came under Frankish dominion, and Clovis got converted to christianity.
My local train station is called Glacière, also the name of a street right nearby. Sam and I went to a cute local bar down the block last week and the owner was telling me that it was named after ice-sellers that lived on the street and sold ice from the river (glace=ice in french, glacière=icebox). So I'm thinking about how far the Seine is and thinking how that doesn't make sense, and the guy tells me there was a closer river.

So I forgot about it for a bit, till today when I was reading about the arrondissement in general. The Gobelins tapestry factory nearby is famous because it's been processing, dying, and weaving tapestries the same painstaking way for like 400 years. I haven't visited yet, but I know where it is because it's where we change nightbuses. So I'm reading up on the history, and they say at some point that all the dyes from the factory flowed into the Bièvre river and they decided to cover up the river for sanitary reasons in the early 20th century because it was getting so polluted. So I remembered what my neighborhood bar-owner had said and look up Bièvre river. It turns out it my dorm is on top of the former 2nd Parisian river, which flows from a southern suburb into the seine still, but its Paris portion is invisible. It's underground and eventually flows into the sewer system. How cool is that?
I also started reading this great book where this guy goes through 21 centuries of Parisian history by metro stops, and making each chapter/century correlate to a station. It's perfect for me, and the author is adorably enamored by history. It's also in french, so it's good practice. I'm also still trying to finish Les Misérables (in english), still a daunting task, but its cool because I'm actually here and I can see the spots he's talking about. His characters also walk thru my neighborhood at one point, soo cool! I've still gotta make it to the Hugo museum by the Place des Vosges one of these days.
Aight, catch ya later

a couple goofy parisian videos

"skipping in the rain in Paris... Franprix!"


We call her "La Reine de la Crêpe" - Queen of the crepe mmmm :)

Thoughts on the Life of a Barista

L'Ariel café

Tim's blog assignment: "Alright, first assignment, grab a cup of coffee in a cafe and tell me about the barista. Speculate on the sort of life you think they may or may not lead." Tim's a barista himself, so this is a fitting assignment hehe.

Ok I wrote this in my journal originally, and just transcribed it online, so don’t think of me typing online at a tiny table, writing gives a much more classic image hehe.

Thursday January 21, 2010
I’m in a café right now on the corner of Rue de la Glacière and Rue de Tolbiac and Place Coluche in the 13ième arrondissement in a café called L’Ariel. My friends Antonia and Jordan have emphasized that I get to know my neighborhood, so I’m fulfilling this blog mission in a local joint on my corner. I’m gonna go into the whole experience of it more than just my ideas about the barista so you can get more of the feel of being here.
Let me start by saying I really like this place and I’m glad it’s so close to my house. It’s adorable! Great decoration and stuff, and the neighborhood seems pretty tight with the place. Right when I came in, this guy was waiting for an older barista to finish with customers and gave him a big hug and had a quick chat. There’s a group of like 4 construction workers perched on stools at the table behind me having beers, hehe they look like birds on a wire cuz they’re big and the stools are pretty small.
I sat at a tall table, and tried to get the attention of one guy with a gesture and a “monsieur!” but he pointed me to the grey-haired worker behind the bar. Apparently the tall tables are his domain, so I got my seat settled and he said “bonjour” and I asked for my “café, s’il vous plaît”
It’s Europe of course, so he put a tiny cup of espresso on the bar and I hopped up to get it. In Portugal, Margaret got me into putting sugar in my espresso. I used to never use sugar because it never came out right, always to fakely sweet. Unless Otis made the coffee and put the cream and sugar in for himself – the man’s a genius with coffee. Ah, I miss them. I’d like to be on the porch right now for a breath of the morning air while he has a cigarette, sipping off his hot coffee to warm up from the cold snowy air. It’s only like 9:30am there hehe.
Ah well, I’ve had my time at that life. New experiences await. This is pretty exciting, I’m in a new place with a new language everywhere and new people everywhere! It was starting to get old, knowing someone everywhere I went in Urbana. It kinda hits me sometimes that there really is just French everywhere. I wake up in the morning and I hear girls talking in French. I walk down the street and kids rattle away in French. I walk past a construction site and guys holler at me in French. A lot of people I meet remind me of American friends I’ve had, except this is the French version. It’s the same in a lot of ways, just in a different language hehe.

Ok, back to my coffee. So I’m debating putting sugar in it, but all they gave me was this little brick of it, and the espresso cup is about twice the size of the sugar, so I really don’t want to put the whole thing in. I spent a minute with the little stirring spoon trying to break off some of the brick, but when I almost toppled the whole cup and saucer I decided to stop. I finally realized I should dip the brick in so some would melt away, and when I did that half the brick fell out of the wrapper into the cup. Turns out it was cut in 2 all along, so I got a pretty perfect amount of sugar. Now I’ve been writing so long it’s starting to get cold, ok, no more of this mundane stuff of my thoughts, let’s get to the topic at hand.
The question now is which barista to talk about. The first young guy I tried to hail down, the older bar-worker who gave me the coffee, a more heavyset guy who seems to do dishes and ring people up, or the guy working at the tobacco counter.
The 2 I talked to both seem really nice. I think the younger guy (about my age) is the son of the heavyset dishwasher guy cuz they’re having a conversation now and I can see that next to each other they look identical. I wonder whether the younger guy is in school. Definitely older than high school and he seems really on his shit and knowledgeable at the café, so maybe he just works here full time. Probably not a bad life, he seems pleased. Everyone working here actually seems pretty pleased. They have a great system of working in sync.
The neighborhood really seems to respect them too. I think that’s a difference between the states and here. What would be a “menial labor” type of job in the states can be a life career and not be a bad thing here. At least I’d like it, I did really like being a barista though, and who wouldn’t wanna live in Paris! On top of it I think they get much better government/medical benefits from any job in France.
The dad worker just came out with his coat on and helmet in hand. I think he’s saying bye to the son and probably some other parentey advice. He’s putting his helmet on, I wonder what kind of bike he’s got, it’d be cool to have a moped around here, but probably a bit dangerous. Ok, the sun is starting to set, it’s about 5pm, and I’ve finished my coffee. I think I’ll pay and go now. European coffee prices are great: only 1,20

WAIT A SECOND, I ACTUALLY LIVE HERE?

This last week (I wrote this mostly Sunday)–
Well I’ve spent just about a week in Paris now for real, and I love it! This is the first time in forever that I don’t have any real obligations, since I don’t start school until February. It’s quite unlike my typical life equation (18 hours of class+20 hours of job+club presidency+club vice presidency+friends-sleep=stressed out Lena). So I have plenty of time to get my stuff all organized, figure out my dorm, figure out my neighborhood, and chill with people ☺ After hanging up my travelin shoes, I realized just how temporarily I’d been living. My suitcases were still unpacked, my fridge was empty except for some cheese and crackers, and I was still using my coat for a blanket on top of just a travel sheet.
I have to give a BIG thanks to my mom for making sure I had a set of travel silverware and food for the plane. The food continued to be part of my meals until about Monday. That’s two weeks of relying heavily on cashews, craisins, crackers, apricots, and a bunch of tea bags hehe. When I’m in travel mode I really don’t need much. I hadn’t used real shampoo, conditioner, or a brush since I’d left Margaret, because a bar of soap works decently and is easier to fly with!
At some point that life gets a little trying, so I’ve spent the week making my dorm into a real home. I unpacked Monday, decorated, did some grocery shopping, and lots of wandering around in the days since. I’ve checked out 4 of the grocery stores within a couple blocks of me, which all have their strengths or deals on certain things over the other ones. I wanna start going to the boulangeries, epiceries, and boucheries, etc. soon, but I’ve gotta look up a little more vocab hehe. I got signed up for my classes, filled out some dorm paperwork, got my cell phone working, etc. K I’ll give you some key moments from the last week.

Monday - I met Antonia after school and got to check out “le Catho” – my new school. L’Institut Catholique is in the 6th arrondissement, so I made my way over there and Antonia showed me around. It’s pretty cool, an old style and a bunch of buildings all built up around courtyards. We went for coffee with Jordan and talked about traveling, and Paris and learning French. I can’t wait till I can understand French as well as they can, they seem confident that a month or so down the line I’ll be fine. I do feel like I’ve learned a lot this week already. I guess we’ll see.
Monday night – I tried to plug my extension cord into the converter in a new plug, it exploded, I screamed a bit, and all the lights went out. My room and the one next to me went dead thanks to my American plug hehe, but it was a great excuse to have a conversation with the girl next door. I forget her name, but she’s from the east of France, and I’d just learned the word for electrical socket (prise) earlier that day, so I could sort of explain what happened, and she could explain to the worker guy in better French.

Tuesday I cooked my first real meal – pasta, tomato sauce, cut up fresh tomatoes, and sautéed onions and red peppers, and milk. Mmm ☺ It was a bit haphazard though. I cut up the onions and red peppers and realized I had no oil, so I had to go back out and get some. The pasta was done, but I had no way to strain it. Fortunately there were a couple girls in the kitchen, and one said it was cool if I used her strainer and also her dishsoap afterwards. Ooo best part of the meal though I found the most amazing milk of my life. The company’s like all proud to have only French cows and French processing n stuff, it’s called “j’<3 le lait d'ici" or "I love the milk from here" how cute! and damn good milk. My electricity went out again after I just turned on some light, so I had to go back downstairs to get it fixed.

Wednesday morning – there’d been some misunderstanding when I went down to get my light fixed the night before, so a worker came pounding on my door in the morning to replace what he thought was a broken light. I woke up all confused and answered him in English till I realized where I was and switched to French. It’s times like that it hits you, wait a second I really do live in France now.
Wednesday – I went to a “centre commerciale” with Yoko to buy a blanket. We were just chatting online and she said she was bored, so I said I was gonna go “chercher un couverture” and asked if she wanted to come. But apparently I should have said “trouver,” otherwise it means “do you want to sleep with me?” hehe we had a good laugh about that. So we went to a mall by her dorm, got a cheap quilt for a wonderful 18 euro, and wandered around a few other stores checkin out the goods. Then we went back to the dorm and cracked open a bottle of wine. It was a really good time. I get some good practice with my French hanging out with Yoko. She’s really fun too. It was a bit easier though when Laura came back from class, cuz she could help translate.

Thursday – I found this awesome park by my house. Parc Montsouris was created under Napoleon the 3rd to give Parisians a break from the city. They made parks in all 4 cardinal directions and Montsouris is the southern one. It was an old stone quarry, then when they moved some city cemetery, they put all the extra bodies in the area where montsouris is now. There’s also 2 train lines that go thru the park so it was a bit difficult to build, but they did a great job. It’s huge, there’s a pond, a hill, a waterfall, a lot of lovely grassy and treey areas, a restaurant, a merry-go-round, and a bunch of awesome statues. There’s also a monument to a guy who was killed in WWI by a german bomb in that spot in the park. I haven’t wandered the park completely because I decided to chill on a spot on the hill to write and people-watch. A newly-wedded couple by the pond was taking wedding pictures (aww), there were a bunch of people just going on walks with their dogs, with people, with kids, on their own, there’s a load of different bird types, and there was this great group of boys running around and wrestling on the grass of the hill just below me. They were funny to watch because one boy was videotaping it, and they’d get most ridiculous or dramatic when they knew the camera was on them.

Friday – I went to the Louvre with Antonia and her art class. AWESOME way to go to the louvre. I got to meet and chat with a bunch of students in French, and see the louvre and a bunch of amazing art. But best of all we got all the background info about the artists, the meaning of the art, and the historical time frame in which it was created. I learned a lot more about the rooms as they were as part of the palace than I remember learning before. If you can look some of these up please do, because I didn’t bring my camera when we went, but it’s likely I’ll go back a lot so I’ll probably have pics in the future. It’s just a sampling of the things I really liked or got a lot of notes about.
Apollo Hall – awesome, it used to be decked out with kings in all the important slots, but it was burned in 1661 at the start of the reign of Louis XIV (he was a bit traumatized), so they redid the room. All of the important slots got filled in with artists and architects instead, and the ceiling is decked out to represent the cycle of the sun (in honor of the sun king).
Les esclaves de Michelange, Canova’s Psyche et l’Amour (love this one, we have a magnet on the fridge parents), La victoire de Samotrace (French name for winged victory) – I never realized how rare it was to have a truly Hellenistic piece, since most work you see in the greek style is merely roman copies.
La Salle des Saisons, Thomas Hardy’s La religion et l’heresie, Pierre Puget’s Persée et Andromède, and another one by Puget with a lion attacking this guy, awesome but I forgot the title. Alexandre rencontre Diogène I think also by Puget.
The four corners of the statue from Place de la Victoire – HUGE statues of slaves with differing ages and levels of rebelliousness left on their faces. They represent territories conquered by France I believe: Brandebourg, Espagne, l’Empire, Hollande.
Lastly we went to this room with a bunch of statues that came from Louis XIV’s private palace, Marley. Versailles was too big apparently, so he made a private palace (still huge and impressive), and it was of course destroyed in the revolution, so the statues that survived were moved to Paris. There were 2 at the Place de la Tuileries, and 2 at the Place de la Concorde, but now they’re just copies and the originals are in the Louvre. I believe Coycevox was the artist and the back two were Mercury and Glory, but I don’t remember the other 2. Anywho it was awesome.

Interesting initial observations of paris/Parisians:
- everyone’s frickin stylin. Heels, or awesome shoes, nice clothes and coats and scarves, everything matches. Even the weird items of clothing you see can usually be pulled off well by the person wearing em. They sell awesomely stylish clothes everywhere too, even the cheap places. I don’t know if the clothes stores came first or the style, but its pretty cool. I guess it can get a bit heavy though, it’s hard to feel comfortable if you go out without having put together a well-planned outfit.

- berets and striped shirts – a very stereotypical French style, you do see these items a lot, though rarely together. Berets a lot, but I feel like they’re pretty popular in the states these days too, it’s also winter, so hats in general are a good idea. Stripes aren’t as common as certain circles in the states though I’d say.

- cigarettes – frickin everywhere. They did ban them inside for the most part in France, but most cafes/bars have either a plastic-enclosed porch area with heat lamps, or a smokey room in the basement or something for people to smoke in. You can smoke in the dorm rooms though not in the common areas. Oh, craziest part – every European airport I’ve been in has had either a ventilated room, or a spot to go on the roof or something so people can smoke. They definitely wouldn't allow that at O'hare, major security breach to allow people outside.

- Dog poop on the streets – watch out for that shit, especially when its raining.

- Diversity – Really surprising actually, there’s a great deal of diversity here. And the people of varying races have varying levels of economic standing too, it appears. The bums and the stylish businessmen are all shades. Granted there are issues with immigrants and religion and such in France, the law they wanted about la voile was a big deal last year. But I think there’s a much more divisive socioeconomic and cultural line between the races in the states than here. My first night in town when we went to that bar the Frog, I was having a conversation in french with a couple guys, and the white guy was saying about the black – “see my friend here he’s just French. Not half-african, half-french or anything, just French. It’s so weird in the states how you have to divide people.” Granted I’m in Paris, not the banlieus. The history of racial division in the states is also a lot longer and more bitter than here. There’s pride in the cultural divisions in the states too, since we had a lot of sadness come out of the melting pot idea. I don’t know what to think of it yet, I need some more time here, but it’s definitely interesting.

Paris for Tourists

Last weekend was kind of a continuation of my international travel, so I’ll explain that first before I get to my real Paris life so far, full of small scale adventures. I’ll get to your blog suggestions as well, 2 are hand-written already!

Last weekend –

I met an American (I called him Indiana, but his real name’s Tyler) in Madrid who was coming to Paris the same day as me. So Friday I went to his hostel and chilled on some whiskey in the main room with him and a few new hostel friends. One girl was from Los Angeles, but lives in Aix-en-Provence now learning French, and she decided to take a weekend in Paris. These two American guys live in an apartment across the street, and teach English in Paris, but they come to the hostel to use the internet and hang out with people. And a couple of cool Irish girls, one studies in a town to the northeast of Paris I think? And her friend who’d come to visit for the weekend. They suggested a Chinese place across the street, so we got some sweet noodles for cheap.

I headed home before it got too late, and had a nice chat with a couple Parisians when I changed trains and couldn’t find the right tunnel to the 6. They were looking for it too, and one guy spoke a little English that he couldn’t wait to use on me. I spoke much better French than he spoke English though, at least after my glass of whiskey from earlier. I have a drink and my French is instantly 10x better, its crazy. I’ve either gotta drink a lot more around the dorm, or learn to gain a similar level of confidence in a sober state, in order to make more friends. I should probably lean toward the latter.

So Saturday I took a wander around Paris. I took the train north a ways with the intention of just wandering my way home, but it got really cold and rainy so I ended up just hoppin on the metro again. I did get to check out Les Halles (a really nice underground mall), though, and picked up some hair supplies. That night Tyler n a big group of hostel people wanted to go to a movie, so I tagged along. We saw the new one with Vigo Mortensen in it, really good, but really sad.

Afterwards some of the group went out and found a pub with tvs playing American football. Tyler’s a big colts? fan I think, I don’t know I don’t watch football hehe. I got to talking with a few international Parisians: A really funny German guy who grew up with an Irish friend, so his English had an Irish accent, a nice guy from Boston who’d learned French from a Canadian singer, and a girl from Wyoming who spoke English with a British accent and thought she was the shit. All three of them had been in Paris over a year, and had worked on and off at bars in the neighborhood so they knew a bunch of people around.

Me, Tyler, and these three peaced to a new bar at around 3, since the Wyoming girl (Kat) said the vibe was better. We got to talking with a few older Parisians who were really cool, and I did some translating for the conversation since Tyler doesn’t speak any French. The bar closed at some crazy-late hour again, but before we left Kat introduced me to a big group of other expat friends of hers who were all really nice and pleased to hear I was staying in Paris.

It’s an amazing city, but it’d be a hell of a lot better if the metro ran all night. We left the bar and decided to wait for it to start again. Tyler, me, and one of the older French guys we’d met went to a bar/restaurant/cafe by the Pont Neuf, right on the Seine, and got another round of wine. I don’t remember the French guy’s name, but we didn’t realize initially how bad his English was (he played it off well), so we’d been chattering away and leaving him out. At some point I noticed and started translating as much as I could. Him and Tyler had both been in the military, so they compared the French and American systems. Apparently there were French troops in Iraq before they officially said they wouldn’t be involved, interesting.

Sunrise over the seine, a metro ride home, and some much-needed sleep. Sometime mid-afternoon on Sunday I met up with Tyler again and we went to the Eiffel tower at around sunset. I know I know, it’s touristy, but it is a really great view. It was nice. Walked around a bit, and went home to my new home in Paris! Tyler’s probably either in Amsterdam or Copenhagen now, ah the life of a traveler.

Madrid pt 2

Photos: Sol Plaza and a Picasso piece from the Reina Sofia

The next day it took me a bit longer to get my shit together, but I ate breakfast, got out the door, and found my way to the Reina Sofia again. AMAZING! Different than the Prado, but possibly even cooler. The Reina Sofia is much more modern, and had a wider variety of subjects and ideas I could sympathize with, and less religious stuff than the Prado. I also got to spend a lot more time at the Reina Sofia. I put a whole bunch of pictures on facebook from my visit, so check em out, I even snuck a shot of Guernica!

So this was supposed to be my last real day in Madrid, with a flight to Paris planned for the next day (Thursday) at noon. However, traveling once again can be a pain in the ass, and I got back to the hostel to find an email from vueling saying my flight was cancelled due to airline workers on strike in Paris. I believe I mentioned that in an earlier post. Well I freaked out for a bit realizing I really couldn’t afford a train/bus ticket if this strike went on too long. But the strike wasn’t for sure happening yet, so I figured I shouldn’t worry till the morning.

I went to Puerta del Sol to meet up with a girl named Suzy. My friend Kat from U of I lived in Madrid for high school, so she introduced me (thru facebook) to a friend of hers who was back in Madrid for the holidays and we got together to chill. Suzy’s a blast! We went for tapas (sooo good!) and wandered around a bit. We were trying to meet up with a couple of her friends, but they were being shady, so we went back to my hostel to get my money and see what the Irish girls were up to.

The girls I’d hung out with the night before weren’t around, but we found another cool group playing a card game in the common room. We had a seat and it became a pretty interesting little get-together. Me (American), Suzy (born American/ raised Spanish/ lives in Italy now), an Australian girl, an American guy from Wisconsin, an Irish girl who’d lived in France when she was younger, a Brazilian guy with good English, and an Argentinian guy with little English. The conversation was half English half Spanish; really cool!

Suzy had to go catch the last train out to her part of town at some point, and the rest of us decided to go out to a bar down the block. Somehow I met some more Irish, a couple Italian Australians, and an American guy from Indiana and got to chilling with them (They were mostly at another hostel a block away). The Australians had rented a swanky apartment down the block for a month to take a vacation, so after a while some of us went to their place to chill.

I knew I might have a plane to catch in the morning, so I had to figure out at this point whether or not to go back and catch some sleep down the block at the hostel, and risk sleeping thru, or just stay up, make the plane, and sleep after. A couple people said they were down to stay up and wait for the hostel breakfast, so we did! It was really fun.

I went to the airport in the morning only to find that the strike did indeed go down, but I got a new ticket for the next day (Friday), hoping that it’d be over quickly. I went back to the hostel, changed rooms, slept for quite a while, and got up to wander a bit more. I went to the Reina Sofia (free for students) for a couple hours, and then figured I should see some more of the city. I went to Retiro park, which is really nice! It’s huge, and well designed. There was a great hill with this spiral sidewalk going up, flanked with those roman-looking pine trees. I felt like I was on Mount Olympus by the top. I could also see a bit of a soccer game in another part of the park.

I went back to the hostel when it got dark, and met the girls in my new room. They were from LA, and one girl was named Lena! I considered going out with them, but I knew 3 nights in a row just wasn’t happening, so I took a shower and went back to bed. The next morning I went back to the airport and successfully flew back to Paris, woo hoo!

Ya know, I wrote about how I liked traveling with someone, and I really did. Especially in the beginning, since I’d just moved out of a town where friends were around 24/7 for 3.5 years. New can be scary, so someone around is nice. And Margaret was definitely awesome to travel with, but I really got to like traveling alone as well. I was free to move in and out of groups of people or activities. The 6 Irish girls I’d hung out with were part of a group of like 60 from their college at the hostel, and they weren’t exactly reliant on the group, but they had to kinda let people know where they were, and couldn’t go out to the bar until everyone else did, etc. Within that smaller group of 6 there’s more constraints too, you’ve gotta wait until everyone’s up and showered and ready before you can head out for the day. Me? I could get up and out in minutes if I wanted. I was also one of the only people I talked to who had been to any museums around town. I told the Irish girls I was heading out for the Reina Sofia and they were like “oo how cultured of you!” I would hate to be stuck traveling with someone who doesn’t wanna see the city! Being independent definitely has its benefits.

Madrid pt 1

These 2 pics should have gone in the text somewhere, but hey, technology doesnt always do what it should, so the left is the madrid airport, the right is the almudena cathedral, notice the modern stained glass.

So we finally got on the plane and headed off for Madrid. Shortest flight of my life! We seriously waited in that chair-less, English-less airport (Lisbon) for like 10 times the amount of time we were actually on the plane. Inter-europe travel is great.

Interesting fact worth mentioning – I flew alone for the first time this last summer going to visit my brother in Nicaragua. Going from Chicago to France was only my second flight alone, yet I’m all over the place immediately after. It’s the same basic deal anywhere you go though. Even on a flight from Lisbon to Madrid where no one speaks English or French I can get the gist when they put the seatbelt buckle pieces together and point to the exits hehe.

The Madrid airport is gorgeous! It’s got this cool wavey wooden ceiling (see above photo) with tree-like poles supporting it that change colors down the line. And the organization is genius, it’s all in one building (as far as I could tell), and layered so everything gets a good amount of space and can be reached easily by the next section of the airport. The metro was right downstairs, and I spent a couple minutes with some Chinese kids my age trying to figure out just which ticket to buy before an older Spanish gentleman who spoke English helped me out.

Maybe I should explain why it is I’m in Madrid. First off, it’s awesome. But really, I knew I wanted to visit Margaret in Portugal, and I was going to head straight back to Paris from there. However, the plane company I found that had amazingly cheap flights (Vueling.com) was centered in Spain, so one had to fly to or from a Spanish city. I couldn’t get 2 flights on the same day, so I had to spend a night in Madrid. My brother, Owen, said “cool, Madrid!” and I thought, “why spend one night when I can spend three?” So I found a hostel, moved my second flight back a bit, and tried to find people I could meet up with in Madrid. Some time back my dad worked with a woman named Alicia in Chicago, and she now lives in Madrid. It didn’t work out that I could meet up with her, but when I was planning everything I had a great conversation with her about where to go and what to see. She also mentioned that the Metro was the best city subway she’d ever seen.

That brings us back up to speed, on the way to the hostel, I thought, “wow, Alicia had a point.” The Madrid metro is clean, quick, and easy to follow. I don’t know that it’s the best, but I definitely think all of the European subways would slaughter the CTA in competition.

So I get to the hostel, get my stuff to my room, and get settled for the night. The bunk beds at this hostel were TINY, I’ve never had to so literally crawl into bed. The next day I got up, checked out Alicia’s list of stuff, and headed off to find a museum. I got to the Riena Sofia, but it was closed, so I went to the Palacio Real (royal palace). Gorgeous, and gaudy, and similar to most other royal palaces. I tagged along behind an English-speaking tour group for a bit to hear about a few rooms. One was made entirely out of porcelain! All of the wall decorations of vines and idyllic scenes, etc. was all pieces of baked porcelain put together. Pretty ridiculous. One had a chandelier that looked just like a fountain. There’s one gaudy room for the king’s breakfast, another gaudy room for the king to be dressed in, gilt frames here, velvet wallpaper there, etc. It’s kinda cool to spend a day in a palace worth millions, that once was the center of a world-wide empire, and know I only spent 3 euros because of my student discount, woo hoo!

So after the palace I went to the Almudena cathedral across the street, which was awesome! It was absolutely massive, and had a cool compilation of artwork from different styles and periods of time. Apparently they started plans on the cathedral when the capital was moved from Toledo to Madrid way back in 1561, but they didn't get around to actually coming up with plans for a couple hundred years, then once they started construction, it got put on hold by the Spanish Civil War, so it didn't actually get finished until 1993. The design is old, and meant to replicate the palace just across from it, but the art inside is actually pretty new. After that, I went to check out some of the gardens around the castle, which were still gorgeous even in the rain.

Next I went to a big and popular street called the Gran Via. It’s kinda like the Mag Mile, big beautiful buildings, big street, lots of shopping and malls. I wandered around for a bit, and found my way to the Prado museum. I was trying to finagle my way in with a student discount, but they were more finicky than the other places and wanted the card from the European university, which I don’t have yet. But the lady said it’d be free after 6, so I waited at a café across the street and went back at quarter to.

They’re only open till 8, so I had a brief stint, but man was it AMAZING! They have soo much beautiful artwork there. You can track most of the history of art through that museum. Some classics – El Greco, Velasquez, El Goya

And some surprising ones - 2 about Joanna the Mad, the daughter of Ferdinand and Isabella I think, a queen who was famous for being crazy, a few by Corveggio, Botticelli, Rafael, and Mantegna (a bunch of Italians I didn't expect to see in Spain)

Ooh, but I was most pleased to come across Hieronymous Bosch! The garden of earthly delights is a weird and amazingly cool painting. I saw it once in a dark room in Venice, and that time my mom was through the roof to see it in person. This time I didn’t expect to see it, and it was well-lit in full glory! I spent my last 10 minutes or so just staring in awe, till the bell tolled and we were kicked out. I spent my next 10 minutes running around, avoiding security, trying to find the door I’d come in at, since I’d checked my coat.

I got back to the hostel, took the coldest shower of my life, and went to my room. I met a nice Brazilian guy who was staying in the bunk next to mine. He spoke Portuguese and a little Spanish, and I speak English, French, and a little Spanish. You can guess it was a challenge. He wanted me to join him to wander the street and look for a place to buy food. We went to some bar, and struggled through conversing. It was pretty interesting though. I’d try and say a sentence, then repeat some key words in different accents, or using different, more latin-centered words for the same idea, until finally it would come across. We chilled a bit in the hostel common room till he went to bed.

I started talking to a group of Irish girls sitting next to me in the common room. They went to the University College in Dublin (where my dad went to get his second masters!), and there was a group of like 60 in the hostel. They invited me to go out with them, so I got changed, got a little pre-game boozey and we left the hostel at like 2:30 for this club across town. I had a blast! We danced, we laughed, and I could understand everyone! For the most part… There’s a few colloquial differences in Irish that were interesting to learn. I’ll get into some of these later, but for now let’s just say it was “great craic!” (it was a good time).

The bar got out at like 5 I think, and as we were leaving one kid found out I Irish danced, so he made me dance outside while we were waiting for cabs. It turned out to be a good thing, because we were standing just off from the bulk of the crowd that had just spilled outa the bar. The crowd was pretty loud, and somebody from the apartment above threw a bucket of water on em which I narrowly dodged. Hilarious.