La Fin (for now...)

I have been dreading writing this post all week. I will warn you now that it will probably be a long one and it may get sappy, so grab some tissues and get comfortable (those last suggestions were mostly self-directed).

I'm not quite sure how to even describe how much I have treasured and valued my time here--how much and in how many different ways I've grown, all the incredible experiences I've had and all the wonderful people I have met. No amount of blogging could even begin to capture it all, but I feel way luckier than I deserve to have spent the last 11 months in this charming, enchanting, albeit sometimes smelly city (especially in the summer heat...those street scents baking in the sun are less-than-charming).

I came here with two suitcases, minimal French skills, and zero friends. I'm leaving with two (slightly heavier) suitcases, a level of French that is pas mal du tout, if I do say so myself, and a group of warm-hearted adventurous amis that I was fortunate enough to meet here. Some left in May and have already said their goodbyes; others will stay the rest of the summer, and I bid them adieu earlier this evening until we meet again in New York. The hardest goodbyes have been those that may be the real deal. I know in my heart that I will be back here one day--heck last night I was Googling various graduate programs at SciencePo--but a lot can change in a few years and there is no guarantee that I will ever see these people again. Many of these most difficult goodbyes are also to the unlikeliest of friends. It seems silly to shed a tear over parting from the friendly old man who has made you way too many late-night crepes, or the smiling woman from whom you buy your produce, or the people at your corner coffee stand without whom you would have had no chance of surviving your 9 am class (realizing as I write this that all of those are food-based friendships but hey, France loves their culinary culture...). Even those simple everyday interactions have made such an impact on my time here, and more than anything they were the interactions that made me feel like I had really created a life and even a home for myself here. There's something to be said for having someone wave at you as you walk down the street. In a big, foreign city, having a familiar face who recognizes you as another familiar face makes it hard to feel lonely, even when you are thousands of miles from home.

Speaking of home, my idea of what that word means has changed greatly since my time here. Home is not necessarily where you come from or where you live. Home is something you can make for yourself, wherever you are. As happy as I am that I have spent my first year of college in Paris, and as excited as I am for my upcoming years in New York and Buenos Aires, I realize that I may have signed myself up for a rather nomadic lifestyle. When I said I felt as if I had created somewhat of a home for myself here, I didn't mention the trade-off. When I went back to the States for Christmas break, don't get me wrong, I was thrilled to be there with my family, friends and loved ones, but I came to the rather unsettling realization that my "real" home no longer felt the same. That's to say, it didn't feel exactly like home. It's hard to express, but I feel like there won't be a place that feels precisely like home for me for a long time. I think that anytime we go somewhere and become invested and comfortable in that place, we leave a part of us there--even when we leave--and that might be a part of us that we are never able to get back. So maybe I'll be leaving pieces of myself scattered all around these next few years, but I think that's a small price to pay for the invaluable, indescribable experiences of traveling and immersing yourself in something unfamilar. The person I am in Paris is not the same person I was for 18 years in Saint Louis, nor is it the same person I will be in New York, but they are all versions of me that will contribute to the person I hope to become. Like various editions of the iPhone, if you will. I know that all the challenges of going new places and ultimately moving on will only force me to keep learning more about myself and the world around me. I know it sounds cheesy, but I entirely believe that it's true.

A couple of weeks ago I said goodbye to Alice, Susan, and Eleonore, my three little French girls who have taught me more than they will ever know. Alice cried (which made me cry). Eleonore was confused and seemed to believe I was going on vacation and would soon return, despite my multiple explanations that I was going back to America, where I come from. Susan pragmatically decided that it was pas grave that I was leaving because even if I stayed she would be moving to Italy with her family so I wouldn't be babysitting her anymore anyways. She's only 5, but she was right. Life goes on, and I just hope that those three stay as open and carefree as they are now, and I hope they remember me if I visit them when I make it back to France.

Today I decided to revisit my favorite places that sort of sum up Paris for me. I spend the morning reading in Shakespeare and Co., had a falafel for lunch on the Rue des Rosiers, then wandered around Père Lachaise cemetery for a bit. Tonight I had my last supper at Chez Justine with some friends. We've gotten pretty close with the guys who work there--it is right next door after all--and when I told them I was leaving I think it took them a little off guard, which made me feel bad about leaving but also a little glad to see that our relationship is not just one-sided. One of them noticed that I was a bit down, so he pulled me aside and gave me some advice. He told me that he had spent a lot of time abroad in various cities, and he was always scared and sad about the change when he left, but he said that once he moved forward he never regretted it. I'm really taking that to heart as I say goodbye to Paris tonight. I also bought my last crepe (trop triste), and although I offered multiple times, my payment was met with staunch refusal, and I must say it was the best crepe I've indulged in during my time here. All in all I'd say my last hours here have been well spent saying farewells and taking in everything I love about this city to bring home with me in my heart.

I don't want to end the chronicles of my Parisian adventures on a melancholy note, so now I'll share with you my Bastille Day experience. Ironically, Bastille Day is an American name for a French holiday. Nobody here refers to July 14 as "Bastille Day," but rather as la Fête Nationale, which celebrates the fall of the Bastille prison where prisoners were held during the French Revolution. NYU commemorated the beginning of the French Republic with a boat cruise on the Seine where we were able to have a front row seat to the fireworks set off from the Eiffel Tower.

Place de la Bastille today...no prison in sight! Though there is a wonderful outdoor market every Sunday...

Me and Matty, my fellow RA!

 The boat next to us was full of French Revolution re-enactors, including Marie Antoinette herself!

Pretty magnificent.

So I guess this is where my Parisian adventure ends for now. I'm feeling a messy and confusing mix of emotions, but without a doubt I'm super excited to see everyone back in Saint Louis and give REAL hugs rather than sending you bisous through a computer. Thanks everyone for reading and for supporting me all the way from the good ol' U.S. of A! À très bientôt :)

Another American in Paris

Two weeks ago for my 19th birthday I got the best gift ever--a visit from my wonderful mama!

I was so excited to have her here with me to show her what I've been up to for the last 10 months. It's one thing to write and send pictures, but nothing compares to being able to see it for yourself! She got here on June 15, and I think by the time she left 10 days later she had a pretty good understanding of why I love it so much here.

I must say I was quite impressed with her motivation--she saw as much of Paris in a week and a half as I did in probably my first 6 weeks here. I ended up being much busier than I expected with work and babysitting, but she had a ball going out and exploring on her own and we were able to at least catch up over dinner each night even when I wasn't able to accompany her on her adventures during the day.

From the second I saw her smiling face at the airport, I knew it was going to be a great visit! Her flight was delayed, so I was standing with my face turned down toward my freebie metro newspaper when she snuck up and surprised me. I wasn't surprised to hear that she had already made a new friend even before the plane touched down and snagged an invite to said friend's home in Montpelier in the south of France. Unfortunately, we did not make it down for a visit, but just the offer in itself was so kind and immediately dispelled the snobby French stereotype, which as I have claimed multiple times is simply not true.

Jet lag be darned, we dropped off her suitcases at my apartment and immediately went out exploring. My mother quickly put my worries about wearing her out to rest. I may have developed night-owl tendencies that are not so conducive to her typical schedule back home, but after trekking about 8 miles all over Paris from Notre Dame to the Eiffel Tower and everywhere in between, I think I was in worse shape than she was! We enjoyed our first French meal at a cafe not far from home and grabbed dinner at another of my favorite places just around the corner. I was happy to hear that the French cuisine did not disappoint.

First dinner in Paris!

I got to introduce my mom to the guys have provided me with many a mid-morning pick-me-up from the little coffee stand right by school--they also offered me a job, so if I end up looking for work here in the future it looks like I'm set. Unfortunately my friendly crepe stand man was on vacation so she didn't get to meet him, but I gave him her regards last week when he returned from Turkey. From him I got another offer for an opportunity to return to France...marry his son! Ha. Keeping my options open for the moment.

One day I decided to mix work and play and I brought my mom with me to babysit. The girls loved her--no surprise there--and for the rest of the week they asked me if I could bring my her again. I think having her there cleared up a lot of confusion because all year they've been asking me if I have parents, and despite my explanations that my family lived in America even though I was here, I don't think they believed me. We played school, and Susan insisted on conducting her classroom in French. I tried my best to whisper translations of the do's and don'ts of the school, but I got in trouble because of the no-talking policy. When my mom finally raised her hand to say that she felt at a slight disadvantage seeing as she did not speak French, we both lost our cool a bit and collapsed in laughter. We were met with a stern shush and a very harsh 5-year-old glare. And all of this after 20 minutes of arranging stuffed-animal students in their "desks!"

On the day of my actual birthday I was pretty busy since we had students from a second program arriving and I had to help move them in, but I was able to spend the evening with my mom and my good friend Annie who had returned to Paris from her European travels that began after we finished with our classes for the year. We got drinks at Chez Justine, one of my favorite and most-frequented places here!

So happy she got to join me as I celebrated my 19th!

And all the better having Annie there with us! They had been hearing about each other all year...

The next day was a celebration called the Fete de la Music where the streets basically turn into a giant outdoor party with various concerts and performances in parks, main squares, and even just on random street corners. We had a nice dinner and enjoyed some old-school 70's music (which is oddly trendy in Paris right now) before my mom bid me adieu so I could go meet up with some friends, but not before a charming young man could offer to take our picture then proceed to persistently ask for my phone number. Hoping to get my mom on his side, he told me in French to tell her she was pretty and he could see where I got my looks. While I agree that my dear mother is gorgeous, we were too smart for his smooth talking and sent him on his way, but at least he took some decent pictures!

On the Canal Saint-Martin

Random saxophone player on a balcony because why not? It is the Fete de la Music after all!

All of Paris turned out on a Sunday night...this was only the beginning :)

And of course, I couldn't send my mom back the U.S. before treating her to a Parisian picnic, so on her last day here we sat by the Seine on the Île de la Cité and enjoyed a dinner of baguette, cheese, wine, and grapes before heading up to Montmarte to check out Sacrè Coeur.

Moulin Rouge in Montmartre

And of course the Amelie cafe!

So happy ma mère was able to make it over to visit me, and even happier that I'll be seeing her chez nous in one week! Bisous à tout le monde et à bientot! (Sorry that was a lot of franglais..) Hugs to everyone and see you SOON! :)

Summer in Paris

Oh how naive I was to think that without classes I would be swimming in free time... granted, I love being busy, and I would much rather be planning an outing with the summer students than sitting in a classroom myself (group picnic in the Jardin du Luxembourg, anyone? It's a tough job, but someone's gotta do it.) Between working with NYU, babysitting, and spending time with the friends I still have left in Paris, I feel like I've struck a pretty good balance between work and play, something I often have trouble with. Mondays are generally completely open for me to run errands and take some me time; Tuesdays, Thursdays and Fridays are with les petites, and Wednesdays I work at NYU in the reception office. Sprinkled in there is one cultural activity a week (meaning I accompany a group of students to a museum visit, opera, or play sponsored by NYU) and one RA planned activity that we get to choose each week. This week I saw a play about the life of Salvador Dali and on Sunday I'm taking a group to go up in the dome of Sacrè Coeur and get ice cream!

Speaking of friends...Shai came back for a few days after her month of travel in Italy! :)

Babysitting has been great lately--the weather has been superb so we've been going to the park almost every day. When we're at home, they like to do my hair and have me draw them princesses for them to color. As I said, it's been great...mostly. There was, however, the yogurt incident. On Thursday I stayed at Susan's house until midnight because her dad had a gallery opening--I'm still in awe of his cool artist lifestyle. She was great; we played cache-cache (hide and seek), after that was pretend school where of course she was the teacher, and then I made her some pasta for dinner. I was feeling pretty good about my babysitting abilities until dessert came. She had some chocolate, I had some chocolate, and I even got her to speak some English! But then she headed toward the fridge again and I had to put my foot down. She reached for a vanilla yogurt, and when I told her she wasn't allowed to have two desserts, she gave me the meanest stare I have ever received from a 5-year-old. I gave my best, strictest stare back, and after a few moments of our face-off, she threw the yogurt on the ground where it exploded all over the kitchen. I'm not so good at asserting authority, but her little temper tantrum made me pretty frustrated so I sent her to her room where the alligator tears began flowing immediately. I cleaned up the mess and sat calmly in the kitchen reading a magazine until little by little I heard the sobs beginning to fade. I waited for her to sidle repentantly back into the kitchen, but when she hadn't appeared after 10 minutes I decided to be the bigger person (she's 5 after all) and go check on her. Here is where I started to feel a little bad...the poor thing was sprawled face down on her bed, shoes still on, fast asleep. I guess the yogurt outburst can be blamed on extreme fatigue. I took off her shoes, pulled the blanket over her, and left her in peace. The next day when I picked her up at school, she ran over and gave me a giant hug, so I guess I'm forgiven :)

One of many concerts I get to enjoy.

On Saturday I went on a day trip with NYU to Auvers sur Oise where Vincent Van Gogh spent the last months of his life living and painting. It was a gorgeous day to spend in the countryside--Paris can get a bit stuffy when it's hot--and it was also a great opportunity to get to know a couple of my fellow RA's better. We took a walking tour of the village, had lunch at the museum cafe then visited the museum itself, and after that we had several hours of free time to wander as we pleased. We promptly found a sunny patch of grass and spent a lovely afternoon soaking up some sun.

Where Van Gogh spent his last days

Not hard to see why he would want to paint here!

Because what's a French town without a chateau?

Saturday evening I was invited to go watch rugby at the Eiffel Tower. When I read the text message my friend had sent me, I assumed he meant he had friends who would be playing a pick up game on the Champs de Mars and we would just hang out and watch them. That is evidence of how much I follow rugby...meaning I don't follow rugby. Saturday was the final match of the national championship in France, and Paris was playing against Clermont, a team from the north of France. There were two giant screens set up with a big stage in the middle, and the entire plaza was PACKED with people shoulder to shoulder sporting their team's colors. After a quick overview of the rules of the game, I actually started to get pretty into it. After every play there was an outcry of cheers and boos, and I quickly started adding my own (on the side of Paris Stade Francais of course) Paris ended up winning the match, and as the majority of the people there were fans--duh, we're in Paris!--the Champs de Mars erupted into jumping and dancing and hollering. A band suddenly appeared on the previously-empty stage, and the celebration began. It was a far cry from the amateur rugby experience I had been expecting, but definitely one of the best memories I will take home with me from this summer!

Sunday was another beautiful day, and I took a group of students to Montmarte to go up in the dome of Sacre Coeur. I've been inside Sacre Coeur several times this year, but I didn't even know it was possible to go up to the top until about a month ago when a friend took his visiting mother there, The view was awesome--a 360 panorama over all of Paris! We climbed 300 steps to get there, but that just means we really earned the ice cream we treated ourselves to afterwards. The other RA who accompanied me happens to give walking tours of Montmarte in his free time, so he walked us around the village and shared some little anecdotes I had never heard before. I love discovering all the quirky histories of Paris. I don't want to bore you, but he told us one I found particularly interesting about a restaurant called La Mere Catherine. Apparently in the 1800's there was a group of Russian soldiers dining there, and they were not supposed to drink alcohol as they were on duty. However, being Russian, they had to have a bit of vodka with their dinner, so they ordered discreetly and as not to get caught, they frantically asked the wait staff to bring it "bistra! bistra!" which is the Russian word for quickly. Thus, the etymology of the French bistro. It may or may not be completely true, but either way it's pretty cool, huh?

View from the dome

Monday I woke up bright and early to head to the airport to find my mama!!! I'm loving having her here with me, and I think it's safe to say she's enjoying her time here as well. I'll save our adventures for another post, because she's here until June 24th so I'm sure there is much more to come with her. In the meantime, I'm having a blast showing her what I've been up to these last several months and catching up on some much needed mother-daughter time :) A bientot!

Spring Break (in review)

Boy oh boy do I have some catching up to do!

Coming back from spring break to buckle down to finals was challenging, to say the least, but I made it through and now I'm ready for a few months to catch my breath and rest up before tackling New York! That being said, I'm happy to share that even though my classes are finished, my time in Paris does not have to come to an end quite so soon. I'm working with NYU as an RA for the summer in Paris program until July 18. Its possible that my summer won't be quite as restful as previously implied, but I'm so grateful that I have a couple more months to spend in this magnificent city. Outside of work and babysitting I'm hoping to have time to revisit my favorite places a few more times and discover some new ones, and I'm also looking forward to having my mom come visit in a couple weeks! Most of my friends from this year went back home for the summer, but don't worry, I won't be lonely--my crepe-making friends were very happy to learn I'll be sticking around for a bit. In all seriousness though, I have a few friends who will be in Paris for most of the summer as well, and I'm also meeting lots of new students through the summer program.

But now back to the good stuff--spring break! We had two weeks off and I spent them traveling with my friend Annie, who will in fact be my roommate next year. Our trial run of living together was a grand success, if I do say so myself, involving lots of photos, a few sunburns, some pretty train scenery, and of course numerous culinary adventures. We spent the first half of our break in Italy. Our trip started with a slight hiccup when we got on the bus that would take us to Paris Beauvais Airport and Annie turned to me and asked if I had my passport. It was 6 am and I had left my apartment with no caffeine in my system, so it was a valid question as I was still half asleep. Maybe even 75%. However, I proudly held up my passport that I remembered to bring as the responsible young adult that I am. At that exact moment I also realized that I did not have my wallet. And my wallet contained my phone. And my keys. My phone was stolen in March, and I had just gotten a new one literally two weeks earlier, so it was a rather tragic episode of deja vu. We hopped off the bus, called the driver of the taxi we had taken, and he graciously sped back to return my wallet that I had left in the backseat--keys and phone included. Thankfully, that speedbump did not set the tone for the rest of our trip, and other than my sleep-induced forgetfulness, everything else went off without a hitch!

We arrived in Pisa and did a bit of wandering before sitting down to our first Italian lunch. I will take this opportunity to say that for a week my diet consisted of pizza, pasta, and gelato, and I don't think I've ever been happier. Pizza and pasta are pretty hard to mess up in themselves, but Italians really know what they're doing over there. We only spent one night in Pisa before taking a train to Rome. I now understand where my friend Ryan Bedell's love for that city comes from. It was incredible! The sights, the history, the people--we were there for three days, which was not nearly long enough for my liking, but some of the highlights were definitely seeing the Coliseum and Sistine Chapel. We also made friends with a waiter who taught us to say cheers in Italian and insisted we stay after we paid our check for some limoncello and chocolate covered strawberries on the house. In hindsight I'm fairly certain he was just trying to stall us until he got off work at 11 because he then invited us to go get drinks with his friends who "love Americans and speaking English." We declined as it was our last night and we had a train to catch in the morning, but nonetheless he was very kind and gave me a rose as a parting gift. And people say the French are the romantics...

They should really get around to fixing that...

                                      

A (t)rainy day in Pisa.

St. Peter's Basicila in Rome

Coliseum selfie! When in Rome, right?

Roman Forum

Spanish Steps

An illicit Sistine Chapel photo. Don't tell on me, please.

From Rome we went to spend a night in Siena. It was quaint and charming with stunning views of the Tuscan countryside. Every winding street looked like something you would see on a postcard. Actually, it is something you would see on a postcard. They were selling them everywhere. Siena was more of a challenge than Rome as we did not find many people who spoke English, but despite the language barrier people were so welcoming and helpful. We got by at dinner in a mangled mess of French, Italian, and English, though I'm not quite sure we ever cleared up the fact that Annie and I were two friends from America. For some reason the owner of the osteria we ate at seemed convinced that we were sisters from Germany. We kind of decided to just go with it.

After Siena we headed to Florence for another three days. One of my professors had lived in Florence for some time, so I had an email from him with extensive restaurant and museum recommendations. Florence was incredibly beautiful. It's a very walkable city, and the architecture everywhere is straight out of the Renaissance. We definitely earned all the gelato we ate there with all the stairs we walked up! The view from the Duomo was more than worth it, though. We also saw the Medici Palace, the Galleria de l'Accademia, and there was pretty much a beautiful old church on every corner. The other highlight of Florence was the woman we stayed with. She was an artist named Liana and she made us feel so at home; she invited us out to a concert with her and her friends, gave us some insider restaurant tips, and insisted on driving us to the train station when the time came for us to leave. She also had a dog, Loren, who took a bit longer to warm up to us, but by the end of our stay we were pals.

The view from our (Liana's) balcony.

Made it to the top!

Medici Palace

From Italy, we hopped on a plane to Morocco. In Marrakech we put on our bargaining faces for the souks (markets) and traded in all our carbs and gelato for mint tea and tagines. We spent five days in Marrakech--this is where the sunburns happened--and it was an all-around incredible experience. The first time I heard the call to prayer being blared from speakers at the mosques all around was so surreal. I obviously understood nothing, but the Arabic words being sung were so beautiful and it was fascinating to see people around us stop what they were doing to pray then and there.

Our home for the week.

Breakfast and sunbathing (sunburning) nook.

Moroccan sunset

We hired a guide one day, and he took us to see the Koranic School, the Bahia Palace (Bahia means favorite--it was named after the Sheik's favorite wife) and the Jardin Majorelle where Yves Sant Laurent is buried. We also took a day excursion to see the Ouzoud Waterfalls, which was probably the most beautiful place I have been in my life. There were a couple other NYU kids who happened to be staying in Marrakech at the same time as us, so we also spent a couple days trying to conquer the markets and just generally exploring with them.

Koranic School

Bahia Palace

Jardin Majorelle

Hiking to the falls

We jumped from there and swam! 

Marrakech was overwhelming for a number of reasons, but not in a bad way. Walking around was definitely a sensory overload. People were constantly yelling out deals on their goods for sale--piles of fragrant spices, oils and lotions, bright pashmina scarfs and handcrafted ceramics. We had to dodge motorcycles, bikes, carts piled with food, donkeys (yes really, donkeys). French was widely spoken, but we heard a blur of English, Arabic, French, and the local language Berber. Everywhere we could smell couscous and tagines being prepared, and we saw women dressed in everything from miniskirts to jeans to full burkas. It's very hard to describe exactly what it felt like to be there, but it was just such an interesting blend of cultures and traditions versus modernity.

My bank account might still be a bit sore at me, but all in all spring break was an amazing opportunity to get out of my comfort zone--it's funny realizing how much Paris has become so familiar to me--and experience some amazing places and people with my future roomie! I can't wait to see what the rest of the summer has in store. Lots of love and big hugs to everyone back home. Thanks for reading!