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! :)