Very quick update, since I have so many papers to write.
1) Went to London (I'll write more on that later)
2) Also went to Edinburgh (Ditto)
3) FINALLY received my student loan for realsies.
I can now stop eating pasta every night. I dont even know what I'll do with myself. Well, I'm going to buy the biggest tub of Nutella and go to town.
Tuesday, November 6, 2012
Friday, October 19, 2012
Some Thoughts After 50 Days in France
Day 50 in Paris
It would be dishonest of me to say that I have been thoroughly enjoying my time in Paris so far. It has been hard re-adjusting to student life, losing my independence, and losing my free time. In the back of my head I knew that these things were things that I would have to deal with, but I'm surprised at how much it's affecting me. I suspect this will pass, but thinking about the differences in the way I feel about being in France for a year between this time around and my year as an exchange student has had me thinking about how I actually think about France.
I still love France, its respect for tradition, for supporting culture and the arts, the slower pace of life, the food and wine, etc. But its becoming increasingly obvious to me that I could not live here for any extended period of time.
I think I mentioned my amazement how nothing has changed in Paris since I last left. That awe has turned to frustration. Not only has nothing physically changed, nothing internally has changed. To me, it's as if the world kept on moving and France and Paris has been stuck. In my eyes, respect for tradition has become a stubbornness to innovate. How can an entire city (or even country) have such poor internet service, such arcane processes for doing the simplest things like getting a monthly metro pass, signing up for a phone plan, etc.? This stubbornness is also expressed in a complete lack of academic creativity. Students are afraid to test the limits, to try new arguments, or to even write down anything that hasn't already been previously dictated by the professor. This is something I had experience before, but the extent of it is only now hitting me, which I suppose is my own fault.
A slower pace of life has become an excuse for why everything, banks, student registrar offices, government functions, etc. take so long to process. I'm fairly sure that in any other developed country, not responding to emails or phone calls in a professional setting is unacceptable, and yet, it's happened more than several times since I've been in France. I'm not just talking about not responding in 2 or even 3 days, which would be U.S. standards, but simply not responding at all. It's mind-blowing. As my Aussie friend found out after a frustrating experience in Orange Telecom, you can all chalk it up to the fact that everything is just as it is (meaning incredibly illogical and frustrating) "parce que nous sommes en France," because, we are in France. It's not a valid excuse, but the fact that someone would actually give you that as an explanation, just makes the situation so much clearer.
Needless to say, I am very much looking forward to London next year. The native anglophone students in my program (all three of us), have started a sort of informal anglophone support group. I don't hate Paris. Everyone in my program and the friends I've made so far, both French and non-French are terrific, intelligent, and kind. And even the French kids seem to know how frustrating their own country is. So maybe there is hope for the future. But for now, as much as it would have pained the 20-year old in me to say, this city makes me more proud to be an American than I would have ever been in New York.
It would be dishonest of me to say that I have been thoroughly enjoying my time in Paris so far. It has been hard re-adjusting to student life, losing my independence, and losing my free time. In the back of my head I knew that these things were things that I would have to deal with, but I'm surprised at how much it's affecting me. I suspect this will pass, but thinking about the differences in the way I feel about being in France for a year between this time around and my year as an exchange student has had me thinking about how I actually think about France.
I still love France, its respect for tradition, for supporting culture and the arts, the slower pace of life, the food and wine, etc. But its becoming increasingly obvious to me that I could not live here for any extended period of time.
I think I mentioned my amazement how nothing has changed in Paris since I last left. That awe has turned to frustration. Not only has nothing physically changed, nothing internally has changed. To me, it's as if the world kept on moving and France and Paris has been stuck. In my eyes, respect for tradition has become a stubbornness to innovate. How can an entire city (or even country) have such poor internet service, such arcane processes for doing the simplest things like getting a monthly metro pass, signing up for a phone plan, etc.? This stubbornness is also expressed in a complete lack of academic creativity. Students are afraid to test the limits, to try new arguments, or to even write down anything that hasn't already been previously dictated by the professor. This is something I had experience before, but the extent of it is only now hitting me, which I suppose is my own fault.
A slower pace of life has become an excuse for why everything, banks, student registrar offices, government functions, etc. take so long to process. I'm fairly sure that in any other developed country, not responding to emails or phone calls in a professional setting is unacceptable, and yet, it's happened more than several times since I've been in France. I'm not just talking about not responding in 2 or even 3 days, which would be U.S. standards, but simply not responding at all. It's mind-blowing. As my Aussie friend found out after a frustrating experience in Orange Telecom, you can all chalk it up to the fact that everything is just as it is (meaning incredibly illogical and frustrating) "parce que nous sommes en France," because, we are in France. It's not a valid excuse, but the fact that someone would actually give you that as an explanation, just makes the situation so much clearer.
Needless to say, I am very much looking forward to London next year. The native anglophone students in my program (all three of us), have started a sort of informal anglophone support group. I don't hate Paris. Everyone in my program and the friends I've made so far, both French and non-French are terrific, intelligent, and kind. And even the French kids seem to know how frustrating their own country is. So maybe there is hope for the future. But for now, as much as it would have pained the 20-year old in me to say, this city makes me more proud to be an American than I would have ever been in New York.
Tuesday, October 9, 2012
Sunday, October 7, 2012
Nuit Blanche
Day 40 in Paris
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Still no word about the student loan disbursement other than its somewhere between the U.S. and France. In the meantime, I spent a total of 5 euros on groceries this week: a kilo of rice, a loaf of bread, eggs, sausages, and a liter of milk. Does France have foodstamps? Cause I think I need them.
But anyway, Nuit Blanche was last night. Paris' all-night art exhibition festival. Following tradition I packed a flask of whiskey in my jacket and hit the streets with some friends. This year had a lot of light installations and musical performances.
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Also: Bubbles at the National Archives to an indie soundtrack. I'm pretty sure I heard a Sufjan Stevens song.
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Needless to say it was an enjoyable night, but at the end--well, when I was too tired to go on--I decided it'd be easier to bike home than to wait for the night bus. So I took out a Velib, Paris' rent-a-bike system and made my way home, unsteadily (thank you, flask of whiskey). Also, what I didn't realize was exactly how steep the incline is up to my apartment. I live in the 19th, next to the Parc des Buttes Chaumont, buttes having the same meaning in English as in French. It's one of the many hills in Paris and while the view is nice, biking is apparently as I learned, a challenge. Can't say I'd do it again, but we'll see.
Tuesday, October 2, 2012
Being 26 in Paris (When Did I Get So Old?)
Day 33 in Paris
I often joke about how old I am, or feel: an affinity for watching history documentaries, warm beverages, wool clothing, drinking campari. But having been in Paris now for over a month, I realize now that I am actually old--at least in the eyes of the French.
As I mentioned in my previous post, France has a lot of support for students. However, as I am finding out, most of it only students under a certain age. The young adult age bracket is 18-25, similar I suppose to the United States. The difference being that there are actually perks to being in this age bracket in France. These perks include: free museum/exhibition tickets, discounted plane and rail tickets, special bank accounts, etc. But being 26 now, I don't qualify for any of those things. I barely qualified for the discounted Metro pass. The only reason I qualified was because of a technically that states that the holder must be under the age of 26 on September 1, 2012, which it turned out I was by a couple of days.
Aside from officially being too old. I am even more old in relative terms to the people I'm surrounded with at school. My master's programme is fairly young, given that its about 80% French. All the French kids come directly from finishing their undergrad studies and as a result, they're all five or even six years younger than I am. When I found out that one of them was still twenty I nearly spit out my Cote du Rhone. In the States she wouldn't even be allowed to have Cote du Rhone at all.
I often joke about how old I am, or feel: an affinity for watching history documentaries, warm beverages, wool clothing, drinking campari. But having been in Paris now for over a month, I realize now that I am actually old--at least in the eyes of the French.
As I mentioned in my previous post, France has a lot of support for students. However, as I am finding out, most of it only students under a certain age. The young adult age bracket is 18-25, similar I suppose to the United States. The difference being that there are actually perks to being in this age bracket in France. These perks include: free museum/exhibition tickets, discounted plane and rail tickets, special bank accounts, etc. But being 26 now, I don't qualify for any of those things. I barely qualified for the discounted Metro pass. The only reason I qualified was because of a technically that states that the holder must be under the age of 26 on September 1, 2012, which it turned out I was by a couple of days.
Aside from officially being too old. I am even more old in relative terms to the people I'm surrounded with at school. My master's programme is fairly young, given that its about 80% French. All the French kids come directly from finishing their undergrad studies and as a result, they're all five or even six years younger than I am. When I found out that one of them was still twenty I nearly spit out my Cote du Rhone. In the States she wouldn't even be allowed to have Cote du Rhone at all.
Saturday, September 22, 2012
CROUS!
Day 24 in Paris
Due to some unforeseen slowness on the part of my school's administration, my student loan has yet to be disbursed. Well, in truth, I did foresee it. I was just hoping against all hope that all the stereotypes about seemingly lackadaisical, glacially slow French office workers was false. But alas, personal experience has done nothing but further provide evidence to this reputation.
So, that being said, I've been quite low on funds lately. At school there are two on-site student canteens, or rather, food stands, that sell subsidized meals to students. And by meals I mean baguette sandwiches: jambon beurre, mixte (ham and cheese), poulet-crudité , jambon-crudité, tuna-crudité. If you're feeling particularly flush with centimes, you can spring for a whole formule: sandwich, yogurt, and drink. All for 3,70 EUR. Needless to say, I think in the past three weeks I've had quite enough subsidized bread and sliced ham.
Just when I had resigned myself to forever eating carbs and butter for lunch (which surprisingly you can get sick of), or being doomed to pack my lunch (the sandwiches I make at home are even sadder), my fellow American--the only other one in my Masters program--reminded me of the university student restaurant a couple blocks away from school. In Paris, there are no "campus" universities and university students from all different kinds of schools are instead served by a nationwide system of services called CROUS (Centre régional des œuvres universitaires et scolaires). This includes, university dorms (Cité Universitaire), university restaurants, and cultural programming. All of which is generously subsidized by the State.
I perked up at the idea of hot food. We walked to the restaurant and joined the line up to the dining room. It was fairly impressive. The space was newly renovated (or it appeared so, but then again this is relative to the rest of Paris), and the food. Oh, the food. It was varied, pretty healthy, and so cheap. Basically, you get get three courses for 3,10 EUR. So in awe I was at the sight that when it came to my turn to order I couldn't even think straight and just said whatever was in front of me, which happened to be the spaghetti carbonara. Though, in hindsight, I would have prefered the feuilleté (savory puff pastry pie) and ratatouille. Or maybe the rice and chicken curry.
Granted, it's not the best food. But it's tasty enough, on par with dining hall food from BC (if not better, depending on the dining hall), and again, you just can't beat the price. I even saw professors and library staff eating there, so really, no one can resist.
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| Spaghetti carbonara, seafood terrine, and custard pudding. Cost: 3,10 EUR. That's only 0,15 euros more than that sad frozen bagel. |
Due to some unforeseen slowness on the part of my school's administration, my student loan has yet to be disbursed. Well, in truth, I did foresee it. I was just hoping against all hope that all the stereotypes about seemingly lackadaisical, glacially slow French office workers was false. But alas, personal experience has done nothing but further provide evidence to this reputation.
So, that being said, I've been quite low on funds lately. At school there are two on-site student canteens, or rather, food stands, that sell subsidized meals to students. And by meals I mean baguette sandwiches: jambon beurre, mixte (ham and cheese), poulet-crudité , jambon-crudité, tuna-crudité. If you're feeling particularly flush with centimes, you can spring for a whole formule: sandwich, yogurt, and drink. All for 3,70 EUR. Needless to say, I think in the past three weeks I've had quite enough subsidized bread and sliced ham.
Just when I had resigned myself to forever eating carbs and butter for lunch (which surprisingly you can get sick of), or being doomed to pack my lunch (the sandwiches I make at home are even sadder), my fellow American--the only other one in my Masters program--reminded me of the university student restaurant a couple blocks away from school. In Paris, there are no "campus" universities and university students from all different kinds of schools are instead served by a nationwide system of services called CROUS (Centre régional des œuvres universitaires et scolaires). This includes, university dorms (Cité Universitaire), university restaurants, and cultural programming. All of which is generously subsidized by the State.
I perked up at the idea of hot food. We walked to the restaurant and joined the line up to the dining room. It was fairly impressive. The space was newly renovated (or it appeared so, but then again this is relative to the rest of Paris), and the food. Oh, the food. It was varied, pretty healthy, and so cheap. Basically, you get get three courses for 3,10 EUR. So in awe I was at the sight that when it came to my turn to order I couldn't even think straight and just said whatever was in front of me, which happened to be the spaghetti carbonara. Though, in hindsight, I would have prefered the feuilleté (savory puff pastry pie) and ratatouille. Or maybe the rice and chicken curry.
Granted, it's not the best food. But it's tasty enough, on par with dining hall food from BC (if not better, depending on the dining hall), and again, you just can't beat the price. I even saw professors and library staff eating there, so really, no one can resist.
Thursday, September 13, 2012
Cravings Vol. 1
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Picard is the French frozen food supermaket. Everyone here loves it. We in the U.S. have an aversion to frozen foods as something unhealthy, down-market, and processed. Not so in France. However, I'll be damned before I eat a frozen, pre-schmeared, poppy seed bagel with lox that I had to heat up in my Cold War-era oven. Things are not yet that bad.
But, for now, it's off to bed to dream of fresh bagels, iced coffee, and Mexican food.
Crying in Public
Day 14 in Paris
It's been two weeks since I've arrived in Paris. And there's one thing that I forget sets Paris apart from other cities I've been to. Women crying in public. Women crying in parks, on benches along the street, on the metro, waiting for the metro, outside metro stations. Just women in tears everywhere. By my count I've seen 9 women crying in public, and only one was a tourist. And it's not even gray, gray, November yet.
It's not that Paris is an emotional city. It's a passionate city, that is for sure. But in many respects it's much like New York. When you leave your apartment you put on your game face. You wipe any sign of emotion from your face--anything that could be construed as a weakness--and you go and brave the elements, the people, the chaos, and public transport. For the most part, it's stoic faces all around. Which is why when you do see a teary-eyed face among the crowd it's even more jarring than it should be.
It's been two weeks since I've arrived in Paris. And there's one thing that I forget sets Paris apart from other cities I've been to. Women crying in public. Women crying in parks, on benches along the street, on the metro, waiting for the metro, outside metro stations. Just women in tears everywhere. By my count I've seen 9 women crying in public, and only one was a tourist. And it's not even gray, gray, November yet.
It's not that Paris is an emotional city. It's a passionate city, that is for sure. But in many respects it's much like New York. When you leave your apartment you put on your game face. You wipe any sign of emotion from your face--anything that could be construed as a weakness--and you go and brave the elements, the people, the chaos, and public transport. For the most part, it's stoic faces all around. Which is why when you do see a teary-eyed face among the crowd it's even more jarring than it should be.
Saturday, September 8, 2012
Week One -- Birthday Week
Day 11 in Paris
Well, I made it through my first week of classes. To be honest, it was a bit bizarre. After not having taken a class in four years, sitting through those first introductions and reading through syllabi was tough. Add to that, that all but two of the eight classes were in French and you may start to get a dull pain in the back of your head. Really the only thing that saved the week for me school-wise was my seminar class, which is actually being led by an American, go figure.
But aside from that, all is well. I spent my 26th birthday this past week here in Paris. I started the day off with 7 straight hours of class, nearly had a nervous breakdown, waited at the wrong place for a friend visiting from Scotland-by-way-of-Crown Heights, and then ate my weight in oeufs-mayo and tatare de boeuf at Cafe de l'Industrie in the 11eme.
This weekend will be the weekend of picnics apparently. I organized one with a friend today in the Parc des Buttes Chaumont (I'm calling it a belated Labor Day celebration), and tomorrow I have one with the other members of my program at Sciences Po. Time to drink too many rosé wine spritzers judge people walking by, so essentially, I'm picking right up from where I left off in Brooklyn.
Well, I made it through my first week of classes. To be honest, it was a bit bizarre. After not having taken a class in four years, sitting through those first introductions and reading through syllabi was tough. Add to that, that all but two of the eight classes were in French and you may start to get a dull pain in the back of your head. Really the only thing that saved the week for me school-wise was my seminar class, which is actually being led by an American, go figure.
But aside from that, all is well. I spent my 26th birthday this past week here in Paris. I started the day off with 7 straight hours of class, nearly had a nervous breakdown, waited at the wrong place for a friend visiting from Scotland-by-way-of-Crown Heights, and then ate my weight in oeufs-mayo and tatare de boeuf at Cafe de l'Industrie in the 11eme.
This weekend will be the weekend of picnics apparently. I organized one with a friend today in the Parc des Buttes Chaumont (I'm calling it a belated Labor Day celebration), and tomorrow I have one with the other members of my program at Sciences Po. Time to drink too many rosé wine spritzers judge people walking by, so essentially, I'm picking right up from where I left off in Brooklyn.
Monday, September 3, 2012
Je m'appelle....?
Day 5 in Paris
Today is my first official day of class. My first class since May of 2008. It is sort of terrifying. More terrifying is that it's in French and is about local European politics. However, some things are looking up. I have an apartment (yay!), a phone, and hopefully soon, a bank account. What I definitely don't have, as I am relearning, is a name that French people can pronounce.
Introductions in French are pretty straightforward. That is, until I have to introduce myself and say my name. "Andrew" is probably one of the worst sounding and easily confused names when said in French. In the last three days people have thought my name to be, "Ando," "Ander," "Ethan," "Edouard." It's almost come the point where I have to revert back to what I used to do, and just say my name is "André."
Problem is I don't really like the name André either. I figure that if I'm just going to tell people a different name, it might as well be a name I like. Mathieu, which would be my confirmation name in French, might work. Problem is, knowing me, I'd probably forget and then not respond to people calling for Mathieu.
Today is my first official day of class. My first class since May of 2008. It is sort of terrifying. More terrifying is that it's in French and is about local European politics. However, some things are looking up. I have an apartment (yay!), a phone, and hopefully soon, a bank account. What I definitely don't have, as I am relearning, is a name that French people can pronounce.
Introductions in French are pretty straightforward. That is, until I have to introduce myself and say my name. "Andrew" is probably one of the worst sounding and easily confused names when said in French. In the last three days people have thought my name to be, "Ando," "Ander," "Ethan," "Edouard." It's almost come the point where I have to revert back to what I used to do, and just say my name is "André."
Problem is I don't really like the name André either. I figure that if I'm just going to tell people a different name, it might as well be a name I like. Mathieu, which would be my confirmation name in French, might work. Problem is, knowing me, I'd probably forget and then not respond to people calling for Mathieu.
Thursday, August 30, 2012
Nutella
Day 2 in Paris
Don't judge me but it's 4am in Paris and I can't sleep. So, instead, I am eating nutella on brioche while talking to people on Gchat in the States.
Don't judge me but it's 4am in Paris and I can't sleep. So, instead, I am eating nutella on brioche while talking to people on Gchat in the States.
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| Vittel and Nutella, the only things I'm running on. I'm glad Beemo is able to sleep though... |
Wednesday, August 29, 2012
First Day in Paris
Day 1 in Paris
Arrived in Paris at around noon today. Surprisingly, I was able to sleep on the plane for about 3 hours, which is something I never do. Since I was relatively rested, I was able to get started right away trying to rebuild my French life. I'm staying in a temporary place right now, a room rented via AirBnB. With any luck, I'll be in more permanent housing by the end of the week. But for today:
Step 1: French Outlet Adapter - Took the Metro to Hotel de Ville so I could go to BHV (which sells literally everything ever), and buy a cheap outlet adapter for my laptop. I recently got a new laptop and didn't realize that the plug had a grounder which made it not fit into the one adapter I've had since 2005. So, now I have two.
Step 2: French Phone - Went to Orange to get a pre-paid SIM card for my iPhone. I've decided to forgo having 3G and internet on my phone since WiFi is now pretty much everywhere. Also, I'm living the broke grad student life, so it's only fitting.
Step 3: French Sandwich Get - Walked to the Maison Kayser in the 5eme to get a sandwich mixte, which is just a half baguette, butter, emmental cheese, and ham.
Step 4: Groceries - Stopped off at the Franprix attached to the apartment building. It's funny how all the Franprix in Paris all smell the same: a mix of packaged cheese and cheap laundry detergent.
So considering I did all this on 3 hours of sleep, I'm going to call it a successful first day. But more importantly, walking around Paris today was a bit strange. Paris never changes (plus ça change...). There are the same smells (aside from the Franprix, other smells include: the strange rubbery smell of the Ligne 1, the stale moldy--yet not wholly repugnant--smell of every Metro station, the smell of rotating meats at the Maison de Gyro); the same sights; the same stores. At some points today I was able to close my eyes and feel like I had never left.
Arrived in Paris at around noon today. Surprisingly, I was able to sleep on the plane for about 3 hours, which is something I never do. Since I was relatively rested, I was able to get started right away trying to rebuild my French life. I'm staying in a temporary place right now, a room rented via AirBnB. With any luck, I'll be in more permanent housing by the end of the week. But for today:
Step 1: French Outlet Adapter - Took the Metro to Hotel de Ville so I could go to BHV (which sells literally everything ever), and buy a cheap outlet adapter for my laptop. I recently got a new laptop and didn't realize that the plug had a grounder which made it not fit into the one adapter I've had since 2005. So, now I have two.
Step 2: French Phone - Went to Orange to get a pre-paid SIM card for my iPhone. I've decided to forgo having 3G and internet on my phone since WiFi is now pretty much everywhere. Also, I'm living the broke grad student life, so it's only fitting.
Step 3: French Sandwich Get - Walked to the Maison Kayser in the 5eme to get a sandwich mixte, which is just a half baguette, butter, emmental cheese, and ham.
Step 4: Groceries - Stopped off at the Franprix attached to the apartment building. It's funny how all the Franprix in Paris all smell the same: a mix of packaged cheese and cheap laundry detergent.
So considering I did all this on 3 hours of sleep, I'm going to call it a successful first day. But more importantly, walking around Paris today was a bit strange. Paris never changes (plus ça change...). There are the same smells (aside from the Franprix, other smells include: the strange rubbery smell of the Ligne 1, the stale moldy--yet not wholly repugnant--smell of every Metro station, the smell of rotating meats at the Maison de Gyro); the same sights; the same stores. At some points today I was able to close my eyes and feel like I had never left.
Tuesday, August 28, 2012
The Farewell Tour
T-2 days until Paris
A lot has happened since my last update. I packed, I all but officially secured housing (more on that in a bit), and I have been trying to see as many people stateside as possible before I go. I've also been eating as much American food as I can.
Pies n' Thighs on Wednesday. Then up to Boston for a long weekend for a grill out, eggy brunches, and some North End Italian. Then, Sunday barbecue dinner (see pic) and diner coffee.
But more important than the food has been the company. I have the extreme good fortune to have an incredible array of amazing friends that I'm sure I don't deserve. Saying goodbye has been hard, so I'm pushing hard for everyone to come visit.
But more about this apartment. It's in the 19ème arrondissement with a roommate who seems awesome and I just found out the landlord is a graduate of the same university I'm going to. Once i get to Paris, I have to visit in person and get all my documents in order, but it should work out. For now though, I've arranged a room for myself on AirBnB near the apartment just in case.
Fingers crossed!
A lot has happened since my last update. I packed, I all but officially secured housing (more on that in a bit), and I have been trying to see as many people stateside as possible before I go. I've also been eating as much American food as I can.
Pies n' Thighs on Wednesday. Then up to Boston for a long weekend for a grill out, eggy brunches, and some North End Italian. Then, Sunday barbecue dinner (see pic) and diner coffee.
But more important than the food has been the company. I have the extreme good fortune to have an incredible array of amazing friends that I'm sure I don't deserve. Saying goodbye has been hard, so I'm pushing hard for everyone to come visit.
But more about this apartment. It's in the 19ème arrondissement with a roommate who seems awesome and I just found out the landlord is a graduate of the same university I'm going to. Once i get to Paris, I have to visit in person and get all my documents in order, but it should work out. For now though, I've arranged a room for myself on AirBnB near the apartment just in case.
Fingers crossed!
Monday, August 20, 2012
Packing
T-10 days until Paris
With close to one week left until Paris, I've been busy trying to get things together. This means mainly one thing: Packing, which also means humoring my OCD tendencies. For example:
This was for a two-week trip to California. And keep in mind, before I actually start laying things out to pack them, I've probably been thinking about what to bring for weeks. Needless to say, I've had a packing list for Paris for about two months now. But when I say I think (obsess) about what I'm going to park, I actually mean I'm thinking about what I can get away with not bringing.
Why? This quirk--like many other things, as you'll learn--comes from the last time I lived Paris. When, as a 20-year old young adult with still questionable life skills, I didn't think at all about packing or preparing to move all my stuff, including 10 months worth of accumulated things, back to the States. So imagine my surprise when I got to the Air France counter and told that my bags were so overweight that they were over the limit for overweight bags. In other words, there was no amount of money I could have paid for them to take my luggage. I was forced to part with 12 kgs of my belongings there and then at the counter.
I love my things. I'm not ashamed to admit it. So having to Sophie's Choice my things (French things!) was particularly traumatic, especially since so much of what I had to leave ended up being books (French books!). Hundreds of euros in books, abandoned right there on the Air France counter. My eyes still water at the thought of it.
So, I'm trimming down my things. Less is more. My Europe life will fit into one rolling luggage, one carry-on duffel, and a backpack.
With close to one week left until Paris, I've been busy trying to get things together. This means mainly one thing: Packing, which also means humoring my OCD tendencies. For example:
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| Yes, yes. All the things. |
This was for a two-week trip to California. And keep in mind, before I actually start laying things out to pack them, I've probably been thinking about what to bring for weeks. Needless to say, I've had a packing list for Paris for about two months now. But when I say I think (obsess) about what I'm going to park, I actually mean I'm thinking about what I can get away with not bringing.
Why? This quirk--like many other things, as you'll learn--comes from the last time I lived Paris. When, as a 20-year old young adult with still questionable life skills, I didn't think at all about packing or preparing to move all my stuff, including 10 months worth of accumulated things, back to the States. So imagine my surprise when I got to the Air France counter and told that my bags were so overweight that they were over the limit for overweight bags. In other words, there was no amount of money I could have paid for them to take my luggage. I was forced to part with 12 kgs of my belongings there and then at the counter.
I love my things. I'm not ashamed to admit it. So having to Sophie's Choice my things (French things!) was particularly traumatic, especially since so much of what I had to leave ended up being books (French books!). Hundreds of euros in books, abandoned right there on the Air France counter. My eyes still water at the thought of it.
So, I'm trimming down my things. Less is more. My Europe life will fit into one rolling luggage, one carry-on duffel, and a backpack.
Friday, August 17, 2012
My Running List of Things I Will Miss About New York (and to a lesser extent, the United States)
T-13 days until Paris
If you had asked me a month ago what I would miss about New York during my stint abroad, I would have come up with shockingly few items. I was feeling burned out from the City, always going to the same places to eat, same bars, same crowds, same parties. But with the big day getting closer, I remember that the last time I lived in Paris, I started to hate it too by the end of my stay. A very recent two-week trip to California, while exceedingly pleasant, also forced me to think about what I will be missing about my hometown.
So, here it is the first installment of things I (Will) Miss About New York/USA. Unsurprisingly, they're nearly all about food.
If you had asked me a month ago what I would miss about New York during my stint abroad, I would have come up with shockingly few items. I was feeling burned out from the City, always going to the same places to eat, same bars, same crowds, same parties. But with the big day getting closer, I remember that the last time I lived in Paris, I started to hate it too by the end of my stay. A very recent two-week trip to California, while exceedingly pleasant, also forced me to think about what I will be missing about my hometown.
So, here it is the first installment of things I (Will) Miss About New York/USA. Unsurprisingly, they're nearly all about food.
- Ice: America is the land of freedom and ice cubes. Ask for glaçons with your water or soda in Paris and you will get two, maybe three, ice cubes. And we're talking about sad tray-made ice cubes, not like those industrial cylindrical beauties with the hollow centers, or the amazing gravel-sized pellets like at Sonic (which we don't even get in New York), or even the standard hotel ice machine-sized briquettes. You can cool a .33L cannette of Coca-Light as much as you want, but it will still be lukewarm in 5 minutes.
- Real Chinese Food: Or, not even "real" Chinese food. Paris doesn't even have decent fake Chinese food. Paris has terrific pho. It has decent Japanese and even some Korean places. And, believe me, its not for a lack of trying that I don't know of any decent places. Most of the saddest meals I've ever had in Paris involved me trying to sate my craving with some reheated poulet au miel (aka sesame chicken without the sesame) at the traiteur chinois around the corner for my apartment. I would sell my first-born for Xi'an Famous Foods or Prosperity Dumpling to come to Paris.
- Mexican Food: New York Mexican food isn't even that good I'm told. Of course, it's the Californians (and the odd Texan or two) who tell me this. But it does more than just fine for me. And in comparison, Paris got their first real taqueria in 2011. While I was there from 2006 to 2007, we either had to settle for unbelievably bad "Tex-Mex," or try to approximate it from scratch at home. Have you ever tried finding an avocado in Paris? It's not the easiest task, especially on a student budget. Also, we found out that canned guacamole is really gross and, strangely, not even that green.
- Comfort Food/BBQ/Southern Food: This is my own fault. Far too many trips to Fette Sau, Hill Country BBQ, Hill Country Chicken, Pies n' Thighs. Heck, even to Dallas BBQ. I have no shame.
- Bars: This sounds ridiculous, but I will miss terrible dives like the Levee. I'll miss No Name. I already miss Darkroom. With time, and if things are particularly sad, I may end up missing Lit Lounge. I know I'll miss $5 beer and shot combos when I'm laying out 10 euros for a mojito that I don't even like/want. Also, do they play Cut Copy, Passion Pit, Holy Ghost!, etc. at bars in Paris? M83? I mean, he's French, they have to, no? God, I hope they do. It can't all be Pitbull collaborations with David Guetta.
I don't want to dwell on these things, so I'll stop there. Also as a grad student I realize that my priorities should lie elsewhere and not with nightlife and mac n' cheese (as it does now, clearly).
And that is not to say I'm dreading Paris. I love Paris. I fit in in Paris. I understand Paris. It has great things going for it: cafes and bistrots; good affordable wine everywhere; Nuit Blanche; Fête de la Musique; 1 euro baguettes; Chocolate Hazelnut Muesli; incomparable culture and art; a functioning and expanding public transit system (ahem, not the MTA), etc. I just wish I could get some decent dumplings and some ice cubes in between all that when I'm feeling homesick.
Wednesday, August 15, 2012
The Quest for Housing; or, There is a 75% Chance I Will Be Homeless in Paris
T-14 days until Paris
I've been told I'm a decent roommate. I don't nag. I'm not disgusting. I don't bring home people of questionable provenance/nature/hygiene. I clean regularly, and always when prompted to. I cook and bake. And pretty darn well I should say. I always pay rent and utilities on time.
Needless to say, my utter lack of success in securing any kind of viable living situation has been a deflating experience. I understand that I'm not in Paris, and that fact makes things exponentially more difficult. It makes people less trusting of me as a candidate. It makes anyone else on the same continent more attractive as a potential roommate/renter than me. Needless to say, this has done nothing for my fear of rejection.
Since I've left my job a month ago, looking for housing has been the only thing I would comfortably call a responsibility in my life. I go about it seriously. I get up at 9:00 a.m. and get set to work. I spend hours reviewing housing message boards, searching roommate network sites, and contacting friends of friends of friends. I've written hundreds of emails and gotten perhaps ten responses. Out of these responses, I've gotten only two that were even willing to talk to me via Skype. And today, one of those two cancelled our call and informed me the spot had been filled. Womp.
It's unnerving to me that I've had more success in getting a job interview/offer than I've had getting people agree to talk to me about me possibly spending my money to live with them/rent their apartment. I have so many things to worry about when I get there, setting up my cell phone, opening a bank account, completing my registration, finalizing loans, etc. that I was really hoping to have this part of my stay settled. Ultimately though, I know it is not a huge deal. But I find that I have to keep telling myself that I will go to Paris no matter what, and hopefully I will be able to crash on a couch or two while I look for something in person.
I've been told I'm a decent roommate. I don't nag. I'm not disgusting. I don't bring home people of questionable provenance/nature/hygiene. I clean regularly, and always when prompted to. I cook and bake. And pretty darn well I should say. I always pay rent and utilities on time.
Needless to say, my utter lack of success in securing any kind of viable living situation has been a deflating experience. I understand that I'm not in Paris, and that fact makes things exponentially more difficult. It makes people less trusting of me as a candidate. It makes anyone else on the same continent more attractive as a potential roommate/renter than me. Needless to say, this has done nothing for my fear of rejection.
Since I've left my job a month ago, looking for housing has been the only thing I would comfortably call a responsibility in my life. I go about it seriously. I get up at 9:00 a.m. and get set to work. I spend hours reviewing housing message boards, searching roommate network sites, and contacting friends of friends of friends. I've written hundreds of emails and gotten perhaps ten responses. Out of these responses, I've gotten only two that were even willing to talk to me via Skype. And today, one of those two cancelled our call and informed me the spot had been filled. Womp.
It's unnerving to me that I've had more success in getting a job interview/offer than I've had getting people agree to talk to me about me possibly spending my money to live with them/rent their apartment. I have so many things to worry about when I get there, setting up my cell phone, opening a bank account, completing my registration, finalizing loans, etc. that I was really hoping to have this part of my stay settled. Ultimately though, I know it is not a huge deal. But I find that I have to keep telling myself that I will go to Paris no matter what, and hopefully I will be able to crash on a couch or two while I look for something in person.
Greetings
Hello,
If you are reading this, then you must already know me--or at the very least--have been cyberstalking me cursorily, and as such any sort of formal introduction I need to make is redundant.
For those of you who don't know, I am moving to Paris for a year to start a dual degree masters program at Sciences Po. The other half of that dual degree will be at the London School of Economics. In other words, in 12 months, after having acclimated to Paris again, I'll be traumatizing myself all over by moving to yet another different country. So, you should probably stay tuned. Make some popcorn, tell all your friends, and watch me inevitably shorten my lifespan with anxiety, stress, and what I'm sure ill be a thousand-fold increase in my baguette-based carb intake.
Andrew
If you are reading this, then you must already know me--or at the very least--have been cyberstalking me cursorily, and as such any sort of formal introduction I need to make is redundant.
For those of you who don't know, I am moving to Paris for a year to start a dual degree masters program at Sciences Po. The other half of that dual degree will be at the London School of Economics. In other words, in 12 months, after having acclimated to Paris again, I'll be traumatizing myself all over by moving to yet another different country. So, you should probably stay tuned. Make some popcorn, tell all your friends, and watch me inevitably shorten my lifespan with anxiety, stress, and what I'm sure ill be a thousand-fold increase in my baguette-based carb intake.
Andrew
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