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.

New Goal

Live on a houseboat on the Seine in Neuilly. That's like winning the bougie Olympics.

Nuit Blanche

Day 40 in Paris

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. 

Also: Bubbles at the National Archives to an indie soundtrack. I'm pretty sure I heard a Sufjan Stevens song.

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. 

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.