Found this

http://matadornetwork.com/abroad/10-things-i-wish-id-known-before-studying-abroad/

Yes, I already posted today.

Yes, I am just connecting to another website on studying abroad.

But I just read this and wanted to put it up, because on most of the points, I totally relate, and for any of you thinking of studying abroad, I would probably warn you about some of these too. Especially #s 2, 6, 7, and 10.

À Bientôt!

Guilty Blog Post

Hey there blog readers. I realize that I haven’t posted anything in a long time, and I’m here to apologize for that. Sort of.

In my past posts, I have always blogged when something interesting has happened or when there is something on my mind I’d like to share. Neither of these have really happened much recently, so I haven’t blogged.

Then I realized that the longer I waited to blog, the guiltier I felt for putting it off. So this is mostly to ease the guilt.

Let’s see, I finished my first exam yesterday, and I have my second (and last) next week. Classes are over, and final papers are all turned in. I’ve been working on finishing my Division II over email. I’ll start packing sometime this weekend (though really there is not much to do). Most exciting thing I’m looking forward to is that my friends from school back in the U.S. are coming to visit next week (which admittedly is REALLY exciting). Other than that, I’m not doing much. Literally, I woke up, showered, got dressed, watched some T.V. on youtube, and eventually ventured outside to the grocery store for a couple items; I thought to myself, “Look at me! I’m SUCCESSFUL! I left the apartment!”

I know what you would say. “You are in PARIS! Go do something FUN and AMAZING.” The small issues here being: a) anything more fun than going to the park costs money I do not have, though there are some museums I could get in free to, but that leads us to the next problem --> b) If I don’t have to do anything, I get lazy.

No doubt I will go outside this weekend and enjoy the sunshine at some point. I also have my last Frisbee practice on Monday and the team is having a BBQ on Tuesday. I’m not a COMPLETE shut-in. But for now, I think it would be best to suit myself to what I want to do while I have the free time, and today, that’s watching more videos on youtube.

More adventures to come now that I have kick-started myself to blogging again.

À Bientôt!

Oh this is too perfect

I think to myself on Saturdays such as these when I sleep past 2 in the afternoon, how can I make up for sleeping the day away? Of course I ought to spend some time in the sun, but also do some homework. I managed this rather well on Wednesday by going to le Jardin du Luxembourg and reading a book for class, so I decided to repeat this action today.

It was another gorgeous sunny day, like it has been all week. The flowers and trees smelled amazing, and the copious subjects available for people-watching made it hard to concentrate. I got through maybe ten pages when a boom in the distance startled me.

What the heck was that?

Looking up towards the sky in the booming direction, I saw that the dark clouds were rolling in, and there was a subsequent “Boom.”

Oh jeez. Thunder in Paris.

Not wasting any time, I packed up my things and walked briskly towards the exit. The rain began not a minute later, and all around the other park visitors’ shrieks and scampering crescendo-ed in an almost humorous way and everyone ducked for cover. Not I.

iPod on and the sun still shining, I all but danced my way down the path and out to the street, the rain pounding and lightening up every few moments, trying to decide whether it should be a passing summer rain or to grow into a full-on thunderstorm.

This is one of my perfect weathers.

At last, a break in the static heat of the sun, a release, when ruining your shoes doesn’t matter, there’s a song in your heart, and at last, an open smile on your face.

Everyone else under the overhangs on the sidewalk didn’t know what they were missing.

À Bientôt!

To have a Happy Easter, you have to break a few eggs

This being my 20^th post and following the events of this afternoon, I feel the time is now right to write about the Monoprix.

(Queue the epic choir)

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Yes, the Monoprix.

Since the beginning of my séjour here, this glowing red neon M has been where I pay homage to all things grocery. The one that I go to is just one street away, the height of convenience. True, the produce was a bit pricey and by February I was more inclined to seek it elsewhere in open markets, but for the most part, I had a great fondness for this place. It was much like a Target in the U.S. in some ways, with a section for clothes, home goods, and food-stuffs, though the grocery section is a bit more fleshed out. I have known for a long while now that Monoprix is one of the most expensive supermarket chains in the city, particularly where I live, but the distance was so convenient and I watched the prices carefully, so I thought I was doing alright.

Then came Lidl.

I had heard of this place a few times amongst friends, that the food-stuffs were less expensive. At last today I decided to suck it up about riding the metro for groceries and checked out the one closest to me (and it wasn’t very close).

I found a miracle. Lidl most resembles the food section of an Ocean State Job Lot, and I was LOVING IT.

Nearly everything I bought today I got for half of what I pay at the Monoprix (in most cases that cuts the price by around ,50 centimes, but still, half off!), but, get this, the SAME BRAND of spaghetti sauce that I get at Monoprix for 2,25€ a jar was ,85€ at Lidl.

Happy Dance Loading: |-----------     |

I also picked up what looked like an insane deal on a ten pack of beer. It wasn’t until after I made it all the way home that I saw the alcohol content: <1%

FAIL.

It basically tastes like ginger ale. Oh well, there were other cheap actual beers there as well, I can always go back at some point.

It is actually a good thing in a way that I hadn’t discovered Lidl before now, for a few reasons:

1)   I knew all along that Monoprix was pricey, but I planned accordingly and learned to look out for the most inexpensive ways to eat.

2)   Lidl is not a complete supermarket like Monoprix, and houses a large amount of chocolate, cookies, and very cheap wine. This would have been temping beyond measure had I known. (However, I will of course be returning in a few weeks after classes are over. Mwa. Mwahaha. MWAHAHAHA!!!)

Unfortunately upon my return I also discovered that two of the ten eggs I had bought had broken and dripped all over the bag, which gratefully only also had the not-beer in it. Oh well.

Joyeuse Pâques tout le monde!

Blending in – or standing out?

Remember how I said I was starting to feel like a resident? Clearly it shows. 

What is the inherent problem with a non-native young woman dressing like a Parisienne?

Tourists will think she is a Parisienne. They will ask her for directions. Often. And most of the time, she won’t know where these places are either. And having been taken by surprise at being called out in the street, “Madame! Excusez-moi, Madame!” most likely, she will not respond in her most fluent of French, but rather disjointed and vague directions/apologies. How humiliating.

This normally happens to me once every few weeks since I arrived here, but today it happened an astounding three times in around five minutes. There has been a huge influx of tourists in the past couple of weeks. At least the third was asking where a street was that was by coincidence my street. I can figure out that much!

À Bientôt!

Home or Away

Classes are really wrapping up; I have two and a half weeks left, then exams. I try to focus, but the weather is beautiful out, and sometimes I daydream of home…

I found myself thinking of soft-serve ice cream, Dad’s homemade pizza, driving through downtown, lilacs, green grass and mountains. I look forward to spending days at the lake with my siblings, organic vegetables, and running around the house with my dog. I am very excited to return home.

At the same time, I look around myself and realize how much I will leave behind. The off-white stone buildings, ivy on the church, street lights, the night-lit ponts, open cafés and brasseries, des boulangeries et des patisseries, the French flag waving against the blue sky…

Being surrounded by a new culture is fascinating, and there are days when I feel so much a part of it. Greeting friends with bisous, taking the métro, shopping at the Sunday market, and feeling much more like a resident when comparing myself to the tourists while strolling along the quais and around the Louvre.

However, this experience is only adding a new chapter to who I am. I feel that I will always view the world differently after having lived abroad, and I am so grateful to have had the opportunity. I will no doubt feel a change when I return to the U.S., having experienced something different. But I am altogether American, and no matter how accustomed to Paris I have become, I wholly feel that that the states is where I feel most at home. Maybe someday I will expatriate to Europe in retirement, but I feel that is a long way away.

In the meantime, I will finish my classes, start packing in a few weeks for my return, and soak up as much sun as I can. It is with great joy that at times I remember, at home or away, it is the same sun.

What The Fox?

This time I put off writing because I have actually been busy! Not just with work, I actually go outside in the sun and socialize now!

Most recent adventure: Ultimate Frisbee Tournament in Compiègne

My first Ultimate tournament in France! I was so excited. I have been consistently attending practices once a week, learning the different strategies and terms. It is not the same as being back at school playing with my own beloved team, Red Scare, but it has been interesting. Sciences Po’s team is called What The Fox. Some nights half of the players who show up are English-speaking exchange students like myself, other nights it’s mostly the French students. This tournament had a bit of both: Saturday had a good mix of the two, and Sunday it was just the French-speaking students and myself. While in general I think my overall comprehension and verbal expression in French has improved since I started, it was still difficult for me to follow along in the conversations half of the time, and I mostly just listened. Full immersion can be very interesting, but overwhelming at times too. They did all speak English to some degree, and were very willing to translate for me if I really didn’t understand, which was considerate of them. It helped me to feel a bit more included, but at the same time it’s awkward being the odd one out.

We played four games on Saturday, and three on Sunday. We lost them all, though the final one was a close loss of 7/10. The team had good spirit though, so we had a nice time. While I missed the varied cheers and spirit games that I love in the U.S., there was a difference I liked:

After each game, the two teams would form one huddle, alternating players from each team, and give a rundown of how each side thought the game went, commented on what could have gone better, what worked well, and wished the other team luck for their other games. We do this as well, but mostly as separate teams and we may shout out a corny cheer to the other team to say “good game.” Some teams here not only high fived after the games, but also kissed cheeks. I am in France after all.

We did play one round of “Ninja” with our opponents from the first game, but I so missed playing “Wah.”

We had gotten to the tournament by train, and then a bus. Those who had gone back to Paris on Saturday night instead of staying over were able to get back by car, but what the four of us overnighters hadn’t realized was that the bus to the train station didn’t operate on Sundays. Before I could really take this in, one of my friends looked to the road and stuck out his thumb.

Are you serious?

Before I could really start panicking about the possibility of the four of us hitchhiking, we did manage to get a ride to the train station, about ten minutes away.

I got back, sore and sunburned within an inch of my life (I hadn’t had the chance to buy sunscreen before leaving, and no one else had brought it on the first day either), around 6:30PM last night. Now I have bought some aloe, and I hope the stinging stops soon.

Overall it was a good experience, and I am glad to have had the opportunity to keep doing what I love most while abroad. When I get back though, I may have to retrain myself to say, “Stalling one, two, three, …” instead of, “Comptez un, deux, trois, …” and from saying things from the side lines like, “dommage,” “bien joué,” and “force coup-droit!”

À Bientôt!

No wonder coffee is starting to taste good

Good golly have I been busy.

As I mentioned before, schoolwork really started to take its toll right after spring break. I know that many students have had a much worse time of it than I have had with assignments, but I’m talking about me here, and in my opinion about how much stress I can take, I’m reaching new heights.

On the one hand, I have been very productive and have managed to tackle each new problem with patience, organization, and above all, determination. I have completed two exposés (oral presentations), one paper, and a slew of tests on top of all my other usual homework. I still have a book to finish and a midterm paper due by next week, but it’s manageable.

What stresses me are the consequences of living independently in a foreign country. I have had late immigration paperwork to deal with, obtaining documents for French social security, fixing faulty flight information (thank you for waiting, please hold… thank you for waiting, please hold…) that costs about a dollar a minute. And also that police report for my stolen skis. Then of course there’s the habitual worrying about managing my money properly – I have to save aside enough for rent, then how much do I typically spend on groceries, then how much does that leave for métro tickets, laundry, postage, textbooks, and some spare Euros for the occasional drink or two with friends? But I am always worrying about how I spend money, so it’s a moot point.

Just today I tried to add additional information to my police report; it took a while, struggling with my words, even though I had written down the information first, and even after they finally understood what I was saying, they asked me why I had bothered coming in, because the information was not useful to them. AUGH. (I guess we all have days like these)

However, this experience has taught me how to be resourceful, patient, resilient, and enduring. Not to mention to speak better French! No matter what, I am going to view my struggles as learning experiences. When I embarked on this trip, I mostly was curious whether or not I could do it. Am I smart enough to study at Sciences Po? Are my French skills good enough? Will I be able to handle living on my own thousands of miles away from friends and family? So far, I suppose I can handle it, and in my mind that means this adventure has been successful for me.

Nonetheless, I have decided that I much prefer living in the U.S. where I can speak English all the time, and where I am much closer to my friends and family. And although there are many things about living alone that appeal to my stubbornly independent nature, I very much miss the communal living environment of school back home.

Speaking of family, I was so glad to have my grandmother come and visit me last week. We had been planning this visit for months, and I couldn’t wait to see her. She stayed at a hotel near me, and we spent every day exploring a new part of the city, as well as Versailles. We found some great places to eat for dinner, as well as a few patisseries and a great gelato place. I am glad she made it home safely, and I hope she enjoyed her trip here as much as I did. =)

A couple more notes – one: as much as I have disliked it in the U.S., I have occasionally tried coffee here. Much to my astonishment, I haven’t disliked it yet. Today I even found myself seeking it out. It costs 0,50€ a cup from any one of the many vending machines in the Sciences Po buildings. I realized that after I combed two of the adjoining buildings looking for a machine that made mocha, I might actually like coffee. I settled for a café au lait.

Two: I made a tiny albeit startling discovery this week. I have been searching for years for shoes that uphold my standards of toe-covering. The reason I don’t own many pairs of shoes isn’t that I don’t like them; I’m just picky. If I am going to wear a pair of heels or flats, I want all of my toes to be covered. Sandals, whatever, they are supposed to be open-toe. Even if I can see just the cracks between my toes, I won’t buy them. It’s a small thing, but I don’t like how it looks, it distracts me for some reason. (Gosh, how neurotic is this girl, you may be wondering. C’mon, we all have our random pet peeves). Anyway, I bought a pair of flats on Monday (finally, I have been wanting a pair for over a year) really inexpensively, in order to break a 50€. They are very cute, but they still just don’t cover my toes entirely. I have always supposed that this was the fault of the shoes, and that I simply hadn’t found the right pair yet. But what if that is not the case? What if I just have abnormally long toes???

(Ding goes the light bulb)

Somehow amidst all these aforementioned graver things to be concerned with, things like this pop into my head.

On that note,

À Bientôt!

Experiment Complete!

Hullo Hullo!

Third day in a row of writing, and after I had said that I did not have much to say, but I would like to announce the results of my experiment.

I think that I only mentioned this idea to my sister once in passing while I was packing for this trip, and even then I was only slightly kidding.

I decided that I would bring nearly every necklace and nearly every pair of earrings I own (leaving behind all of my jewelery that was too fancy for everyday wear of course), and I would wear each item only once, and see how long it would take me. I never wore more than one pair of earrings a day, and wore them as many days as possible. (Some days I just forgot, or stayed indoors in pajamas, and what would have been the point then?)

Today I wore my LAST pair of earrings.

In case you were interested, I brought 8 necklaces, and 44 pairs of earrings. I have been here 63 days.

I have never attempted something like this before - usually I just re-wear simple studs and save the larger, more sparkly jewelery for parties and the like.

Don't know how interesting this subject is for everyone, but I've been working on this consistently, and wanted to make the results known!

Something more France-related next time,

À Bientôt!

Some things just take getting used to

When you are living in a new country, a new environment, or just having new experiences in general, it’s pretty much guaranteed that you are going to have to adjust.

I have made some adjustments to this experience that I have attributed to living in France/Europe, living in a city, and things where I think, “no, that’s just me.”

To explain, I have divided the categories as such.

Living In France

First off, the obvious: hearing and speaking French most of the time (unless you are me and are taking all of your courses in English, so maybe half the time)

Measurements – a category by itself

-       Say goodbye to thinking in pounds, ounces, inches, feet, miles, Fahrenheit, the 12-hour clock, and American Dollars for 4 and a half months.

-       Familiarize yourself with these: grams, liters, meters, Celsius, 24h, and of course, Euros.  You now weigh a certain number of kilograms, your beer is in centiliters, and the table is meters, not feet, away. I pride myself that the first three are getting easy and the 24h time and Euros are now second nature, though I still need a calculator for the Euro to Dollar conversion and vice versa. Thinking in Celsius still gives me trouble. It’s 11˚ C? Nope, still doesn’t register right away.

-       Also! Slide in the ground floor (le rez-de-chaussée) under the first floor. Floors are called des étages. For example, I live on the 6eme étage. 

Bureaucracy

Parisians do not seem to have a law about picking up after their dogs. Ahem.

You cannot walk on the grass, unless you are in a park and the area is specifically marked.

There is a distinct lack of color

Kissing cheeks when greeting and departing - left, then right.

Wearing Scarves all of the time

French police sirens

Saying “Pardon” for everything

Street signs (I believe I explained this in an earlier post)

Spacing in phone numbers – there are still ten digits, but they are spaced differently, i.e. U.S.: XXX-XXX-XXXX FR: XX XX XX XX XX

Actually, numbers in general. Decimals are now commas and commas are now decimals. Don’t confuse them. U.S.: $2,000.00 FR: 2.000,00€ (and of course, the two do not equate. $2,000 US dollars is about 1.433,58€, according to the online calculator I use. Spend money responsibly.)

Keyboards – bring your own computer, it’s hard enough to remember where the accent shortcuts are on the American keyboard when typing in French.

Paper is slightly longer. Random, but I guess it has something to do with being measured in centimeters and not inches.

Hors Service means that the device you are trying to use is Out of Order.

Libre Service at the Laundromat (la laverie) does not mean that the laundry service is free. Self Service. You are free to do it yourself.

Everyone apart from you seems to live off of bottled water, even though the tap water is perfectly potable.

The Monoprix is not open on Sunday. (why, why, why??)

Living in a City

Riding the metro and walking everywhere

Pigeons

Traffic and crosswalks – the lights are more like guidelines: If no cars are in sight, book it across the street. The little green neon walking man won’t necessarily prevent that car from slowing down in time, so take notice of your surroundings.

Cigarettes

Never seeing the stars

A tiny apartment without an elevator

Quiet hours; your neighbors can hear you.

Surrounded by people all of the time

Seeing homeless people or des S.D.F., (sans domicile fixe, meaning without a fixed residence) as they are called here.

Just Me

Being of legal drinking age – It took me a couple of weeks to be comfortable with buying alcoholic beverages, not to mention that no one has once asked to see my I.D. That will surely change when I get home.

Leather boots are now your everyday shoes – and mine won’t. stop. squeaking. I now think twice about crossing my ankles in class, but occasionally it is still wince-worthy.

Not wearing a stitch of denim for 4 and a half months. At least my wardrobe was already significantly black.

A low-standing mattress that is not much more than a futon pad, and scratchy blankets. The sheets are nice enough. I brought my own set as well and a homemade blanket too, but I can’t wait to get back to memory foam.

Limited dishes. I have what I need, but for the most part only one or two of each thing. I am washing dishes constantly. 

I don’t think I need to further discuss my hot plate issues.

My wifi is not my default connection. I need to connect to the Internet every time I turn my computer on or wake it up. I know, this is a small thing to think about, and there may be a simple way to fix this, but I am not technologically savvy.

Filing a police report for my stolen skis (Yeahhh didn’t mention that in the skiing post. It was awful, I had just left them on the ground for a few minutes while we were preparing to leave, turned around and they were gone. The police station wasn’t nearly as bad as I imagined at least. The officer even said my French was far better than his English.)

On that note, having a ski goggle tan hasn’t been a piece of cake either – having a cherry red nose and a tan face below the line under my cheekbones for a few weeks hasn’t amused me much. It is fading though.

Now, you must not think that I am complaining. Goodness no. It has just been a lot to take on. Although there are things that have been difficult to adjust to, there are many more things about France that I will miss.

Food. Great goodness the food. Crêpes and pita grec of course, French mayonnaise, the hot chocolate I buy, authentic baguettes, chèvre, and wine, and the chocolate is much tastier here.

Going to the market every Sunday morning

Being surrounded by architecture and historical landmarks

There is a “spirit” to this city that is nearly tangible, and on my best days, I feel it resonating in me. I will miss that.

Of course, I will have a better idea what I will miss once I have actually left, I am much too close to all of this now; I suppose I take it for granted sometimes.

Hope this makes up for not writing for a while. I am going to start making dinner soon, a bit early for France, but oh well. I have plans to mix a Swiss dish with an Irish accompaniment: a Raclette dinner with potatoes, sausage, and bread (Raclette is a type of cheese you melt and pour over your meal, usually the sort of food I described), and a Guinness. To my friends and family back home in the U.S., Happy Saint Patrick’s Day!

À Bientôt!

A Pause

Hey everybody,
Sorry I haven't updated in a while - honestly there isn't much to report. I got back from break with a cold, still getting over it, and March is going to be a slow month for updates, what with all the work I need to do for classes. Somehow all the oral presentations, papers, and a few exams ended up nestling together in the span of the next couple of weeks. I'm digging my heels in now, trying to take it all on, but don't worry, I'm not abandoning the blog. I just haven't come across much to write about...
Humm... the weather got nicer. (Not really helpful in my drive to work, but it's good to see the sun again)
Hopefully when the worst of my work is over, I will have more interesting adventures in the city to regale you with, till then,
À Bientôt!

Vacationing with the Yeti

I am finally back in Paris after my spring break in the French Alps!

The trip was organized by the Association Sportive at Sciences Po, and accommodated well over 100 students (I do not actually know how many students were there, but considering that it took three coach buses…). We set out on Friday, February 25th, and the return bus came in early this morning.

I was lucky enough to be housed with three other English-speaking students, though I also had the opportunity to meet several of the other French students on the trip as well. We stayed at the Risoul station, and skied at both Risoul and Vars. The terrain was massive and beautifully maintained; have never had a more fulfilling ski experience. Not to mention I have never before skied for 7 full days in a row, and somehow I am not sore at all (I have developed a rather bad cold within the last two days, but no matter). 

The fee for the trip included travel, lodging, 7 days of lift tickets, 6 days of food, and a 15€ credit towards the bar on the ground floor of the lodging, called La Grotte du Yeti. Not bad at all for 450€.

The weather was overall very good throughout the week, mostly sunny and not too cold. We could have used some snowfall during the week, as the trails were getting progressively icier, but all in all, the conditions were better than any I have experienced in New England.

The skiing never had the boring side effect of running out of places to go; I skied for 7 full days straight and only did a handful of trails twice, so that should give you a good idea about how huge this place was. The system for levels of the trails was a bit different as well, eliminating the double-black diamond category and placing a red one between blue and black. I skied the blue ones mostly during the week, and progressed to reds by Friday, something I had sworn not to do at the beginning of the week. Considering my ordinarily mellow status as a skier in Vermont, this was a huge advancement. I can tell my skills have improved greatly.

Some random highlights:

Discovering that pâté is delicious, and other general food munching with my roommates, displaying our cooking talents.

La piste (French for slope or trail) called Les Heureux.

Going to the sauna and pool for an evening with some of the other students.

Mastering most of the Téléski lifts without falling off (though there were a few spectacular falls while getting on them).

While riding a chairlift, listening to a baritone French man singing “LA LA LA LA” as he skied down a trail (crack me up).

French children being adorable (then again, it was a bummer that they mostly owned me at skiing on the harder trails, and came out of nowhere, so you constantly had to watch on all sides in so as not to run them over).

Learning some new slang:

Term: McDonald’s

America: Mickey D’s

Australia: Macker’s

France: MacDo

Term: Drunk

America: Wasted

New Zealand: Munted

France: Déchiré (Torn)

Overall, an enjoyable week. Some pics below, enjoy!

À Bientôt!

Sights from the Streets

I know I updated yesterday, or to be more specific, I updated around 3 in the morning here, but a thought occurred to me today.

I seem to be writing only when something of significance happens to me, such as moving in, a specific walk around the city, or my laundry situation.

Is this necessary? There are of course a cornucopia of things happening to me every day, even things I am not aware of at first. These observations and tiny moments have as much a right to be told as more monumental or amusing occurrences.

For example, there are a variety of things to observe while walking down the street that have become secondary to me, but might make someone unfamiliar with them go, “say whaa??”

Let's start with something simple: a trash can. It has a familiar shape, and is often found outside some apartments or in their internal courtyards (like mine). Used to deposit trash to be picked up later.

Too easy you say?

How about this one?

A public trash bag, all exactly alike in this city (as far as I can tell), and depending on the street, can range as close as several meters. These bags are replaced daily, so this city is fairly devoid of garbage piles.

 Still too obvious?

Ahh, signs then, perhaps? Here we have a mix of pedestrian crossing, do not enter, and towing zone.

Also, a lovely example of a street sign indicating its name, as they are posted on every corner of every street.

Still logical enough?

Okay smartypants...

Care to explain these?

Any guesses what this establishment could be?

A Pharmacy! The neon green cross is the symbol of a pharmacy here in France, and they are absolutely EVERYWHERE. The French love their pharmacy products.

Still not really sure what those red circular signs are...

Good grief! It's a dinosaur egg! It's a space pod! It's a ... recycling bin?

Bottles are disposed of in a very green fashion here.

 What the...?

This is actually a piece of art on the corner of a building, called a space invader. You can find out more about these installations here:

 http://www.space-invaders.com/som.html

They are quite common in Europe and other places around the world evidently, and I myself have spotted 3 so far.

So there are many new and interesting things to see here every day! I haven't had the pleasure recently to go exploring much, but I surely will again. Well then, what have I been up to on my down time?

... what I would probably do on any ordinary rainy Saturday afternoon. Eat soup, listen to music, and play cards by myself. Yeah, not that exciting, but some days that's the way the cookie crumbles. 

But updates should get more interesting in the next few days while I am in the Alps!

À Bientôt!

Find a dry spot and stay there

Today, I decided to hand wash my clothes.

No, that is incorrectly stated. If I had my way, there would be a washer and dryer in this building, and I would not have to pay for it. Laundry day would be a magical thing like at home or at school, when I can put my clothes in the trustworthy, free machine(s), do homework or watch TV in the meantime, and after a possible few hours, I will have a huuuge pile of warm, clean, nuzzly laundry to fold at my leisure.

The harsh reality hits in the real world.

I washed my clothes at a nearby Laundromat a couple of times before I realized that this just couldn’t continue for the sake of my livelihood: it can cost me anywhere between 8€-16€ for the washers alone, depending on how much I bring in that day. The dryers cost 1€ for every 10 minutes.

Have I managed to stress yet that I live on the sixth floor without an elevator?

In an attempt to save a little cash, the last time I washed my clothes, I brought them to a friend’s apartment that came equipped with a washer. This proved effective in the cash-saving department, though it did take a bit longer than usual, being only one small washer that somehow took 1.5 hours to wash anything, and I had two loads. I ended up taking my damp clothes back with me to my part of the city, and sitting in my local Laundromat for an extra 30 minutes, just to get that nuzzly, warm laundry feeling I crave. So far, this seemed like a manageable option.

As the end of this week began to draw near, I realized with dread that my laundry pile was growing under my bed again, and spring break was looming. Could I possibly skip over to my friend’s house again to wash enough clothes to get me through my ski trip?

Alas, I realized that because the time when my account would be replenished back in the states was also drawing near, I did not have a significant enough amount of money left to withdraw into cash. I could use my debit card if necessary, but for anything coin operated, such as dryers and even (ulp) metro tickets, I was strictly barred.

What to do??

Necessity reined. Let me refer back to where I started.

Today, I decided to hand wash my clothes.

I went to my local supermarket, in this case being a Monoprix (I could write a whole page based on how much I love this place, but maybe another time). I needed to buy a recharge card for my cell phone and a bit more food to get me through the end of the week anyway. I picked up a box of textile-hand-washing-powdery-soap.

Trying to look towards the optimistic side of life, I thought to myself,

“This will be fun! I can wash some clothes in my sink, and I have the whole afternoon to do it! It costs less than just the dryer would, so it has to be better!”

Humming merrily to myself, I set about other cleaning tasks while my clothes were soaking. I swept and washed the floor, as well as disinfecting the countertop and other surfaces. A feeling of great productivity was coursing through me.

My resolve slowly deteriorated after the third sink-load or so.

Sure, the actual washing was a cinch. It was a non-rubbing wash, whatever that means, so I didn’t have to pound away at my clothes with a rock or anything. By the time I drained the sink and rinsed the soap out of my clothes, I was left with the task of wringing everything out and hanging things to dry.

By the third load, my hands were stinging from all the wringing (yes, I am a rhyming genius). I was also running out of places to hang my clothes. The towel rack was full, as was the shower, along with the hangers in the closet, my curtain-rods, and my socks laid carefully over a towel on the counter. Towels lay on surfaces everywhere to catch the drips, and every few minutes or so, I took something down to give it an extra wring in the sink. I washed five sink-loads of clothes, and that was only what was necessary. The rest of my laundry awaits under my bed.

Now I lie scrunched up on my bed with my computer in the dark before going to sleep, listening to the almost sinister drip, drip, drip…

But hey, with luck, everything may be dry by the end of the week…

À Bientôt! 

The Hot Plate

Since eating out in Paris is ridiculously expensive, I am for the most part confined to the means provided for me in my room to eat: a mini fridge and a hot plate. The fridge is even more mini than the one I keep back at school, but I’ve managed to keep it appropriately stocked. The hot plate has given me some grief though.

To start with, it didn’t even work. Actually that’s an understatement. It didn’t work so much that it blew a fuse in my room. The first time I turned it on that first week here, all the lights instantly went out. With the help of a neighbor, we called the guy we talk to concerning rent and the like, and had him come over to check out the problem. I do have a fuse box in my room, I just wasn’t flicking the switch hard enough >.<

After a few tries, my first hot plate was deemed defective and the guy brought over a new one to replace it. I haven’t had technical problems with the new one thus far (except the light doesn’t work so I have to be mindful about whether it’s on or off without a visual queue).

Still. It’s just one hot plate. For someone who likes to cook, this feels pretty limiting. I wish I had an oven, or a microwave even. I’d take just one more hot plate so I could cook multiple parts of my meals at once. Just another three months of this and I’ll be back to living large – microwave style.

I have managed to learn to make rice without a rice cooker on my own, a huge achievement. I’ve made mashed potatoes a few times too. I’m not doing too badly.

Also, since I started eating gyros (not too often, they’re 4,50€ each, and that is a picture I took this time) and pre-made sub sandwiches from the supermarket, I have discovered (da da da DAA) I like tomatoes in my sandwiches. I NEVER used to eat uncooked tomatoes. Ever. I used to even say to myself the last time I was here, four years ago,

“They can make me eat anything here in France, but they can’t make me eat a tomato.”

Evidently they can.

Also, I used to dislike mayonnaise. Mayo in the U.S. doesn’t taste bad to me; I just don’t want it much.

French mayo is delicious – there’s Dijon mustard in it. I loved the sandwiches with mayo so much; I even went out and bought some.

That’s right. IT CAN COME IN A TUBE.

So now I’m making my own tomato, lettuce, and whatever sandwiches. (Chicken for now.) Nom nom nom.

It’s raining today, and according to the internet it will be for the next week, and it’s cold again. Joy. It’s times like these when I wish I had brought at least one hoodie just for when I’m in my room. Also, they DO wear jeans here. I miss those too. (Granted most of the girls seem to wear only skinny jeans). It would have been a good idea to bring my old, beat up sneakers as well. Though yes, my family was right, they don’t wear them around in general, but if you are playing a sport like I do, or if you jog, you do wear very American looking running sneakers. My converses don’t really cut it for running around a track every Monday night.

Enough griping from me. I can live with it. Paris on the whole is really cool and if sightseeing, gorgeous. A country mouse adjusting to a city would be difficult anywhere I imagine.

On a plus note, my French is getting better! At least, I have noticed that I have a better reaction time. It took me a couple of weeks to get used to hearing French everywhere in public, and though my oral comprehension is improving slowly, I do respond faster. I was barely stringing my words together when I got here, mostly due to lack of practice and nerves. Speaking French around the house to my Anglophone family is miles away from speaking to a native Francophone. At least now I have gained a bit of confidence.

Only one week left until Spring Break – I’m going skiing in the Alps with a group of students, and I am very excited.

À Bientôt!