catacombs, cemeteries, the sixth sense, and more

When my mom told people I was going to be studying abroad in Paris, a lot of people were surprised and confused. And it's not like she was really able to answer their questions, especially since I just studied abroad last year and who really knows if my concentration has anything to do with France. And if you look at the classes I'm taking this semester, you'll be even more confused. I'm taking classes on things that are so out of my element, and (as far as I know) are so far from my Gallatin concentration, whatever that might be. I do know that my concentration has something to do with "the Arts," although who really knows what that means, considering the fact that I'm reading texts on philosophy, policy, economics, and politics. I still shudder at the idea of these topics (although less at philosophy now), but it's been surprisingly interesting learning about these things from a European perspective--it kind of adds a more interesting light on things that are so boring to me in the States. But enough on that now.

This weekend, if you think about it, has been a "death-filled" one. It may sound morbid and horrible, but it was pretty successful. After a mandatory and slightly boring field trip for class to the new Immigration Museum on Friday, I went to the Catacombs, which were so cool and so incredibly creepy.  I didn't bring my camera, unfortunately, because it was an unplanned trip on my part, but here's a picture from Wikipedia:

It's this underground city, where they stacked the bones of people that they had to dig up to make room for the city's expansion and the growing population (i.e. the higher number of people dead). It's been a tourist attraction since the 19th century, and it took 45 minutes to walk through. You just see rows and rows of stacked bones and they aligned the skulls in certain ways to make patterns (like a heart, or the outline of a church, etc). It felt spooky and disrespectful in a way. But cool. In the beginning I didn't want to add pictures to this blog, but the pictures of this place are so unbelievable.

Then Saturday we continued the death-filled weekend by going to the Cimetiere du Pere-Lachaise (my accents aren't working today for some reason), which is that famous cemetery where everyone is buried, particularly Oscar Wilde and Jim Morrison (remember that episode on the first season of ANTM, when Adrianne tried going there?). It's incredibly huge and eerily beautiful, and we literally spent the entire day there, up until the guard yelled at us to leave. I was able to find Sarah Bernhardt, Edith Piaf, Victor Noir, Moliere, and a few others. The picture is Alena and I kissing Oscar Wilde's grave (we brought lipstick for the occasion).

Oh, and to cap off the death-weekend, we even watched the Sixth Sense Saturday night--in French! I don't even think it was a conscious decision to make that the theme...

I can't believe it's almost the end of February. I've been here for a little more than a month, yet it feels like we only have a little bit of time left. During dinner with Beatrice last Thursday we were talking about that, and she commented on how much our French had improved. I'm really going to miss her, she's so incredibly cute. I can actually have full-on conversations with her, and they're no longer restricted to the dinner table. Although sometimes the screaming babies are too much after a long day of classes, the kids are getting braver and we play with them now. Beatrice is gone for the week, I think to her country house, but it's weird not having a full house anymore. She even left us two dinners in the fridge because she said she wanted to keep her promise of two dinners a week. And on the phone, she calls us her "American daughters." I don't want to leave!