"If you are lucky enough to have lived in Paris as a young man, then wherever you go for the rest of your life, it stays with you, for all of Paris is a moveable feast." -Ernest Hemingway

Friday, May 28, 2010

Full Circle

This is really weird. Just thinking about the fact that I'm going to be in the States tomorrow night. Today was a nice and mellow, yet also epic, last full day in Paris, before the shuttle comes to pick me up at noon tomorrow. It was oddly fitting, if you reread my first post from when I moved into Beatrice's. I remember desperately wanting to play with the kids, yet feeling really awkward speaking French to them. But this morning Beatrice left me with the kids again, and I played with them alone for about an hour or so. All day, while I was in and out of the house packing and buying gifts, the kids would run in and out of my room, using it as the most epic spot to hide in for hide and go seek. Right before my last dinner with the fam, Beatrice's son (whom I met earlier this semester, at the dinner party she held) and I chatted, and I also unusually ran into every one of her neighbors and relatives today. It's as if everything has come full circle. I'm serious when I say that today I ran into every single person that I've met over the course of the semester through Beatrice. Her house is like a revolving door, there are constantly people staying the night, or children staying the week. I'm going to miss this so much. I told Beatrice (along with her sister and the cleaning lady) that I'm planning on returning after graduation, and she made me promise that I'll call her when I do--I can even stay here again if I'd like. She has a heart of gold.

I also had my last meal at L'As--unfortunately it was pouring and my friend (the same guy who always serves me multiple times a week--we're BFFs now) didn't serve me my last pita of falafel, but we ate inside instead. It was also my last night at the Frat, and instead of leaving really early to catch the metro, I splurged on a taxi, which I was grateful for because it drove us by the Arc du Triomphe and the unlit Eiffel Tower--that's when I realized that it's going to be at least a year before I see this place again. But I'm telling myself that I'm for sure going to return--it's the only thing that's keeping me from ultimately freaking out.

I don't want to say goodbye yet, but I guess I should. It's only fitting, right? Thank you for reading so far, but it turns out that this blog was more for me than I could have imagined. I wonder what my blog for Florence would have been like. Certainly not like this one. There are too many lasts right now for me to handle. And a last blog post is definitely not something that I want to think about at the moment, but I guess this is it. My bags are packed and my room is bare. Tomorrow I'm perhaps leaving Beatrice's forever. But let's not talk about that. Or think about that. Lets think about the fact that this semester was one of the most amazing semesters of my life, and that as soon as I touch US soil I will be counting down until I can eat a real croissant and go to museums and speak French and drink café crèmes all day long. Maybe I'll never get to do that again, but shh, let's just pretend for now...

Sunday, May 23, 2010

New places, favorite haunts, and to-do lists

It's the final countdown. I'm leaving Beatrice's (and Paris--both I think equally hard) in only five days, boarding a plan on Friday evening. In a way I'm getting anxious to leave already, only because the goodbyes to both Paris and to my friends have been long and many--I just want to get it over with. Kind of. I've taken advantage of finally being free from school and the amazing weather (the closest we've come to spring this entire month) and haven't been in my apartment for more than a few hours at a time. After saying goodbye to Meaghan and Alena, it's only Amelie, Maria, and me that remain, and we've been revisiting our favorite places in Paris (L'As, the Marais) as well as crossing off things that we have yet to see (various parks, museums). I've been hesitant about breaking out my camera (known to all as Betty) these last few days, and I've finally realized why: I don't want to think of it as my last week living in Paris, my last week to take pictures of my life here--I'm making sure, in a way, that I'm going to return.

Last week British Airways emailed about the possible strike that their crew is threatening to have--well, it looks like they're having it. Every flight from Paris to Boston on Friday has been cancelled except for mine. How's that for fate, or luck, or what have you? I guess I'm meant to leave after all. I've been saying to my parents this entire semester that I'm going to return, and I've asked as many people as possible to describe their expat lives here in Paris, but while writing this post I'm only a mere 80% sure that I'll actually live here after graduation. That might sound like a lot, but I need some definite answers to cling to as I board my plane to the States. There are a lot of options for me to choose from--there's being an au pair, there's working for NYU, there's getting my masters at the University of Paris...I've done my research. But the thought of leaving again for not a semester, but possibly years, is daunting. I'm thinking too far ahead. Hell, I don't even know what I'm doing this summer!

I went to Amsterdam with Amelie and Maria on Tuesday morning, and we returned to Paris Thursday night. It was amazing. I had the best pad thai in the entire world, ate a warm belgian waffle covered in chocolate, actually had to pay for my water at restaurants (I forgot that not everywhere is it illegal to refuse to give people tap water--it makes me love France and the US), bought tulips at the flower market, drank ICED coffee to go (both ice and "to go" are foreign concepts in France), went into every single cute bookstore we saw, went vintage shopping (something that I never do in New York but actually liked here), napped in the park under the sun, went to the Anne Frank house, paid the vultures at the Van Gogh museum a whole 14 euro to get in, and pretty much walked around the entire city. One thing that I refused to do though: ride a bike. You know me and bikes--I love them. I rode one for five days. I rode my bike with Ece in New York a couple times last semester. But I absolutely hated the bikers in Amsterdam. Never in a city have I felt so unwanted as a pedestrian. That might sound weird to people who have never been there, but you can pretty much walk the entire place, and yet I never knew if a sidewalk was really a street or a bike path or whatnot, and I was constantly in danger of getting run over by bikes or cars or trams. Every time I heard that little bell behind me coming from the biker, I wanted to throw that person off their bike. The first day I had no doubt that I would get run over on that trip. By day three I stopped looking before I crossed the street because I wanted to take back my pedestrian pride that I've gained in both New York and in Paris. I'm used to getting the right-of-way--taxis hate me in New York for demanding that right. But in Amsterdam, it felt like the bikers were an infestation. Of course I'm being overdramatic, but that's just why I stubbornly refused to ride a bike, something that everyone says you have to do if you visit.

The city is beautiful, though. I'll give it that. Amelie and I figured out how to describe it in two ways: the first is that every street looks like it could be Main Street of a small New England town. The second is that it takes all the perfect, quaint parts of Boston and puts them into one city. It's quaint but metropolitan. And the people there are just freakishly nice. Of course I loved it, and I had to admit that it was a drastic change from Parisians, but as Amelie and Maria were reveling in their kindness, I felt like I had to stick up for the French. Sure, they're not as bubbly as the Dutch, or smile as much, and they don't do as many outward acts of kindness to strangers, especially tourists, but that's just their charm. They're fun and combative and you have to get in their good graces. It's like the differences between Northerners and Southerners. Being a proud Northerner, you see why I'd choose the Parisians. But I want someone to live in Amsterdam so that while I'm in Paris I can go visit--I loved it enough that I'd definitely go back.

Sunday, May 16, 2010

A lack of mimes, but plenty of duck

So. The program ended Thursday afternoon, somewhat anti-climatically after my last final, and then my friends and I had an amazing pre-goodbye dinner on Thursday evening at a fancy French restaurant, in which I ordered amazing escargot, duck, and apple crumble. Meaghan is leaving Tuesday morning, so we've been pretty much planning every single meal we're going to have until then--i.e. going to all the restaurants we've been meaning to go to all semester but for some reason never went to, along with David Lebovitz's newest recommendations. So far we've had delicious couscous at a Moroccan restaurant, the most fabulous duck confit you've ever dreamed of at a Southeastern French rotisserie, the best scrambled eggs in the world (seriously, you will never find better scrambled eggs until you come to France--no exaggeration), true French brunch, warm and authentic crêpes from a street-cart on rue Mouffetard, the freshest salad with loads of eggplant and avocado, and of course, lots of wine.

This week was probably the most relaxing finals week I've ever had in my college career. Having that week of hell (before spring break) literally paid off, because I was not stressed out in the slightest. Sure, I had a lot of final exams, but they seemed to be a lot easier than my final papers and projects and things that were due weeks before. Wednesday night was the last Wine Wednesday, as well as Beatrice's birthday (unfortunately we didn't know until that night! She's 67!) and our last dinner with her. It was fun because her grandchildren and her daughter were there (as usual), as well as her sister (who lives in the same building) and her neighbors. She made quiches, there were lots of cakes, and then everyone just hung out and talked afterwards. I've been told multiple times this semester (something that I learned) that I can't keep my thoughts from showing on my face, so I tried extremely hard to not look as confused as I felt, because they were all talking so fast and I was extremely tired from finals and wanting to leave to go to Wine Wednesday, but I'm glad I stayed. My listening comprehension, as horrible as it was when I arrived, has definitely gotten better while being with Beatrice. But then after everyone left I ran to Wine Wednesday, which has turned into watching Glee and drinking wine during certain parts of the show. Fun times. Sad times too, since it was the last one before New York (where the tradition will obviously continue). Thursday, like I said, was the last day of the program and our fancy dinner, and then Friday we went to the Museum of Natural History and saw a lot of animals with two heads in jars, as well as other creatures and bones. It was overwhelming, disgusting, and fascinating, all at the same time. There are still a lot of museums I need to cross off my list before I leave, but I'll probably get to those next week. When Meaghan leaves on Tuesday we're going to Amsterdam for three days, and then coming back on Thursday night to say goodbye to Alena and then I have about a week left in Paris--it's going to fly by! The weather I swear has gone from winter to spring (still not quite summer) in the past two days, but watch, I just jinxed it. Watch it snow tomorrow because of me.

I'm sorry I keep talking about the kids at Beatrice's, but seriously, I need to talk about Alix. I want to take her back to America with me. I'm not kidding. I walk in now and her face lights up and she just follows me to my room (walking now, along with the random dogs hanging out in the apartment--Beatrice has started babysitting animals as well as children) and plays with me in my room. She's adorable. And the sounds she makes are so interesting because they're not the same sounds that an American baby makes. Beatrice walked into the living room and wondered where everyone was, and then she saw that they were all in my room, hanging out on my bed. And ever since our last dinner I've been talking with Beatrice's grandchildren a lot more--I guess the fact that Julia left Friday and I'm leaving in two weeks makes us realize that we should be comfortable with each other by now.

I bought a Mini Diana + camera last week (a fun toy film camera) and I've been playing with it the past few days. Just ran out of my first roll today, so I'm excited to get it developed on Monday--let's hope the pictures actually turn out and I can post them here. In other news, tonight (Saturday) was Night at the Museum in Paris, in which most of the museums were free and open to the public until 1am, with ballet and music and mimes and things. I got to cross off the Orangerie off my list (Monet's Water Lilies, among others--so cool! Monet apparently designed his room himself), but we arrived too late for the mimes. Boo. I want to see at least one before I leave. And gypsies dressed in stripes don't count.

Sunday, May 9, 2010

Is the program really almost over?

Final thoughts and memories before this week actually ends:
1. That first night in the FIAP, getting sent off in groups to go buy our phones and metrocards and meeting Emily (Amelie) for the first time.
2. Sitting at dinner at the FIAP with people I didn't realize at the time would become part of the Wine Wednesday crowd.
3. That first night out in Paris, getting a glass of wine at the restaurant near the FIAP, getting to know each other.
4. My first ride on the metro at night, hearing a man playing the soundtrack to Amelie on an accordion and realizing I was actually in Paris.
5. Going on a scavenger hunt in Passy during orientation, getting completely lost and taking some of the most awkward pictures.
6. Our first opera, which lasted for five hours and had an entire scene in which people, dressed in bunny costumes, came out and humped onstage for fifteen minutes.
7. Standing in the incredibly long line at L'As every Sunday afternoon, talking about the night before and salivating just thinking about the falafel we were about to consume.
8. Going to "The Yellow Place" (it just has a yellow banner, we never know what the name actually is) next to school every single day during the preliminary course to the point where we couldn't look at a baguette for days and couldn't imagine going back there...until we realized they sold amazing quiche.
9. Reading Oscar Wilde in the Luxembourg Gardens.
10. Discovering that French guys absolutely cannot dance (but dance hilariously), therefore taking dancing to a whole new level (i.e. imitating their dance moves). I don't think I want to/can dance any other way anymore.
11. Talking about David Lebovitz to the point where we've become worshippers (but not so much anymore, after we found out he dissed someone we love).
12. Becoming groupies to three certain staff members.
13. Learning the hard way that French guys look a lot older than they actually are.
14. Going to the Frat (Emily, Sara, and Maria's apartment) so much that it's literally a second home.
15. Meeting Beatrice for the first time, in which she served us macarons, orange juice, and cookies and introduced us to her grandchildren. We knew right then and there that she was going to be amazing.
16. Having our first picnic on the first beautiful day of spring after class.
17. Eating amazing brunch and digesting all that food while sitting along the canal, talking and people watching.
18. Buying a Petite Recolte (type of wine) and drinking it while watching Glee.
19. That first Wine Wednesday, that first Dinner Party, and that first Dinner With Beatrice. All my best memories are centered around food.
20. Realizing how loud we were in the beginning of the semester when we actually told our visitors to be quieter on the metro (Americans are really the loudest).
21. Speaking in British accents on the metro so that people don't think we're stupid Americans.
22. Becoming so close to each other that saying goodbye for our two week spring break was actually hard.
23. Going to the most amazing chocolate place in Paris, meeting Denise Acabo, and telling her how much we love David Lebovitz.
24. Realizing that I don't look as American as I used to (doe-eyed, among other things) when I sat across from some English-speaking people on the metro and they thought I was French.
25. Loving and learning to appreciate the brusque-ness of Parisians when they respect you for arguing and standing up for yourself (something that I've learned to do here), while if you did the same thing in New York you'd just get beat up.
26. Seeing the Eiffel Tower's light show (the finale, at 1am) from someone's balcony.
27. Learning to get our money's worth at NYU by taking any free food they offer, or cutlery they have. Best example: walking away with a trash bag full of soft baguettes and a platter full of cheese, only to make some pretty good fondue later that night with our spoils.
28. Sitting in the Champs de Mars (under the Tour Eiffel) speaking in gibberish to the gypsies who come by asking, "Speak English?"
29. Drinking a panaché under the sun by the harbor in Île de Ré.
30. Learning who makes the best frites (fries), croque monsieur, or the different types of steak (entrecôte, aligot).
31. Being able to drink good wine for under three euro.
32. Sitting for hours chatting and digesting, never being bothered by the waiter to leave.
33. Not having to deal with tax or tip in restaurants.
34. People watching while drinking a café crème (Parisians don't do café au lait) in the oldest café in Paris.
35. Sitting down and planning every single meal for our last week so that we miss out on absolutely nothing.
36. Running around the city on National Macaron Day in order to receive our free macarons.
37. Thinking Wheelie Baby was an absolute menace, only to have Amelie come over and meet her and show me that she is the cutest baby in the entire world.
38. Seeing Alix (Wheelie Baby's real name) learn how to walk. Seeing her face light up every time we walked through the apartment door.
39. Holding Cabbage Patch Baby (don't know his real name, but he's also known as Kitchen Baby, because she sometimes puts him in the kitchen to nap) and playing with him, realizing that he's actually cute.
40. Appreciating the fast-paced, yet joie de vivre that Parisians know how to experience.

Tuesday, May 4, 2010

Le dernier mois

Salut! I feel bad leaving you with such a long post that I'll try to keep up with shorter ones as the time I'm here comes to a close. One more month. I can't believe it. And I only have two more weeks with NYU--I'm staying with Emily at her apartment for the last two weeks of May. It only hit me this morning that it'll be summer so soon, I feel like normally the start of summer means going home. Not this time. The next two weeks are filled with finals, field trips, goodbye "mandatory" garden parties, wine and cheese at profs houses, last meals with Beatrice, a final Wine Wednesday (until New York), goodbyes (even though it feels like we're still saying hello), and...moving out of Beatrice's. That last one might be the hardest.

It feels really weird. Last year, I was counting down the days until I was flying home to the States. This time, I'm still not ready. Last year, I cherished and missed everything that was American. This time, not so much. The only thing I miss is a big mug of tea, and that can merely be solved by getting my lazy self over to IKEA. But we'll see. Perhaps once I'm forced to accept that this program is, in fact, ending, will I be ready to leave Beatrice's. And maybe once I've eaten L'As falafel so much that I can't stand to look at it will I be ready to leave Paris. There are still so many things I want to do, parts of neighborhoods I still need to discover. We'll see if I'll ever be content enough to leave. Maybe there'll be another volcano...I kid, I kid. There are certain things that I'm excited about--I'm just not letting myself think about them until perhaps minutes before my flight home.

Also, I feel like I don't talk about Beatrice enough. If, while reading this, you slightly disagree, just ask one of my friends here and they'll tell you that we talk about Beatrice constantly. Always good things of course. She said a gem Sunday night at dinner: she felt really bad (as well as amazed and proud) that I did my biking trip by myself, like I didn't have anyone to go on spring break with. But I assured her that yes, I did have many options (I even turned down an invitation to Ghana...let's just be real here), but I wanted to do it by myself. And then she said that if Natty's flight had been cancelled because of the volcanic mess and/or if she had known I was going by myself on my bike trip, she would have invited me to her country house in Bretagne (that would have been fun, but honestly I needed a break from the kids). She is too cute. She also came back from Bretagne with personalized bowls for Julia and I, as well as another bag of the cookies she brought back last time. I'm going to miss her. When (not if) I come back to Paris, my first stop, mark my words, will be to head on over to 56 blvd Beausejour.