1 down. 8 to go.

(Warning: super long post dead ahead)

Today makes 1 month since I've been in Paris.

1 whole month. I can hardly believe that. It's strange, but it feels both like I've been here forever & like I just got here yesterday afternoon. So much has happened. I've seen so many things. I've met so many awesome people. Yet, to quote Steve Miller: Time keeps on slippin' (slippin' slippin') into the future. I'm 1/9th of the way through my time in Paris. Let's hope the next 9th goes as well as the first.

A lot has happened in the last week. I celebrated my birthday on friday, saw some sights over the weekend, trudged my way through classes during the week, and even had a couple interviews sprinkled in here and there.

First up: 21 Jump Street

Friday was my birthday, y'all. 21 years old. Woot. Going into this day, I had been thinking about how being in Europe does two things to a 21st birthday: 1. It pretty much negates the coolness this birthday has in the states, as no one really cares how old you are in France -- anyone can drink. But 2. It makes it sooo much cooler, as you can say to all your friends, "Hey, you stumbled around Chicago on your birthday? Well, I stumbled around Europe on mine." Right?

Anyway, after a pretty mediocre day, I met up with a group of IES friends at the Oberkampf stop on the Métro. We found a nice establishment at which to spend the evening. After a few hours of shenanigans, we decided that we really wanted to go watch the live broadcast of the presidential debate. With the time difference, it started at 3 am in Paris. So we found our way to the pub down by the Louvre which had advertised the debate. It was pretty crowded with fellow Americans and Europeans interested in politics. It was definitely an interesting experience. It was pretty clear that the crowd in the pub leaned way to the left, cheering Obama on and laughing off McCain's comments. But I had a great time. It was exactly what I needed.

That weekend, I decided to do some serious sight-seeing. On saturday, I met up with Caroline & Monica from IES (as well as Monica's sister, Melissa, and her friend from the U of Chicago group in Paris) for a trip to the Conciergerie and Ste. Chappelle. They're both located in the Palais de Justice on Île de la Cité. The Conciergerie is a former prison, acting as the final stop before execution for many unfortunate French convicts, including Marie Antoinette. The museum has done a very good job maintaining the feel of the prison, even mocking up cells with creepy mannequins.

Next, we headed over to Ste. Chappelle, a beautiful church renowned for its gorgeous stained glass. There are two main chapels in the church -- one on each of its two levels. The lower level doesn't have any stained glass, but its painted walls and arches are definitely impressive. The upper level is the real knockout. When you step out from the staircase tucked in the corner of the room, the huge stained glass windows lining the walls are almost too much to take in at once. Incredible. There are chairs along the perimeter of the room, allowing tourists to sit and gaze at whichever side the sunlight happens to be filtering through. It really is an amazing sight. 

In my eyes, the only real fault of Ste. Chappelle is the fact that it is no longer a real church. It is simply a pretty tourist attraction. On the lower level, instead of pews or even any type of seating, you are greeted with a long bank of stalls selling books, pictures, postcards, etc. It's purely commercial. It's sad, but at least the building is being maintained and protected.

On sunday, I decided to take advantage of the nice weather and made the long trek out to the Château de Versailles. To get there, I had to take the RER (a train mainly used for Paris' suburbs, like Chicago's Metra). After the hour+ trip, I stepped off the train and walked up to the château, about 10 minutes from the station. I waited in the ticket line, then toured the palace, opting to forego the headsets offering a detailed tour. I figured I could appreciate the palace without them. Man, Versailles is beautiful. Very epic. The rooms are meticulously kept, and the art is astounding. One downfall: There is an exhibition running through December of work by Jeff Koons, a contemporary American artist. His stuff is pretty cool, and I could definitely see myself enjoying it maybe in a modern art gallery. But it just feels out of place in Versailles. The palace is very well put together, and in the style of classicist art, it is complete. Adding to or taking away from the palace throws it off. So needless to say, I didn't enjoy most of the huge balloon sculptures or wooden statues sprinkled around the château. It kind of felt like theft. I won't even mention the statue titled, "Michael Jackson and Bubbles." Seriously...

However, stepping outside the walls of the château, the huge gardens were incredible. I only scratched the surface of the Jardin, but it was a moving experience. The fountains, the manicured trees and plants, the paths, the canal, the birds in flight all around, the setting sun. It was perfect. Like the stained glass at Ste. Chappelle, it was almost too much beauty to handle. It's certainly too much to faithfully describe in words, or capture in a photograph. I definitely plan on returning soon to do some exploring.

The rest of the week was split between classes, meetings, and a few outings. Classes are all still going pretty well. They're picking up, as we're moving past the introductory stage, but they're only getting more interesting. I've noticed that the number of students is dwindling in the more difficult courses. Naturally. On monday, I found out my official placement for my internship this year. I will be working with an association called "Ni Putes Ni Soumises" --translated as "Neither Whores Nor Submissives" -- in the international section. It's an activist organization that works to counter violence against women, and to promote gender equality. I don't know exactly what my job will entail, but it will be an eye-opening year, for sure. I'll let you know more as I find out.

On wednesday night, Caroline and I took advantage of the free theatre tickets at the IES office, going to see a play called "La Folle Allure." It was a one-woman show. In French. So it was pretty strange. But well done. I guess. It was tough to understand a lot of it, but I got the gist of the story. The actress was definitely skilled, not to mention a real gymnast. At several points in the show, she suspended herself (sometimes with one leg, sometimes just a hand) from a metal swing set bar. Let's just say she was upside down a lot. Gotta love the French.

Friday, I had a meeting with the director of IES to talk about the Arabic class we're still looking for. If I can't find one in the end, I plan on taking a religious studies class at the Institut Catholique de Paris. We'll see how that turns out. Afterward, I met up with Caroline, Monica, and Melissa once more for a bit of touristic fun. We decided to head to the Louvre, using our awesome cartes louvre jeunes to gain free access to the museum. As it happened, we chose the right night to go. There were actors and musicians sprinkled about the wing we found ourselves in. Dressed in black or white, the actors gave monologues and duets about particular paintings or artists featured in the rooms. It was a very cool -- and very French -- way to learn a little bit of art history. So classy.

Today, I've just been chilling at home, watching videos of the debates. Interesting stuff, I tell you. Really, I'm just resting up before the big celebration tonight: Paris' Nuit Blanche 2008. It's the all-night cultural festival that inspired Chicago's Looptopia. From sunset to sunrise, the city will be host to musicians, artists, filmmakers, and speakers from around the world. There's so much to do, I don't have a clue where to start. I guess I'm just going to play it by ear. I'll definitely fill you in.

And finally, Love It or Leave It.

Reason to Love It: The cheese. I love it all, but chevre (goat) is my favorite. Delicious...

Reason to Leave It: The French idea of "customer service." Sometimes I'd just like a waiter at a restaurant to be... uh, nice to me, you know?

Happy Travels

-- Cody

Photos galore

Hey.

I discovered Picasa Web Albums today. It's way less complicated than what I was using before, and it has a much larger capacity. So I'll be using Picasa from now on. You can find the links to all my pictures to the left, under Mes Photos.

Enjoy
-- Cody

Call me a chameleon...

Greetings from the land of cheese, baguettes, and mimes. Oh, and berets. And wine. And Gerard Depardieu -- can't forget him. Well, I guess one could say that France is known for many things. Though surprisingly, that classic "French laugh" that we all know and love (you know: hon hon hon!) doesn't really exist here. Le shocking. And I guess the French don't necessarily appreciate the stereotype, either. Whoops.

I've finished my first week of classes. Generally interesting, midly frustrating, and most certainly tiring, my courses cover a pretty broad range of subjects. My first course of the week is my internship seminar, which doesn't actually start until the week after next. So for now, I've got a hole in my schedule. My first real class is Traduction (Translation). I can already tell this is going to be difficult. It's tough trying to translate idioms and very specific turns of phrase from my native English into my not-so-native French, but I am bound to learn a lot from it. The next course on my academic menu is called Questions d'esthétique, or Questions of Aesthetics. Depsite having to study 18th century operas, I enjoy this class immensely. Our professor is very knowledgeable, entertaining, and not too difficult to understand. And finally, there is my course on Institutions et vie politique de l'Union Européenne (Institutions and political life of the European Union). My professor is an energetic, young Italian man with an Italian accent to match. His is probably my toughest course. I've only studied a small bit of political science and economy at DePaul, so I've got my work cut out for me. But this is also probably my most important course in terms of relevancy, as A) I'm currently living in the European Union, and B) France currently holds the presidency of said union.

I've heard a lot of other students grumbling about their professors or courses in general, which is normal at any school, but I don't really see their reasons. Ok, I admit that some lectures might be a bit disorganized, but that has pretty much been my whole experience with this trip. Everything seems a bit vague, a touch last-minute-ish. So I've made the necessary adjustments and continue on with life. It's all a question of adaptability. Some of you may know that I pride myself on being adaptable. Call me a chameleon.

Speaking of adjustments, I've noticed that it's getting a whole lot easier for me to comprehend large amounts of the French language all at once. Class lectures aren't quite as mentally taxing as they once were. Newspapers don't look quite as much like minefields of unknown words as they used to. And my host family doesn't have to slow down their speech quite as much anymore (I think). While I am by no means fluent, it's definitely getting easier. All this suggests to me that total immersion in a language really does breed understanding. Which makes me very happy that I chose to study here for a whole year.

Apart from my classes, this week has been decent. I've gone on a couple outings, shared meals with good friends, and gotten to know the city a little better. Last night, returning from yet another trip to Place St. Michel for dinner, my friends and I stopped to watch a dance group on the sidewalk. They had set up shop right next to a Métro station, drawing a formidable crowd. They were supposedly "break dancers," but I wasn't too terribly impressed. A couple of them were very good. Literally, only a couple. The rest (all 5 or 6 of them) had dance moves only slightly more complex than if I were to become their choreographer. Still, they entertained the crowd, so they've got something going for them. We didn't stick around too long, wisely slipping down the stairs to the Métro just before the dancer holding his upside-down hat could ask us for money. I would feel bad if the dollar were a bit stronger. Maybe.

And now on to a new segment in my blog I like to call, "Love It or Leave It." Here, I will give one reason for which I adore Paris, and one for which I might find myself tempted to leave this city. I'll try to do this as often as I can. It might be interesting to see how my opinions change throughout the year. I guess we'll have to wait and see.

Anyway, here it is: Love It or Leave It.

Reason to Love It: All the random musicians in the Métro. Guitars, accordions, mandolins, harps, keyboards -- you name it, I've seen it played on a train or in a station.

Reason to Leave It: Feeling so out of the loop concerning American politics and news in general. Yeah, I usually complain about the petty arguments in campaign ads at home. And yeah, I find local news reports tiresome and depressing most of the time. But damn it, I miss it all.

(ok, I know I can read the news online and whatnot, but it's just not the same...)

With that, I bid you adieu.

Happy Travels
-- Cody

Wesh, mon frère

Creepy, huh?

Well apparently, the catacombes underneath Paris hold the bones of millions of people. That's a lot of skeletons. And nightmares. Like I said: creepy. I thought it was a very interesting part of French history, but I definitely would not advise those with weak constitutions to venture down into the skull-lined tunnels. If you enjoy morbid quotes, however, I strongly recommend a visit. There are plaques all around the tunnels with sayings from several authors. Here's one of my favorites:

"Pensez le matin que vous n'irez peut être pas jusques au soir et au soir que vous n'irez peut être pas jusques au matin."

or:

"Think in the morning that you might not make it to the night, and at night that you might not make it to morning."


I made the trip to the "empire of the dead" this past Thursday with a friend of mine from class. We had already eaten lunch, but I still had a couple hours to kill before my academic meeting with the IES director. So knowing the catacombs were only about 5 or 10 minutes from the IES center, I suggested a trip.

This is pretty much how the past week has gone for me. With my days of free time slowly slipping away before the start of classes, I tried to get out more and see the city. I've probably been down to Place St. Michel and the surrounding district four or five times now, but it's just such an interesting area. My host father told me he wasn't surprised. He said it's kind of like Picadilly Circus in London, only better (because it's in Paris?). Place St. Michel has a great big fountain and lots of pubs and restaurants that tourists adore. It also happens to be located in the famous Latin Quarter. So you can't go wrong with a visit here.

On Friday, all the IES students and staff met for an official welcome lunch at the Eiffel Tower. It's really hard to describe in words or capture in a picture just how huge the tower is. It's incredibly impressive. I had seen it off in the distance many times since I arrived in Paris, but I waited to actually visit there until the welcome lunch. And I'm definitely glad I chose to do so.

After snapping some obligatory "on top of the world" photos, I headed down to the street with a group of IESers to take a tour of the city on one of those big, red, double-decker buses. It was nice to be able to see so many sights without lifting a foot. Just sit back, relax, and take in the city. Also, the head phones they gave us let us listen to the tour in not only English or French, but also Spanish, Japanese, and Russian. Which always makes things more interesting, right?

Sunday was the "Journée de la Patrimoine" (or something like "Heritage Day"), so just about all the national monuments and museums in Paris were open for touring. I hit up the Place des Vosges, only a 20-30 minute walk from my apartment. There, I visited the home of Victor Hugo, world famous French author. If you've seen the Hunchback of Notre-Dame, you know his work. It was pretty interesting. I mean, it's a house. So I don't know how interesting it can be. Granted, it was in an awesome area of Paris, and Victor Hugo was an amazing author. But I can only handle so many historically-acurate sitting rooms and parlors.

Which must be why I proceeded straight to the Musée Carnavalet, located in an old palace in the Marais district. In case you're wondering, this museum is pretty much the same as the Victor Hugo home, just with fewer pictures of Mr. Hugo, and more portraits of the aristocracy. So needless to say, I didn't stay long. I did, however, manage to take quite a few pictures at both places. And to prove to you that I actually went there, I made it a challenge for me to take as many self-portraits as I could in the many mirrors lining the walls of the museums:

Left: In the Maison de Victor Hugo.

Right: In the Musée Carnavalet

Before my adventures in old-living-room-land, my host brother taught me my new favorite phrase in French: Wesh, mon frère. It's the equivalent of "Yo, my brother" in English. But, as Nathou put it (in French), "If you happened to be in the suburbs in the 80s or 90s, you might have heard people saying this." Apparently, it sounds ridiculous to the French today. Which is why I made a vow to use this expression as often as possible. I greeted the family with a jolly wesh this evening before dinner, and my host mother told me I sounded very French. Score.

I officially started my classes today. Woot woot. My schedule says I should have had my Internship Seminar this morning, but since the internships haven't actually started yet, that was not the case. So after arriving at the IES center nice and early, I found myself with about 2 hours to kill before my only other class. So I sat in the lounge, eating pain au chocolat, drinking apple juice, and reading a Lucky Luke comic book. And let me tell you: Lucky Luke may have been written in the 50s, but it's damn funny. Or at least as funny as a French comic book about a cowboy in the Wild West can be. I finished the tale of Lucky Luke and the bandit Phil Defer, then headed to class. The subject: Questions of Aesthetics, or the Philosophy of Art. It should be pretty darn interesting.

The rest of today, I've just been catching up on some writing -- in my journal, on here, and on some post cards. I'm going to try to hit the hay early tonight, as my Translation course starts at 9 am tomorrow. Oh, and my only other class tomorrow -- Political Life in the European Union -- doesn't start until about 4:00, so let's hope I find something worthwhile to fill my time with.

I'll be putting up some pictures of the past week sometime soon. And yes, there will be more skeletons. And more self-portraits in 18th century mirrors. Stay tuned.

Happy Travels,
-- Cody

Mon Dieu!

Bonjour à tous!

I've officially completed my first full week here in Paris, though it seems like I've been here for much longer. I've begun to settle into the odd little social quirks and ways of doing things here. Life is becoming a bit more comfortable, and it will continue to do so as I grow to understand French culture. Sure, I've had some hang-ups concerning the transfer of moolah from the US to here, and sure, I've had to adapt to the formality of social life, but it hasn't been too bad thus far.

This past week, I began my first course: the propédeutique. Actually, this is only a kind of "pre-course". A form of academic foreplay, if you will. Continuing through this coming thursday, my propédeutique group meets each morning to discuss French grammar, mistakes commonly made by anglophones, and introductory bits of translation. So far, the course has been pretty easy, but definitely helpful. It's a good way to ease into the semester.

I won't actually know my official schedule until this thursday, when I have my academic meeting with my advisor at IES. I will (hopefully) also find out this week if and where I will have an internship for the fall. This is definitely a new feeling for me: being so close to the start of the school year, so deep into the month of September, and still not really having any idea as to what the semester will look like. I guess that's just how they do things here in France. C'est la vie...

As my orientation to IES wraps up, I've toned down the sight-seeing a bit. Earlier in the week, I took a trip up to Montmartre to see the Sacré Cœur (Sacred Heart) Basilica. It's a beautiful domed church at the top of a huge hill in the northern part of the city. The view from the basilica is amazing. You can see almost the entirety of Paris just a few steps from the front doors. Entering those doors, the basilica may not be as breath-taking as Notre Dame, but it is still beautiful. I had the luck to visit during an evening prayer service in which a group of nuns sang their blessed little hearts out. I don't know what it is about them, but I just love nuns. They seem to always make me happy. Then again, that's probably due to the fact that I didn't go to a Catholic grade school. Sitting outside the basilica after the service, I enjoyed an interesting discussion about religion, belief, and blind faith with a new friend of mine from IES. I've only known her for a few days now, but I guess the holy music put us in an open mood.

I continued my holy theme later that week when I found out that Pope Benedict would be coming to Paris on friday and saturday, before heading to Lourdes on sunday. I knew this could possibly be a once in a lifetime experience, so I jumped at the chance to see the visit. Friday afternoon, I headed down to the Île de la Cité to meet Liesse, my host sister. She had staked out a spot with her fellow Catholic university students right alongside the river Seine, just to the south of the Notre Dame cathedral. After waiting a couple hours in the huge crowd that had quickly gathered, we watched the pope as he made his way past us in the "papamobile" (which is freaking sweet), on his way to the cathedral. We had a good spot next to the road, so I'd say I was no more than 15 or 20 feet away when he rode past. Inside the cathedral, Pope Benedict presided over an evening vespers service, broadcast on huge screens placed all around the outside of the cathedral. After that was done, he walked out to the podium placed just outside the front doors, to the roar of the crowds. There he gave an address to the youth of France. Unfortunately for me, he spoke in French. I could understand most of what he said, but the finer points were lost. (Luckily, I found the English translation.) During the speech, I could feel the energy in the crowd, and could tell that the people around me were very moved by his words.

After returning home and having a late meal of soup, cauliflower, cheese, and yogurt with my host mother, I hit the hay. I set my alarm a little later than usual, thinking the outdoor mass the Pope was to preside over was not until saturday night. I planned on eating lunch, then heading down early to try to find a good spot. Well, when I woke up in the morning, my host mother said to me, "Oh, you didn't go see the Pope today?" Naturally, I was confused. She informed me that the Pope's mass was actually that morning. I slept right through it. I was definitely disappointed, but I found consolation in that I got to see his speech the night before.

Today (sunday), I went to my first French mass at St. Eustache. I had been told that the church is known for its beautiful choir and incredible organist. What I didn't know was that the church itself is absolutely gorgeous. I haven't been inside Notre Dame yet, but I have to say, St. Eustache is probably the most beautiful church I've ever set foot in. And what I had heard was true: the music was awesome. I noticed that there didn't seem to be very many parishioners at the mass. At a church, you can tell who's a "regular" and who's just there paying a visit. For such a huge church, the congregation seemed pretty small to me. It might have something to do with the current state of relations among the secular and the religious of Paris. According to my host mother, there has been quite a bit of tension recently towards Christians in Paris, specifically Catholics. The high-profile visit by the pope only added to that tension. There seems to be a real swing towards secularism in the city. As a new-comer, I'm still not privy to the ins and outs of this whole issue, but it is definitely an interesting time to be here.

That's all for now. Until next time,

Happy Travels
-- Cody

Seine City

What a weekend...

After having spent two days simply trying to adjust to life in Paris, I decided that I would make like a tourist this weekend and start seeing the sights. The only problem is that there is SOOO much to see here, you can't do it all in one weekend. Unless of course you have the speed of Usain Bolt, and no desire whatsoever to actually appreciate what you are seeing. Luckily, I don't fit the bill for that sad lot...

Anyway, I decided to start my journey at Île de la Cité, the birthplace of Paris and home of le Cathédrale Notre Dame de Paris. The Île is one of two islands on the river Seine, running right through the heart of the city. The island is one of the most historically-rich places in the entire city. Centuries ago, the river encouraged the Romans to establish a city in the area, where the Parisii people lived. Citizens later escaped to the Île with Saint Genevieve (now the patron saint of Paris) when the city was under attack by bloodthirsty Huns. Modern "Huns" can now be seen attacking the island in cargo shorts, sporting fanny packs, and taking countless photos. Seriously, if you combined the digital camera inventory for all the Best Buy stores in the US into one, you probably still wouldn't be able to match the number I saw in front of the cathedral.



After checking out the outside of the cathedral (too impatient to wait in the huge line to go inside), I slipped down a discreet staircase in the front lawn to the Crypte Archeologique. A sign at the door says that the Crypte is not a museum. It is not an art gallery. It is an archeological treasure. The non-museum is a site where the French have preserved centuries-old foundations, walls, cellars, and staircases -- all mere meters under the crowds in front of the cathedral. Even though it was a touch creepy, it was really amazing to see.


I finished up my little exploration of the Île de la Cité, hopped over to the sister island, Île St-Louis, then strolled up the bank of the Seine to the Musée du Louvre. I've always heard that it would take months to see everything in this huge museum, but I never really thought about how large of a building it would take to house a collection that big. Holy balls the Louvre is enormous.


Since I will be receiving a carte du Louvre shortly from IES (a card allowing me to go to the Louvre any time I like -- for FREE), and since the line to get in seemed to stretch for miles, I decided to stick to the outside. Which is still completely impressive. Next, I headed home to Chez Tardy to get ready for an evening at a local jazz club, only blocks away. I was having an awesome time with my friends from IES listening to some great music, but I had to cut the evening short. I had been feeling a little under the weather all day, s0 I guess going out was a bad idea. At least that's what my body told me.

The next day, I thought I'd take advantage of the first-Sunday-of-the-month-equals-free-museum deal they've got going here. The Musée d'Orsay would be my destination. From what I've heard, the museum feels a lot like someone took an old train station and decided to fill it with art from the 19th century (which is atually exactly what happened). Well, I didn't get to experience that, as I continued my campaign of going to famous sights, then being too impatient to wait in huge lines to actually go in. Once again, I made the rounds on the outside. I'm telling you, too many people take the architecture of museums for granted. There is just as much beauty in the wrapping paper as there is in the contents (if I may use a reminding-you-all-of-my-birthday metaphor).

If you'd like an example of a museum at which it is completely impossible to take the archecture for granted, just look at the Centre Georges Pompidou, home of the Musée National d'Art Moderne. Yeah, that's the inside-out building.

After my trip to the d'Orsay was shortened, I took a stroll through the Jardin des Tuileries and then headed to the Centre Pompidou. Man, I don't know what it is, but I just don't understand a lot of modern "art". I can't help but feeling like I could have drawn some of the pieces I found lining the walls of the gallery. But then again, some of it was awesome. So I guess I'm not a completely lost cause.

Having had my fill of walking and gallery-perusing, I headed back home for a nice dinner. Then it was off to bed before another round of IES orientation in the morning.

To see all my photos from my weekend excursions, click the links under "mes photos" to the left.

Ahhh... Paris

Well I still can't believe it, but I'm here.

Beautiful. Complex. Mysterious. Classic. Blah blah blah. You've heard it all before. Normally, when something is talked up as much as Paris is, it doesn't quite live up to its reputation. But let me tell you: Paris is everything it's cracked up to be. Now granted, I may still be a little star-struck, not able to view the city from an objective angle, but my my my... I love it here. One of the first things I did upon arrival in Paris was to go on a tour of the city with my host mother (Mme. Tardy) in her car. That was my first introduction to the beauty of Paris. To me, the most difficult part was to get it through my head that all the sights were real. All my life, the Musée du Louvre, the Tour Eiffel, the Arc de Triomphe, and the Champs-Élysées were just set pieces in a movie or photographs on a postcard. But here, someone took all those postcards, blew them up to life-size, and lined them up side by side for us to drive by and say Ahhh. And I did indeed say Ahhh and Ohhh and Wowww and any other verbal cue I could muster to mark my amazement.

Everything here is just so... different.

It's a little disorienting -- dizzying even. But maybe that's the draw. Maybe that's why I felt the need so deep within to come here: I needed a change. And boy did I find one. Take the people: Everyone is so incredibly beautiful, fashionable, and put-together. I mentioned to a friend the other night that I've yet to see one truly, miserably ugly person in Paris. Those people don't seem to exist. Everyone seems to be much more aware of themselves, much more conscious of their appearance, than in the states. And it definitely shows. When I walk down the street, stroll through a market, or take a ride on the Métro, I fall in love with every girl I see. Although I know that I probably stick out like a sore thumb with my shabby American clothes and unkempt pile of hair.

And yet at times, it feels so familiar...

I imagine that had I not gone to school in a city like Chicago before coming to Paris, I would have had a much more difficult time adjusting to the lifestyle. For instance, some of the other IES Paris students were worried about riding the Métro, but I took on the challenge and came out a champ. Paris' Métro is a lot like the El in Chicago -- if the El took steroids and somehow found a way to be efficient, that is. So far I love it, but we'll have to wait and see if my opinion changes after the first transportation strike of the school year. The city itself really isn't much different from a large city like Chicago, for the most part. Now, there are large differences, but urban life is urban life.

I have found it pretty difficult to hide the fact that I'm an américain. Even if I were to ditch my wardrobe and dress myself to the nines in Parisian clothing, they would be able to tell the moment I opened my mouth to speak. I think I've learned quite a bit in the 5 years I've studied French in the states, but to the French themselves, I probably still sound like an American counterpart to the Swedish Chef on the Muppet Show.

Which is something that my host family seems able to put up with. So far, I'm loving life at Chez Tardy. The family is very nice and very patient with my level of French. My host family consists of Monsieur et Madame, Théophane, Liesse, Nolwenn, and Nathou. The youngest, Nathou, is in his teens, but the other three kids are all around my age, if not a touch older. That's pretty cool, since Nathou speaks in verlan (a type of French slang in which syllables are inverted) from time to time, as most French youths do. I know I'm going to learn a lot from being immersed in things like this. The family is all very good at slowing down their speech a bit and taking time to explain things I don't understand. And they can usually speak English (sometimes with a British accent) if all else fails.

Another bonus: my family is feeding me like a king. Ahh, French food. For an example, the first meal I had in Paris was a lunch consisting of fresh melons, rice, grilled fish, bread with 3 different types of fromage, and fruity yogurt for dessert. All served in separate courses. It has been strange getting used to the formalities of mealtime, but I have enjoyed it immensely. And let me tell you: the French must have some kind of magic working for them during meals. I've heard from so many people that meals can sometimes last for hours, what with all the conversing and laughing. And that may be true. But the French do not, by any means, eat slowly. I think I'm a pretty quick eater (just ask my friends) but I find myself rushing just to keep up with my French hosts. I don't know how they do it, but trust me: it's magical.

These were just my first impressions of the City of Lights. I hope they've given you some idea of what life is like here. I know, I know: you want to see some pictures. Fret not: I will be posting some very very soon, as well as accounts of my touristic journeys. Stay tuned.

(edit: I've added a link to some first photos. Check it out to the left.)

Happy Travels.
-- Cody