Hustle & Bustle in Brussels

So, look at me: I've only been back in Paris for a little over an hour and I'm already updating the ole blog. How daring!

Well, Brussels was pretty darn sweet. Like most people will tell you, it's not quite as beautiful as a lot of other cities throughout Europe -- like Paris or Vienna, from my experience -- on account of its strange mix of architectural styles, but it is still a nice place. There are lots of old old buildings downtown, but then there is a decent amount of modern, industrial almost-skyscrapers. Honestly, there were times when I really felt like I was back in Chicago. The city had a very similar feel to it. The general feeling was not quite as "European" as I was expecting. but Brussels still has its charm. I definitely enjoyed my time there. Despite the crappy weather (snow!).

I got into Bruxelles (as the French call it) around 10 friday morning, found my way to my hostel, checked in, and then headed out for sightseeing. Of course I went straight for the Grand Place, Brussels' historic district. Descending ever so slowly into the tail end of November, workers were already out preparing the Place for the upcoming Christmas Market -- a European specialty. People were working feverishly among the old-as-centuries buildings, some attaching straw to the roof of a manger soon to hold the holy family, and some stabilizing the huge evergreen tree standing in the middle of it all. The Grand Place is always full of tourist, and rightly so. The buildings are incredibly detailed, covered in gold leaf and statues. Restaurants can be found just around just about every corner, but they all seem to cater to the tourist crowd -- tourists with wads of cash in their pockets, that is. I was not to be tempted. I found lunch in an out-of-the-way restaurant: salad, meatballs, and fries. Delicious.

For most of the afternoon, I simply meandered from historic sight to historic sight, keeping an eye on my whereabouts with a map I picked up from the hostel. I saw Manneken Pis, la Bourse (stock exchange), St. Michael's Cathedral, St. Catherine's, the touristy restaurants lining Rue des Bouchers, and the Galleries of the King and Queen, among many others. The whole time was filled with side wonders and lots and lots of chocolate shops. There's quite a bit to see and do in Brussels, and it's all very pedestrian-friendly. After dining at a pizzeria and exploring some more, I decided to call it a night. The weather was just not friendly at all. Rain rain rain. It was a good night to slip into bed a little early. Before sleep, though, I took the time to send off some postcards and a letter or two.

I woke up nice and early saturday morning, and made a game-plan for the day. I decided to follow a walking tour outlined in little crow's feet on my map. It started at the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier at the Congress Column just a couple blocks away from the hostel, so that's where I headed. When I got there, I saw lots of people milling about in military uniforms. Deciding to stay and see what was up, I soon heard what sounded like a marching music. Then, around the corner came a band, followed by four regiments of young men and women decked out in fatigues and rifles. I asked someone standing by me in the gathering crowd what was going on. It was apparently a celebration of the anniversary of the founding of the Military Academy in Brussels. Just before the ceremony started, and as snow began falling, a very important man (general of the army? maybe?) stepped out of a discreet black car, wearing a long trench coat and blue military beret. He presided over the events.

After the ceremony, I started off on my walking tour. I didn't finish, though, as the half-way point was my real item of interest: the Parc du Cinquantenaire. I wandered around the park and headed towards the Royal Army Museum, from where I could (supposedly) climb to the top of their Arc de Triomphe. Along the way, I saw a large makeshift building advertising a special exhibit. I went inside to find a collection of beautiful photos and information about Michelangelo's Pieta. It was very interesting to hear about just how perfect the work is -- he apparently made vast use of the Golden Ratio while carving the work. It really is fascinating. Next, I made it to the Army Museum, where I unfortunately could not climb the Arc. I did, however, find a very cool Aviation exhibit -- lots of airplanes, helicopters, and hot air balloons.

After a quick lunch at a nice little restaurant (the waitress was totally flirting with me, by the way), I went to meet up with Brianna and her friend at the National Basilica of the Sacred Heart. We toured the inside of the HUGE church, and then rode the elevator to the top, where we climbed outside to admire the view from around the enormous dome. While we snapped photos and caught up with each other's lives, the snow began to fall again. It was a very picturesque moment. Next, I headed out to see the Atomium, a 100-or-so meter high steel replica of an iron crystal made for the 1958 World's Fair. I had read that it's not quite as cool as it may seem, so I wasn't too disappointed when I arrived 15 minutes after closing time. I took a few quick pictures and headed back downtown for dinner. I did some last major sightseeing in the historic district, including the famous Delirium Tremens bar, and made my way back to the hostel. I sat in the hostel's Babel Bar for a while, sampling some more Belgian beer (so good), before hitting the hay.

This morning I woke up around 7:30, grabbed breakfast, and checked out. I made the rounds of the city one last time, then headed for the only site that was open and standing between me and the Brussels Midi train station: the Porte de Halle. It's an awesome tower that was formerly one of the only entrances penetrating the stone walls around the city. I toured the museum, climbed the huge, spiraling, stone staircase, and took one last view of the city from up high. Beautiful. I ended my time in Brussels trying to find the entrance to the train station among the HUGE flea market that apparently springs up on sunday mornings. That was a cultural experience in itself. I caught the train, and the rest is history.

So there you have it. I'm off now to do some homework before grabbing dinner with Caroline later. Oh, and I had some serious reading time on the train, so I'm getting deeper and deeper into my latest Kerouac novel. It really is incredible. Life-changing, really. Let me know if you want details. Until next time.

Happy Travels

-- Cody

La Nuit Blanche, or 7 Euro Bonbons? For Real?, or Why One Might Question the Sanity of the French

Last night was Paris' annual Nuit Blanche (White Night). Like I mentioned in my last post, Nuit Blanche is an all night celebration of art, culture, music, and performance. Churches, Métro stations, gardens, museums, and parks all throughout the city hosted events from sunset to sunrise. Boy, was it interesting...

After enjoying a home-made dinner of crêpes with my host sister, Nolwenn, and two of her friends, I made my choice about where to spend the evening. Based on timing, proximity to my family's apartment, and Caroline's preferences, I decided to go to the Centre Georges Pompidou (the inside-out building, remember?). The Center would be keeping the doors to its modern art gallery open all night long. This is where things got interesting. I arrived at the center quite a bit before Caroline was to join me, so I decided not to step into the huge line for the art gallery just yet. Starting to wander around, I came across a strange, almost airstream-like trailer with a bright neon sign on top reading, "Chambre(s) d'Hôtel" [Hotel Room(s)]. Nothing was really going on around it, so I didn't think much of it and continued on. But this unassuming little trailer will make another appearance in this post...

I then found my way to Église St. Merry, a church right next door to the Centre Pompidou. The church had been decked out for Nuit Blanche with lofty works of art, eery lighting, and various performers. When I first walked in, a dance group was just finishing up. I have to admit, it was a bit strange seeing hip hop dance in a centuries-old church. Up next, an awesome poet/actor/dancer(?) stepped into the spotlight. I'm not sure what to call what he did, but it might be similar to a French version of slam poetry. Anyway, he concluded his set with this soul-shaking quote:

-- "Moi, je suis Henri Marche. Et vous -- vous aussi -- Vous êtes Henri Marche..."

-- "Me, I'm Henri Marche. And you -- you as well -- You are Henri Marche..."

How true, how true... After this revelation, I did some more wandering. As fate would have it, I found myself back at the trailer. This time, I was in for a treat. Whatever company that was responsible for the presence of the trailer had begun their show for the evening. A large window on the side of the trailer that had once been obscured by a white curtain now revealed 2 women and a man inside, moving and dancing about with blank expressions on their faces. This, ladies and gentlemen, was my first experience with "performance art." From what I gathered from the abstract acting and trance-like music, the piece was about some sort of prostitution ring, or maybe domestic violence witnessed by a hotel cleaning lady, or maybe murder as a result of a love triangle? Maybe? It's hard to say. All I really learned was that the French might be nuts. Here's a short clip of the performance. I'll let you decide what it's about:

Just about the time this finished up, Caroline called to let me know she had arrived. I found her in the swaying crowd of drunk Frenchmen, and we headed to the line for the modern art gallery. Just then, a man from the center came out and told us the doors would be locked at 1 am. It was about 12:55. So we wisely chose to cut our losses. We explored the area a bit more, then I took Caroline back over to Église St. Merry, where we watched another dance crew. Yeah, more hip hop in the church. But they were good, so it was worth it.

Deciding it was getting too dangerously close to the time when the Métro would stop running, Caroline and I wound our way back to the station. Along the way, I found a huge stand selling amazing-looking candy. It was just too much to resist. I asked the worker how much the candy cost. "2,90 € for 100 g." Contemplating what 100 g of candy might feel like, I filled my bag with delicious sweets. Satisfied, I handed the bag over for weighing, praying that I hadn't stuffed it with more than 5 or 6 euro's worth. Well, it turned out to be 7 euro and some change. I wasn't too terribly upset by the price, so we continued on our way to the station. While we waited for our train, we decided to see if the candy was worth it. Alas, the bonbons were sub-par. Naturally. I got home about 45 minutes later, clutching the bag of sweets and feeling ready for bed.

I now leave you with a treat of your own: Love It or Leave It.

Reason to Love It: The architecture. The buildings here are absolutely beautiful. And old, man. It's hard to imagine that most of the churches in this city have been around longer than the United States...

Reason to Leave It: No Chicago style deep dish pizza in Paris. Nuf said.

Happy Travels

-- Cody

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

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

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.