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
08 September 2008
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.
07 September 2008
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
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
27 August 2008
one week: paris approaches
one week is not a long time.
i might have argued the opposite a few years ago in high school, when the years seemed to trickle by like drops from the tap. but after having already blown through half of my time as an undergrad at depaul university, i am starting to see the reality: time flies. whether you're having fun or not. and you can't go back.
you see, i still can't quite wrap my brain around the fact that in approximately one week, i will be sitting in paris. it just doesn't seem real yet. for the past year+, i have been planning this study abroad trip, so i've known it was coming. but until now, i've had applications, appointments, and heaps of paperwork to hide behind. i couldn't see the fast-approaching horizon. in the past week, i have slowly removed just about every obstacle keeping me from paris. i finally got a long-stay student visa; i figured out (more or less) my finances for the year; having waited for weeks, i received my housing placement letter; and i've (theoretically, at least) started the packing process. so, here i stand. the only thing between my simple life in kansas and the most incredible trip of my life is one week.
and i couldn't be more excited.
i decided to write this blog because, as most of my friends and family know, i'm pretty terrible at keeping in touch with people. i'm not the best at keeping up with emails. i'm not a big phone-talker. and i suck at responding to facebook messages. all this might suggest that i won't actually write in this blog, but i'm pretty sure this is one thing i can commit to. i know i'm going to have some pretty crazy, possibly life-changing, hilarious, tragic, and noteworthy experiences in the coming academic year. and for most of the year, i won't have any of my closest friends to share them with. so i will need a way to keep y'all in the loop. and to keep my head from exploding. thus, this blog.
so keep your eyes peeled for new entries, new photos, etc. if you feel so moved, go ahead and hit the comment button beneath the post. if you want to contact me via email, send a message to christopher.meinhardt@gmail.com. or if you would like to send a good old-fashioned pen-and-paper letter (which would absolutely warm my soul), stamp it up and send it to my IES Paris address, which you can find in the sidebar to the left.
thanks in advance for your precious time spent perusing my words. i hope you find something here at least a touch meaningful, or merely entertaining. happy travels.
i'll see you in paris!
i might have argued the opposite a few years ago in high school, when the years seemed to trickle by like drops from the tap. but after having already blown through half of my time as an undergrad at depaul university, i am starting to see the reality: time flies. whether you're having fun or not. and you can't go back.
you see, i still can't quite wrap my brain around the fact that in approximately one week, i will be sitting in paris. it just doesn't seem real yet. for the past year+, i have been planning this study abroad trip, so i've known it was coming. but until now, i've had applications, appointments, and heaps of paperwork to hide behind. i couldn't see the fast-approaching horizon. in the past week, i have slowly removed just about every obstacle keeping me from paris. i finally got a long-stay student visa; i figured out (more or less) my finances for the year; having waited for weeks, i received my housing placement letter; and i've (theoretically, at least) started the packing process. so, here i stand. the only thing between my simple life in kansas and the most incredible trip of my life is one week.
and i couldn't be more excited.
i decided to write this blog because, as most of my friends and family know, i'm pretty terrible at keeping in touch with people. i'm not the best at keeping up with emails. i'm not a big phone-talker. and i suck at responding to facebook messages. all this might suggest that i won't actually write in this blog, but i'm pretty sure this is one thing i can commit to. i know i'm going to have some pretty crazy, possibly life-changing, hilarious, tragic, and noteworthy experiences in the coming academic year. and for most of the year, i won't have any of my closest friends to share them with. so i will need a way to keep y'all in the loop. and to keep my head from exploding. thus, this blog.
so keep your eyes peeled for new entries, new photos, etc. if you feel so moved, go ahead and hit the comment button beneath the post. if you want to contact me via email, send a message to christopher.meinhardt@gmail.com. or if you would like to send a good old-fashioned pen-and-paper letter (which would absolutely warm my soul), stamp it up and send it to my IES Paris address, which you can find in the sidebar to the left.
thanks in advance for your precious time spent perusing my words. i hope you find something here at least a touch meaningful, or merely entertaining. happy travels.
i'll see you in paris!
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