For those most astute readers, you may recall in a previous entry I mentioned the difference between visiting a foreign country and living there. For those not-so-astute readers, worry not, because I didn't go too in-depth on the subject. But I've been thinking more about it, and that's what I wanted to focus my entry on today.
The first time I came to France, it was everything I had ever imagined, most of which was based on movies, songs, books, photographs. Paris was a gorgeous, romantic city that swept me off my feet like an old Hollywood film and carried me to the brinks of all my fancies. The music, the food, the sights! But like movies, songs, and photographs, that trip was only a sampling, a superficial grazing of the iceberg that is French culture. I might as well capitalize it - it's a monumental subject. FRENCH CULTURE.
BU's Paris Internship Program (or PIP as we [never] affectionately call it) is a cultural immersion program, meaning you don't learn about French culture from reading a book. You learn it by living in it. And by doing so, you learn about the nitty-gritty aspects of Parisian existence, not just what year Gustave Eiffel built his tower [answer: 1889] or how many examples of Haussmann-era architecture you can find in a day [answer: too many to count]. Living in Paris, you learn which boulangerie has the freshest, tastiest baguettes (or, more importantly, pain au chocolat), how to put more minutes on your cellphone, which wine tastes the best and costs the least, and how to become a "regular" at the local bistro. You learn to take the metro without thinking about it, you learn the intimacies of your neighborhood, and, above all, you learn the how and why of French behavior and cultural tradition.
Now, I've been here for a grand total of two weeks and one day, so I'm not saying I know all this yet. I mean, I definitely haven't figured out the whole "putting more minutes on the cellphone" thing. But I think that by recognizing the difference between visiting and existing, I've already overcome an important hurtle. I've learned, or am trying to learn, not to be disappointed when Paris doesn't quite seem like La Vie en Rose all the time. It's not about having a constant thrill in your stomach...sometimes it's about being uncomfortable. It's uncomfortable when someone speaks to me and I don't understand. It's uncomfortable when someone French approaches me with an extremely direct manner and I am taken aback. It's uncomfortable when people look at me like I'm stupid because I have to turn around after reading a métro sign wrong. It's not la vie en rose - but it's real life.
So while I have no minutes left on my phone, I have learned a FEW things about French culture. For tonight I will share one of the most important ones with you:
I cannot, CANNOT comprehend, for the life of me, why people think Parisians are mean. Parisians can be abrupt, straightforward, and entirely unabashed, but they are not any meaner than any other group of city-dwellers. I have met far more blatantly rude people in the U.S. than I have in France. Even at a McDonald's in France (which, I repeat, I have only patronized in order to get cheap coffee in to-go cups!), the workers are kind and polite to customers. I was in a boulangerie the other day getting dinner, and a customer complained to the woman behind the counter because he left the store and his bread had broken or something like that. She told him since he had already left the store, she wouldn't just give him another one. He got mad, and she proceeded to tell him over and over in a very firm tone, "You already left the store. You may not have a free baguette". Immediately after, she turned to the next customer with a polite smile and a genuinely genial, "Et pour vous, madame?" She was not being mean to the man with the baguette problem - she was being resolute and direct. The French do not pussyfoot around.
Wednesday, January 28, 2009
Monday, January 26, 2009
Rater au blog
So I've been rather terrible about blogging, and for this I sincerely apologize. I think I blogged more before I left than after I arrived! But I honestly think that might have something to do with the fact that I went online for like 10 hours a day while I was at home and now I live in Paris...soooo, I'm kind of more occupied.
Classes are difficult and I have a lot of work, which is a pain in my rear because I'd much rather be out enjoying this beautiful city than sitting inside doing grammar exercises. Paris is really the most gorgeous city I've ever seen. Every area has some charm to it, some hidden wonder just waiting to be discovered. There are alleyways that lead to secret gardens, hilltop views, immaculate architecture, and some of the most beautiful monuments ever constructed. The modern exists alongside the antique, and everything has a sort of charming balance...I think that's one of the best words I can use to describe Paris: charming!
Probably my favorite day here thus far was Friday. In the morning, BU scheduled a course in gastronomy for us, and we were able to sample a huge amount of excellent food and wine. The tasting was separated into sections depending on what shop the foods came from ; for example, we ate rillettes, blood sausage, and salami from the charcuterie, or meat shop (which usually sells procured meats rather than straight butchered meats). The blood sausage was surprisingly delicious. Then the fromage! It was amazing. Cheese is probably my favorite food in the world, and this is the best place to eat it. We sampled chevre, comte, fourme d'ambert (a type of blue cheese), and two types of camembert. All were scrumptious.
After that, we ate food from the boulangerie, where one buys bread - pain au chocolat, chaussons de pommes, baguettes, etc. And we finished off with the patisserie - pastries, oh my! Millefeuilles, profiteroles, beignets...all kinds of yummy sweet items, plus white wine. I stuffed myself with everything, telling myself I had to take advantage of as much of BU's money as possible, as it is a rare occurrence that they dispense it so willingly.
Pics:
Afterward, the sun was out, an extremely rare sight in Paris, but I had already decided to go to the Louvre, so we spent most of the sunny afternoon inside. I had another mini identity crisis while at the museum because of my secret desire to be an art historian, but whatever...I'll figure myself out eventually. We got into the museum for free because our BU I.D. cards say we're art history students on them - score! I don't quite understand why I thought the Louvre was so complicated the last time I went...it was extremely easy to navigate this time and I found everything I wanted to see quite easily. I finally got to see the Venus de Milo, which I didn't see last time because I got lost. Again, what's wrong with me?
The Mona Lisa was as disappointing as ever. There was a cool temporary Picasso/Delacroix exhibit, and an awesome sheet music exhibit as well. The art history geek within me swelled with joy. The Louvre, however, is an extremely tiring museum, so we stayed about 2-3 hours and decided to come back another day, since, of course, it's free!
Pics:
After the Louvre, we bought some wine (which is very cheap, even for the good stuff, in France) and went over to a university cafeteria to eat because it's only 3 euros for food...though the food isn't the best. Then we went to the Czech cultural society...yes, you read that right. My friend found out about some cool jazz concert, and it's actually a good thing we went, because it was so much fun! It was in this cave-like place in the basement of the Czech society that looked sort of like an old wine cellar. There was a 4-piece jazz band and a great vibe about the place...we just chilled out for a couple of hours, listening to the music, enjoying some wine, and being in Paris.
Thus far, it has all been great. I love Paris, I love the European life, and I certainly LOVE the food. I think the only thing I really miss is American coffee :( The coffee here is extremely tiny, extremely strong, and extremely expensive. I like my coffee sweet and creamy and large. Literally, a caramel macchiato from Starbuck's in Paris costs 5 euros. That's like $7!!! Meredith and I have started getting coffee from the McDonald's down the street because it's cheaper and comes in a to-go cup, but sheesh...I thought the coffee would overfloweth here!
Oh, and I'm officially going to Amsterdam on February 13th, Venice and Rome for Spring Break, Barcelona on April 11, hopefully Germany or Switzerland May 1, and spending a week in the UK in mid-May. Those are travel plans as of late. Ohhh Europe, how I love thee.
Classes are difficult and I have a lot of work, which is a pain in my rear because I'd much rather be out enjoying this beautiful city than sitting inside doing grammar exercises. Paris is really the most gorgeous city I've ever seen. Every area has some charm to it, some hidden wonder just waiting to be discovered. There are alleyways that lead to secret gardens, hilltop views, immaculate architecture, and some of the most beautiful monuments ever constructed. The modern exists alongside the antique, and everything has a sort of charming balance...I think that's one of the best words I can use to describe Paris: charming!
Probably my favorite day here thus far was Friday. In the morning, BU scheduled a course in gastronomy for us, and we were able to sample a huge amount of excellent food and wine. The tasting was separated into sections depending on what shop the foods came from ; for example, we ate rillettes, blood sausage, and salami from the charcuterie, or meat shop (which usually sells procured meats rather than straight butchered meats). The blood sausage was surprisingly delicious. Then the fromage! It was amazing. Cheese is probably my favorite food in the world, and this is the best place to eat it. We sampled chevre, comte, fourme d'ambert (a type of blue cheese), and two types of camembert. All were scrumptious.
After that, we ate food from the boulangerie, where one buys bread - pain au chocolat, chaussons de pommes, baguettes, etc. And we finished off with the patisserie - pastries, oh my! Millefeuilles, profiteroles, beignets...all kinds of yummy sweet items, plus white wine. I stuffed myself with everything, telling myself I had to take advantage of as much of BU's money as possible, as it is a rare occurrence that they dispense it so willingly.
Pics:
Afterward, the sun was out, an extremely rare sight in Paris, but I had already decided to go to the Louvre, so we spent most of the sunny afternoon inside. I had another mini identity crisis while at the museum because of my secret desire to be an art historian, but whatever...I'll figure myself out eventually. We got into the museum for free because our BU I.D. cards say we're art history students on them - score! I don't quite understand why I thought the Louvre was so complicated the last time I went...it was extremely easy to navigate this time and I found everything I wanted to see quite easily. I finally got to see the Venus de Milo, which I didn't see last time because I got lost. Again, what's wrong with me?The Mona Lisa was as disappointing as ever. There was a cool temporary Picasso/Delacroix exhibit, and an awesome sheet music exhibit as well. The art history geek within me swelled with joy. The Louvre, however, is an extremely tiring museum, so we stayed about 2-3 hours and decided to come back another day, since, of course, it's free!
Pics:
After the Louvre, we bought some wine (which is very cheap, even for the good stuff, in France) and went over to a university cafeteria to eat because it's only 3 euros for food...though the food isn't the best. Then we went to the Czech cultural society...yes, you read that right. My friend found out about some cool jazz concert, and it's actually a good thing we went, because it was so much fun! It was in this cave-like place in the basement of the Czech society that looked sort of like an old wine cellar. There was a 4-piece jazz band and a great vibe about the place...we just chilled out for a couple of hours, listening to the music, enjoying some wine, and being in Paris.
Thus far, it has all been great. I love Paris, I love the European life, and I certainly LOVE the food. I think the only thing I really miss is American coffee :( The coffee here is extremely tiny, extremely strong, and extremely expensive. I like my coffee sweet and creamy and large. Literally, a caramel macchiato from Starbuck's in Paris costs 5 euros. That's like $7!!! Meredith and I have started getting coffee from the McDonald's down the street because it's cheaper and comes in a to-go cup, but sheesh...I thought the coffee would overfloweth here!
Oh, and I'm officially going to Amsterdam on February 13th, Venice and Rome for Spring Break, Barcelona on April 11, hopefully Germany or Switzerland May 1, and spending a week in the UK in mid-May. Those are travel plans as of late. Ohhh Europe, how I love thee.
Monday, January 19, 2009
i love paris in the winter, when it drizzles....
Yesterday was Montmartre avec Meredith and Veronique. It was my favorite part of Paris last time I came, and I think it is still. I would like to go there alone one day and just walk and walk for hours...it's one of those sorts of places. I have pictures but my camera is dead right now so...later.
Class started today. Five hours straight of class in French...umm...well, it's difficult. But I can literally feel my French improving every day. We had our weekly dinner with our host mom today and we were actually able to carry on a conversation, which is a first.
I'm taking art history, a theatre/cinema/music class, and a grammar class. I love art history. Not going to lie, I wish I could change my major a little. But I just thought of that today, so I'll probably change my mind. But this is my third course of art history and I really never stop loving it and getting excited about it. What a nerd I am.
Madame De Cremiers makes the most amazing food. Tonight we had fresh avacado with balsamic vinaigrette for the first course, then a sort of pie/casserole with chicken, mushrooms, a crème fraiche sauce, and rice for the second course, then cheese and salad, then a dessert of passionfruit and strawberry sorbet. Mmmmm....I adore French food. The only downside (or is it an upside...?) is that she keeps pouring us wine over and over and over. Ok, so maybe it's an upside.
La vie est belle. Paris est belle. Je suis contente.
Class started today. Five hours straight of class in French...umm...well, it's difficult. But I can literally feel my French improving every day. We had our weekly dinner with our host mom today and we were actually able to carry on a conversation, which is a first.
I'm taking art history, a theatre/cinema/music class, and a grammar class. I love art history. Not going to lie, I wish I could change my major a little. But I just thought of that today, so I'll probably change my mind. But this is my third course of art history and I really never stop loving it and getting excited about it. What a nerd I am.
Madame De Cremiers makes the most amazing food. Tonight we had fresh avacado with balsamic vinaigrette for the first course, then a sort of pie/casserole with chicken, mushrooms, a crème fraiche sauce, and rice for the second course, then cheese and salad, then a dessert of passionfruit and strawberry sorbet. Mmmmm....I adore French food. The only downside (or is it an upside...?) is that she keeps pouring us wine over and over and over. Ok, so maybe it's an upside.
La vie est belle. Paris est belle. Je suis contente.
Sunday, January 18, 2009
o gay Parisss!
So I was going to write out a big long proper post, but it takes a really long time. Plus my internet is rather touchy and refuses to stay online for more than 20 minutes as a time. So I figured I would just supply you with some lovely pictures of my time thus far in Paris, as well as some random facts.Pictures first!
Place de la Concorde
Jumping on the Center of Paris:
The Seine next to Notre Dame:
Me and Mere next to the Louvre:
Erm, I dunno what this one is, I've never seen that monument before:
My room in my homestay!
Amusing: I took these two pictures in the exact same spot. They're just four years apart :)
Random facts I have ascertained thus far:
Visiting Paris is EXTREMELY different from living in Paris. They are simply two incomparable experiences.
Coffee in Paris is too expensive.
It is merely a stereotype that Parisians are rude, a stereotype that is probably based on the experience of rude Americans tourists.
Parisians are not politically correct.
French food is simply divine. The food is fresh, handmade, beautiful, appreciated, and enjoyed. It is neither an enemy nor a crutch. Nobody scarfs down food on their way to work ; people might sit in a café for hours nursing a cup of strong, rich coffee and eating a sandwich. There are very few fast food places...though they do have KFC here, which is a little odd to me.
Paris is still the most beautiful city I have ever seen, the only place in which I must periodically stop, breathe, and ask myself how in the world I am so lucky to be here.
That's all for now. I start class tomorrow, so that should be verrry interesting.
BAIIII
Thursday, January 15, 2009
je suis la!
i dont have much time for a proper post with pictures and such because I'm at the lab at BU, but one will follow once the internet at my homesty is a little more reliable. I'm typing on a french keyboard, which is EXTREMELY frustrating because letters and symbols are all mixed up (the 'q' is where the 'a' should be and whatnot), so ignore any typos.
So it's been difficult so far, but I'm adjusting. I change emotions within moments; sometimes it's all very exciting and surreal, other times it's overwhelming, and still other times it feels comfortable, like nothing has changed. My host mom is very nice but she only speaks French, so communication is difficult at the moment. I can understand her fairly easily by picking up on keywords, and she's very patient and understanding, but it's hard to speak with her because my speaking skills are definitely not up to snuff quite yet. I'm sure that will improve over time; after tomorrow, we're only allowed to speak French at BU.
We had orientation and a sightseeing tour yesterday. There is SO much I want to see while I'm here, so I better start soon! I think Meredith and I might go to the Louvre today...we both want to do something Parisian and touristy.
Ok, just letting everyone know I'm here and alive. I will post again from my laptop when I have a chance.
à bientot,
Liz
So it's been difficult so far, but I'm adjusting. I change emotions within moments; sometimes it's all very exciting and surreal, other times it's overwhelming, and still other times it feels comfortable, like nothing has changed. My host mom is very nice but she only speaks French, so communication is difficult at the moment. I can understand her fairly easily by picking up on keywords, and she's very patient and understanding, but it's hard to speak with her because my speaking skills are definitely not up to snuff quite yet. I'm sure that will improve over time; after tomorrow, we're only allowed to speak French at BU.
We had orientation and a sightseeing tour yesterday. There is SO much I want to see while I'm here, so I better start soon! I think Meredith and I might go to the Louvre today...we both want to do something Parisian and touristy.
Ok, just letting everyone know I'm here and alive. I will post again from my laptop when I have a chance.
à bientot,
Liz
Saturday, January 10, 2009
Mon dieu.
I am so stressed.
I cannot stress that enough.
That I am stressed.
Stressing the stress, here.
I have to pack my life into a suitcase, book a shuttle, find the proper converters, call my credit card company, mail a bunch of shit, sort out my phone business, and then, um, oh yeah, move to a foreign country. In less than two days.
I think I'm going to go take a shower. Whenever I'm stressed, I shower. I'm weird, I know.
I cannot stress that enough.
That I am stressed.
Stressing the stress, here.
I have to pack my life into a suitcase, book a shuttle, find the proper converters, call my credit card company, mail a bunch of shit, sort out my phone business, and then, um, oh yeah, move to a foreign country. In less than two days.
I think I'm going to go take a shower. Whenever I'm stressed, I shower. I'm weird, I know.
Thursday, January 8, 2009
Three More Days
Three days left on American soil.
I can still hardly believe it. I hope I'm not in for the shock of my life when I arrive. You know, I was thinking back to the first time I went, and I counted down to that trip for months. Almost a year, actually. And now, I'm going to be LIVING in France for four months, and I still haven't quite realized it. I have had moments in the past few days during which I cannot believe my fortune, my stomach knots up in excitement, and all I can focus on is traveling and all of the new places I am going to see and wonderful people I will meet and wealth of things I will learn. And then I have those moments where my stomach knots up, but not in a thrilling way - rather, in a terrifying way. I sometimes wish I had never signed up for this, that I was driving up Route 28 next week and not flying across the Atlantic ocean, that I could stay in the comfort zone where my parents, my friends, my family, my BosTones, hell, even my dog, are all there to support me. But the best lessons are not easy ones, and the best experiences are those that try and challenge us. I know I have to do this. And I've dreamed of this for a long, long time.
The student handbook that BU so kindly provided for us suggests that we should think about some questions before embarking on our journey. It asks us to think about what it means to be an American.
Hm.
I have been pondering this question for quite a bit now, and it's interesting me more than I ever thought it would. Or should, for that matter. Is being American more than eating chicken fried steak smothered in Wal-mart brand faux cheese while watching a college football game on a 72 inch flat screen TV? Is being American more than what the stereotypes say?
I have honestly never thought of myself as "American". I am from United States of America, but that's different. From what I understand, the French have a very strong cultural identity of being French, as do many other Europeans with their respective cultures. But I feel very differently about our culture as a whole. I'm not even sure if the USA has a specific culture. Are we old enough to have one? Or are we too much of a melting pot? When you ask most French people the question, "What nationality are you?" they would, of course, respond, "French" (in a haughty tone and with a nasal chortle, no doubt). But here, the words "nationality" and "heritage" are confusing. I know many people who live in the USA who would answer this question with "Portuguese" or "Irish". I, myself, identify more with my Irish roots than I do with the "America" in which I was born and raised. So is the American culture one of personal identity rather than national identity?
I fear the embarrassment of having to tell people I'm an American when I am abroad. How pathetic is that, that I'm ashamed of my country? But if I'm ashamed of my country, does that mean I'm ashamed of myself, and who I am?
Things to think about.
I can still hardly believe it. I hope I'm not in for the shock of my life when I arrive. You know, I was thinking back to the first time I went, and I counted down to that trip for months. Almost a year, actually. And now, I'm going to be LIVING in France for four months, and I still haven't quite realized it. I have had moments in the past few days during which I cannot believe my fortune, my stomach knots up in excitement, and all I can focus on is traveling and all of the new places I am going to see and wonderful people I will meet and wealth of things I will learn. And then I have those moments where my stomach knots up, but not in a thrilling way - rather, in a terrifying way. I sometimes wish I had never signed up for this, that I was driving up Route 28 next week and not flying across the Atlantic ocean, that I could stay in the comfort zone where my parents, my friends, my family, my BosTones, hell, even my dog, are all there to support me. But the best lessons are not easy ones, and the best experiences are those that try and challenge us. I know I have to do this. And I've dreamed of this for a long, long time.
The student handbook that BU so kindly provided for us suggests that we should think about some questions before embarking on our journey. It asks us to think about what it means to be an American.
Hm.
I have been pondering this question for quite a bit now, and it's interesting me more than I ever thought it would. Or should, for that matter. Is being American more than eating chicken fried steak smothered in Wal-mart brand faux cheese while watching a college football game on a 72 inch flat screen TV? Is being American more than what the stereotypes say?
I have honestly never thought of myself as "American". I am from United States of America, but that's different. From what I understand, the French have a very strong cultural identity of being French, as do many other Europeans with their respective cultures. But I feel very differently about our culture as a whole. I'm not even sure if the USA has a specific culture. Are we old enough to have one? Or are we too much of a melting pot? When you ask most French people the question, "What nationality are you?" they would, of course, respond, "French" (in a haughty tone and with a nasal chortle, no doubt). But here, the words "nationality" and "heritage" are confusing. I know many people who live in the USA who would answer this question with "Portuguese" or "Irish". I, myself, identify more with my Irish roots than I do with the "America" in which I was born and raised. So is the American culture one of personal identity rather than national identity?
I fear the embarrassment of having to tell people I'm an American when I am abroad. How pathetic is that, that I'm ashamed of my country? But if I'm ashamed of my country, does that mean I'm ashamed of myself, and who I am?
Things to think about.
Monday, January 5, 2009
Sunday, January 4, 2009
This is me...dorky, 17-year-old, short-haired me with braces, standing at the top of the Eiffel Tower. I can't believe that in a little over a week, I'll be standing there again, hopefully as slightly-less-dorky, 21-year old, long-haired, brace-less me. It's weird...when I got home from this trip, all I wanted was to come back to Paris as soon as I possible could. And now, I'm nervous as hell and wondering if I'll be all right. Oh dear.I have so much to do to prepare. I'm freaking out. I'm leaving in a week. Oh God, oh God.
Somebody tell me I'm going to be fine.
Le Début - Countdown, 9 days
Greetings. If you don't already know, my name is Liz. I am a 21-year-old Junior at Boston University, I hail from Dighton, MA (though Boston is slowly becoming more "home" than Dighton is) and I will soon be able to say that I live in Paris, France. Well, at least for this next semester.
I am starting this blog to record my journey, to share it with others, to sort out my thoughts, and to otherwise continue a self-exploitive tradition that I have valued for many years, as can be witnessed most explicitly in my retired Livejournal. I love writing, I love traveling, and I love preserving memories. Thus, a blog seemed appropriate. I've missed blogging. I'm not sure what that says about my attachment to technology, the fact that I can actually miss blogging (see: Donna Haraway's The Cyborg Manifesto), but here we are.
My life tends to move in cycles, cycles that appear in sequences of four. My freshman year of college echoed my freshman year of high school - forgettable, detached, poignant only in specific moments. Similarly, my sophomore years of college and high school were mirrors - both developmental, transitional, the pupae of my previous caterpillar stages. And as in high school, I have blossomed now in my Junior year of college. I'm finally getting good grades, feeling stimulated and inspired by academia, developing friendships that are better than just superficial, and accepting change into my life. I hate change. HATE it. Which is precisely why my life moves in cycles. Change ruptures the cycles, and I have to start over.
But what now? This is perhaps a more monumental change than the start of college itself. But I can feel myself changing, and I'm not resisting it. My mind is stirring with renewal and questioning, searching to find itself. I feel uncomfortable inside myself, not hateful, but squirmy. This is the time. This is the perfect time to go to Paris and set myself free.
Four years ago, I went to Europe for the first time. It was for ten days on a stupid school trip, but I will swear, even to this day, going to Europe changed my life. I am hardly sure how. But I know that the swirling questions and self-consciousness inside my head that pestered me throughout high school - well, they finally settled. I found something more solid and certain. My restless sense of self found a sort of definition, a new "ness" that gave me direction, inspiration, and above all, passion.
I don't expect this trip to Europe to be quite the same, because whenever I think life has decided to keep to its patterns, it swerves in an unpredictable direction. But that's why I want to document my journey - to watch myself change, as I undoubtedly will, and to remember what I learn, who I meet, what I do...and to share it with whomever cares to read.
I promise most entries won't be quite so dry as this one. I hope to include daily pictures and longer weekly entries, hopefully ones that are somewhat interesting. So that's the plan, I suppose.
I leave for Paris in 9 days. I am...more emotions than I could ever find the time and vocabulary to describe.
I am starting this blog to record my journey, to share it with others, to sort out my thoughts, and to otherwise continue a self-exploitive tradition that I have valued for many years, as can be witnessed most explicitly in my retired Livejournal. I love writing, I love traveling, and I love preserving memories. Thus, a blog seemed appropriate. I've missed blogging. I'm not sure what that says about my attachment to technology, the fact that I can actually miss blogging (see: Donna Haraway's The Cyborg Manifesto), but here we are.
My life tends to move in cycles, cycles that appear in sequences of four. My freshman year of college echoed my freshman year of high school - forgettable, detached, poignant only in specific moments. Similarly, my sophomore years of college and high school were mirrors - both developmental, transitional, the pupae of my previous caterpillar stages. And as in high school, I have blossomed now in my Junior year of college. I'm finally getting good grades, feeling stimulated and inspired by academia, developing friendships that are better than just superficial, and accepting change into my life. I hate change. HATE it. Which is precisely why my life moves in cycles. Change ruptures the cycles, and I have to start over.
But what now? This is perhaps a more monumental change than the start of college itself. But I can feel myself changing, and I'm not resisting it. My mind is stirring with renewal and questioning, searching to find itself. I feel uncomfortable inside myself, not hateful, but squirmy. This is the time. This is the perfect time to go to Paris and set myself free.
Four years ago, I went to Europe for the first time. It was for ten days on a stupid school trip, but I will swear, even to this day, going to Europe changed my life. I am hardly sure how. But I know that the swirling questions and self-consciousness inside my head that pestered me throughout high school - well, they finally settled. I found something more solid and certain. My restless sense of self found a sort of definition, a new "ness" that gave me direction, inspiration, and above all, passion.
I don't expect this trip to Europe to be quite the same, because whenever I think life has decided to keep to its patterns, it swerves in an unpredictable direction. But that's why I want to document my journey - to watch myself change, as I undoubtedly will, and to remember what I learn, who I meet, what I do...and to share it with whomever cares to read.
I promise most entries won't be quite so dry as this one. I hope to include daily pictures and longer weekly entries, hopefully ones that are somewhat interesting. So that's the plan, I suppose.
I leave for Paris in 9 days. I am...more emotions than I could ever find the time and vocabulary to describe.
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