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.

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

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

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.

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.

JOIE

So, I found out today I'm officially sharing a homestay with Meredith! I AM SOOOO EXCITED!!!!!

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.