March madness: excursions

More on the past two months!

Over my February break, I went to visit Lynn Edmonds, a fellow Winsor '06 graduate, in Thessaloniki, Greece, for a week. I spent 5 days in Thessaloniki with Lynn and her grandparents, and took the train down to Athens by myself for two days, where I stayed with her aunt. I was exposed to so much beauty: in the sweep of the mountains, the ocean, the Mediterranean forests; the incredible classical architecture and sculptures; and interesting Byzantine art. A tour guide said that a humanistic civilization developed in Greece because the landscape is human-sized, which I thought was an interesting hypothesis. Thessaloniki is the second-largest city in Greece, and was the Byzantine and Ottoman Empires' second city; it's a manageable size, but still full of surprises. There were ancient city walls, ancient Greek and Roman ruins, elaborately decorated Greek Orthodox churches, maze-like outdoor markets, and bouzoukia, or restaurants with musicians playing traditional Greek music on the mandolin (bouzouki). It was my first time in a country where I didn't speak the language, which was tough sometimes, especially given the fact that Lynn's grandparents don't speak any English. I kept reading signs in Greek to myself slowly like a preschooler, guessing words from their roots, and feeling like an outsider. (It was strange, though; people thought I was Greek, to the extent where people would ask me for directions, and would ask me whether my parents were Greek when I said I was American. I apparently look very Mediterranean.) It was great to hang out with Lynn, and to connect over the things we have in common: our Winsor experiences, doing a gap year, and living pretty independently in Europe.

I've also had some great experiences closer to home. I made a trip last weekend to my (French) friend Anais's country house for a weekend to get a taste of a different side of France along with 12 other French young adults, and met a farming family with dense, almost incomprehensible accents. They gave us some freshly laid goose eggs, which we took back and cooked. I also went to the Salon de l'Agriculture, a farming exhibit that is a major political event. The huge convention center at Porte de Versailles was filled with farmers in suits and boots leading prize cows, donkeys, dogs, horses, goats and sheep around, and pig competitions were placed in classic French style next to stalls selling pork and sausages. The presidential candidates, including Francois Bayrou the centrist who actually used to be a farmer, came to publicize their dedication to France's agriculture.

My friendships have also been coming along. For my birthday in February, I organized a picnic in the Parc de Vincennes' Parc Floral (Botanical Garden). 11 of us (including four French people) dined on wine, bread, cheese from the famous fromagerie Barthelemy, homemade quiche, lasagna, grapes and of course cake. The conversation was in both French and English, and the Americans taught the French people how to play Duck-Duck-Goose in exchange for the rules of French games. It was a beautiful day, and a great way to celebrate a birthday. (The second picture is of my friends from the Israeli dance class after we demonstrated a dance for the assembled company: Benjamin is in back, and Michael and his girlfriend Marylou are in front.)

I'm continuing to enjoy the AYA cultural excursions, and I've been adding on to them on my own. We’ve seen two concerts, one by the Sorbonne orchestra last night, and several plays, including a fantastic performance of “Le malade imaginaire” by Molière and the famous “Cyrano de Bergerac”, both at the Comédie Francaise. I recently started going to the free medieval music concerts at the Musée Cluny, which feature period instruments like the rebec (a string instrument), a sort of saxophone made of horn, a zither, and shells rubbed together. Two nights ago, I attended a comedy festival called “Rire contre le racisme”, which featured black, Arab and Jewish comedians and singers banding together against racism and the divisions often found in French society. It was a great window into French popular culture, and an event that showed the willingness for change, as well as being enjoyable. I was able to exercise my newfound knowledge of “verlan”, the French slang that inverses syllables of words, which some of my French friends have taught me. The comedians used words like “guedin” for “dingue” or crazy, “chelou” for “louche” (ugly), “moeuf” for “femme”, and “roeum” for “mère”. C’est un truc tout guedin, quoi? (It’s a really cool thing, right?)

Another recent event was St. Patrick's Day. Hoping to check out an organic food market (which wasn't open on Saturdays), I went to Montmartre on St. Patrick's Day morning, only to find a full-blown Scottish festival in time for a Scotland-France rugby game. I saw some bagpipers and drummers in kilts drinking beer in front of le Cafe Saint Jean, which they called "a good pub", and talked to them for a bit. Turns out we hardly speak the same language, but it was fun anyway. I translated an article about the festival in a local paper to them, and took a picture. Later on, I hung out with Christine (from AYA) and company, including her Romanian romantic interest and her Basque friend, at her apartment, and listened to lots of Irish music. Her father plays in an Irish music band. Then we went out for Guinness in true St. Patty's fashion- just a sip, although it's legal for me to drink here. All day long, I also saw lots of (mostly fashionably reserved) wearing of green and heard many Irish and Scottish accents on the metro.

Altogether, I'm trying to squeeze as much as possible from my remaining 10 weeks. There are always new things to discover in this wonderful city and old haunts to return to. Now that I have filled out my cast of characters everything is more meaningful because I can share it with others.

March madness: the basics

This is a preliminary post, because I just wrote a complete one and my computer rebooted unexpectedly. So here's a bit of an update on my last two months.

After a relatively empty fall semester, I decided to schedule a much tighter one for the spring. I'm taking four academic courses, auditing one, and taking an art class; I'm also babysitting and working as a Hebrew School teacher. All the same, I've been trying to fully experience what the city has to offer.

After a full semester in Sorbonne classes, I decided I wanted to challenge myself more this semester. I'm taking five classes: two at the Sorbonne, one at the Institut Catholique, and two with the AYA program at Reid Hall. The Institut Catholique is a private university which offers classes on religion, for the reason that France is strictly secular and will not use public money for religious purposes. (It's interesting to see how this contrasts with the US; one result of this "laicite" is the ban on head scarves in public schools.) Besides religion, it also has very good philosophy and political science departments, and has a more American-style feel with smaller classes and more teacher-student interaction. I'm taking a class there called "History of International Relations since 1945", with an excellent teacher who also teaches at Sciences Po, France's grande ecole for politics. It's been a very compelling class, and has introduced me to a subject I really don't know much about from a non-American perspective. Actually, I'm preparing a presentation on the results of 9/11 from a French perspective; it's a good exercise in changing my point of view. At the Sorbonne, I'm taking a class on Impressionist art history; this is absolutely the best place to study it, and I'm enjoying my free admission into the Musee d'Orsay. I'm also taking a translation class with French students in the English department; we translate from French to English and English to French. It's harder than I thought; think translating a passage from "Lolita" into French and trying to keep the poetry and connotations, or a hymn, preserving the rhyme scheme and level of language. Still, it's nice to have the other kids in the class, and even the teacher asking me what sounds natural to me as a native English speaker. Finally, at Reid Hall, I'm taking the continuation of the French Cinema class (I'm auditing it) and a class on the Fifth Republic and French political history, which is coming in handy as the presidential election gets closer and closer.

I'm also painting for six hours a week at a private atelier (studio) near the Pere Lachaise cemetery, for the full French art experience I've been hearing about in my art history class. There are about 30 regulars, mostly French, but also some Japanese and Americans who are passing through or live in Paris, including four other American college students. Everyone comes in when they want to, and can choose to paint the model who poses nude for four hours a day (the model changes each week) or the two still lives, while a teacher comes around and gives suggestions. Although I'd had some life drawing experience before, I just started oil painting. That too is harder than I expected, but definitely rewarding. Like an essay, you're never really finished with an oil painting; you can always add more detail, or paint over indefinitely. I'll post some pictures later of some of my work.

I'm also working, which has been liberating. I'm still babysitting for Chiara, the daughter of the American jazz singer. In February, I joined an American synagogue here, and it turned out that one of their Hebrew School teachers had just moved away from France and they needed a new one. I went to Hebrew High School through 11th grade and attended a teacher training program senior year, so I was qualified, and they hired me to teach sixth graders and take care of 3-6 year-olds. Luckily, the classes are in English, not French. For the time being, I'm working with another teacher, but in a week or two I'll be handling the classes entirely on my own. It's a challenge, but I love the kids.

More specifics coming soon!