C'est quoi cette ville, cette Paris?

As the days get longer, and as time grows shorter (especially as my leisure-time approaches zero like a limit out of hell), I think it would be appropriate to begin the reflection phase, in order to not leave everything until the day I'm leaving and the 12 hour flight home. Granted, 12 hours is a lot of time to think about something, but there are movies to watch and "sleep" to catch, so, why bother thinking?

In any case, there are only three more weeks left here in the city of lights, the city of Sartre and de Beauvoir, of the Bastille and of the Grands Boulevards. In the city of me. I mean, you never know until you start thinking about it how much you're going to miss a place, and perhaps I should take heed that I've started to feel homesick. After all, my homesickness is not so much homesickness as it is a sense of hyper-regularity and total normalcy that has become life in Paris. Weird, right, that life can become "normal" even in a city as unusual, as cutting-edge, as vivante as Paris. And ultimately the wanderlust inside of me I think has caught up with me, to such an extent that Orange County seems almost exotic (I have been away from it for forever), or at least comfortable. But the point is, when you start to feel homesick, that's a sign that you're going to miss the place your in infinately more than you know.

That in mind, I have been doing my best to go out and see the city, to see the museums and the cafes and the people and all the things that I idealized in my mind before coming here but never really got to know. Mostly, this means an attempt to find good food. Because there is no better way to experience a foreign place than through it's food, even if that food is decidedly foreign from that place itself. So, the highlights of me week thus far? Well, yesterday was pretty amazing: dinner at a classy Indian restaurant in Montmartre for 28 euro, which really is quite affordable when it includes a bottle of wine. On top of that there was this morning's "American breakfast" at Coffee parisien (a sort of a mix between everything Franglish and a New York diner)...there were pancakes, which is really all that matters. (For future reference to French people learning English: A crèpe is not a pancake, it is a crepe! We know what crepes are in America, and in England, so...you know, stop calling them pancakes!!!) So yeah, good eats. I also saw La Vie des autres (Das Leben der Anderen, The Lives of Others) avec Colleen on Friday night. That was exceedingly, uh, "cute." Shut up, cute is a totally masculine word. It was fun to watch a German movie subtitled in French though, without any English context at all. I love German, I wish I spoke it.


Right, so back to the point. It's about time I start compiling a list of the things I will miss most/the things I love most about Paris. So, with that in mind, entry number one: les courses. For the English-speaking public out there, this means grocery shopping. Granted, I didn't get to go shopping that often, since dinner is provided for me and I'm not supposed to use (read: I don't really feel comfortable using) my host mother's cookware. But what I do know is this: if I had an apartment on my own in Paris, grocery shopping would be so much more enjoyable than it would be stateside, even in New York or any other walkable city. For one people cart around their little grocery bags on wheels, or if you spend over 50 euro you can have the menial labor at the super market take your groceries to your door (supposing you live within like a reasonable walking distance). And, once you've bought the meat (that you need to cook today or else it will literally expire...no freezing will help), the milk (which on the contrary will last in your cabinet until March 2029), the flour (which is heavily sifted and very pure), and the fruits and vegetables (which you had to weigh yourself and print out your own label for...cheating? never!) at the supermarket, you then have to go out and get the carbs and fats! So, off to the boulangerie at the corner (which happens to make the best bread in Paris according to Fromer's 2006), to the patisserie next store (sorry, the former shop was not a boulanger/patissier, like so many places), and to the fromagerie for some nice Camembert to go with the pain de tradition. If you were really hardcore you actually would have bought your meat at the boucherie too, but that is a frightful place, so you stick to the supermarche. Then you can whip up a quick dinner of potage, chicken and rice (whoops, gotta get that too), cheese & bread, and finally tarte au noix de coco or some sliced fruit or that patisserie for dessert. And of course there's wine on the side, which you picked up at Nicolas a couple days ago. Life is really hard in Paris.

So yeah, if I were to do this again, I'd get my own apartment. It'd be expensive, but really it's the only way to function when so much is at your fingertips. So what will I miss first about Paris, even though I didn't get to do it that often? Les courses, plain and simple. You have to go shopping everyday, but that way you aren't oversupplied with food. It's a clever concept really. It would never sell in the US.

But that's why they are two different cultures, is it not? Alright, off to paper-writing...

Carnivale is sort of crowded...

This weekend I travelled again. It was fun, except for the fact that I was pretty much dying of sickness the night before I left. But for the 100 euros I spent on that flight, I think it was worth it. Especially since I ended up not paying much else on the trip (thanks to a few ironically opportune mishaps and some well-coordinated sneaky moves). In any case, all of it worked out well, and the experience was great, just to get out, to get a change of scenery, to see an old friend, all of that.

So, I think the best part of the weekend is hard to identify. Bologna was nice, pretty much just a college town with the normal college town characteristics: not much to do except party on weekends (which would be nice were I and later Grace not sick), lots of young people, blah blah. Except it was in Italy, so the buildings were really cool and the streets were really twisty and confusing. Then we went to Venice, which is exactly like everything they've ever shown you of it, especially like the Venetian hotel in Las Vegas (which for some reason I keep wanting to call Paris). And Carnivale (hope I spelled it right...) was going on in Venice, which mostly involved an extremely crowded train station and people dressed in masks and tons of touristy items for sale (which I would assume is the norm, but perhaps slightly increased for Carnivale). But all in all, it was a great time, a big rush around, two sick college kids, and lots of Italyness.

Um, so that was my weekend. It was really nice to see Grace again, forgot how great our conversations can be. Yeah, not going into that, but let's just say Friday night's conversation was probably the best one I've had in awhile, if not centered around one of the most taboo topics out there. Conversations are really what make life amazing. Anyway, here's to a weekend away from home, to counting down the remaining weekends, and to getting started on three weeks of overworked hell! This is Reo...good day!

Backward and forward

It's been an interesting week. I had my first weekend in Paris in three weeks or so, always refreshing to "stay home" for the weekend. And I'm really tired, with no idea why.

But, perhaps more interesting than your run-of-the-mill weekend in Paris (read: day 1 going to a bar playing YMCA and other American classics and later walking home at 1:30am because you missed the last metro, day 2 having a vegetarian dinner and partying at la Loco, and day 3 brunch in St Germain and dinner party at the Fondation until late), was the fact that I am becoming more and more American as the days go by. Let me explain.

Last quarter what tended to get me most excited (no, not like that) and most thrilled about being in Paris was the fact that every once in awhile, usually after a "plateau" period as Patrick (French prof last quarter) called it, my French would improve and I would get closer and closer to being understood. At lunch lines or at the movie theatre I'd be able to order anything without needing to repeat myself once or twice (or more). And that was great. I was feeling more and more integrated into Parisian society each time I was mistaken for a local and asked for directions or each time my American accent (which apparently was there, though I couldn't hear it) was ignored.

Lately though, after a winter vacation in Germany that vastly improved my French (don't ask how that works), I've become lazy and uninterested in improving the language any more. I have stopped becoming annoyed when someone at the boulangerie will immediately address me in English even though I spoke to them in French, and I have even gotten to the point where I asked a if a shoe saleswoman spoke English before asking to try on shoes. Quite the change, I'd say. I don't know what it is, but somehow in my mind assimilating to the Paris culture and trying to break away from my Americanness just doesn't seem as appealing. I suppose I've come to see the Parisian tendency to dress in boring neutral colors, to never make eye contact with anyone, and to gawk when someone speaks a language other than French as foolish and as a sign of low confidence. I mean, perhaps most convincing is that many Parisians themselves walk around in bright yellow coats or wearing orange dress shirts or something equally "outrageous" and just don't give a damn about the stares and the onlookers. Or they stare straight back, confronting gazes with a certain forcefulness and rancor. Perhaps they know that the onlookers are only envious.

In any case, when it comes down to the problems and the struggles in French society and the mess-ups and the wrong turns in American culture, well, let's just say at least I can get a handle on the American ones. Immigration and race issues are divisive issues in France as in the US, but at least stateside we can admit that certain racial groups are less favored than others because we can find survey data based on race. I mean, maybe it is best that all cultures be able to mix rather than carving out their own territory (the French ideal), but how can they mix if they're not even allowed to talk about their cultural identity. Likewise, maybe there are some things that the government should stay out of and leave a little open, rather than create infinitely more bureaucracy and confusion by trying to intervene. I mean, sometimes American government is the model, and for good reason, even if it is led by GW.

So how does this play out for me? Well, on the one hand I'm feeling increasingly more homesick for the ability to dress how I like and to be able to communicate readily without thinking through every word before I say it. Don't get me wrong, Paris is an amazing city, probably the most amazing I have ever known, but being here is starting to feel constratining. It's nice to know I've made progress in French, and the experience of being here has I'm sure made me like 20 times more confident and self-aware than I was before in addition to radically changing the way I see the world, but I think I've just about reached the point where enough is enough. So, I'll get through the next five weeks I assume focusing mostly on the overwhelming amount of work I have to do, and then I'll get home and revel in Americanism. But then again, perhaps this is just another plateau, one I will hopefully break through just in time to get the most out of my last few weeks in this city. Because in the end, leaving Paris is like leaving a dear friend: there's an incompleteness and a sense of detachment that will keep you trying as hard as you can to come back. Don't be surprised if one day I end up working in Paris, at least for a few years. It's just the way it goes.

Liberated in Normandy

Have you ever been somewhere and known it to be perhaps the most unhappy place you have ever seen, only to be reminded of the horrors that exist elsewhere around the world, horrors that you are too untravelled or too naive or too close-minded to have seen? It has been only a couple of months since I last went to Normandy, and going back I found it to be just as sad and heartwrenching a place as it was last time. It's not that the people there aren't happy (they are quite joyful, in fact) nor that the countryside is desolate and boring (rolling hills, dramatic cliffscapes, the most beautifully rain-nourished grass anywhere...), nor is it that anything horrible has happened there recently. Throughout it's history, though, Normandy has been at the center of the conflicts that have defined Europe, conflicts from William the Conquerer and his ride to the British Isles through almost every great war of history. Of course, worst of all was Normandy's involvement in WWII, Normandy's complete destruction by the bombings from it's "liberators" the Allies, the deaths of thousands of men on it's beaches and in it's ravaged villages.

In any case, the trip to Normandy was really quite enjoyable, but perhaps not in the normal sense of how you enjoy something. You see, I'm the type--and I'm pretty sure I'm not alone in this--who likes to experience things the way they were, to experience the horrible and the inhuman for what they were, to try to understand somehow how something so terrible could arise. I'm not talking about Hitler and the Holocaust, because that's hard enough to find in Germany let alone in Normandy, but more so about how young men can be driven so directly not only to kill and to destroy but also to criminalize and dehumanize an enemy in their minds to the extent that that killing becomes justifiable and right. I have trouble doing that in my mind, but I have to admit that if I had been told of Hitler's atrocities, I can't say that I wouldn't turn into a brutal killing machine myself (or, perhaps better, be killed 10 seconds after getting out of the boat on the beach at Omaha). Interestingly enough, the double viewing of Saving Private Ryan on our bus and the Caen Memorial and all of it were my favorite experiences in awhile because there were a few moments in there when I really felt a small hint of what it must have been like to be in that situation, to face that horror and fear and adrenaline. Then again, maybe I'm just a masochist.

Anyway, Normandy was, is, will always be amazing. It really reminds people like me, people of my generation how untouched by difficulty our lives have been. Since we were born, there has been no major threat from a Hitler or a Mussolini or any type like that, though numerous dictators have risen to power and ruthlessly killed their own countrymen just the same. The threat of nuclear warfare does not hang over our heads in the way it did during the Cold War, in the way that a major power seriously threatened to wipe out an entire landscape, though the situation with nuclear weapons has by no means become peaceful. The greatest fear we have faced is probably that of terrorism, but we do not have an enemy to focus all our rage on (despite what officials might say), we do not seriously need to adjust our lifestyle because we might go down in a plane crash...there's really nothing to do to prevent it, and if it does, oh well. I guess in the end, I feel like my generation is extremely lucky, but in some light we are also extremely unsure of what to do should something arise. Would we really recognize it, if something did come up? Would we really rise to the call, should we be called to defend abstract ideas like "Democracy" and "Liberty"? Or has the blunder of wars like Vietnam and now Iraq driven the unconditional belief in such ideas out of our heads? Would it be worth it to send all of our resources or all of our young men into a conflict, or have we reached an era and a technological advancement where that's no longer necessary? Is anything even in black and white, divided clearly between good and evil, anymore?

I don't know what that means, and I don't know if it's even necessary to reflect on it. Ideally war would just be erased from the human consciousness. But somehow I doubt that is possible. But I wonder, have we advanced further toward a lasting peacefulness, if not a denial of tensions? Or have we gone backward, unwilling to defend our core values because we no longer know how core they are? I'm not pro-war by any means, but I do sort of wonder what it means to truly believe that democracy, liberty, and hell even capitalism are the undeniably right way to live. Normands today still question the value of a a liberation that destroyed most of the historical buildings and towns of their region. Perhaps liberty isn't always the most important thing. Perhaps the outsider's judgement isn't always right. But then again, what would Europe today be like had the liberation failed? I don't want to know, that's for sure.

Gone for the weekend, be back Monday...as usual

It's been quite awhile since I've seen this thing, and like most old acquaintances and long forgotten toys it's just like it was before. Well, okay, so maybe it's not that amazing that the interface of a blog has remained the same, but still, it's still important to note that things from the past have their ways of staying the same...

Yeah, that was totally unphilosophical in every way. So, let's just get on with it. Last weekend was an amazing weekend! It's hard to look back on it now and write about it in detail, but suffice it to say that the French Alps are probably the most amazing of places on earth. I mean, for one you have snow, two there's amazingly fulfilling food that's perfect for the cold (mostly composed of cheese and vin chaud), and three, well, it's the Alps! I mean, c'mon. Yeah, so needless to say, Stanford (unofficial) trip to the Alps was sort of like a ski trip back home, except it took nine hours in a cramped bus to get there (though a TGV exists) and it was in Europe, so infinitely better than Tahoe, which in itself is infinitely better than the mountains in SoCal (Big Bear, what???). Yeah, so amidst days skiing on semi-icy slopes (talk about a bad place to be a true beginner), nights cooking and eating the most amazing group meals on record, and late nights either drinking in house or (over) drinking at the "welcome drink" provided free by our host company...well, let's just say it was a whirlwind of craziness.

So yeah, now I'm currently packing to go to Normandy, for which we will depart, on our Bing trip, in an hour. I've been to every single place we're going to before, so I'm not looking forward to seeing much in the way of new stuff, but still...the food and the people and all that should make it. And, I mean, Normandy is probably the best part of France so what's there to lose? And there's always Calvados and cidre and sandwiches americains to get me by. Like the Alps, Normandy has mastered one thing and mastered it well: unhealthy food.

So, I hope everyone stateside is having as exciting a time as I am here, but I am inclined to believe that that is not the case. Nonetheless, enjoy your homework and midterms and frat parties and all that, and think of me exploring the Alps, or Normandy, or in two weeks Bologna. Yeah, why isn't travel this easy in the US? In California, I should say. That would be ideal. Right, en tout cas, bon week-end! A toute!