Jusqu'ici, tout va bien

 

     I don't really know how, but it's easy to forget how lucky I am to be living in Paris. Maybe it's because life here has become so routine that I forget that it's really the Eiffel Tower that I'm looking at from my desk when I'm typing out my papers and blog posts or that I forget if the conversation I just had was in French or English. When I'm falling asleep at night, the Eiffel Tower's search light lights up my room as it passes. Everything is just so normal, so quotidien, that I forget how far I am from home and that this, however comfortable it is, will never truly be my hometown. I cross the Seine like it's the Mississippi, but it's not. It takes looking at a map to really have it register in my brain that I'm over four thousand miles away from where I grew up. It's really humbling to constantly receive blank stares when you tell someone where you're from and they have no idea what it even is. I usually just agree with people when they think it's Indianapolis or that it's "the city with that car race." Basically my entire existence is lost on people here. Unless I tell them I was born in Texas.
     I haven't really blogged in a while because I'm such a perfectionist; if I can't write something perfectly, I lose interest. I just can't do it. This really applies to school. I feel like my brain is so muddled all the time and that I'm being pulled in so many directions that I can't be as productive as I need to be. My directed study adviser, after I was obviously struggling to stay awake during our one-on-one meeting, told me to eat more fruits and vegetables because "Il faut nourrir le cerveau comme les muscles." She's right. I can't realistically keep eating a baguette, a croissant and a ham-and-cheese sandwich for every meal (Yes, I ate all of those as one meal on Friday).
    This brings me to school. I have four or five weeks left until the semester is over and I have to write a twenty-page research paper, write a 5,000 word travel essay, write a travel feature article, prepare and teach a translation workshop, read two books and finish translating the article "La force des cultures" by Philippe d'Iribarne. Most of the time I feel like I'm treading water and my head keeps bobbing below the surface. And that is a horribly stressful simile because I'm terrible at treading water. I never passed all six levels at swimming lessons and had to retake level four three or four times. So this is how I feel about school, essentially--like I'm drowning.
     No matter how much I love Paris, I constantly think about how easy it would be if I didn't throw myself into this situation. What if I had just graduated from college, gotten a job and found an apartment? That definitely would've been easier than shelling out all the money to live in one of the most expensive arrondissements in one of the world's most expensive cities and less mentally taxing than having to say everything, however minor, in another language. I miss coming downstairs in the morning and people are happy to see me. But I was meant to be a drifter. I mean, the signs that I'd one day live abroad were already there when I was eight and writing travel journals.
     On Monday last week, I received an email that I would be having my OFII (Office Français de l'Immigration et de l'Intégration) medical appointment. This appointment is required for anyone staying in France longer than six months (correct me if I'm wrong) and is necessary for attaining your titre de séjour, which validates your visa. So if the whole CampusFrance and visa appointment process wasn't enough, I still had work to do. AUP's immigration services office continually reassured me that I had done everything correctly and that the OFII was swamped with an abnormal amount of applicants, so we all had to have patience. With one day's notice, I had to track down all the necessary documents (birth certificate, passport, take pictures in a Photomaton booth, buy 58 euros worth of timbres fiscaux, find my housing certification and pick up my convention from the immigration director), take off work and head to their office on the rue de la Roquette near Bastille for my medical appointment, which is just bullshit bureaucracy so the French government knows that I'm healthy and can stay in France and not infect their people. We were warned that if we missed this appointment, we would become "illegal citizens on the French territory" and thus be deported or fined or imprisoned if we were caught. Maybe all of the above. Unfortunately, with racial profiling as prevalent as it is in the U.S., the likelihood of me being asked for an ID by a police officer is relatively low, but nevertheless I didn't want to get my ass banned from France, so I made sure I was on time.

The required Photomaton photos for OFII

     The day was sunny and warm and I got to Bastille early. When I left the sortie, I started smiling--I really missed the place! My internship at French Travel Partners on the rue Amelot and the nightlife back in 2012 made Bastille a hub of memories for me. I don't spend a lot of time in the onzième anymore, so it's probably one of the few places in Paris that remains part of my study abroad experience and hasn't been changed by my current life here. I like that.
     The obvious thing for me to do with the awkward hour I had before my appointment was to head to my beloved Place des Vosges. I can't tell you how weird it is to realize that the last time I smelled the seafood coming from the Bar à Huitres on the boulevard Beaumarchais and turned the corner to see all the pigeons and kids and elderly people filling out the square--Paris's oldest--was more than a year and a half ago. It's some serious déjà vu and still a little sad for me that I'm the only one of my friends that came back. But again, I know I'm ridiculously lucky. The first time I ever came to the Place des Vosges, I was borderline map illiterate and constantly in fear of screwing up at my internship. I'd eat my croissant and ham-and-cheese sandwich, dropping about half my croissant on the ground accidentally for the pigeons and thinking I might not make it until the end of the semester. Sitting there now, on "my" bench (the third one in in the northeast corner) I was remembering how much I loved Paris then (despite my worries) and how I promised myself that I'd come back and do it all over again. I guess I'm pretty good at keeping promises.

Last lunch break in 2012 in Place des Vosges

I was such a professional at FTP

     The actual OFII appointment went just fine. It was my first experience with French doctors and overall they're really the same as American doctors; they're just a bit more nonchalant about privacy and tend to sit really close to you. I walked out less than an hour later with the sticker in my passport that basically says "Dude, it's alright. Rachel's with me." for anyone questioning why I'm here. I'm a resident of France now, kids!
     Other than work, school and residency appointments, I'm continuing to meet new people almost everyday, which is a beautiful part about living in a huge city. Thankfully, everyone we meet has been really enthusiastic about speaking both English and French with us and there's no shortage of good times. I miss everyone from home, but I'm doing my best to not let it be a crutch that prevents me from living out my dream of being here and meeting new people and learning about the world. I really wouldn't trade any of this for any other situation and someday I know I'll love helping people do what I've been fortunate enough to have done myself.

I miss you, you who's reading this, and if you're from Minnesota, see you in a month!

Love,
Rachel

Scroll down for my favorite pictures from the last few weeks. All my pictures are up on my Flickr.

Jardin du Luxembourg

Jardin du Luxembourg

Raspail station

Promenade Plantée, one of the spots Céline takes Jesse in Before Sunset

Bois de Vincennes

Café de Flore

Jardin du Luxembourg

Pont Louis Philippe

Christmas decorations on the Ile St-Louis

Fun times with friends

Oops!...I Did It Again

   "I'm not sure what I'll do, but- well, I want to go places and see people. I want my mind to grow. I want to live where things happen on a big scale."

               -F. Scott Fitzgerald

---------------- 

     Well here I am again. Paris is as I remember, and in some ways I am, too. People are walking around in the 70 degree weather in scarves and what I’d consider winter jackets. I’m still the métro pro that I once was- I haven’t had to pull out my trusty Paris Plan even though I always have it on me and I’ve been riding it all over the place in the less than 24 hours that I’ve been here. The only things that have changed are that southbound on line four is now called ‘Montrouge’ instead of ‘Porte d’Orléans’ and Notre-Dame has what I can only describe as giant bleachers in its square (Maybe something to do with its 850^th anniversary?) Oh, and that my friends from Central aren’t here. And I also have no friends to speak of. Yet.

     I got into Paris at around 6 P.M. last night after my flights were delayed about three times, thus screwing me out of the €40 I spent on a pre-arranged shuttle and another €60 for the cab ride I had to take instead. The cab driver immediately started in on wanting to talk about the U.S. involvement in Syria and turned up the radio commentary he was listening to. I had no energy to give any input.

     I got to the FIAP Jean Monnet, where I’ll be staying temporarily until my housing is decided, dropped my things off in my room and went to Bir-Hakeim to see the Eiffel Tower. I don’t know what the hell kind of athlete I used to be, but that is a long walk compared to what I remembered. Alone, I found a patch of grass on the Champ de Mars and watched as it sparkled at dusk, then I bought a sandwich and sat up at Trocadéro. In Paris for mere hours, a woman sat down next to me and asked me when it sparkles because I guess I seem like I know my way around. (My cab driver had even asked me “Vous connaissez bien Paris?” Yes.) It was perfect, but lonely.

Pont de l'Archévêché

Park behind Notre-Dame. Paris is so empty!

Quai de la Tournelle

Bleachers. Am I right or am I right?

Place des Vosges

In Paris for an hour or two, and this is where I head.

Central's Office on rue Henri Barbusse

         I had to be out of my room for the night at the FIAP by 9:30 this morning so I left the building with no plans and métro-ed it from Glacière to Vavin and then spent all morning wandering on foot to familiar places since I don’t have any familiar faces- my internship placement agency’s office, Central College Abroad’s office, St-Michel, my internship office at French Travel Partners, Notre-Dame, the Pompidou, Place des Vosges and all the way to St-Sébastien-Froissart. I don’t know if it’s a morning thing, a Sunday thing, a basically-still-August thing or a hungover-from-Saturday thing, but the city felt empty to me. I also searched for the padlock I put on the Pont de l’Archévêché for Central. No luck. The search will continue.

     In the Place des Vosges, I sat on a bench, dropping crumbs on accident for the pigeons like old times, and I wondered if this is what I’m supposed to be doing with my life. This is the part I hate about going abroad. The being alone part and the initial panic. I really don’t feel any culture stress other than feeling very, very alone. I think this is almost harder than last time, because this time, I was aware of how lonely it was going to be and it takes a lot of energy to not succumb to how sad it is.  I know it’s only been day one and orientation hasn’t even started, but I have doubts. Am I smart enough? Do I know French well enough to study translation? Will I have friends? Is this worth my time and money? Should I have just gone on a trip to Paris? I’m not sure. This is the biggest adult decision I’ve ever made and I don’t know if I should trust myself.

Sidenote: I have to remember to drop the habit of smiling as a means of being friendly. A woman came out of a door on the empty rue Chevreuse and I was standing nearby, so naturally, I smiled when we made eye contact. She looked at me as though I’d pulled a knife on her. 

Paris When It Sizzles

     I refuse to put a number on the days I have left in Paris, so I won't. I've been avoiding looking at my calendar because I don't want to see what the date is, which is probably a terrible idea since I've been scatter-brained lately as a result. I remember my first day here, wide-eyed and terrified of the métro, pulling out my map at every corner and all together believing I had made a huge mistake in coming here. After giving it some time, I really think this has been the greatest adventure of my life so far. I can't express how important and meaningful these past few months have been for me. I've made some lifelong friends and I can't really think about leaving them without getting a little misty.
     I had one last meeting today with the program that found me my internship and we discussed our next career steps, like working on our CVs, keeping in touch with employers and how to approach future interviews. We were told not to sound too excited or enthusiastic about Paris or the prospective employer may think we'll leave the company. I thought this was funny- how can I lie about Paris, especially if I'm seeking a job in the travel industry with degrees in French and Cross-Cultural Studies and a minor in International Relations? C'est impossible. 

Parc des Buttes Chaumont

Le Penseur at the Rodin Museum

Giverny

     Now that my time here is slipping away through my fingers, the weather has become absolutely beautiful. Instead of finishing up classes, I'd much rather be laying in the Jardin du Luxembourg or watching Paris from the steps of the Sacré-Cœur. It's been a mad dash to stuff my face with croissants and pains au chocolat while making progress on my Paris To-Do list. In the past week I've visited several parks (Parc des Buttes Chaumont, Parc Montsouris, Parc de la Villette), cafés (Les Deux Magots), museums (Rodin) and churches (Saint Sulpice, Saint Germain-des-Près), snapping pictures and practically running to the next one, Amazing Race-style. I think I have to edit my list. 
     On Saturday, our group visited Claude Monet's home and gardens at Giverny. It was very beautiful, very crowded and very short. As always, I wish we had more time to fully get a feel for the place, but to be completely honest, Monet is not my favorite. His waterlilies are beautiful, yes, but I think I really prefer paintings with more drama and emotion than plants. 
     Since the weather has improved, we're planning on going to Versailles on Thursday since we got rained out last week. 

Rachel

The Hottest Spot in the Universe

"You know, I sometimes think, how is anyone ever gonna come up with a book, or a painting, or a symphony, or a sculpture that can compete with a great city. You can't. Because you look around and every street, every boulevard, is its own special art form and when you think that in the cold, violent, meaningless universe that Paris exists, these lights, I mean come on, there's nothing happening on Jupiter or Neptune, but from way out in space you can see these lights, the cafés, people drinking and singing. For all we know, Paris is the hottest spot in the universe."              

- Midnight in Paris, 2011

     The listmaker that I am, I have spent the last week or so trying to get through my "Things to Do in Paris" list, but it just keeps growing. I don't think I'll ever have enough time in Paris. I had one week off before classes- which was Thursday- and now I'm in the midst of another week break until this Thursday. As difficult as my internship was, it was completely worth it, especially now that I only go to class maybe twice a week, depending on if it's a jour férié or not. I feel spoiled, but then I remember how I interned for twenty-three hours a week plus I had to complete my rapport de stage (internship report) last week- 3,000 words, altogether twenty-two pages. In between seeing the sights, there was a two or three day period where I only left my computer to eat. I think it's fair to say that I've worked hard and now I get my time to simply enjoy Paris.

     I've sketched, picnicked and walked through the Jardin du Luxembourg, Parc Monceau and on the Champ de Mars, made a quick visit to the Orsay, rented vélib' bikes (Paris's bike rental system) in the Bois de Vincennes, Paris's larger, better version of Central Park, sipped a glass of Bordeaux blanc in the Place du Tertre in Montmartre, shopped on the Champs-Élysées and tried out a lot of the cafés, crêperies, boulangeries, brasseries and bars in my neighborhood around Pernety. I've done so many things and chatted with so many Parisians late into the night. It's been really interesting being here during the presidential elections, since people were really torn between Sarkozy and Hollande (Hollande won last night). It's been fun hearing what French people think about our politics and their own and then debating back and forth. I've also been constantly informed lately of how "American" I look and how tall I am, as if I didn't know the latter. I might've spoken more conversational French in the past week than all semester. 

Gelato and shopping

Picnicking at dusk on the Champ de Mars

Meeting new people at the Eiffel Tower

The Orsay

Renting bikes in the Bois de Vincennes

The Champs-Élysées decked out in French flags for the election

     Paris, for me, is magic. Out of all the big cities I've been to, like New York City, Rome and London, Paris is the one that has everything a person could ever want in a city (except, perhaps, sunny weather). It has outrageously good food (I just had canard the other night and it was almost too good), the best cafés and bakeries, reliable transportation, enough museums to make a person insane and when you want a break to block out the sound of relentless traffic, the Bois de Boulogne and the Bois de Vincennes that hug the city on either side. Can you tell I love it here?

     Tomorrow I'm finally making my way out to Versailles. I've been looking forward to going back there for six years since I've done so much research, read so many books and written so many papers about Marie Antoinette and the French monarchy since my last visit. It'll definitely be a nerd moment.

Until next time,

Rachel

Here's to your first job in Paris!

        "That Paris exists and anyone could choose to live anywhere else in the world will always be a mystery to me."
-Midnight in Paris, 2011

     I feel like I'm in a dream. It's like I've been here for ages and I still have to think for a minute that I'm here. Last night I had a dream, a nightmare, really, that the semester was over and that I was home in Minnesota. Not to say that I don't love home, but seeing as I've been waiting for Paris for six years, I try to sweep those thoughts of leaving under the rug.
     I'm ridiculously happy all the time here, too. Despite bad days at my internship, getting my laundry stuck in the machines countless times and more choses à faire than I would prefer, I can't help but find myself smiling on the métro, sandwiched in between the man who needs to stop staring and take a much-needed shower and a sea of Longchamp bags. I don't know if it's the 200-calorie-croissants (And I rarely eat just one) or what, but there's no other place in the world that I'd rather be. I think Gil Pender said it pretty well in Midnight in Paris:

You know, I sometimes think, how is anyone ever gonna come up with a book, or a painting, or a symphony, or a sculpture that can compete with a great city? You can't. Because you look around and every street, every boulevard, is its own special art form and when you think that in the cold, violent, meaningless universe that Paris exists, these lights, I mean come on, there's nothing happening on Jupiter or Neptune, but from way out in space you can see these lights, the cafés, people drinking and singing. For all we know, Paris is the hottest spot in the universe.

     This week is my eighth and final week as an intern for French Travel Partners. Though at times it's been really difficult, it has really been the best way for me to use my French skills in speaking. Our classes at the Catholic Institute are made up of almost all Americans and there's not as much of a participation aspect in French classes, so this is the biggest chunk of my week that I have had to communicate entirely in French with my coworkers and clients. I've also made so much improvement in my ability to write formally, since I send out about fifteen demandes de réservation a day to French hotels. It'll be wonderful to have four-day weekends plus Wednesdays off, but I'll miss lunching in the Place des Vosges, my jambon-beurre sandwich from my boulevard Beaumarchais bakery and my coworkers that have been extremely welcoming and kind to me. Saying goodbye will be a little triste, and I'm glad to have had such a rare opportunity to do something like this. I'll probably never be able to say again that I had to visit the Eiffel Tower and the Louvre for my job.

The Catacombs of Paris

Easter mass at Notre-Dame

     This weekend, after three attempts, I finally made it to the Catacombs, which is in my neighborhood. Some two-hundred steps under all the noisy streets and crooked buildings, the Catacombs are lined with an innumerable amount of skulls and bones from as far back as the eighteenth century. It's surreal to think, as you're taking a flashless photo of a yellowing skull, that this used to be a living, breathing human being that's now anonymous. It's a weird experience.
     On Sunday, we went to Easter mass at Notre-Dame. The line to get in stretched out onto the Left Bank, so we had to wait for a long time to get in. The service was in Latin and in French, so I couldn't understand much of it through the swarms of people taking pictures, but now I can say for the rest of my life that I was there for Easter!
     Starting this coming Saturday, I'll be on spring break, traveling to Venice, Rome and Santorini, Greece until April 25. The Trevi Fountain must really be magic, since I'll be back in Rome so soon after studying there last May! I'll also be celebrating my twenty-first birthday in Greece, which I never imagined would ever happen.

Until next time,
Rachel

Je pense, donc je suis…fatiguée.

     As much as I love Paris, I am exhausted. Sometimes, okay a lot of the time, I sit at my desk at my internship and I ask myself over and over again, why did I agree to do this, again? (Answer: Because where would I be interning in Minneapolis for French?) I have twenty-three hours of internship a week and twelve hours of classes, which amounts to thirty-five hours of work a week- coincidentally that's how many hours the French work a week- and on top of that I need to study, cook dinner, write my 3,000-word rapport de stage (In French) and also have time to enjoy myself in this city that I love. I stay up late most nights just trying to wrap my head around everything that's going on (Case in point: It's 2:39 AM right now.). I'm habitually late, so I show up to my internship and classes at least five minutes late everyday and try my best to keep my nodding-off-in-my-chair to a minimum. During my forty minute commute to and from work in the eleventh arrondissement, I try getting some reading done but even then my eyes start fluttering and I have to close my book. Tonight we went to see "Don Giovanni" at Bastille and I think I was awake and paying attention for twenty minutes. Classical music, dark theatre, I'm out like a light. All the Red Bull in the world can't save me at this point.

Rachel

We'll always have Paris

     Coming back to Paris from the south of France felt like coming home. It was nice to come back and know the city and see the familiar sights and sounds again. My internship is starting to pick up and I'm feeling like I'm actually helping for the most part. On Friday, I had to call every three-star hotel in the 10th arrondissement- a whole page- in French and see if they had available rooms. When my boss told me to do it, I thought she was kidding. She wasn't, and I had to make my way down the list. Bonjour, je cherche des chambres pour vingt-cinq personnes...Speaking on the phone isn't as hard as I thought it'd be, even though one person asked me to send a written message instead because he couldn't understand me. I'm busy all day now and I have my croissant-based lunch every day in the Place des Vosges, where I get harassed by fat little pigeons that eat the flakes of croissant that I drop. I also got a chance to draw a little bit, which made me really happy.

View from my bench in the Place des Vosges (I made a sketch of this woman)

My desk!

    It was Elise's birthday on Tuesday, so we went to the top of the Arc de Triomphe at night to take in the view, followed by sitting by the Seine with some wine for the birthday girl. It was so much fun to hang out, be really silly and to take my mind off being sad about missing my grandma's funeral, not being able to see my extended family that I never get to see and not being able to be there for my mom. My mom told me she read my last blog post at the funeral and "there wasn't a dry eye" in the audience and that it was like I was there. Hanging out was also a welcome respite from all the seriousness of having to act professional full-time during the week at work and at school and pretending to be French. And honestly, what's more beautiful than sitting by the river with wine, croissants and good conversation in Paris? I don't think it gets much better than that. Sometimes I forget this is my life.

Happy birthday, Elise!

     This weekend, my boss gave me free tickets to see Avenue Q in French, because she realized that she couldn't take her kids to see it since it's essentially a dirty version of Sesame Street. I'd already seen it a few years ago in Chicago, but I happily took the 40 euro tickets to see it in French. I guess there are a few perks to being a stagiaire!  

     And, just for kicks, here's a funny story: I was in the métro stop Châtelet today and the inevitable happened. I missed a step and landed straight on my knee, which started to bleed and swell. I spent the rest of the day hobbling around the Louvre and the Marais and I'd really prefer not to think about how the bacteria that's growing on every surface in the métro is probably now in my knee. I really need to carry a first aid kit around with me. 

Rachel

I first came to Paris...one month ago...

     As of today, one month has passed since I arrived in Paris. I feel like I've lived here all my life, but I also feel like  it's all just beginning, which is probably because I started my internship this week at French Travel Partners and my classes at the Catholic Institute of Paris.

    This is how you can tell I've been here a month: 

First week of school- it's so pretty!

      I get recognized at our favorite bars and restaurants. I take the metro most days without even looking at a map. I cook most of my meals at home, with dinner at 8 pm at the earliest. I've figured out how to do laundry (it's awful here). I read books in French during my daily commute (An hour to my internship! Yuck!). I get asked questions everywhere I go about where to find things (But I usually just say je ne sais pas). I'm starting to get picky about my bread and fruit. I sometimes have trouble speaking in English and I certainly can't spell in it anymore (Which is a shame because I was once the 4th place winner in my school spelling bee. I used to really be somebody.)

     My school is so gorgeous and I'm actually really excited that classes have started despite my "not a morning person" attitude I usually have until about noon. My classes are each 3 hours long, but they meet once a week. I'm in class Tuesday and Thursday and at my internship Monday, Wednesday and Friday for a grand total of 12 hours of class time per week and 21 at my internship. I can already tell my French has improved so much in the past month and I can't wait to see how good I'll be at the end of the semester. But actually I can wait, because I don't want this to end.

Off to the south of France tomorrow! 

Bisous,

Rachel

"When good Americans die, they go to Paris." -Oscar Wilde

     This weekend was really centered around death. I got to see the Père-Lachaise and Montparnasse cemeteries, of which the first one is one of the most beautiful places I've ever seen. Père-Lachaise is full of mossy tombs, statues and gravestones that date from all different eras and mark so many famous names, it's truly amazing. I made it to the graves of Edith Piaf, Sarah Bernhardt, Jim Morrison, Oscar Wilde (which has the tradition of being kissed) and Chopin. Even though it's a 45 minute commute, I really want to go back and find others that I missed, like Gertrude Stein and just read a book there or something. 

Kissing Oscar Wilde

     Today was not a good day. I started my internship at 9 AM, which I tried to be positive about, but it really gets old when you feel like a two-year-old all day long. I wasn't given a lot of work to do, but it was hard to understand and be understood entirely in French, especially with tourism industry-specialized words, like pax, which apparently is internationally recognized as "persons." For lunch, which is from 1-2 pm in France, it was interesting to see all the other working French go out and get their lunch to-go, as in a sandwich at a boulangerie or various hot made-from-scratch meals. What a different experience lunch during work is here. During my summer job, I speed away from work in my car to the nearest fast-food place, throw a burger in my mouth, scatter fries all over the floor while probably driving with a knee or two and then I still show up late. I'm definitely liking the lunch scene better over here. By 6 PM, I was almost nodding off and my boss thankfully let me go home. (I took myself shopping on the Champs-Élysées instead.)

     To continue my fun, I decided to do laundry. Joy! I had heard that the American who lived in my room last semester got her clothes stuck in the washing machine for three days. I put on a brave face tonight, put my coins in and hoped for the best. Guess whose clothes are stuck this semester? This girl.

    Can't wait to get away to Arles and Marseille this weekend.

Rachel

The City of Love

     This week has been particularly challenging. I had two examens this week- one on Tuesday (just a regular test for class) and one today. Today we took the Test d'Evaluation de Français (TEF) which will give us a standardized level of our French competency that we can put on our résumés. We'll be taking the test again at the end of the semester to see our progress. So basically taking the test today was for fun, since we'll (hopefully) score much better in May. It was extremely difficult, that's all I can say. I've also been having a hard time getting to class on time. On Tuesday, I rolled in 45 minutes late to our 2-hour class. It's so hard getting up in the morning when I don't get enough sleep and my room is freezing. I better not be late on Monday to my first day at French Travel Partners!

     On a happier note, the temperature is finally back up to the upper 40s, which feels like summer to me. I broke out my lighter jacket and was about ready to wear flip flops to class, too. Meanwhile, the Parisians are still wearing gloves, hats and scarves. If they think this is cold, no wonder the weather was the top story on the news when it was in the 20s. I've gotten quite a few aren't-you-cold stares since I've been walking around with an unzipped leather jacket all week. But honestly, if I tried to bundle up like everyone else, I'd have a heatstroke. I'm just too Minnesotan to pretend 45 is cold.

   I'm feeling pretty lucky that I haven't gotten sick yet, since almost everyone in our group has gotten sick in the past few weeks. As the level of hand sanitizer in my little bottle that I brought has lowered, my disgust for everything in the métro has gone up. People cough and sneeze on everything and I've seen several piles of vomit dotting the quais, as well as a man staggering around and bleeding all over the place. Since I'm so grossed out, I'm getting quite good at balancing myself on the train without holding on- the one pro of having big feet in a country that laughs when you ask for your shoe size.

     On Tuesday, us single girls (which I think is almost everyone) decided to avoid the ridiculous romance that was probably happening around town (and basically everyday) and have a girls night. We treated ourselves to tiramisù, profiteroles, rigatoni and nice white wine in the Latin Quarter, before holing ourselves for the rest of the night at the foyer with the Eiffel Tower view, trying not to think about how many romantic dates were probably going on there at that moment. C'est la vie !  

Rachel

Tiramisù, because I deserve it! (Even if I had to buy it for myself)

Our Valentine's Day!

“How sad the world is, so beautiful yet so absurd...” ― Irène Némirovsky, Suite Française

     Today I had my entretien de stage (internship interview) at French Travel Partners on the rue Amelot in the 11th arrondissement. The company organizes group stays in France and books accommodations and tours for incoming tourists. So did I prepare at all? Of course not. I rushed over there after realizing I didn't have as much time as I thought after my class, so I ran out of the Chemin Vert station and found the building just in time (The area is so beautiful!) I was given a code to enter the courtyard, but no one told me where to go inside the courtyard. After five minutes of walking in circles trying to find a way in, I buzzed myself in and went up to meet my maître de stage (boss), Béatrice. She was so kind and the interview was easier and more laid-back than any I've ever had. She told me that I speak really good French and that she'll see me soon, which is a huge compliment since she could've just hired a French intern, and not had to deal with an American. She introduced me to the others in the office, and they were all very friendly, too. I'm interning February 20th to April 13th, which falls into a really intense period of work, so I will be helping to book accommodations by phone, email and fax and help out with translation. Ten minutes after getting there, I was headed back out! Success! I feel like L.C. now with my very own fancy Paris internship. Too bad it's not for a magazine or a fashion house!

Interview outfit!

      To treat myself, I went on an adventure instead of going home. I found Shakespeare & Co., the famous English bookstore previously run by Sylvia Beach in another location. It reminded me of Diagon Alley and I also kind of felt like Jo from Funny Face in her Greenwich Village bookstore. The upstairs has a piano and places to read and lounge, which is so cool. It was so bizarre to hear everyone in the store speaking English and hearing "Oh, sorry!" when I got bumped around (It's pretty cramped). I bought The Last Time I Saw Paris by Lynn Sheene, The Most Beautiful Walk in the World: A Pedestrian in Paris by John Baxter (Who was at the store last night to promote it, but I didn't make it!) and a SIGNED copy of A Secret Kept by Tatiana de Rosnay, the author of Sarah's Key. 

     

Inside Shakespeare & Co.

Signed by Tatiana de Rosnay! (I know, it was written for someone else. Whatever.)

    

     Since I was thinking about Sarah's Key (Which is a book/movie about the Holocaust in Paris), I decided to go find the Vel' d'Hiv' near the Bir-Hakeim station right by the Eiffel Tower. The Vel' d'Hiv' was a bicycle racing stadium that the French government had used to detain 28,000 arrested Jews for a few days before they were sent to Auschwitz in 1942. The building is gone now and is replaced by lots of industrial buildings, but there is a memorial to apologize for the government's actions in a small area by the river, the Place des Martyrs-Juifs-du-Velodrome-d'Hiver. It was so cold, but at least that meant I was the only one there. I'm going to find the rue de Saintonge some other day, which is the street in the book where Sarah's family was taken from their apartment in the Marais. It's so strange to think that the Holocaust touched Paris. You'd never know what happened by just looking around and snapping pictures of the Eiffel Tower, which is only about a block away.

Rachel

"N'oublions jamais" (Never forget)