La Dolce Vita

     Italy is beautiful. Like jaw-droppingly, let's-never-go-back-home kind of beautiful. Hardly anything beats the kind of happy you feel waking up in Italy with a foamy cappuccino and the sound of birds chirping outside. Just thinking about it brightens up the drizzly, gloomy weather we've been having in Minneapolis this week.

     My first visit to Italy was in May 2011 when I studied abroad with one of my best friends, Amanda, and thirteen others on Augsburg's "Art and Spiritual Practice in Italy" trip for eighteen days, where we learned plein air sketching and about the lives of St. Francis and St. Clare. In Siena, we sunbathed in the Piazza del Campo and enjoyed getting lost in the medieval architecture. We then took on the Apennines mountain range, trekking for three days through the Parco Nazionale delle Foreste Casentinesi on a pilgrimage following St. Francis' steps to his retreat at La Verna, atop Monte Penna. None of us believed our professors when they told us we should train for it, so it turned into a brutal three days, particularly when we had to wear garbage bags during the downpour and thunder on our second full day. This was a full-on shower-like rain, so when we stopped to eat our soaked prosciutto sandwiches, we were so miserable that no one spoke. I think half of us just threw our sandwiches in the trees. Despite being the most physically challenging thing I've ever done, I now have a real love for hiking and would love to go back and do it all over again. We then traveled to Assisi, a small village on Monte Subasio in Umbria, which had beautiful churches and scenery and finished up in awe of the splendor of Rome. 

     I can't wait to see more of Italy someday, like Sicily, Lake Como and the Cinque Terre and revisit the small towns of Tuscany and Umbria, because not much beats the sunshine, wine and pasta of Italy.

Rachel

Hotel Alma Domus, Siena

View from Hotel Alma Domus balcony, Siena

Casa di Santa Caterina, Siena

Piazza del Campo

In the Contrada dell'Oca (Goose) neighborhood, Siena

Lost on the eastern side of Siena

Bird taking a sip from the Fonte Gaia, Siena

About 15 minutes into our 3-day hike through the Apennines

Badia Prataglia, Emilia-Romagna

Proudly wearing my garbage bag in the downpour of day 2

Leaving Badia Prataglia

Resident cat of Casa Santicchio in Chiusi della Verna

Approaching Rimbocchi, beginning of day 3 

"Mortimer", a stray dog who hiked 8 hours with us

Santuario della Verna atop Monte Penna

Art students restoring paintings in the monastery, La Verna

Sketching on the Precipizio, La Verna

In love with a stray cat in Assisi

La Rocca Maggiore castle, Assisi

Assisi

Going to dinner in Assisi

Learning yoga in an olive grove, Assisi

Piazza del Commune, Assisi

Flowers at the Eremo delle Carceri, St. Francis' nature monastery retreat

Assisi

Assisi

The rooftop terrace view from our hotel, Albergo Ancajani, Assisi

The best tiramisu gelato I've ever had, Assisi

Assisi

Assisi

Kara and I waiting 7 hours for a strike-delayed train, Assisi

Colosseum, Rome

Spaghetti and meatballs at Ristorante La Canonica, Trastevere, Rome

View from Il Gianicolo

Trastevere, Rome

Sketching at Ristorante La Canonica, Trastevere, Rome

Trastevere, Rome

Trastevere, Rome

The Pantheon, Rome

Piazza di Pietra, Rome

La Bocca della Verità, Rome

Piazza Navona, Rome

Brittany, Amanda and I with gelato from Tre Scalini in the Piazza Navona, Rome

The Roman Forum, Rome

Last night in Rome

The City of Lakes

 "You get a strange feeling when you’re about to leave a place, like you’ll not only miss the people you love, but you’ll miss the person you are now at this time and this place, because you’ll never be this way ever again." -Azar Nafisi
 
     Joyeux Poisson d'Avril !  I feel like the joke's on me when I really look at what date it is, which I usually avoid as much as possible. How can it already be April? I've never felt a year go by so fast. Sometimes I even catch myself saying to people that I just got back to the U.S.
     I also can't believe that my time at Augsburg is almost up. I've spent the last few days running errands downtown and it made me a little melancholy that I won't be living in Minneapolis for at least the next few years. I read the above quote by Azar Nafisi around the time I was leaving Paris in June and reading it now, just a few weeks before leaving Augsburg, it makes a lot of sense again. I'm a pretty sentimental person when it comes to places (and especially people), so I'm sure leaving Minneapolis for the next foreseeable few years will be rough, especially considering I've called this city "home" for the last four. The video below, "Why We're Here" from Seven and Sixty Productions, really gets me going, too. I'm proud of our little hidden gem community that we have, despite our godawful winters that I will never get used to (I say it's because I was born in Texas). I'll be thinking about our friendly Minnesotan smiles at places like the grocery store when I'm standing in line at Franprix and customers are getting increasingly pissed when I don't have exact change or, God forbid, I have to use une carte.

Late March downtown sights

     Lately I've also been watching a lot of creative Paris videos, which makes me more excited about this fall. My aunt sent me the above video, "A Day in Paris" by Darren Fisher and I found this other one on Vimeo by House of Nod. Both of them remind me so much of my life there last spring that I might as well make an appearance. But I suppose anyone who has spent any time in Paris would feel like that, too. And I never thought I'd be missing the métro quite like I do!

Rachel

Freedom at 21

       The old sayings “dream big” and “shoot for the stars” never had much meaning to me in my early years. In elementary school, my teachers usually had well-stocked classrooms of generic posters preaching virtues like “integrity,” “perseverance” and usually a few dedicated to dreams. Does anyone in fourth grade really have a clue what they want for their future? For example, my nine-year-old self's profession of choice was to be the next Britney Spears (For a Thanksgiving project that year, I first wrote that I was thankful for her, and then for my family.). As a victim of Youngest Child Syndrome (Which I just Googled and is very real), I strove to do everything my sister did- be in Gifted and Talented (I wasn’t chosen), have a super-high ACT score (My score was significantly lower), be in National Honor Society (What was the point of that, anyway?). Name something she did, and I tried my best to do it, too, often with lower results. 

     I really didn't dream much past what Emily had done for herself, so I never quite had any “big dreams” of my own, other than to finish college and then fall off the cliff of Life After College. That sounded about right, considering I had been probably the shyest kindergartner in my class and had cried in fear the first day when my sister wasn't on the bus to go home at noon (“Second graders go to school for the whole day,” My teacher told me.). I even won the prestigious award of “Most Cautious Player” on my fifth grade basketball team, Sharpied onto a basketball and really just code for “the player who is most afraid of upsetting other players.” Lacking any real talent, I still continued until eighth grade. I think I played for so many years because I was tall, liked to run back and forth on the court and, of course, because Emily had done it. Years later, when it came down to mark off a language to study my first year of high school, I put down French. Because Emily did. And that lit the fire of my Paris dreams.

Me in Kindergarten, scared for my life.

            A few weeks ago, I overslept and was in the process of emailing my professor when my phone vibrated. It was an email. I am pleased to inform you that you have been admitted to the MA in Cultural Translation at the American University of Paris for the fall 2013 semester. Congratulations! I wanted to shout it from on top of a mountain, but I didn’t have a mountain, so I called my mom instead. Everyone was extremely congratulatory and now after some time has passed, I’ve really started to think about how far I’ve come since childhood. I don’t think anyone would’ve predicted that little five-year-old Rachel would be living in Paris for five months, let alone another twelve—and voluntarily. I myself can hardly believe it because, after all, Emily didn't go to grad school—though she probably will someday and find a cure for cancer—but after the last several months, it’s to be expected that I would follow this road once again.

            When I left Paris last May, the taxi took me away from the neighborhood I’d just begun to feel comfortable in and I knew it wasn't the right way to go. I sat with my head resting against the window as my eyes dragged over shops I’d browsed through and cafés I’d wanted to try, and for which I'd never quite found the time. We passed memories like jogging and wine-picnicking in the Luxembourg Gardens, impatiently foot-tapping over the copy machines at the shop on the boulevard Saint-Michel, the vélib’ bicycle racks that had saved me from stumbling home in stilettos. My life in Paris was being reduced to the likes of a bus tour and I wanted to shake the driver’s seat and yell “But wait- stop! That’s where I found my copy of Les fleurs du mal! And that’s where I get my cheap pizza! Oh, and we really must stop for the quai!” But instead I just swallowed over the lump growing in my throat as we crossed Le Petit Pont towards Notre-Dame and over the quai where I’d spent so many nights dangling my feet over the glittering water and laughing over bottles of Côtes du Rhône. I closed my mouth and settled into my seat as Louis Armstrong began to sing “Nobody Knows the Trouble I’ve Seen” over the radio. I literally mouthed “Seriously?” to my mom in the front seat. 

            At home in Minnesota, I turned into a true Miss Havisham. I’ve spent the last several months hoarding old receipts that keep coming out of the woodwork from places like Franprix and avoiding the pictures I took because they make me too sad. I’ve been able to successfully watch Midnight in Paris once. My laptop clock is still on Paris time. I’m physically in Minneapolis, but clearly in Paris mentally. I’ve been a real mess.

            I have many fears and doubts about going back, but I can’t really come up with a good enough reason to not go back to Paris. I’ve heard so many people over the years talk about their life regrets and I know I don’t want to wake up in ten years at 32 and think, “Why the hell did I not go?” I want to make the most of this fleeting freedom that I have right now because what scares me much more than moving to a foreign country is living an ordinary life without adventure. I know this is my next chapter and I’m sure the kindergartner in me would be interested in hearing it.

Rachel

I Left My Heart in Paris, France

     

     Yesterday, I woke up in Paris. Today I woke up in Minnesota. It's a strange, strange transition. I ate three croissants at my terminal at Charles de Gaulle, and pulled the Brioche Dorée receipt out of my pocket while sitting on my bed at home. As I literally watched the Eiffel Tower and the Arc de Triomphe fade away under the clouds and Minnesota come into view looking like a Life game board, with neat, geometric streets and full of trees, and hearing loud Minnesotan accents in the customs line, I was having- and am still having- reverse culture shock. When ordering from Pizza Hut for dinner last night, I caught myself asking for a margherita pizza and wondering why we had no red wine on the table. My bedroom is a whole other story. I have a Paris et ses monuments map on the wall,  an "original" painting from the Place du Tertre and about fifty little Eiffel Towers (People's go-to gift for me) scattered around the place. After having lived there, it all seems rather silly. There are also my suitcases that I refuse to open.

I hate goodbyes.

My favorite skyline

      I've spent this morning looking up jobs, internships and graduate schools that could lead me back to Paris sooner rather than later, but I know I won't be able to return until this time next year at the earliest. It's exciting to throw around ideas and not know what career I'll have or where I'll live and it's especially exciting to imagine I could be back in France in the future. I know for a fact that I need to go back one day as a resident again, and not just as a tourist. I think four months gets to you deeper than a Paris Visite pass. Even though I already miss France, I know that it will always be there waiting for me, and above all else, I will miss the people I met there who really account for the bulk of what made this experience so special to me. This semester was absolutely the best time of my entire life and I'm grateful I was lucky and privileged enough to make my dreams come true.
     I spent the last week or so traveling through Tuscany with my mom, our two family friends and a total of eleven pieces of luggage, making stops in Siena, where I spent a bit of time last year studying abroad, and Florence, which was completely new for me. We visited the Chianti Classico winemaking region, stopping at the winery Colle Bereto and a smaller, privately-owned vineyard up in the hills. I could easily have spent a month doing it. In Siena, I got to show them some familiar places like the Duomo, the Piazza del Campo, the Pinocoteca Nazionale and the Casa di Santa Caterina and see some new things, like climbing the 400 steps to the top of the Torre del Mangia and the ancient hospital Santa Maria della Scala that was Siena's primary hospital until the 1980s. I also never get tired of the food and drinks in Tuscany, like cinghiale (wild boar), pici (thick, handmade Sienese pasta), gelato, prosecco, limoncello, grappa and tiramisù.

Under the Tuscan sun at Colle Bereto winery, Radda in Chianti

View of the striped Duomo from the Torre del Mangia

Enjoying a Peroni while admiring the Torre del Mangia like it's the Eiffel Tower in the Piazza del Campo 

      In Florence, it was nice to not have so much pressure to be the tour guide and translator and just relax and marvel at the beautiful architecture. I know we didn't see even close to everything, but it was fun to take it easy, shop, eat pizza and pasta and drink wine to our heart's content. We spent our last night- my very last night to go out in Europe- gazing at the Florentine sunset atop the Piazzale Michelangelo and eating a late dinner of to-die-for food on the Arno. I love Italy, but I was ready to come home since I knew it was inevitable and it wasn't exactly a cake walk carrying my ridiculous amount of luggage through the airports and bus stations. I still secretly hoped that somehow my plane ticket home wasn't booked properly and I would have to stay. No such luck.  

Santa Maria dei Fiore

Watching the sunset from the Piazzale Michelangelo

      I could really go for a croissant right now, so I have the catering menu for one of the only passable French bakeries in the metro area in another tab. But maybe, just maybe Ladurée or Maison Kayser ships? Fingers crossed.

Rachel

Midnight in Paris

    My last week in Paris has arrived. Thinking back to the terrified version of me who arrived at the foyer with two heavy suitcases, panting and lost, I really had no idea then how much I would love the next four months. This has been my dream for as long as I can remember and it's saddening beyond words that it's ending so soon. I'm so thankful for every street, every friend, every croissant and every perfect Parisian night I've been lucky enough to experience.

Montmartre,  5:45 am

     This weekend, we had dinner at our French friend's apartment out in one of the rich western suburbs. It was  fun having lively discussions, laughing and eating a wonderful dinner. The next night, we decided to stay up all night and watch the sunrise from Montmartre. It was not as wonderful as you'd expect, considering the 18th arrondissement is full of sketchy people at night, but it's a special memory I'll always have, watching the dark, pink sky fade to blue over all of Paris.

Versailles, the first time when we were happier!

     A few hours later, we went to Versailles for the second time this week to see the inside of the palace. It was a terrible decision. There were so many people that we couldn't move and I wasn't rested enough to be patient with people literally shoving me to get pictures of the rooms they probably knew nothing about. It's so frustrating when you care about something, have studied it for years, and hoards of people don't let you enjoy it! Stephanie and I rode the RER back home shaking our heads at each other.

I love my friends (This is Stephanie)

    I've also visited the top of Notre-Dame (my favorite view of Paris), enjoyed ice cream from Berthillon on the Ile-St-Louis (Their pineapple sorbet is to die for.) and walked all around the city, visiting beautiful centuries-old churches, like St. Etienne-du-Mont and Saint Severin.
     It's hard to wrap my head around the fact that in about two weeks I'll be using dollars instead of euros to buy Kemps ice cream instead of Amorino gelato, enjoying my coffee at Starbucks instead of a café, choosing from a limited selection of Yellow Tail wine instead of the never-ending aisle of cheap and wonderful French wines at Franprix, shopping at the Mall of America instead of the Champs-Elysées and... croissants. Oh, the croissants. I'll be pretending the grocery-store-hot- dog-bun-croissants are flaky and full of French butter (They're not.). I've been saying that at first I'll be really excited to be home and then about two days later I'll be laying in bed with my Paris sweatshirt on, crying onto a box of macarons while watching Midnight in Paris. This city really gets to you and I'm a prime example.

Rachel

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