Tout c'est parfait

I spent the first night in the apartment last night.  It was wonderful.

I'm sure that you are all dying for pictures so here is a link to my photoalbum with them. All you have to do is copy and paste the link and it should allow you to see the 22 pictures I took of my new amazing apartment.  

http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=298946&id=650370399&l=0a9cfedd58

Today was a day that I could just lay low.  I got up pretty late, around 12:30.  I was up late last night working on this project with my insane tyrant for a partner.  I understand why he was so anxious to get this done, but honestly in the words of my brother, he just needed to take a knee, drink some water, and calm the f*** down.  I know that SciencesPo is the best Political Science school in Europe, and that 61% of all Prime Ministers of France came from this school, but really?  I am an exchange student struggling to understand this new country and he gets on my case about not having done my stuff four days before the project is due?  

Anyway, after my shower, Aliya and I walked around and tried to get some lunch.  We ended up eating at this perfectly stereotypical french bar/restaurant.  It was old and quaint and they made the best fried chicken I have ever tasted.  And I couldn't even finish the mashed potatoes.  I guess I've become accustomed to French portions.  

After that, we headed over to Monoprix, a major grocery store chain, where we got all of the foods that we were going to share.  You know, we got the essentials like the 1 kilo jar of Nutella, eggs, pain au chocolat.  The basics.

Then we kind of just headed back to the apartment.  I was able to fully unpack everything and really get moved in.  I set up my desk so I feel like I have a little office.  It is probably the greatest feeling ever.  I finally have my OWN space.  I am not a guest in anyone's house, I don't have to worry about bothering my host family.  I am in my own place.  And the way it is set up, Aliya's room is at the far end of the apartment so she isn't bothered by my music and vice-versa.  

For dinner tonight, we were  going to go over to Picard, a store that sells only frozen food, and get some stuff to cook here.  But we stumbled across a bakery who was selling a sandwich, a drink and a dessert for 5 euros.  And OH MY GOD.  The sandwhich, just plain ham and cheese with butter was amazing.  This country doesn't really like adding butter, so it was great tasting it.  And then the dessert...  I got a strawberry tart with whipped cream.  It was the best thing I've tasted since being in this country.  It was JUST like strawberry shortcake.  

But by far the best part of dinner was where we ate it.  We ate on our terrace.  The land lords left a table with two chairs out there so we could use it whenever we wanted too.  We ate, watching the people walk five stories below while the sun was setting.  It was a scene right out of a movie.  

I think I'm in love... 

L'apatement

So i moved into the apartment today.  I knew that it was going to be a long day, but I didn't quite know how long...

We (Aliya and I) were supposed to meet César, the real-estate agent at 10:30AM to go over the inventory and to sign some more papers.  Perfect!  Except for the fact that last night I was supposed to have finished my part of this presentation and sent it to my partner. Little did I know my partner was a grinding tool.  He messages me today saying that if he didn't get my part of the presentation by midnight then he would go tell the prof that he was doing the presentation by himself.  Now, in fairness he has done a fair bit more than I have.  But in my defense, 1. I barely speak French 2. I was moving apartments and 3. the presentation isn't due until Monday.

Anyway, so I had that to stress about.  I was up pretty late doing some reading for that presentation.  So naturally, sleepy A.J. this morning hit snooze until 9:45.  I was out the door by 10:07, but since my second host family was on the exact opposite side of paris from where I was moving, it was going to take me longer to get here than I had.  Thankfully, Aliya was there and met the real estate agent.

And oh my god.  What an apartment.  Like really, I can't describe it.  I am going to try do to do a virtual tour of it.  But the area is amazing, a five minute walk from the metro, two minutes from three grocery stores, not to mention an amazing tapas restaurant thats super cheap.  Tomorrow, since I have decided to not do any school work, I am going out exploring!  And then it's off to a friend's birthday party.  But just being here, in my own space has made this country that much more amazing.

I think the weather helped too.  For the last three days it has felt like those perfect summer days when the nights were as warm as the days.  I hope this keeps up a little while longer.  I love the sun and didn't realize how much I missed it!

Although sweater weather does look pretty good on me!

Ma coupe

Ok, so I normally get a hair cut once a month.  Once every five weeks max.  Except here.  The last time I got a haircut was the beginning of August.  I am a balding gentleman (yes, I know, a huge shock there) so I take a lot of pride in what little hair I have left.  But I feel like I should show you what I looked like.

Yeah, that look on my face pretty much describes it.  This is the look of a crazed, stressed kid who left the United States about five weeks ago.

But today, all that changed.  I got a hair cut.  And with this hair cut, comes a new me.  I am moving into my apartment on Friday, I have given two presentations in French and I only have three more to go.  I have plans for something incredible about every two weeks until I leave for Christmas break.  I am eating a fresh baguette from a real french Bakery.  My 8AM class tomorrow is canceled.  Life, dare I say it, is pretty good!

J'ai réussi

So I think I have reached the point in my school work where I can't write this blog every day.  I have to say though, I am really proud that I have been as diligent as I have.  I know that future A.J. is going to be happy about that.  But let me catch up on what's been happening.

So I am at my new homestay.  As I said, it feels a lot more like a boarding house than a homestay.  I can't complain though, mainly because I'm only here for a week.  I have to say, I still don't understand how I got so lucky to stay with Michele.  Her homestay was amazing, her location was great and there was always something to do in her area.  I have yet to go exploring here, but the area seems pretty dead.  There isn't very much activity, except for the church bells that ring and can definitely wake me up (the house is located about thirty feet from this church).

There are four other students here.  Three are from the University of Washington and one is from Russia.  All are girls.  They all seem very nice.  Andrea, the most outgoing of the UW girls is the one I have gotten to know the best.  I'm not sure why, but I've run into a lot of people associated with Seattle.  Trish, Michele's old friend who visited her, lives there.  Aliya, my future roommate is from Vancouver, super close to Seattle.  And now these girls.  It is really weird.  Not in a bad way though.

I had my presentation this morning.  That seems like ages ago.  Normally on Mondays I can take a nap.  But since I have another presentation Wednesday and then again on Monday, I didn't get a chance to nap.  I spent this afternoon in the library (I also may or may not have gone for the wifi...).  But thinking back to this morning, it does seem like an eternity ago.  My mexican food lunch with Kellyn (a UCSB girl doing UC Paris, who also has the voice of an angel - she sang in VoMo) seems like forever ago too.

I was talking to my dad today, and I told him that I feel like I've lived a whole life in my time in Paris.  Even now, if I were to return to the US, I would be a better, stronger person.  I also feel that France likes to play mind games with me.  For a few days, it will be incredibly nice to me.  I'll have those days where I am care free and can wander around the city, maybe take a nap in a park, maybe go see the Mona Lisa just because I can.  Then there are those days where all I want to do is have someone take all of this from me.

But this last Saturday night was one of the nights that reminded me why Paris is such an incredible city.  It was called La Nuit Blanche, and basically was a HUGE performance art show throughout the center of the city.  Exhibitions included a guy reading the dictionary, a 1940's themed life size diorama  where, depending on a coin flip anyone could enter and flirt with the characters (heads meant you had to flirt with men, tails was women, and no, your sex didn't matter).  By far the best one though was the free pastries on Ile Saint Louis.  It was the best bread I have ever tasted in my life.

And the best part about it is that I was out with my friends.  I was with some people from my orientation group, plus people they knew.  Allison, an Australian girl from my orientation group invited along two of her friends who lived outside of Versailles.  It was really fun talking in French to them.  I have gotten to the point where I can have full conversations in French with normal people and not feel lost.  If we are talking about something particular, like in a class I still have a lot of trouble though.

And that brings be back to my presentation.  In order to stop myself from freaking out, I went about trying to find a French tutor.  I basically wanted someone who could tell me if what I wrote made sense, if someone who was French would say that.  So for this presentation, I wrote it all up and e-mailed it to her.  The next morning, I got her corrections.  And to my surprise she didn't really change all that much.  So in class, I basically read what she and I had worked on.  My professor seemed to be okay with what I had said.  But what I was really worried about was the questions the students were going to ask me.

I wasn't sure if I was going to be able to understand them, and even if I did, I wasn't sure if I could answer their questions.  Luckily I was presenting on the legal procedure in the Common Law system.  Since that is what we use in the US, and having listened to my dad describe (sometimes asked for, other times not so much) the legal procedures, I had a decent idea of what things like "discovery" and "precedents" were.  So, again, to my astonishment, I was able to answer their questions somewhat satisfactorily.

I don't really care what grade I get on that presentation.  It was the only first french presentation I will ever give here, so just having it done is a huge check on my list.  Now I need to get through these next two and then I'll be sitting pretty.  I have a paper due on October 28 and another presentation on the 14th,  but those are in English.  Turns out this country isn't as unconquerable as I thought.

Oh, and I can now officially watch a new movie in French and understand it, sans subtitles.

La semaine prochaine

I apologize for not writing yesterday.  It was a big day.  I moved to my new host family.  I woke up around 9:45, showered and packed up the very last bits of stuff in my room at Michele's house.  I was ready to go around 10:15, so she called me a taxi.  After about a fifteen minute taxi ride, I was at my new host family's house.

In Paris, it is very rare to find a house.  In the actual city center, there are pretty much only apartment buildings.  From what I can tell it is due to the insane property prices in Paris.  But my host family's place is an actual house.  I arrived there around 10:45 yesterday morning.  I sent them an e-mail thursday night saying that I would be arriving, and they replied saying they were happy to have me and that I could move in around 5PM.  Great... What was I going to do with all of my bags for the nine hours between when I leave Michele's house and am allowed to move into my new place.  I e-mailed them back asking if I could just drop off my bags and then go leave for the day.  They said that was fine.

When I showed up at the house, a very nice gentleman opened up the gate and helped me get my bags into the house.  I thought he was my host father, but turns out he is his brother.  My host family is spending the weekend in the countryside so they had him come and make sure the new students arriving yesterday were met by someone.

He showed me into my room, which is on the first floor.  It is the first door on the right when you enter the house.  It overlooks the small outer courtyard and the street.  The room itself isn't anything special, a twin bed, a desk and a shelving unit.  But the cool thing about it is that I get my own bathroom.  The bathroom is about the same size as the room.  It is complete with a closet, shower, sink and toilet.

Overall the place is quite nice.  It is four stories, one is the basement.  There are four other bedrooms for students plus the host's room (I assume), which is on the top story and has a loft.  I haven't met any of the other students because I headed out to the library yesterday before they got there.  I heard some this morning but I had just woken up.

It doesn't feel like a homestay though.  It feels like a boarding house.  I have to say if this was the first place I went to, I think my homesickness would have kicked in a lot earlier.  Michele was amazing.  That was a genuinely homestay with a Parisian family.  I met her members of her family, her friends and she seemed to take a genuine interest in me and my time with her.

Also, she had wireless.  This place does, but my...I guess you could call him my host uncle... didn't know how to do it so I was internet less while at their house.  I went to the library yesterday but I left around three after I finished my homework.  I had to work on my presentation for my class tomorrow morning.  I had to get it done so I could send it off to my tutor so she could correct my grammar for me.

I don't know how this week is going to go.  I still am homesick, I usually can only eat about one and a half meals a day, and I feel so guilty that right now I just want to come back home.  At the library yesterday, I was talking to a good friend who I really respect a lot.  She just spent the last year in Thailand teaching English and she had spent a quarter(?) in Paris her Junior year at UCSB.  She told me she knew exactly how I felt.  I also told her that I was really looking forward to coming home at Christmas and I only had seventy-something days left here before I could be safe at home.

She told me something very interesting.  She said that countdowns don't help.  At first I didn't believe her, but then she explained.  She said that the best way to combat homesickness isn't to try to get rid of it, but to not think about it.  And countdowns do the exact opposite.  They bring it to the forefront of your mind.  She also told me that no matter what, time doesn't move any faster than one second at after the next.

I think this post is long enough, so I am going to go for now.

P.S. I just had to share this really quick.  I was on FB chat and I was talking to my friend Amara on facebook chat.  I told her I didn't have internet but this was the exact sentence I said "My homestay doesn't have wireless, so I'm at McDonalds."  I probably should have told her that McDonalds does.

Mon dernier nuit

I am writing this after having packed up my room here at my first home stay.  I am going to me second home stay family tomorrow.  I had dinner with Georgiana tonight.  I was feeling really down, and wasn't planning on having dinner because my stomach wasn't up for it, but after I lied and said I was going out, she insisted we eat together.  I couldn't have been happier to be eating with someone else here.

It was a really simple dinner.  She made couscous for me (she and Lucas shared mashed potatoes) and we split some hotdogs.  It was really nice, but as usual the conversation made it even better.  We talked about how we felt being foreigners in France.  We talked about missing our families and what we do to get over it.  I absolutely love Michele, my host mother, but she is just that.  A mother.  Georgina is a lot closer to my age and is in much more similar circumstances.

After dinner, I thanked her profusely, did the dishes and headed into my room.  I am leaving tomorrow morning around 10AM, so I wanted to pack up before.  I'm not sure how, like literally it defies the laws of physics, but the same amount of clothing I brought with me here fits into only two of my three suitcases.  Throughout packing, I have been listening to songs on my computer mainly iTunes but every once in a while I've been listening to youtube.

I've found that there is a vicious cycle in my musical tastes.  I have a playlist of songs that fit my mood completely, but they perpetuate that mood. So it is hard to stop feeling homesick when listening to these songs, yet there are no other songs that would please my ears.  For me, music is where I can escape.  I have an addictive personality.  If I like a food, I can eat it every day for days on end (just ask my mom how many jamon and cheese sandwiches she made me when I was young).  Same goes for a song.  If it something I like, I need to listen to it as many times as possible.

After dinner tonight was the first time in a week I could listen to something other than the songs I have all week.  I feel better now than I have in a long time.  I think talking with Georgiana made me realize what I had to look forward to.  On October 14, I am flying to Scotland with a good friend from UCSB to visit another good friend who was on exchange there last year.  On October 27, Anni is coming to Paris from England to see Michael Bublé in concert.  On November 24, Nick is coming to Paris and we are going to go somewhere awesome.  And on December 18, I fly back to the US.

I really don't have that much to worry about.  Everything works out in the end.  And everything happens.  Some argue for a reason.  All I know is everything happens.  If there is a reason for it, it is always and only visible in hind-sight.

For now, I am feeling optimistic and am looking forward to what is going to happen in these next few weeks.

L'avenir

I drove up into the SB mountains.  It is a warm summer night and I am surrounded by three or four of my closest friends.  We are sitting at a look out spot along the road.  I look out and on this clear night I can see from Montecito to Goleta, the oil rigs looking light sailboats shining on the ocean.  The air is no colder than 75 degrees with a gentle breeze rising from the valley before us.  We start talking about everything that we've done in the last four years and all I can think about is my experiences last year in Paris.  How much my life changed in that time abroad.

Every time I close my eyes, I go to that place.  It is next summer, I am with my friends.  I am back in Santa Barbara with France behind me.  I did it.  I conquered  this seemingly unconquerable year.  I survived and I am back where I know.  As for now, my reality is very much different than my idealized future.  As I sit here writing this, I am still at chez Michele.  I can hear cars go up rue Lacède every few minutes.  I know that if I was hungry I could go outside and get a homemade crepe and eat it on my bed.

And I know that in three days I will be in a different part of this city living with a different host family.  The de Fleurieu's are taking me in for the next week.  Assuming everything goes well with the wire transfers and we can move into our apartment, I'll be in on a week from this Saturday.  And my life will change yet again.

It seems that during my time abroad, the only constant thing is change.  I know, I know, its corny and cliché, but clichés exist for a reason.  I have been in France for a month and a day and in that time my world has been turned upside down.  In that time I have gotten to know a French family, made friends with kids from Europe, the South Pacific, Asia, North America and South America. I have given a presentaion on France's Military Footprint in Africa to a policy advisor for the French Ministry of Defense.  I have traveled to a foreign country by myself where I stayed with a friend from high school.  I have made plans to go to Scotland with a friend to visit another friend (both from UCSB), bought concert tickets to see Michael Bublé here in Paris and made plans to have my brother come over and visit me for thanksgiving.  I have become an english tutor for two preteens and a gentleman in this thirties.  I went from barely understanding spoken French to being able to watch movies in French sans subtitles.

My life has changed so much and I have only been here for four and a half weeks.  With seventy five days left until I return to the United States I can only imagine what will happen.  I know that I have to give five more presentations in French between now and then.  I know I have to write a twenty page memoir in French comparing two law systems and defend it in front of a jury of three people.  And above all I know that I will survive this.  That is the one thing that helps me.

I'm not quite sure why, but this week has been super difficult for me.  I haven't been able to make it one day without an anxiety attack.  Not a major one mind you, but a good freak out.  And talking with my family has helped.  Thank god for skype.  But the one thing that I helps me at this point is the fact that with every breath I take, I am that much closer to being with them again.  Every second that passes is a second I survived here.  And I am looking forward to the day when my favorite part of it isn't crossing another x off my calendar.

But as for now, the visions of next summer, of traveling with Nana, of my Dad and JoAnn coming over in Spring, of Nick coming over in November and of Mom coming in May are what get me through this.