Paris!

Looking back on the past 5 weeks I spent in Paris, I can't believe I did and saw as much as I did. It was definitely an experience I will never forget, from traveling abroad for the first time, not being able to speak French, except the Bonjour and merci, to all the museums and the wonderful experiences I had with everyone on the trip. I think we all went on this trip for different reasons, I know we were all interested in the art of course and Paris, but everyone had their own experiences that they wanted to get out of going to Paris. Some aspects were more important to some people like with the fashion and the food. I appreciated both these things, especially the fashion part (jewelry!), but for me this trip was one that I had been waiting to take for a while. We all have different experiences growing up, live in different places and coming to college is one of the few places where you meet so many different types of people, coming from different backgrounds. College to me is one of those experiences that I found myself in need of, I see it more than an education to lead to a job, there are so many other aspects to school that inform you of the world around you. The education aspect led me to consider study abroad, I wanted to go abroad, but wasn't sure if I wanted to be taking a class. Now that I've had this experience, I'm very grateful and humbled. France is just another country in the world and there are people there just like here in the U.S, but there are differences in the culture, but at the same time, I continually found myself making connections. I found myself the last day I was leaving stuck with no transportation to the airport. The previous day I booked a shuttle to come to my apartment to pick me up, I was waiting outside 30 minutes before my pick up time, I soon found myself waiting an hour. I tried calling, but got no where and knew I needed to think fast to get to the airport on time. Taxi! I thought, but realized I had no number, living underneath a costume workshop, and other businesses, I knew I would see someone, so I waited. A man came up to me speaking French, switched to English once he saw the confused look on my face and asked if I was the person he was meeting, no I replied, but asked him if he had a number for a taxi. One thing I learned from Paris was it isn't easy to get a taxi and of course the man told me this was the worst time to be trying to get one. I was a bit in a panic and maybe this man knew it, so he waited with me as he called taxi company after taxi company. Soon one of the women who works in the costume workshop below arrived and was conversing with the man, soon she was calling taxis, both trying to get me one. The man had to leave, but the woman finally made a reservation and told me everything I needed to know. She was going to wait up stairs and watch me to see if there was any issues and she was there to help. I'm back in the U.S now, so I obviously got home safe and sound, I don't know how everyone else feels about the interactions with the French, but I was told several times before the trip, they were rude. Looking at my last experience, it was not the best situation to be put in, but these two strangers gave me some of their time to help. For me this trip was wonderful in that I did get to see everything I wanted to see and go to every place I wanted to go and try the food I wanted to and saw the jewelry I was dying to see, but it was the interactions of the actual French people that I find myself reflecting on most. Many times through out the trip I was nervous to start a conversation, because I would have to ask if they spoke English. Yet every time there wasn't the greatest interaction another, better one followed. I will definitely be traveling abroad in the future and I will be taking the knowledge I received from this experience to my new adventures. Bon Voyage!

En tissu?

When I was washing the last little load of clothes in our stairwell, the beautiful, cool wind slammed my door to my apartment shut. Locked out, I wandered downstairs to the Atelier until I found someone sewing, dyeing, fitting or cutting out costumes. The ladies recognized me, and my Bonjour! and the young man with long wiggly hair was able to come over and see what I needed. I explained in English that my door shut on me. He ran downstairs to find the owner, and I heard "Claudine..." as he and the ladies struggled to figure out how to describe which apartment I was in (as there were two apartments at that top level.) He soon returned, saying, "Ten minoots!" and showed me his ten fingers. OK so I knew I had a while to wait. I was in my purple sleeping t-shirt (no bra!) and my pink-flowers-on-yellow sleeping shorts (very short for France especially!) Such styling! Sure enough, about 20 minutes later, Claudine herself came up, recognized me, and we laughed. She opened the door. I shared how embarrassing it was to be in my sleeping clothes by curtsying while holding the edge of my shorts out like a skirt. She laughed, and wondered if she should get me "en tissu." She understood that I was embarrassed. It was a sweet thing that she could come so soon, would recognize me, and be willing to tease. It turns out 'tissu' means a piece of cloth (not a tissue!)
  The next day I brought down items from the refrigerator that wouldn't make it without care: potatoes, cabbage, carrots and vegetables. She explained that her Spanish was actually much better than her English, and I told her my Spanish was better than my French, so go ahead! She accepted the vegetables, and struggled to explain to me about her tomorrow's retrospective show of her life's work as a costumer to take place in another location. I apologized, explaining that I couldn't go because I had to run to the Airport the next day. I was sad to miss it.

Final Cultual Post

Getting your tonsils out the day after you return from France really lends to a lot of reflecting time on the trip and life in general. Naturally, when I'm not lusting over solid food or just food in general, I can't help but to compare this trip to my trip to Spain last year. These two trips have been the best summers of my life, and I would do anything to relive them both. Spain was a wonderfully warm place filled with what might be considered too much partying. I met people that changed me, but in all honesty I never stayed in close contact with them. It taught me how to live alone in a foreign country where I didn't have my parents or a high school chaperone watching my every move. I think all in all I learned more about functioning and taking care of myself when I was in Spain, especially having to go to a mac store and buy and entirely new computer. I was a 19 year old on a trip with people who were well over 21 and nothing has ever forced me to become mature like that trip did. Paris on the other hand was a completely different, somewhat chillier experience. Frances you told me you had never seen me so happy before, and maybe thats because these last 5 weeks have honestly been one of the best experiences of my life. Going on this trip felt like I was just going somewhere with my friends, not at all like we were strangers. I can't even begin to list the wonderful memories that we created over the past few weeks, from conch shells to catacombs from dynamo to Giverny from bars to fitting 4 people in my full size bed I can't think of 11 other people that I would have liked to spend this time with ( and yes Frances that includes you!). Even the bad times like wandering for hours trying to find a place to eat, or not being allowed into clubs didn't really matter because I knew wherever we ended up it would be a good time. That was always guaranteed. I can't put my finger on exactly what about this trip changed me so much, but I know that I am a different person than the one who stepped off United flight 990 on May 29th. It could possibly be that I met 10 people who I never want to loose contact with; 10 people who in such a short amount of time I felt like I could 100% be myself around and never feel judged or misliked. Today and everyday since we left I miss Paris so much. I even might miss being sardined on the metro. I miss every single one of you and the times that we had together. While I don't know how I changed I know that I am a better person because I went on this trip and because I met all of you. I'm so glad you told me to come again this year Francis, thank you for everything.

Cultural Post #4

After taking French for 3 years in high school and 1 year at CU I was overwhelmed with the lack of retainment I had. The worst part of it is, the more confidently you respond to a question the more natural the speaker is with their answer; then I would have to admit that I could not in fact speak French that well. Yet for some strange reason, every time Chantel and I would go to our favorite Chinese food place, my French was suddenly perfect and I understood perfectly what they were saying and how I should respond. From ordering certain foods, to telling them to heat the food up, telling them that I wanted our food to-go and even understood the price of things. My confidence never lasted though, the second we walked into a different restaurant I couldn't even begin to speak French. All other places Chantel and I would awkwardly stare at each other, hoping the other would have the confidence to start talking first. After about 2 weeks in Paris though I decided it was time to bite the bullet and start trying at least. At first its really embarrassing when you try to speak French and people simply reply in English, or just begin speaking in English before you even have the chance to say a word in French. Like the fear of speaking French in general I eventually got over my embarrassment. When people spoke to me in English I just swallowed my shame and responded in French. I don't know if people were more annoyed by this or not, but I figured that any try was better than nothing. The best feeling though was being able to hold on conversations with people, and I came to realize the more I tried the more I remembered from my years of French. When I could go into bakeries and order things without any English at all I felt like a champion of the French language. More than showing me that language really is a use it or loose it skill, this trip showed me that if you fail miserably at first if you continue trying (without shame sometimes) you'll become better at something. Sometimes people want to help you, other times they stare at you like you're a babbling idiot and can't understand a word you're saying, maybe they'll look at you like you're the most annoying american to walk the face of the Earth, but eventually it will get easier and all the work will be worth it.

Just like Lea, my first moments in Amsterdam have been confused stumblings of French in a non-French speaking country. Good job Rob, let's just heighten the tourist factor. (Although, speaking French to beggars and solicitors definitely helps keep them away. "Pas De Fleurs!")

Yet, for all of Amsterdam's not-so-cheap thrills, I really miss Paris. It is much more real, a place where you can feel the culture all around you. This was probably a site of our group's disconnect, that fact that we weren't part of that culture, yet I can assure you, we appreciated it and longed for it.

The things I learned in Paris were this; how to travel, how to be uncomfortable, and how to appreciate another culture. In regards to travelling, it is about packing light, and never going home. Although I took a few personal days, and several naps, I was proud of our group for how proactive we were about experiencing. Traveling can be very uncomfortable, but that is the charm of it. You need to adapt, and just jump right in to your surroundings. With the first two steps, the culmination is appreciating the culture. Here, I learned a lot about how people operate, foreign and not foreign. Human nature still acts as the same and it was fun to apply to different cultures. There were the nice people and the more abrasive folks. Despite personality differences, I was able to keep from overreacting to the harsher people and begin to pick out why they weren't having the best of days.

Overall, I have broadened my scope of the world. I have a lot more to learn, so much that I will probably never grasp it all, but this was probably the best way to dip my toes in to the water of travelling. Thanks to Frances and the group for such a wonderful experience!

My last week in Paris was infinitely influenced by Luke's friend, Siham. Nearly everyone in the group got to meet and know Siham, but, to me, she was the physical example of Paris culture. A smart gal, beautiful and stylish, with a lot to say and a patient pleasant attitude. To cap it all off, she was horribly addicted to cigarettes. This last week alone, my french improved dramatically. I graduated from baby french, to the toddler level.

At the same time though, it made me want to kick my self for having never broken out and found a french local to talk to. Siham did calm my nerves and explained that that would be quite an incredible feat to do without knowing a person on the inside. Regardless, the importance of a local ally, rather than just forcing awkward interactions in shops, made me realize the proper way to travel.

Since being in amsterdam, I befriended two French Canadian girls. Although their French sounds like a different language, and they would laugh at how bad my French, similarly, I learned more french with them than I could have hoped for. It is going to be tough, but I hope to learn french  when I get back to the States. I think after such an inspiring adventure, I will have the wherewithal to keep my French alive.

au revoir

I feel like going back home from a foreign country you've spent some time in is as much of a culture shock as going to that forge in country. Within the first couple minutes, even, of getting off the plane onto US soil I had to stop myself from saying "pardon" or "merci"...good thing pardon is very similar to our english word that means pretty much the same thing since it still slips out. The last couple of days that we were in Paris were a weird limbo. They seemed to only function as time to get ready to leave instead of time that I was actually still in Paris. But now that I have time to reflect I miss it more than I thought I would. I miss the culture that's deep in the city and that has been there for hundreds of years. I miss the sophistication of everyone you pass, the poise and confidence. I miss the walking and opportunities of not only being in a large city but a large city that has fulfilled so many local dreams but foreign ones too. Although I know the topic of this post is cliche but it is all I have been thinking about since I've been back. You know it has been a great experience and trip when you come back home and you still feel inspired by the one you left.

It Is The End.

It is the end. The total end of my stay in France. My adventure has been everything I expected and more. Although I am not an Art History or Art student, I have been inspired in so many ways as a dancer. All art is connected in one way or another. As a graduate in August, this experience has been a huge supplement to my education. Learning more about visual art has lead me to explore other career paths. Art is what runs our society. It is the beginning and the future, a continuum. Our group alone taught me a lot. I was surrounded by people everyday who were all so different but love the same thing. This art history program was amazing. Frances taught all of us so much and never ceased to inspire all of us to take advantage of this once in a lifetime experience. I will remember all I learned, from Neo-Classicism to Pop Art in this interactive program. I urged anyone to go on this program because it was a valuable experience, educationally and culturally. So long Paris, I hope I will be reunited with you again!

Shopping in Montmarte

For Paris being the fashion capitol of the world, I had some trouble finding clothing stores that I wouldn't be able to find in the US. The Champs-Elysées had stores that 29th Street Mall had. However, one afternoon I went exploring in Montmarte. The small boutiques there were just what I was looking for! This one store, Chatwalk, had really cute clothes. The women working there was very helpful. I told her that I was studying here and that I wanted her to speak to me in french. She was delighted and when I couldn't remember certain vocab words or just didn't know a word, she would humbly help me out. It was refreshing buying strictly unique Parisian clothes and having my entire shopping experience be in french. The clothes fit great and the colors were très chic. Now I know why Paris is the fashion capitol of the world.

Big City Problems

Living in a large city after a while you begin to forget exactly how many people actually live in the city along side you. There were a couple instances that I began to realize just how big Paris actually is. The revolution came in two experiences where two women fell ill in public. The first time was when the group and I were walking to a cafe at night in Republique and there was a well-dressed woman lying on her back on the street corner. She seemed to be unconscious but had a significant number of people circled around her on their phones and a couple people bent over her. After a couple minutes she began to cough and come to. Not speaking French and not wanting to add to the large group of people we decided letting the people who were already helping her, do their thing we walked away as she began to sit up. The other time something like this happened was when I was on the Metro to Accent when a woman, looking very hot and flustered asked a man if she could have his seat. He got up and she sad down and fanned herself and drank some water. In a couple minutes she went limp and twitched a little. Two women standing next to her held her head up and stroked her hair waiting for the episode to pass. When the woman recovered slightly someone gave the helpers a packet of sugar in which they put in the remainder of her water. I had to get off but I was so moved by help and support these strangers gave this lady in her time of need. These two experiences made me realize how large the city was. I have never really seen a stranger lying on the street, or pass out before. This made me realize that this was bound to happen and be seen in Paris solely because there were way more people for this to happen to than Boulder or Santa Barbara. But regardless of the increase in numbers of strangers in a large city I walked off the metro feeling warm and comforted knowing how kind these Parisians are.

Republique

 For the past week I have been going back to skate Republique as much as possible.  Since I have been there about three or four times now a lot of the locals see me as a regular.  They great me with high fives and smiles, its awesome.  This relationship that I have become a part of really gives the plaza a sense of community amongst young skaters.  Just by looking at these kids one can see that they all care and look out for one another.  For example, while I was riding around I saw a man begin to yell at a skateboarder in a furious tone.  The argument got more and more intense as if this man was going to punch the skater.  I then saw several other skaters get up and rush over to the aid of the original skater.  They told the man to leave and he was not very compliant.  After several minutes the number of skaters grew from about three to ten.  At this point the man saw that these kids were a community that was not to be messed with.  I found this encounter to be especially meaning full to me because many of the kids may have not even known the victimized skater they just knew that he was a fellow skater that needed their help and that was enough.  I felt that even though I may have been a "stupid American tourist" I was still a skateboarder and that they would have had my back if the man had approached me.  To me this was the coolest part of the Republique and is what skateboarding is all about.    

       

A Doug Cartoon

On Wednesday after our wonderful last meal, some of us met at the Pompidou to see the opening of the Lichtenstein exhibit. It was awesome, and a great way to end the trip! Before going into the museum Luke, Leah and I were standing in the large quart yard in front of the entrance. A guy came up to Luke and said something like “you got a funny face…good for drawing”, and after an uncomfortable laugh we decided it would be a good idea to get caricatures. Luke got his “portrait” done first and he ended up looking like Fabio and Thor mixed with Woody Allen! It was pretty great. I was persuaded to go next, and so I sat in front of the little Parisian artist, trying to smile as he captured my face in a rather crude and deformed manner. I looked like a fat frat bro mixed with a chipmunk (pretty accurate, no?). As I looked at the enlarged cartoon of my face, and feeling a little queasy from the beef tartar, I realized I would forever be American, and a goofy American at that! There is no point in trying to be French. All that maters is respecting French humanity, and immersing ones in their culture to the point where a critical moment of human aptitude arises—the moment when you can make friends with a culture outside your own. I learned to always be myself, and to do everything in my power to learn from other’s personalities in order to help my own personality grow. It has been a beautiful journey, and I will forever remember the spellbinding sights of the city of lights! Thanks so much for the memories and the laughs! I have learned and grown more then I ever expected!

Gay Pride Parade

Last Saturday, Robin and me were walking around the Latin Quarter looking for some last minute gifts when we ran into the most lavish cultural splash I have seen in France. It was none other than the Gay Pride Parade! I have never seen a pride parade before, but I had an idea of what one looked like, and my presumptions turned out to be completely true. There were half naked men and woman dancing, kissing, and throwing condoms in a very fabulously gay manner. It was really fun to see how excited and happy everyone was to express sexuality openly without hesitation. The music was loud, and the outfits were even louder! I saw a guy dressed in full drag (a big wedding gown looking dress) and to top off his deva persona, he had white beard! It was absolutely ridiculous, and people loved him! I saw at least ten groups of people, young and old, come up to this guy and pose for pictures. I had such a great time watching the French let their wild side come to surface for everyone to see! We saw pretty much the entire parade, and with it a mass variety of different ways of expressing desire and sexuality. I knew I had stumbled into something boundless when the difference between the floats was weather or not you were wearing ass-less chaps, or dressing like an Amazonian princess. 

Narrative #5

Deciding to visit the Versailles palace and garden on a beautiful sunny Sunday was an easy decision. After touring through the hot, stuffy, still air of the palace bedrooms and hall of mirrors (filled with hundreds of Asian tourists), we were finally liberated with a breath of fresh air outside the palace. Although I had visited Versailles when I was 13, the garden was ten times more spectacularly beautiful and larger than I had remembered.  The view from the central fountain stretched down for miles towards the horizon line. Upon seeing the grandeur of the garden we were free to explore - Elizabeth and I ran towards the thick bush maze, which one inside, felt like we were in Alice in Wonderland. We ran through the maze until we found a turn that shot us back out into the garden.
My sandals became covered in a white powdered dust from the rocky pathways. We stumbled upon two gardens of soaring, tall skinny trees, with trunks like toothpicks and leaves that created a balcony of green covering the individuals picnicking below it. We ran through the shaded garden like over-excited fairies, feeling like we were floating through the trees.
Once we were short of breath, we left the garden and began walking more through the garden. We were once again shockingly surprised with a breathtaking scene: a small lake of couples rowing in white boats while simultaneously trying to balance dripping sorbets. Next to these boats was a large area of beautifully kept green grass, with families, young couples and babies relaxing in the grass by the water. The whole scene reminded me of Seurat's painting, "A Sunday Afternoon on the Island of La Grande Jatte" (1884).
The scene was too perfect. We lay there in unbelief and bliss at how beautiful the Versailles gardens were. We discussed leaving society and living in the garden. Throwing Gatsby-esque parties with endless champagne, pony rides, fairy dresses and endless cake. I licked my dripping chocolate vanilla soft serve ice cream wishing we could lay there forever, forgetting everything...

Wherefore art thou restroom?

I think it is not farfetched to say I have been cursed with an abnormally small bladder. It is not a good problem to have in France, where public restrooms are few and far between. Almost three times a day I find myself jumping around and looking around fervently for a bathroom. If we are in a museum, our apartment, or Accent I have somewhere to go. Otherwise I am out of luck and become extremely frustrated. Never before have I been forced to pay so much money for having a small bladder. I can guess the reason there are not many public restrooms is because of the abundance of homeless people that would surely take residence in the restrooms. It does baffle me, however, how unwilling restaurant or café or even McDonald workers are to accommodate someone who has to pee. I also blame myself for my lack of French skills in assisting my pleading. Normally they want you to buy something if you are going to use their restroom, but sometimes I really cant wait long enough to stand in line and buy a coke before I need to rush into the bathroom. Even when I really am going to eat at a café and I go to the bathroom first to use the restroom and wash my hands the people inside say “Bonjour Madamoiselle?” to me like “Where the hell do you think you’re going” when they don’t know I am seated outside. I find it very frustrating. I understand this is a part of the culture and a custom I am not used to, but I also cant really figure it out since it is something every person does involuntarily every day weather they want to or not.