Le Procrastinating

Oh, medieval French. You've been dead for a while now. It's time to move on. I have spent my entire Sunday afternoon attempting to translate you and write an exposé on you, and it is still not going well. Merde... I guess that means a blog post will help motivate me. Right?

Presenting: Things I Have Done and Remember Doing Thanks to Having Taken Photos of Said Events

1. Cooking dinners with friends. I've done this twice now and it never fails to be a wonderful time. We usually don't end up eating until 10 or 11pm (slow and steady), but I don't mind in the slightest - it's a nice way to hang out with people, while in a city, but without all those people everywhere. Photos from dinner I (forgot to take photos of dinner II):

Awkward self-timed photo: success (sorta).

 2. A visit to the Château de Vincennes. It was basically a class field trip, professor included, that was open to the entire program. The buildings were incredible, and it was quite a strange experience to be walking where the ancient kings of France used to walk (it was built in the 14th century!)... History time, kiddos: the Château was turned into a prison sometime in the 18th century (and I use the term "prison" lightly; it was basically where the government stuck philosophers and writers that offended them for a time) and you can still see the engravings on the walls of the different prisoners throughout the centuries. The grounds also feature the gorgeous Sainte-Chapelle church. Okay, that's all the history I have, sorry. But it was mostly because I was too worried about no longer being able to breathe - the Château was unbelievably cold and windy. Something about castles, man. The drafts, they kill. Explains the giant fireplaces inside, but unfortunately none of them are in use anymore. I actually cannot remember the last time I've been so cold, I was so nervous I took out my Epi-Pen and held it in my pocket for the remainder of the tour because I was slowly losing feeling in my extremities. Oh, the life of a porcelain doll. Alright, enough whining. Pictures:

Sainte-Chapelle.

I kind of look like a boy here...oh well.

View from a window inside the "prison"

Inside the Sainte-Chapelle! This picture is awkwardly out of order, can't figure out how to move it. L'oops.

There were hundreds of teeny tiny stairs.

Casual fireplace photo op.

More Sainte-Chapelle! The huddle of people in the back are Americans crowding around the one space heater.

Tea across the street to warm up afterwards. And no, I didn't take off any outerwear the whole time (have you ever tried to eat a pastry with gloves on? I have).

3. A visit to the Jardin des Plantes/Zoo and the salon de thé inside La Grande Mosquée de Paris. Our French university buddies took a group of us here yesterday. Both of these places are actually right next door to Paris III, but I awkwardly did not know this until yesterday since I always go left instead of right... yeah. Anyway, the plant garden wasn't very overwhelming right now, but I think in the spring and summer it must be stunning! The zoo inside was a lot bigger than I was expecting, and there were a lot of animals that I've never seen before (and since the names were French, I don't really know what they were... I think most of them were types of yaks or something similar). It actually wasn't too cold yesterday, so we spent several hours looking at all the different animals (including a small petting zoo type area in which my buddy attempted to catch a chicken to bring home as a pet). Going to the Paris Mosque was so cool - the architecture inside was gorgeous, and I'm pretty sure I drank the best tea of my life (mint and honey!!). It was very crowded but we were lucky enough to find a table - as well as buy some of the pastries they sell! So. Good. Ugh. (Think lots of almond paste, pistachio, dates, and honey...yes please, yes I will eat two, thanks). Pictures from yesterday:

The plant-less plant garden.

Hi

Hiiiii

Hey

La Grande Mosquée de Paris

4. Random observations that I keep forgetting to mention: do you know how many small dogs I have seen tucked inside pocket books and coats, hanging out with their owners on the subway? It's true that Paris is the city of dog-lovers (I am definitely okay with this) but the only non-pint sized dog I've seen is my host doggie, Toby (and the French don't really seem to like him, but that might be because his bark is super scary sounding). Also, I can't figure out if nobody's thought of making it illegal to not clean up after your dogs, or if there is a law, just nobody cares about it... although come to think of it, I've never seen a policeman patrolling anywhere in the city. In fact, the only times I've seen cops, they've either been ignoring everybody in the métro, or all dressed in riot gear waiting for yet another demonstration. Anyway, the point is that one must always watch where one steps.

Last Thursday, I started my volunteer "internship" where I help kids from disadvantaged families with their English and French literature homework. The kids are all between 12 and 18 years old, and it definitely varies from one to the next how willing they are to actually do their homework (one girl really wanted me to write her English paragraph for her... it took forever to get her to try it on her own). Some of the littler ones are happy to just chat in English to practice, although they don't know very much and tend to slip quickly back into French. The 12 year olds, after learning I was American, wanted to know if I liked Justin Beiber (Bieber? Uhh...), Katy Perry, or Brad Pitt, and they were very quick to show me a picture in their textbook that they found disgusting (it was a photo of a British breakfast, and yeah, it was gross...baked beans at 7am? Really, England?) and so interpreted it as all English-speakers eat really weird things. It was neat to look at the English textbooks, although the weird thing about the French system is that they learn French grammar at the same time as they learn English grammar, and it is confusing for them (and for me, when I was helping) to do both at once. I'll be working there once a week, and then I'm also starting a paid(!!) position helping the sons of Brigitte's friend practice their English next week. 

On Saturday morning, I had a supplementary class (because of all the holidays, we'll miss several classes since they're only once a week...notably, this was the only teacher that seemed to be bothered by this fact and so scheduled a make-up date) where we watched a film that was not at all supposedly based off of La Princesse des Clèves from the 17th century. (The book is famous in France now after Sarkozy publicly said a while back that it was ridiculous that questions on the book, considered the prize of early French literature, were featured on the French civil service entrance exams, which was taken to mean that he felt universities should focus on business and not wasteful things such as literature. Scandalous!) And by "watched a film," I mean we sat in a classroom for 90 minutes while every tech person the university employs came by to attempt to first turn on the sound, then turn down the sound, then turn up the sound, then find the correct remote, then find another classroom since they couldn't find the remote, then attempt to fix the sound in the new classroom, then find the correct remote for that television. Oof. The movie was good... for a French film (hi-yo!), and I can't say I understood everything since all the actors were teenagers who spoke a little too fast for this foreigner. Anyway, after the class but before the visit to the zoo, etc., I went to the Paris III library to be studious. Check out how many French people were there:

One...is the loneliest number...

Alright, I suppose I should attempt to finish this exposé now. It's way over my head, but that's what Bowdoin's Credit/Fail study abroad policy is for, eh? Just kidding, any Bowdoin faculty reading this on the OCS site. Just kidding. I'll leave y'all with some pictures of part of last night's dinner - host mom went on yet another press tour, and got yet another gift: fancy French cheese! This came with a kit featuring a wooden cheese board and two special cheese knives. It's chèvre (yummy!), and it's in varying degrees of aging (although the difference between the three aged cheeses wasn't that noticeable to my unrefined palate), and it's also unpasteurized, which I was cheerfully informed by my host mom is "illegal in America!" Well, I'm not dead yet!

The cutest little cheeses (on the left is the most aged, the right is the least aged).

 Okay. Okay. Okay. Work time! Since I love you all so much, you'll get just one more photo - the Palais/Opéra Garnier building that I spotted coming out of the, uh, Opéra station one morning. Paris je t'aime.

x R.

PS: Apparently the readership of this blog is much higher than expected, due to the number of silent creepers. Do leave comments and say hello :)))