The one where I think home should not be so far

So all in all, I survived my first set of midterms in graduate school. The change from undergraduate to graduate was not horrible, maybe the tests were a little more detailed, but it was do-able. I also did get my application off for the internship program in DC, so hopefully that works out. It would be nice to live in the US for a bit, even if it’s just for the summer. I could use the change of pace…anyways, the hardest things though was the thesis proposals and outlines I had to finish. I never did anything like that before, so it took me a while to figure out how to do the research and what topic I wanted. The problem I’m running into is because I never had any undergraduate classes in International Relations, it’s hard for me to narrow down to a topic I’ll be happy with. It just took more time than I thought it would, but at least it’s over and I have been officially hazed into graduate school. Technically I’m not done (I still have to remind myself of this) as I have a paper due on Wednesday, but my stress level has gone way down and I can do things at my own pace now. Yesterday I made Florian dinner as a thank you for putting up with me during midterm, so it was nice to spend some time with him because I really haven’t spent quality time together in like two weeks. Tonight I saw my group of friends who I haven’t seen in a month, so it was good to catch up and have a social life. I’ve gone from seeing my friends at least two or three times a week to maybe once a month. Oh the joys of grad school. Anyways, now spending the weekend trying to knock off this pesky little paper, and then Florian and I are heading to the south for a few days. We are both just really burnt out and the break will be good.

So, normally I’m not a fan of complaining on my blog, but as the holiday season rolls around it really stings to not be in California. In the USA the string of time between Halloween to New Years is a great time to be with family in the country. The stores are a lot more festive, houses put up their decorations, you can take the days off to relax with friends and family…It really helps get you through the winter, especially having the holiday season last a little longer and a little bit more intense. Halloween and Thanksgiving really make a difference. And I can’t help but feeling depressed that another year will past that I will miss it. Thanksgiving is really one of those holidays I always wish I was home, and this will be the third one I will have missed. We tried doing it last year with a few of my friends, but we were unprepared and it turned out kind of ghetto and the french boys criticized the food (Why would you eat turkey with cranberry sauce?). This year we are going to be a little more on top of things and get a real turkey, so hopefully we can try to pull something more real off. However it still sucks that it’s not a holiday here and you can’t have the whole day to sit around with your friends and family while dinner is cooking. A few of my friends have told me “Uhhh, I’ll come if I can make it” in which I am going to turn into a mom and tell them to either come on time or let me invite someone who wants to be there…I’m sure I could find other Americans who feel the nostalgia that I do.

I am also not going home for my holiday break in December. I have a month off, but because last year we did the holidays in California, this year we are doing it with Florian’s family. I feel torn about it. I love his family, I really do. They are great people and I could not ask for a better family for my boyfriend. They rented a cabin in the mountains, so we will be going skiing there for about 10 days or so between Christmas and New Years. I tell people this and I get “You are so lucky! What a charmed life!” Which is true, and I probably would feel better about it if hadn’t been a year since I’ve been back to California. It’s the longest that it’s been since I’ve seen most of my family and friends. I did see my parents back in April in Chicago, but that was not a nice vacation trip. So I battle with myself, trying not to feel resentful that I am with his family and not my own. Part of being in a relationship is having to make the sacrifices of balancing families, part of being in an international relationship is not seeing your family more than once or twice a year. It just sucks when the former two collide during this time of the year. So I’m lucky, I am, and I know there are worse things in the world that people are dealing with…but just this year it really sucks not being home. So there, I said what I’m not suppose to say.

 

If you take the red research card, you will go further down the rabbit hole.

It’s almost 8am in the morning, and I’m waiting for the gym to open up.  I desperately need an outlet at the moment, as I am currently studying for midterms/making thesis outlines/ applying for an internship in Washington DC for the summer. I will be happy to finally join the real world and my friends at happy hour after all this is over. However, I thought I would post about another “local” part of Paris that your average tourist would not see.

When I was studying for the GRE, I went to the Centre Pompidou to study. It’s a cool little library in the center of Paris, and it is free to enter to study. However, this also equates to there being a long line to get in at mostly any given point. Seriously, in the US you would never wait in line to enter a library and study! I couldn’t even fathom the same situation at my old University. Now that I’m actually in graduate school and do not have the time to wait around in line, I thought it might be in my best interest to seek another alternative. So I started to check out the Bibliotheque nationale de France.

The BNF is the second largest library in the world, only after the Library of congress in DC. It doesn’t take me long to get there, as I only live about three stations away off the line 14. There is a little cute health food restaurant between the metro and the library, which is prefect to buy a balanced lunch for later in the day. I go to the East Wing, and if it is not Sunday I am able to get into the library without a line. The Library is mainly in a large rectangular shape, with large tree growing in the middle of the rectangle. It’s pretty cool if you are on the second floor, which is what most people have access to. It is definitely a step up from the centre Pompidou, not nearly as crowed. The high school/undergraduate vibe is still there, especially on Sundays when most other places in Paris are closed.

Because I am in a Master’s program and supposedly need to do research for my thesis, I got a year membership for the research section of the library which is downstairs. I didn’t use this priviledge until yesterday, when I came to the library after lunch only to find the entire upper level was “saturee.” I made my way towards the downstairs, first by checking my backpack and putting all my books in a clear plastic case. I used my little red research card at the door, and it allowed me to pass. I entered into a set of double doors and honestly felt like I had just entered the matrix, like that part where a million guns slide by from thin air. I walked through the science fiction like corridors, down a few escalators and to the front desk. I timidly slid my way to the librarian, and asked her what I needed to do to get in. She made a reservation for which seat I will be at, which was conveniently located next to the international relations section.

The vibe in the room was so cool. It was only graduate students and professionals.  No high school students trying to flirt and/or make out with each other. It was quite. I just sat there for a minute, enjoying the fact that I had found the quietest place in Paris, which in itself emulates the science fiction atmosphere of the library. I was just relieved to get away from the noise of the city that I wasn’t even stressed out about midterms.

Seriously, is it weird that I am this enthusiastic about a library? When most people think of Paris, they think of the shopping, croissants and the Eiffel tower. For me, life is Paris. The metro, being a little rougher around the edges, the marches, the cars honking, the lack of personal space, no room to breath because everyone is smoking. I’m happy when I’m productive, which is not something I’ve really had to do before I started school. But now, I found a little corner that I can escape the madness of this city. A little club exclusive only to those who are serious about being there with a mutual understanding of keeping the peace.

I do believe Paris has something for everyone. For some, they find their groove shopping at Galerie Lafayette, and others it is walking through the night scene at Bastille. For me, it’s just having my own little quite space where I can concentrate and work on something that has meaning for me.

 

Crash Course in Kiev: Lessons in Diplomacy

So the lack of blogging has been due to being busy with school, related professional activities and just the need to get out of the house with friends. Again, it is cool to feel like I am doing something for my personal growth and future in Paris. Overall things are going smoothly. I did go to Kiev for a NATO conference last week, and was asked to write a newspaper article for my school. It’s just a draft, but I still thought I would post it to keep you all updated. If you have suggestions on it, let me know before it goes into print. Enjoy:

The day I arrived, the cloudy sky provided a somber background for the cement architecture. The bus passed by a Soviet Union statue of a women holding up a sword. I was no longer in Kansas – or Paris – anymore, but I was in Kiev. It is not only that I had never been this far East before, but I had never been this far into the world of diplomacy. I had gotten my BA in psychology, thus International Relations and Diplomacy had become a relatively new area for me. I decided a good way to get my feet wet was to attend the 55^th General Assembly for the Atlantic Treaty Association, which is an umbrella group of NATO. Little did I know I was about to be soaked.

I made it to the hotel, got changed into my newly purchased business suit for the occasion, and made my way down to the conference hall. The speaker was reading his report of the strategic plan in Afghanistan in a monotone voice. His speech fell on specious ears, as I, like many other nationalities of NATO, are hesitant to contribute more resources to this problem. What came next did perk up my attention. Tahera, who was born in Afghanistan but grew up in Canada, was the next person to present on the panel. She had been able to spend the last five summers in Afghanistan doing humanitarian work; and because she was able to infiltrate the society and gain the trust of the people, she was able to get a clear sense of what the real situation was in Afghanistan. Her assessment was that the civilians of the country did not want the Taliban – who would want to live in a country where your personal, educational, and economical security is at stake all the time? However they fear the Taliban, and thus leads to little support for American and NATO troops. If NATO could change its tactics to a longer-term strategy of building up the cities, the economy, and the education under the security of NATO troops, then we might be able to fight a war we can win. Win the hearts and minds of the people by teaching them how to think for themselves in a safe environment instead of allowing the Taliban to continue thinking for them.

She presented her power point presentation, showing a couple getting married, the resources of fine rubies and gems that the Afghans could use to build up their economy, a man who was beaten and had his nose cut off by the Taliban, an Afghan baby who was either going to be educated or live in fear of the Taliban. It was inspiring. I managed to track her down later during dinner that night and hear the stories that didn’t make it to the presentation. During her time in Afghanistan, she almost got killed four times, ranging from a missed taxi that lead to the heart of a suicide bomb attack to straying too far from the safety of her hotel and being captured by the Taliban. Her descriptions were vivid, and her life story was inspiring. First lesson of Diplomacy learned: When trying to convince people of your point of view, do not tell them – show them.

The next day the students and young professionals broke away into the YATA group (Youth Atlantic Treaty Associations).  I met so many interesting, levelheaded and articulate people from all over Europe and North America which I am so gratefully to have shared my experience in Kiev. Despite the vast diversity in the room, we shared the bond that we want to be the leaders of tomorrow. I sat through the formalities of the YATA general assembly, the annual reports, the elections, and the panels. The tone inside the conference room was very professional and diplomatic. Outside the conference room, these people were very friendly and easy to talk to, from the young international law student in Hungry to the to the PhD Student in the Czech Republic. I learned more about how to get involved in YATA, what these people do or are planning on doing for careers, and other professional tips. I have to say I have many more facebook friends after this conference.

That night the YATA and the ATA joined for a reception at the Ambassador to the Ukraine’s House. The professionals I met that night have taught me more about careers in international relations then I could have discovered through my own means. I met two foreign services delegates from the US who were finishing their training in Kiev and what it took to pass the Foreign Service exam. I chatted over wine with the ambassadors from the USA and Germany about how their families cope with mobility and estrangement being a permanent part of life. I debated differences between going into the field of Academia verses working directly in Diplomacy with the US Deputy Assistant Secretary of Defense for Russia, Ukraine and Eurasia. I met the US Public Diplomacy Officer to NATO and discussed how her career has progressed over the last eight years of working in the Foreign Service. I talked to the French diplomats in French, and if nothing else proved to myself that I could talk to someone influential in French and not sound like a two year old.  I have no idea where these contacts will lead me, but I am certain I am better off and more knowledgeable about the field because I have met them. However, I do plan to follow up with these people in the future and am even planning of following a few internship leads for this summer. Second lesson of Diplomacy learned: It is imperative to put yourself in a situation to network, because you never know where it may lead you.

The following day their were many panels about weather the Ukraine should join NATO, a topic I was not too familiar with before my arrival in Kiev. This was the hot topic of the conference, as NATO was holding a conference in a territory that wasn’t officially part of the organization. Between listening to the Russians, the USA, and the Ukraine there was tension in the air that was toned down by the formality of Diplomacy. To add to the intensity, the Ukrainian President decided not to show up at the last minute, due to elections in the country being held at the end of the month and NATO being highly unpopular with the more conservative generation. I listened to the debates along with one of the elderly diplomats snoring in the back. Why should I be interested in this?

I got my answer the last day a few hours before my flight home. The group tour cut a little too close to my flight back to Paris, so I decided to take myself out to see the city. One of the volunteer translators, Irena, offered to take me around Kiev. Considering my Russian is non-existent, I was more than happy to have a local show me around. We walked to the center of the city, and I learned that she spent three months in Florida working at Universal Studios as a waitress. We had a something in common – we both missed the US, but for completely different reasons. I told her about my family and my life in California, and she told me about her life in the Ukraine. “The difference between the USA and us is you all are free, we are not.” Shocking to her from a girl just barely over 20 years old. She took me to a park, and as we made the turn in the road I could see two distinctly different things residing in one moment. There where two intimidating soviet monument, and around them were dozens of dogs and children. There was a dog run taking place at the park, and families gathered from the surrounding areas to enjoy the Saturday afternoon with their loved ones.

It was humbling moment, to see the two worlds intertwined standing next to my new friend whose world was so different than my own. It dawned on me that this is what Diplomacy is about. Sometimes issues such as “The war in Afghanistan” or “Security in the Ukraine” become so abstract that we are able to distance ourselves to a place where it all becomes a theoretical debate at arms length. What we might fail to realize is there is not a huge difference between Diplomacy and Humanitarian work. The choices we will make will affect the lives of others, weather it is the opportunities afforded to a young girl in Kiev or the ability for a man in Afghanistan to realize he has a right to be educated without being tortured or killed.

Third lesson of Diplomacy learned: Never lose your integrity in the field of International Relations. We will be working in a field where other’s lives will be affected by our choices, and therefore we have the morale obligation to live up to the highest standards.

 

New York

I rarely have dreams that I can remember. The only time I can however is when I’m just not sleeping well. My friends woke me up early this morning (which is fine anyways, it allowed me to get a lot done) but I crashed around 4pm due to general lack of sleep over the last few days.

I dreamed I was home. Not in California, but New York where I went to high school. That concept of home when you are a kid. You have your room, your little safe place in the world. I was on my bed. In my dream I could hear my Mom outside in the bathroom that was next to my room, putting towels away and turning the water on. My greyhound dog (he passed away about 4 years ago) came up and sniffed my hand and I petted him on the head. Then both my cats (who are safe in California and probably very happy that my parents are back) came up to me as well.

It seems like there wasn’t a ton of action in my dream, but when I woke up it was a shock to be in Paris. Man, I haven’t had that type of nostalgia about New York in a long time.  I didn’t really like living in upstate NY per say, but I think everyone has attachments to the place where they really grew up. It was more missing the house I grew up in and my dog. Living in California (as I recently relived through my friends from college who visited these past few days) seems like another lifetime. But New York, I’m so far removed from that life and that concept of home.

 

Thoughts that are precluding sleep

It is 2am and I shouldn’t be up right now. I have a ton of things to do, but my mind is spinning. After a year and a half of bumming around Paris, I’m actually busy!!! Ok, I’ll do this in bullet form to just get this all out:

- I started graduate school this week. I am taking methodology, factors and theories in international relations, and global communications. I spend the first two days trying to absorb everything, and today organizing it all…I have sooooo much reading to do! Plus some of the books have not arrived yet (apparently it is difficult to get text books to the US) which will make it interesting to read 4 chapters before class on Tuesday. I also have an oral presentation for my second class in global communications. I’m not really freaked out about the work load, but I just have a lot I will need to do this weekend. It is really good however, to be doing something I feel is meaningful and challenging…even if it keeps me awake at night.

- The people on my program seem interesting. Between classes, getting settled into school, having friends from the US visit me this week, going to the prefecture for my new visa, etc. I really haven’t had a chance to really make friends. I feel that there is a lot of bonding over the whole novelty of Paris in these situation, and that really doesn’t apply to me. However I’ve met people with similar backgrounds…lots of people from california, one or two language assistants, even a few with French boyfriends…so it is still promising. I’m looking forward making friends.

- Speaking of making new friends, you have to keep the old ones too. I’m so proud of my little group of friends. A year ago we were all struggling to find our place in Paris, meanwhile drinking very good wine in the middle of the day with each other. One friend is now a hired photographer and has been selected for an exhibit for women photographers under 30. Another friend got married and has been staying here “illegally”, and after a year or so she recently got her paperwork to stay legally in France, and therefore she will be able to start actually living in Paris. We’ve come a long way, although I will miss random lunch with the girls days.

- My boyfriend is the best. He has been super supportive, offering to make me food, cleared off space for my books, and totally took care of all the prefecture details for me. He is the greatest and I am the luckiest.

- Signed up for French classes. I’m going to be at a B1 level, for those of you where that actually means something. I need to pass the DELF for this level to start my French masters. Regardless, I’m very satisfied at how far my French has come…I was actually helping other people out on my program by telling them what they needed to say in French. I know stuff!

- I have been accepted as a US delegate to the Atlantic Treaty Association General Assembly. In October I will be going to a conference for 4 days in the Ukraine to listen directly from the leaders of NATO. More to come on this…

- My parents went HOME! They are safe and sound in California. I’m so proud of all they have survived over the last 6 months, and for me it is such a relief that I know they are ok, even if they are thousands of miles away. Hopefully talk will turn to when they will finally visit me…

-Why the hell am I still awake??? Seriously, I need to stop thinking and get some rest if I am going to get anything done. If I’m not blogging a ton, hopefully it is because I’m actually studying. But I have to say, I’m so excited about my life.

 

3 Years :-)

Yesterday Florian and I had a very nice dinner at home. We had olives to start, followed by foie gras, duck with potatoes for the main course, and for dessert we split a pear tart. We had a bottle of red wine from 2006, because 3 years ago from yesterday I started going out with Florian.

So how we met: The PG version because I know my mom reads this

My friend Courtney got a job being a resident adviser during the summer at our university in California. Apparently the office made a mistake, and gave her a house full of ONLY French boys as our university did an exchange program with a French computer engineering school for 3 and a half weeks. At the time I was a psychology major, had never been to France, never learned French, and knew nothing about the French culture. But seriously, when your best friend has a house full of 25 French guys all to herself, you expect her to share, right?  Anyways, Courtney planned to take her guys out to a club. I went along with one of our friends named Gina

I drove Florian and two other guys to the club. He was sitting in the middle seat in the back. He was trying to speak in English, and then got frustrated and spoke in French (Man French sounded so much better when I didn’t know what people were saying!) . But in his broken English he said something along the lines of “I could write a book about compensation” and “I want to communicate with you!” It was cute, he was trying.

So we got the the club, and the boys starting drinking ( I didn’t obviously because of the whole driving thing). We started dancing, and if you’ve been to a club in California you know that the style is…more risque. Shocking to our little group of French conservative men, but hey, we weren’t in France. He told me this later, but Flo wanted to learn to dance “like an American” so he went up to these two black guys and asked them to teach him out to dance. Seriously, I can imagine him in his broken English saying “Hello, I am French and I want to learn how to dance with that girl.” I’m also happy he didn’t get punched in the face.

In France, clubs close around 5am. So most of the guys were pretty “tipsy” when the club closed at two, because they thought they would have more time. We were trying to round up the guys, but we were missing one guy named Kevin. We we two drivers down because they decided to drink, so I had to make two trips to get all the French guys. On my second trip back, they had found kevin, but he had gotten into a fight with another guy at the bar and he was either punched or kicked in the mouth (Ok so the club was in Santa Anna, not really the best neighborhood). One of our guy friends drove Kevin back to the house, and about 10 minutes after I dropped off the last of the Frenchies I got a call from Gina asking me to come back. Apparently the French boys had called the police for Kevin, and Courtney had disappeared. So I went back, and soon afterward the police showed up, and Florian and another guy came up to me and asked “Should we make the police coffee?” I, being sober and speaking fluent English, had to give the Police report. Courtney forever owes me for this. The police couldn’t really do anything, except tell us to take Kevin to the E.R. Courtney finally reappeared and had locked herself out of her room, so she came to the ER with us in a sweater and pj shorts. Flo came with us and we stayed at the hospital until 8 am.

Afterward I drove us all back to the house, and I was so exhausted that Courtney let me sleep in her room before driving back to my place. I woke up and Florian was making scrambled eggs with the other guys, and he offered to make some for me. Seriously, I think I was so hungry and so tried that those were by far the best scrambled eggs I have ever had. Florian wanted to know when I was coming back, so I told him I would return later that night after I went home for a few hours. Jump forward a few hours, and I come back and Florian comes up to me and kisses me on the check (Remember, I’m American, it’s very weird when people kiss you on the check. I thought he was being really forward, lol). We went to the beach and walked on the sand, and for the rest of the time we did everything together.

He left, but told me he would come back after Christmas. I thought he was crazy (Dude, you live in FRANCE!) so a month before he came I told him we wouldn’t work out. He already bought his ticket, so I let him come. I avoided my parents for a good two weeks while Florian was staying with me. But we had so much fun when he came! He brought confit de canard (Duck), foie gras, and two bottles of champagne, seriously I had never had anything so good. I took him to Vegas and we drank margaritas and I told him to take me to Paris (And he did, and then we went down the street to New York and some other hotels on the strip). I took him all over California. I had a beachfront apartment in Newport, so at sunset we could drink wine on the porch and chill. When he had to leave again, it was so sad and I just couldn’t give him up. I got a call from my dad that same day, which I let go to voice mail, which said “If you don’t call now I am coming down to your apartment and will be there in 30 minutes.” At which point I called and confessed that I had been hiding a French boy at my apartment and I had to take him to the airport. The only thing my dad was pissed off about was that we drank the champagne without him. Florian came back two months later for a month. And that point I had finished pretty much all the classes I need to graduate, so I decided to take a semester off to study in Paris.

Things that have changed in the last 3 years:

- My university has made it a rule that the RA’s are not allowed to date the French boys and Courtney has gone down as a legend of the “Girl who had her resident kicked in the face.” However, she has now been married for almost a year to her Frenchie.

- Florian’s English is really, really good. French doesn’t sound as pretty to me, but I can understand it! I’ve learned a second language.

- The wine and the food I have been exposed to would blow your mind.

- I have grown so much. I studied in Paris and really grew during the first 5 months trying to adjust to life here. I graduated, came back to teach English, and soon I will be starting grad school here. It’s been almost a year since I have been living her continuously. I’ve learned to become a much more relaxed and positive person.

- Florian and I have become so much closer. Like, drinking wine trying to communicate in broken English is cute and all, but when you are trying to figure out how to get pacsed or put ikea furniture together or other daily living together stuff, that what matters. Throughout this whole new chapter in my life, Flo has been that constant element when everything became so different. These last three years have been…I don’t even know how to describe the ups and the downs…but I’m so glad that this is where my life is.

 

La note

Well, I have officially completed my French courses at the Sorbonne. Overall I do have to say it was a good experience; I met people who I felt comfortable speaking only in French, my grammar and conversational skills are much better, and interestingly enough I have a good grip on what I don’t know so I can focus on what I need to improve. Of course I didn’t have a real vacation this year and I’m still totally stressed out, but the grass is always greener on the other side of the fence. If I did have a French 6 week vacation, I would have come back totally relaxed and my french still would have been…errr, not good enough for the life I am living. At least I know what the plus-que-parfait is and I’ll be able to start at a higher French level once my masters program starts. Maybe next year I’ll take those 6 weeks off.

So overall I improved a ton and I am marking the summer off as a success. However, I got my grade and this is where I still find the French grading system shocking. It’s out of 20 points, and above 16 is in the A range, above 13 is around the B range, and above a 10 is in the C range. May I note that nobody ever gets a 20 or a 19…or an 18. Honestly, I don’t really care about my grade (Because I don’t have to and it’s a miracle I was able to stay sane enough with everything else going on this summer) , but to my American brain it was shocking getting a 14 for the class. Like, in French terms it’s ce n’est pas mal (Not bad) but for me, I look at that and think “Shit, that’s 70%  which is a C minus!” Anyways, like I said I learned a lot and I’ll just have to chalk up the grade to cultural differences. On to the next thing.

So I have a little less than two weeks before school starts. We went to Normandy this past weekend for Flo’s Mom’s birthday, and we ate very well. We had a bottle of wine from 1954 which was the year his mom was born, and that was one of the best wines I have tasted. Leonore (Flo’s niece) is starting to talk which is the cutest thing ever. She can not say Stefanie, so for now I am “Na-Ni.” It was good to get out of Paris. So for the rest of my vacation I’m planning on getting my head a little more centered and focused before I have to hit the ground running for school…so this means catching up on yoga and time with friends. It looks like Flo and I will be going away to Brussels for a long weekend as well, which is great because it’s the first vacation we have taken without family just the two of us since…well, since a long time. Really looking forward to clearing my head a bit.

 

Bad movie idea

Ok, So I have an idea for a movie. So there is this girl who goes to live in Paris, but leaves her dad with a rare autoimmune disease that he has been battling with for ten years back in California. While she is undergoing an internal battle about what to do with the new direction in her life, her dad finds a rare stem cell treatment that may cure his disease. However, a month before he goes to the hospital, his best friend who has nearly the same disease dies. He undergoes the treatment, but ends up catching the swine flu at the hospital. His daughter wants to come out to help out her parents, but alas, the swine has FUCKING MUTATED and is now resistant to tamiflu, or the anti viral medications used to treat the flu. The Center for Disease Control get involved, as he is one of 9 people in the world with this rare flu strain. They have declared him a national public health threat, and thus have quarantined him to his hotel room. The girl, who has finally found a more specific direction and will be starting graduate school, is therefore unable to visit because then the situation would escalate to an international level, and she would probably end up being quarantined by the French police (Doesn’t that sound like fun, n’est pas?). Therefore she must wait 5 more months before there is the possibility of going home to see her parents.

…Oh wait, that’s not a movie, that’s my life!

….Seriously, who does this happen to? Sometimes things get to such a ridiculous level to the point that I can not believe this is happening to my family. I wish my life was more of an independent film status, where my biggest problem was learning the language and culture or finding enough money to pay for metro tickets or getting yelled at by the mean French lady across the hall. No, my life is a bad lifetime channel series. I wish I could just throw money at all this crap and make it disappear.

On the plus side, my dad does sound better and it sounds like he is recovering slowly. He’s a fighter. I believe he is going to be ok. But Just processing how bad things got is like…are you fucking kidding me!?!?! And knowing I can’t go home. I have some time off before my masters program starts, and I wish I could just go to the US for a bit and see my family.

This is just all on a whole new level.

 

Le spa!

I can be a very high strung person. This is why Flo is so good for me, because he is so calm and definitely does not feed into my “AHHHHHHHH!” mentality. But I have to tell you the last few weeks have been so stressful, like on a whole new level for me. In the past month I had to finish my graduate school application, then after I got accepted I freaked out about if I was doing the right thing, and then I freaked out about going into thousands and thousands of dollars into debt. Usually I have my dad to at least bounce ideas of off, but he so sick right now which has greatly added to my stress. He caught the swine flu after his stem cell transplant, and is currently trying to fight that off. He now weights less than I do, and I’ve been really worried about him. I am debating if I should go out to Chicago again and try to help my parents out before Graduate school starts, but I am worried that France would not let me back into the country if I was in contact with the swine flu, and I have my appointment at the prefecture for my carte de sejour in September that I have waited 3 months for. So I have to focus on my new school and the consequences that entails, worrying about my family, and then I have to focus on French classes.

….Thank GOD for the spa!!!!

My mom taught me the importance of spa. You have to take time out for yourself if you plan on getting anything done. And I believe in Paris, this is critical. I have become so wrapped up in the city life along with all the other stuff that was mounting in my life, I couldn’t relax and I could feel myself being tense all the time. I never actually went to the spa in Paris before, and I forgot how relaxed I actually could be!

I found a Thai spa around hotel de ville which is fabulous. In the states  usually do the traditional massages, so the Thai aroma therapy massage was pretty different from anything I had ever gotten before. The massage therapist were very nice, and the atmosphere was really soothing. You pretty much lay down on the floor, so the massage therapist is pretty much directly over you, but at least they can really work at your muscles. She also did my front, which was interesting…It was good in the fact that I usually take out most of my stress on my stomach, but still and little bit too exposed. When in Paris do as the Thai do?  Afterward they gave me a little tea kettle and they have a little tea area, so I just sat there for an extra half an hour drinking green tea. Anyways, here is where I went: http://www.thai-spa.fr/en/endroit.php?son=

After I left, I was a complete slug. I had no idea I could be that relaxed in Paris. Even just for a few hours I could block out the cars, the people in the metro, and all the noise. I felt relaxed for the first time in weeks. Here is the deal with the spa: Many people see it as a quick fix. It’s not going to pay my student loans, it’s not going to make my dad better nor is it going to improve my French. It does, however, provide a reset button. There is only so far you can go at such a high pace without losing your mind. I have had to really grow up the last few weeks and do things without a lot of outside opinions. I needed to hit my reset button and realize I could deal with all the things that are coming at me. It let me block it out in a healthy way, and now I’m dealing with it all.

Seriously, if you are living in Paris, I highly recommend getting a massage, it’s amazing what the difference is between high-strung city life, and being a slug.

 

The expat code

So something really sad happened. Remember how I was saying that classes at the Sorbonne were fabulous and my teacher was awesome? Yeah, that professor left on vacation at the beginning of August. The biggest confidence boost to my French ability is probably off somewhere in the south of France drinking wine. The sad thing however, is the guy that replaced him. Seriously, I am getting more and more annoyed at this guy. There is code of how to act around people who are not of your nationality, if anything just a code of respect. So I will give you this code, as I see it.

THE EXPAT CODE.

1. LISTEN.

When I was in high school I got some very good advice when I was changing schools. I was told listen, see how things work and then you can figure out how to react. I couldn’t find this to be more true, especially when you are dealing with people who come from all different cultures. You aren’t able to understand anyone and build a connection if you talk all the time. While technically the professor is not an expat in France, he was an expat walking into the dynamics of our class. Anyways, so the new professor starts the class, and asks me to introduce myself. Personally I’m really shy the first time I talk to someone in French, so I stutter out “Je viens aux etats-unis.” Before I could even finish my little intro, he cuts me off and says “Tu ne viens pas aux etats-unis, tu viens DE aux etats-unis” and then he moves on to the next person. Great, I get slapped at on the first thing I say, that is going to make me want to speak in class.

2. DON’T TALK SHIT ABOUT OTHER PEOPLE’S CULTURE.

My class consists of people from Brazil, Columbia, Denmark, Germany, South Korea, Japan, China, Mexico, and the US (I’m the only one from the US in my class). By the nature of the language program, you are going to have students who are very diverse, and thus there are certain boundaries to respect. We all had to sign a little agreement with the Sorbonne which read along the lines of it is forbidden to disrespect other nationalities and that the Sorbonne is  a school not associated with any ideological beliefs. The first professor we had was very good about explaining this to us, and when we had to do oral presentations on France he made sure to double check what the topics would be. Anyways, so the new guy shows up, and all he wants to do is talk about stereotypes! For our oral presentations, we have to bring in a newspaper article and share it with the class. Someone brought in an article about Mc Donald’s, which led to who goes to Mc Donald’s on a regular basis. The professor then turns to me, and say something along the lines of “well you are American, what do you think about Mc Donald’s and their massive quantities of Ketchup?” I never go to Mc Donald’s, I hate fast food (though I’ll make an exception for in-and-out). Also someone brought in a paper about a Muslim women who wasn’t comfortable wearing a swim suit at the French pool, so she made her own that pretty much covered her entire body. The debate that followed was whether she should be allowed to wear her swimsuit in France. Needless to say the debate resulted in some raised voices. Seriously, so politically incorrect and not appropriate in a university class room.

3. DON’T TALK SHIT ABOUT YOUR OWN CULTURE

I find it very unattractive when people talk shit about their own Country. If you was to criticize that is different, as there are things about politics in the US I don’t agree with. But there is a line between challenging the current health system in the US, and if I said all Americans eat Mc Donald’s everyday and we are all going to die of heart attacks. So during the last 30 minutes of class on Thursday, our professor asked us to come up with a list of the negative things about France and the French people.

….

Does he realize how awkward that is on so many different levels?!? First off there is a line between students and the professor that he just asked me to cross. He pretty much opened the door for me to say something offensive. Therefore if did I say something offensive, intentionally or not, he is in the power position so if he wants to grade my exam a little bit harder next time, by all means he would have the capacity.  Thus the Sorbonne also wrote that “It is strictly forbidden to show any kind of disrespect to France, the French citizens…etc.” On a higher level, I just didn’t feel comfortable with the exercise. I really don’t like stereotyping people. If you are dumb/smart/good at math/athletic/sympa/a complete connard, it is because you are you, not because you are French/American/Asian/come from the North Pole. And honestly, I live in France, and I am probably going to be here for a long time. If I focus on the negatives, I will not be able to survive. Anyways, so our teacher came to our group and said “What is wrong with you guys, the other group is already on their second page!” Apparently I think I had the biggest problem with this exercise, which makes me a little sad that either I thought all of this through or I’m just too sensitive. C’est dommage that this has to be the focus, because for most people in my class this is their only impression of France, and I believe that the university should be teaching acceptance of cultures instead of trying to make us stupider.

I have the tendency to get over sensitive about things if I really believe that they are unjust. I thought about reporting him, but I don’t think it would do a lot of good. He just makes the 2 hours of French class very painful and by the end of the class my ears want to bleed. I just want the next two weeks to be over with this professor.