Le Marais and Paris by Velib

I know it's been awhile since I've updated y'all, but life is full of things to be doing, etc. I just wanted to put in a little description of why I love Paris:

The other day I was feeling a bit sad. I had no one to talk to coming out of class, so I was just standing outside the library, smoking a cigarrette and thinking that someone might just approach me out of the blue, and oh, wouldn't that be so cool? This did not happen, however I was soon on my way home, walking the full, sunny streets. I heard Italian, French, German, some Scandinavian language, and an African one. I saw singles, couples, families, workers, students, tourists, every type of person imaginable, and all in the space of a few minutes. I took a deep breath and told myself that I have time. I have time to chat and learn and soon enough, I'll be walking out of Sciences Po's big, impressive building on the Rue Saint Guillaume speaking in French to my classmates.

Later that week, I ran into a friend of mine from the Welcome Program. I was talking to him about how the lack of a real campus atmosphere is strange for me because I'm used to being able to open my door and have all of Hampshire College at my fingertips. As I spoke to him, I began to realize how silly it was, really, to feel rushed to meet people. Already that week, I had a fiche technique due, coffee with a friend from Mexico, a party/reunion dinner for my Welcome Program class, a movie with some more friends from Mexico, and all sorts of things to do and discover in Paris. Really what I have is a lack of patience to let friendships grow and let time take it's course.

Friday, I went to my friend Tamas' house for our class' reunion. Tamas is a beautiful boy from Hungary. He's very sharply dressed, speaks impectible English and French, dances Salsa, and has an amazing sense of humor. He's also a very good host. The group of 15 or so of us, from almost every corner of the world spent hours together, talking, laughing, and dancing. It was great craic, as an Irish friend of mine would say. When we all finally left, it was late, and the metro was closed. Theresa (from Germany), Luis (from Brasil), Nigel (from Ireland), and I decided to get some Velibs (the public bike system in Paris) and bike home. Which, after some initial setbacks (yes, I somehow caused an entire Velib station to shut down), we did. We got lost on the way to the Seine, but finally got there, passing by the Place de la Bastille. Crossing the Seine, we were on a roll. There were so few cars and people, that it almost felt as though the entire city were ours. The image of Notre Dame at five am will be forever ingrained in my head. The building rose up, dark against the backdrop of a light-polluted, orange-grey sky. It was sinister and breath-takingly beautiful all at once. The cool morning air rushing through my hair made me giddy. Paris by bicycle at 5am has become the best thing I've done, yet, followed by seeing the Eiffel Tour light up at night with Lucrezia and some friends from Mexico, and hearing street musicians play on a sunny afternoon on the steps of Montmartre. And hearing the Benedictine nuns of Sacre Coeur singing Vespers.

Lucrezia and I saw the new Woody Allen flick on Saturday night with Dulce and Niana. On Sunday, after contemplating a trip to Sacre Coeur to hear Vespers again, Theresa texted me to know if I wanted to explore the Marais with her. I jumped at the chance to see a neighborhood I haven't really spent a lot of time in. The Marais is the Jewish/Gay quarter of Paris and happened to be filled with people selling things for Sukkot. It has become my new favorite place in Paris because everything is open on Sunday. And they sell Challah. Delicious, amazing Challah. mmm... I'm so excited that I still have some left at home right now. Theresa and I also spent hours together chatting about our families, lives, and the relationship status of our classmates. I love that she is always smiling or laughing. Well, not always, but very frequently.

Today, I had lunch with my friend Justin from the Netherlands. Tamas (another one, this one we call- Tamas avec des lunettes- Tamas with glasses) and Theresa ran into us, and we had a very pleasant afternoon in the sun. I love that the cold hasn't quite begun as of yet...

Well, I think that about sums up my life for now...

Pointers and Things to Do

Some pointers for surviving the first few weeks of the intense bureaucracy of France and Sciences Po:

1) The first thing that you should do when you get to Sciences Po is to matriculate by completing the inscription at the Acceuil Administratif. They adhere to an alphabetical calendar with last names starting with A-B being able to matriculate on Monday mornings, B-C on Monday afternoons, and so on. In order to do this you will need the form that you can get online, an identity photo of yourself, 195 euros to pay for student social security in France (more on that later), and a copy of your passport.

2) The inscription pédagogique happens during the first week of the Welcome Program at Sciences Po. Hampshire students complain a lot about the Hub and signing up for classes/not getting into the class they wanted. The Hub’s problems are nothing compared to Sciences Po’s. First of all, class times and dates aren’t listed anywhere except for on the website when you click in a very specific place and are only available just before the inscription. This means you can’t really plan your schedule until just before you sign up for classes. Also, all international undergraduates sign up at the same time. Imagine every single Div I and half of the Div IIs signing up at the same time. I was in front of my computer, on the website at 10 to 10. Inscription began at 10. By the time I clicked on the last class I wanted, it was already full. And so was pretty much everything. By 10:20, the only classes that weren’t completely full were those who had no course description.

3) You will need a bank account in Paris. For a number of different reasons, you will seriously need one. Also- who wants to sleep with thousands of dollars or euros hidden under their bed? I recommend the BNP bank that has special deals for students. You will need proof of matriculation in a French school (hence completing the inscription before getting a bank account). You will also need proof of your address in Paris. Most banks will let you give them a temporary address, but you will need a letter from the person/place you are staying confirming that you are actually there. Almost everything in French banks is needed in writing. Make sure to schedule an appointment with the bank to set up an account.

4) You will need to insure your apartment when you find it. Apartment insurance is obligatory by law in France. The national student union in France recommended Matmut to me for apartment insurance because of their student rates. I haven’t actually done this yet. Also- Always sign a contract when renting an apartment or room in Paris. This can allow you to get help from the French state (even if you’re an international student) to pay for your apartment- visit the CAF website. Signing a contract also keeps you safe from getting kicked out of your apartment. French law stipulates that landlords and other people that rent rooms or apartments must give tenants three months warning before forcing them out of their apartment before the end of the contract. Contracts in France are usually for one year, but as a student, you can rent for only nine months if you choose.

5) Get a Carte ImaginR. This is a card for students that allows you to pay either monthly or yearly for public transportation in the Ile-de-France. It is much, much cheaper than buying metro or bus tickets all year. Transportation costs have been rising in Paris, so this is actually pretty necessary. You can get the dossier for the Carte ImaginR from any metro station window. Send it in with the payment and an identity photo. You will probably have to wait three weeks for the card to arrive in the mail, but if you save the metro tickets you use from the time you sent in your dossier, you can get reimbursed.

6) Get the Découverte 12-25 card. This is a card that can get you up to 50% off on all train travel in France including the Eurostar, and some trains to places like Amsterdam. I really hope that you want to see more than only (I know, you’re thinking “only?! It’s Paris!”) Paris and the surrounding areas so get the card and travel around some.

Time for my super interesting anecdote: France requires that all students belong to the French social security system. The only exception to this rule in if you happen to be an EU citizen with the European Health Card. It doesn’t matter how much you are covered by your American (or other international insurance), you will still have to pay 195 euros. I thought, though, that because I am both covered by my American insurance while I’m in France and also an Italian citizen (i.e. an EU citizen) that I could somehow convince Sciences Po that I didn’t have to pay 195 euros. Funny thing though: Italy only gives the European Health Card (or Tassera Sanitaria) to residents of Italy. I reside in the States. So here I am, covered by the States, Italy, and thus the EU, but still required to pay a huge amount of money for more insurance. At least now I can get super sick, right? Anyway, I personally think that Hampshire should pay this fee- maybe not for me, but definitely for future exchange students.

I don’t know how helpful this is, or how interesting, but I thought I’d give it a try. Feel free to comment/question.

Apartments, Apartments

How not to end up out on the curb in Paris:

1) Wake up really, really early on Thursday morning and buy the PAP, a magazine with listings for apartments of all sizes and prices. This entails you calling the people who want to rent their apartments before 8:30 am. Why? Because you must devote the entire day to seeing apartments before someone else gets there. By 8:30 pm, all of the apartments listed will be gone. I promise.

2) Use all manner of websites, like apartager.com, to find an apartment or colocation. This is a good option, but you will most likely have to be in Paris to actually get something. Remember that when you go see apartments, you will need to have the full amount of first month's rent and the security deposit- either in check form or in cash, because otherwise someone else will have the full amount and they will get the apartment. Colocations are really cool because you get to live with awesome people and pay less for a bigger space (like a bedroom for you and a kitchen and bathroom for the apartment, instead of just have two burners in a room the way you would in a studio).

3) Use an agency. Never give the agency any money before you sign your lease. A lot of agencies are set up in Paris as a ploy to take your money and not give you what you want. I recommend Paris Academic Rentals, an agency that Sarah Lawrence, Columbia University, and Trinity College have contracted to help their students find housing. They charge a month's rent, but all of the places they have are clean, safe, and comfortable. If you want more info, just shoot me an email.

4) Go to Sciences Po's main hall (13, rue Saint Guillaume) and check the bulletin board for people looking for someone to fill their colocation. You could also leave your contact information on the board and hope someone contacts you.

5) Do all of the above in some order that makes sense to you. I ended up using the agency and found it lovely and very helpful. They also take really good care of everything and speak English which is useful if you don't.

Coming soon... The next step- insurance, dossiers, and cheap transportation.

Week One

I am in Paris. In Paris. I ride the métro everyday, watching Africans, Asians, French people, and tourists from all over the world getting on and off, some going about their everyday rituals and some experiencing the City of Lights for the very first time. Two days ago, I went apartment hunting on the Rue Cardinal Lemoine and walked from there to Paris IV, passed l'Institut du Monde Arabe, crossed the river Seine, and headed to the Bastille. I am learning these streets, these stations, these neighborhoods and arrondissements. I can't help but think of L'Auberge Espagnol- the scene where the main character arrives in Barcelona for the first time and speaks about how the streets he sees, with their strange names, are completely foreign, but that in less than a year's time, they will become his streets and his dives. I hope that in less than a year's time, I will know St. Germain des Pres forward and backward. I hope that I can start leaving my metro map at home.

Orientation starts tomorrow. I'm excited and nervous, not sure what to even expect. I have to hand in my registration forms, open a new bank account, sign my rent contract, move into my apartment, and sign up for classes. In French. Which typically is not a huge problem for me, to be honest, but after spending over two months in Italy, I definitely have a huge mess in my brain. Sometimes, I don't even know what I'm speaking. I surprise myself: Italian exclamations coming out of my mouth in the middle of lunch with my French host family (like today) or Spanish infiltrating my conversations with my mom on the telephone. Am I crazy that I want to add German and Arabic to the mix?

Yes.

Do I care? Definitely not.

The time I spent in Italy, though it was hard, physically and mentally (sorry, I'm not quite ready to delve into all that), taught me some things about myself. For one, I love me. It's taken me too long to learn it, but I have some talents. I'm spontaneous, a hard-worker, open, and inviting. I have the capabilities to find my own job, apartment, and make friends from all over the world. I'm just stubborn enough to succeed. (Testona, a co-worker of mine called me. I answered, "Si, but also adorable.") I can even sing. So, am I scared to start this crazy, new experience of mine? Oh, yeah. But I know that I can do it.

A meme from Marina di Campo

So as a welcome to the blogging world, I decided to write a meme. By the way, work is going well. I have little free time and have lost my tan, but I like what I'm doing for the most part and get paid tomorrow.

1. My uncle once: sold Jim Beam. And then Jack Daniels. And now Absolute Vodka...

2. Never in my life: will I ever force myself to settle in a place where I don't feel at home.

3. When I was five: I spoke fluent Italian.

4. High school was: Strange. And I can't remember a lot of it. Except for the year abroad in France things.

5. I will never forget: the way my mom used to look when she would get ready to go out with my dad. They don't really go out any more and my mom looks more her age every day.

6. Once I met: Muhammed Ali. But I was a baby and don't remember it. My mom still has his autograph though.

7. There’s this boy I know: He can make the best cosmopolitans in the world and free styles with glasses and bottles. He's "dangerous" but I like him anyway and he knows it.

8. Once, at a bar: I met two couples from Coeur d'Alene on the Isle of Elba. The next day, I met a woman who had gone to WSU. It's a small world after all.

9. By noon, I’m usually: washing dishes and getting ready for the lunch time wave at the Garden Beach, my lovely place of work. Also very hungry.

10. Last night: I stayed out too late with a boy from Milano.

11. If only I had: more time to learn languages and travel around without needing to work or study.

12. Next time I go to church: I will light a candle for my nonna and the rest of my family.

13. What worries me most: is that I might never find what I really want. A good job I like, a place that feels like home, and my own family.

14. When I turn my head left I see: book and cards and drinks for sale.

15. When I turn my head right I see: another computer and an open window.

16. You know I’m lying when: when I seem really bothered, turn red, and try to leave as soon as possible. Or when I laugh, and then tell you thay I'm lying.

17. What I miss most about the Eighties is: that I didn't get to be a teenager during them. No leggings, no awesome music, and no big hair.

18. If I were a character in Shakespeare I’d be: A cross between Hamlet and Desdemona. Both doomed, but for different reasons and in different ways.

19. By this time next year: I will be getting ready to go back to the States after a year away. Christ.

20. A better name for me would be: somethings all americans can pronounce. Like Sara.

21. I have a hard time understanding: people who are dishonest with me.

22. If I ever go back to school, I’ll: try to actually graduate.

23. You know I like you if: I try to be around you all the time. I will also bite my lip at you and smile whilst raising my eyes toward you shyly.

24. If I ever won an award, the first person I would thank would be: Eric. Actually my parents.

25. Take my advice, never: fall in love with someone who isn't worth it.

26. My ideal breakfast is: Either a perfect cappucino with creamy foam and a raspberry tart or my dad's waffles drenched in maple syrup.

27. A song I love but do not have is: What's Going On? by 4 non blondes

28. If you visit my hometown, I suggest you: eat at Mickey's Gyros, have coffee at One World, hang at the Coop and John's Alley, and watch the sun come up at the water tower.

29. Why won’t people: let me be who I am and stop making fun of my accent in Italian?

30. If you spend a night at my house: I will take very good care of you. I love guests.

31. I’d stop my wedding for: a change of heart.

32. The world could do without: Nationalism.

33. I’d rather lick the belly of a cockroach than: be polite to a cruel person.

34. My favourite blonde(s) is/are: Marilyn Monroe (fake blonde though she was) and the Germans that come to the bar.

35. Paper clips are more useful than: Staples. They come off more easily and you can reuse them.

36. If I do anything well it’s: being a good friend. And talking too much.

37. I can’t help but: think about culture constantly. Seriously, all the time. Ask Eric, he knows.

38. I usually cry: when I'm really angry or when I'm really lonely. Traveling around by yourself is really amazing and makes you independant and stronge, but sometimes all you really want is someone to make you a cup of tea and hug you.

39. My advice to my child/nephew/niece: Learn early on in life who is worth trusting and caring about and who will just try to push you down. Also- speak up when you're uncomfortable, don't understand, or just want to say something.

40. And by the way: I'm really bad about keeping up blogs when I'm busy and don't have my own computer with me. Sorry.... :P

Napoleon's Prison

Today has been full of surprises. I finally found a job here on the Isle of Elba. My job in Parma was lost with the loss of my ex-boss-to-be's money, so I decided to join my cousins in the place where Napoleon was exiled for months. It turns out that Elba is not so bad a place to be exiled. Not only was Napoleon treated like a king, but he also ended up in one of the few places I have been that I can fully declare a paradise. I fell in love with the sea, the sand, the fish, and yes, the people.

The place where I work is a lounge bar where I can hardly afford a cocktail. It overlooks the port and is full of young people. I live in a small apartment with 5 other people, sharing a room with a beautiful girl named Gloria. I love it, even though my feet throb, and it's only my first day. Not so cool thing: the band that plays there at night... Sucks. The musicians are good, don't get me wrong, but the music they play is, let's just say, it's not my cup of coffee.

Awesome thing: today, I tried Basil ice cream. I'm not even kidding. It was weird as heck, but surprisingly good. Not something I would ever get on my own again, but when your co-worker offers you home-made ice cream, do you turn them down?

I was feeling a little blue this evening because the gorgeous man/boy that I've been spending lots of time with is in Pisa for his final exams. I was also alone again, for the first time in months. The last of my cousins left this afternoon on the ship back to mainland Italy. Everyone in in Parma, including my mother and my awesome little brother. I also decided that the music outside my window (see Sucks, above) was going to cause me to commit the grave fault of booing the band, which would, most likely, result in me being fired. I needed to get out of there, and fast. Plan number one: Pizza. It never fails, here in Italy to lighten my mood. I love Italian pizza more than just about any other food.

I strolled down the street, watching blond Germans and brunette Italians shop for souvenirs. I went to the pizza place where I had last been with the entire Gelli-Bianchi clan, La Rustica. Sitting outside, I had a cigarette while contemplating the menu. Considering my budget, I chose a Margherita pizza accompanied by water. The waiters conviced me to have a coffee afterwards, and I asked for the check. Michele (pronouced Mick-é-lé), the same waiter who had served us before, refused to let me pay. With a wink, he whisked the check away and told me to go get a free limoncino from the bar.

I have never been offered a free meal like that from someone who expects nothing. I've only ever been on one real dinner date, and it was obvious then that the boy who took me out thought he was getting some afterwards. Also, it was his daddy's money (the guy was 28, I mean, come on...). The fact that this waiter was cute helped the matter decidedly. I walked, no, skipped down the street with the biggest smile on my face, and thought that I needed to write this day down.

I have a job with the coolest people, in the coolest bar, tried basil ice cream, and was offered dinner by a cute Napolitano waiter. Who knows how to wink. Sometimes, life is wonderful.

Some Background

I was born in the Palouse. In Pullman, Washington to be exact. Since December 6th, 1987, I have lived mostly in Moscow, Idaho, but also in San Sebastian/Donostia, Spain; Bilbao, Spain; Rouen, France; and Amherst, Massachusetts. Most of my summers were spent in my mother's hometown of Parma, Italy, a place that gave birth to prosciutto and Parmigiano-Reggiano cheese. I speak English, French, Italian, and Spanish, and would like to learn German, Arabic, and Basque. Every place I have been has left its mark on me; every language I've heard has managed to leave a trace in my mind.

It's a strange bundle of places... The Palouse, Euskal Herria, Normandy, and the Pioneer Valley. A concoction that is unique to my experience, though I often wish it were otherwise. This year, I stumbled upon "Third Culture Kids," youth and adults who spent large parts of their childhoods abroad due to their parents careers. I finally had a label to attach to myself, a definition that transcended the usual labels of nationality or ethnicity. However, I soon came to realize that TCKs live extraordinarily diverse lives, and my experience of public schools in small town America and Western Europe was not easily replicated.

This year, I will be returning to Parma, this time to work in a local pizzeria and live with my Italian cousins. I will also head to Paris, for an academic year at Sciences Po, the Institute of Political Science. It is my hope that I will come to terms with who I am and that I will find an area of study that will lead to a future career. This blog was created for travel financial aid from my college and the Global Education Office there, but I hope to use it as an aid in my self-explorations and meanderings.

Feel free to leave comments, questions, and whatever else. I'll most likely respond to anything posted since online procrastination is my favorite kind.

The Begining

This is Hampshire College's Mount Norwottuck. It marks the start of my trip, driving from Amherst, Massachusetts to Clarion, PA, then to Chicago, IL, then to Rochester, MN, and then Billings, MT, before finally getting to the place I call "home" (for now anyway): Moscow, Idaho. There will be more on all of this trek, as well as more on the beautiful Palouse to come...