Et une carafe d'eau, s'il vous plaît

I think it's time to talk about food. The culture of eating here is very distinct, and the French take their food and drink seriously. Obviously, I'll have plenty more to say about this topic later, but to start off:

First, the café. Fitting, since I am currently nursing a tea at an outdoor table at La Fée Verte ("The Green Fairy"), a corner establishment a block and a half from my apartment. (I'm also listening to the Putamayo Paris CD, there's a guy in a beret walking by, and my chair is facing the boulangerie across the street.  No joke. It's almost a frenchness overload.) Anyway, there are street cafés everywhere, so if you pass one and realize you could really go for a café au lait and croissant right now,  relax and keep walking - there's most likely a better one 50 meters down the street. The parisian café is not your blackberry-wielding, laptop-using, yuppie stressfest; in fact I'm pretty sure my computer is screaming "American!" At any time of the day, people fill the tables to smoke a cig, drink a cup, and shoot the breeze. The chairs all face the street for optimal see-and-be-seen opportunities. You can order great food as well, of which I keep getting reminded whenever I steal a glance at the poulet-frites of the woman next to me. I'll get that next time.

Then you have restaurants, bistros, brasseries, sandwich joints, pizzerias, crêperies, bars, pubs, etc. Once I understand the distinguishing factors of all those choices, I'll elaborate. But for now I'll say that when you dine out for dinner, you go around 7pm if you're weird, 8 if you're kind of weird, 9 if you're normal, and 10 if you're cool.

Food at home. Breakfast is tiny - a coffee and piece of bread if you're lucky. Don't expect a croissant hot out of the oven unless you're willing to fetch it yourself from the boulangerie. Approximately 90% of the cereal options at the grocery store include chocolate. If you're the type of person who would consider it disgusting to single-handedly finish off a box of granola aux 3 chocolats in one day, probably don't buy that cereal... or should I say drug. (Same goes for jars of Nutella.) As for lunch, I'm not sure what most French families do since my host mom works during the day. Eat out, I guess. I've been making myself cheese and tomato sandwiches to be fiscally responsible :) Dinner is lengthy, and if you're in a household that truly appreciates the cuisine, it includes several courses. My host mother is mid-range - she doesn't slap stale bread and cold stew in front of us, but usually makes a dinner with one or two dishes plus a cheese or dessert course. For example, one night we had an egg and potato dish served with marinated tomatoes and cucumbers, and a couple of cheese choices, french bread, and juicy grapes for dessert. Luckily I haven't had cow brains or escargot shoved down my throat, and call me unadventurous, but I'm going to keep it that way.

Wow, this talk is getting me hungry. Might have to go snack on that chocolate granola if I want to last until dinnertime...

Une soirée sur la Seine... et des promenades sur ses rives

So one of the perks of being in an American program in Paris is you get signed up for things you wouldn't normally do. In this case, it was dinner on a Bateau-mouche on the Seine. Wednesday evening, nearly all the students in the IES program met at Saint Michel to board the boat. Comfortable leather chairs provided views out the fishbowl walls. We were served salmon, rice, and bread, but no wine (?!?!). Um this is Paris, folks! Anyway, it got dark while we were eating our meal and drinking our non-alcoholic beverages, so when the boat approached the Eiffel Tower, some of us went on the roof of the boat to fully appreciate the monument sparkling and magnificent. Sometimes, the touristy thing is just the thing to do.

Also, I've really been enjoying strolling around with my camera. Everywhere I look, I see an ideal subject. On the banks of the Seine in particular there is an endless supply of interesting people. I've uploaded what I have so far on photobucket, so here's the link: http://s1010.photobucket.com/albums/af228/themc123/Ville%20Lumiere/

More soon, so don't forget me :)

Bisous

La danse, c'est une langue universelle

I miss the salseros and salseras of St. Louis! But since I can't have them for a few months... Yesterday, I found paradise, and its alias is Barrio Latino. The salsa club is a ten-minute walk from my apartment, and if I ever have to miss one of these Sunday afternoon parties, there had better be a great reason, like my plane from Barcelona got lost in the clouds.

Being used to dancing at night, I initially found it strange that the dancing goes from 15h00 - 19h30, but once I stepped in the doors, I discovered that the atmosphere was electric.  The venue is incredible: a large main (hardwood) floor with a bar, DJ stand, and velvet seats; then a grand staircase leading up to three circular levels above. I found myself a spot on the stairs so I could observe for a bit before jumping in. Talented dancers were spinning everywhere I looked. Soon I joined in the fun. I had been a little worried that it would be difficult to break into a new scene if people only danced with those they knew were good, but that was not the case: I was able to enjoy most of the songs with strong leads who threw at me exciting new moves as well as the tried n' true. They were even friendly! So much for snobby Parisians. I didn't know many of the songs - they were different from the usual St. Louis favorites - but the music was lively and varied.

An interesting little cross-cultural incident happened in the ladies' room. I was fixing my hair when a salsera asked me in extremely rapid French if the back of her jeans were dirty. For some reason I couldn't understand her, so she tried, "espagnol?" "Si, un poco." I comprehended her question in Spanish, then automatically answered back in French, "non, pas du tout," without realizing the language switch until a moment later. We all find our ways to communicate when we need to...

By the time the DJ announced the last song I was sweaty and blissfully tired, and didn't feel as if my confidence had gotten crushed on the dance floor. So... success? Oui. Bring it on, Paris.

Je suis ici!

Okaaaay, I'll make another entry...

The long commute across the Atlantic was not too horrible, despite some stressful minutes of major turbulence. Luckily I wasn't stuck next to any wailing babies or extremely large arms oozing over my armrest, and managed a few hours of sleep. Charles de Gaulle airport didn't throw me too many curves, either. Not sure how I feel about the fact that my first purchase was un thé at the McDonalds at Gate 2A, but I needed change for the phone...


By some miracle, I got in touch with my mère d'accueil to let her know I'd arrived AND found the proper shuttle. After an hour + of traffic that alternated between insane swerving and utter stand-still, the friendly driver dumped me on the doorstep of the apartment that will house me for the next three months. 


My host mom is a divorced mother of four kids who have grown up and moved out. She's been very sweet so far, and although she doesn't seem to know a word of English, we've been able to communicate fairly well. Pretty much whenever she's home, she's watching the French TV show, "N'oubliez pas les paroles," their equivalent of "Don't Forget the Lyrics." Another IES student is living in the room beside mine. Nicole is from Georgia/New York/DC, and speaks French very well. She's awesome, and it's been great having someone who shares my enthusiasm for this experience! 


I still haven't gotten over how lucky I am to have gotten this living situation: a three bedroom apartment in the 11th arrondissement, between Bastille and Voltaire metro stops. My street is fairly quiet, but just a couple blocks away, boulangeries, cafés, and bars line the lively streets. Several latin dance clubs nearby, which I can't wait to try. A little park up the street. All with the feel of "real Paris." It is better than I hoped for.  


As for the school part, so far we have had two days of orientation which provided 80 jet-lagged students with the exciting challenge of saying no to nodding off. Hopefully after that I'll know not to leave my purse/passport/priceless heirlooms on the public bench while I rush about trying to catch that perfect shot of la Tour Eiffel. But don't get me wrong, there was some useful information, and it seems as if the people in charge are very nice and helpful, if a tad long-winded. We start intensive language classes this Monday, then regular courses on the 22nd. I'm actually pretty excited to be a real student in Paris...


I am officially in love with this place. Today was absolutely beautiful. ~75 degrees, sunny, Saturday.  Nicole and I strolled along rue de Rivoli to the Ile Saint-Louis area, admiring the gorgeous people, clothes, and architecture. Dined outside at an Italian restaurant at St. Michel, then grabbed some gelato in the Latin Quarter. Don't even get me started on the food here... that will require its own post one of these days.


Bed time. Bonne nuit. Bisous!

MC

Cinq Jours

I'm not much of a blogger - in fact, this is my first attempt - but I thought it would be selfish of me not to share some of my European experiences. Not everyone gets to study abroad in Paris for three months. So here goes....

I figure I might as well spell my name the French way while I'm there, so in five days Mary Clare will be morphing into Marie Claire. Fully embracing the fact that I share my name with a magazine, and sparing myself the appalled looks I will get if I let it slip that I typically use the Irish version.

In five days I'll be boarding American Airlines flight 1797, provided my passport isn't expired and I don't have too many suspicious items hidden in my suitcase. Short layover in Dallas/Fort Worth, then.... PARIS!!

So I should probably get back to packing.

Bisous