Au Revoir, Paris!

I’ve packed everything into my suitcase(s), set my alarm for 6:00 AM and crawled under my covers for the last time in Paris. Unless I get up for some water, then I’ll get to crawl under my covers in Paris one more time. It’s hard to believe it’s over. In the last week or so, I’ve taken my finals and done a lot of touristy things. I took a boat ride on the Seine, a tour of Notre Dame, rode roller coasters at EuroDisneyland, ate a picnic dinner at Montmartre and went to the top of the Eiffel Tower. The last couple of days I spent some time wandering around my favorite neighborhoods, just trying to soak it all in before I leave. I know this city now, and it’s a great feeling. I don’t have to look at the Metro map every time I go somewhere. I still get lost on the streets, but I don’t pull out a map every time. I have favorite spots to sit and read, and I know where to get the most delicious chocolate macaroons. I have lived here. But, it’s over now. The next time I come to Paris it will have changed. I will never know it like I do now. I will never have an opportunity like this one again. It has been such a great experience. I’ve learned a lot about the language and the culture, and as cheesy as it sounds, about myself too. I’m a little bit more confident, not so easily intimidated by uncomfortable situations. My entire life was an uncomfortable situation for three months. I can handle it. I can even enjoy it. I want to go outside my comfort zone more often. I want to be more intentional about it. I want to live in different cities, travel more and learn more about the world. Most importantly, through this experience God has shown me yet another reason to put all my trust in Him and only Him. He completely provided for me, as always. He’s patient, loving and faithful even when I’m not. He is all I need.

I meet my wonderful mother at the airport at 7:30 tomorrow morning, and at noon our plane leaves for Venice, Italy! We will be in Italy for two weeks, and then… HOME! I will continue to post pictures. It will probably take me until August to get them all up…

Here’s the link for the photos: http://picasaweb.google.com/petitechou87

Thank you for your interest, thoughts and prayers. I’ve enjoyed writing this, and hopefully you’ve enjoyed reading it. I might write a little in Italy, but our internet access won’t be as consistent. Also, I think half of my readership will be there with me.

Versailles

Versailles, home to Louis XIV, XV and XVI, is a humongous chateau just outside of Paris. It represents the wealth and importance of the French monarchy (and thus France) in earlier times. It also represents the greed and oppression of the monarchy and the reason for the French Revolution. The French are definitely proud of their new political system, but they are also proud of their powerful past.

We went to Versailles on Saturday. From the time we arrived at 9am to the time we left at 5pm, the place was packed. It was overrun with tourists of all nationalities and speaking all languages. There were times inside the palace where moving in any direction was rendered impossible by the masses crowding around you. If I’m going to be honest, I really wasn’t all that interested in the royal quarters. I had seen them once before, and there is only so much grandeur one can endure in a day, or a lifetime. The Hall of Mirrors was beautiful, but not exactly what I had imagined.

The part of Versailles I enjoyed the most was the gardens. There were a gazillion huge fountains set to music, kind of like the Bellagio in Las Vegas, but minus the coordinating lights and prostitutes standing nearby. The topiary, flowers and trees were all wonderful to look at. We spent several hours walking around the grounds, taking it all in and trying to imagine what it would be like without all the people.

We also saw the chateau that Louis XVI built for Marie Antoinette. It is called the Petit Trainon. The inside was being renovated, so it was closed. But, the gardens made up for it. At the time of Marie Antoinette, the pastoral lifestyle was considered very romantic. According to our professor, the popular novels of the time were 3,000 page accounts on the love lives of shepherds. So, Marie Antoinette had an English style rose garden and a field full of sheep and horses.

We had a lot of time left after seeing everything, so we decided to sit in the grass and read. But, of course, it started to rain. We moved our reading and talking to an indoor café. A couple of us shared some really excellent tiramisu and delicious chocolate lava cake. After Versailles, I ate TexMex with Kelly. You really have no idea how good greasy Mexican food or an amazing hamburger can make you feel when you’re just the slightest bit homesick. When you’re living in a foreign country, a little (or a lot) of a certain, hard to find type of food can turn that feeling into wonderful nostalgia. I bet Marie Antoinette requested her mother’s meatloaf (or whatever the queen of Austria would make for dinner) during some of the more lonely days of her life at Versailles.

Brussels

Please excuse my absence, but I've been out doing things that are worthy of blogging about.

The weekend before last, I went to Belgium with my DePaul group. I visited Belgium briefly four years ago, and I was not impressed with Brussels. So, I was not too excited about returning again. Now, I’m not going to pretend that I wouldn’t rather have gone to Morocco, but my opinion of Brussels definitely improved. I think a lot of it had to do with the perspective I have from living in Paris. It was a nice change of scenery, and of people. I love the Parisians, don’t get me wrong. But, sometimes feeling like such an outsider can be so exhausting. I realize that I’m not Belgian and therefore am an outsider in Brussels as well. But, in Paris, I might as well be from Mars. In Brussels, I was welcomed as an American tourist, come to stimulate the economy and spend my money. And that is, of course, what I did.

We arrived on Friday night, and ate dinner as a group at the hotel. Afterwards, a big group of us went to a bar in the “trendy” part of the city. The bar was called “Delirium” because it is the home of a type of Belgian beer by the same name. They had over 2004 different types of beer. I tried the Delirium Nocturnum. It was a dark beer (there’s probably a more intelligent sounding name for “dark”… but I’m not pretending to be a beer connoisseur). I liked it, but I couldn’t finish it all. So, I drank about half, gave the rest to my friend. Flavored beer is also really big in Europe, and it’s more my speed. I have seen raspberry, strawberry, passion fruit, cherry and even coconut and chocolate flavors of beer.

The next two days we toured Brussels. There was definitely more to see than I thought. Brussels has some great Art Nouveau style architecture. There is a square in the center of the city that is a nice hodge-podge of different styles of architecture. The most important thing about Brussels is that it is the capital of Europe. There are major offices of the European Union stationed there, and sometime in the next 10 years the legislative body of the EU will most likely move there as well. Belgium itself still has a king. He apparently rides motorcycles and has mistresses, but the people love him. Belgium has a history full of what can best be described as nation-wide inside jokes. One of the prides of Brussels is a statue called Mannequin Pis. Basically, it’s a little boy peeing and they dress him up for different holidays. When we saw him, he was dressed up in an orange suit for the Gay Pride Parade and he was peeing beer. They also have random statues around the city representing characters from a play that is a time-honored tradition in Belgium. Basically, it’s a spoof on Romeo and Juliet, but the difference between the two families is their favorite soccer team. Only adding to the random hilarity that is Brussels, is the way they go about making city improvements. Basically, they decide they want to build something and then go to other countries and say they will name the square, statue, museum after whoever pays for it. Spain usually takes them up on this offer.

One side of the square with random archtiecture

Another sort of funny feature of Brussels is the comic book museum. The French love their comic books (Band Desinee in French). You are just as likely to see a 30 year old woman reading a comic book on the Metro as you are to see a 12 year old boy. The best comic books come from Belgium. There was a great exhibit on the making of comic books. They compared the creative process to the creative process of making a film. I couldn’t help but think what a fun job that would be. It’s times like this that I really wish I was more creative. Overall, the museum was a lot of fun. It probably would have been even better if I had grown up with the characters displayed. There was, however, a big Smurf exhibit. The only Belgian comic that I really know is Tintin. I read a Tintin book in French class. The Tintin books are a series of historical adventures taking place in different countries across the world. They feature a boy, his dog and his grumpy sidekick. Because in the Francophone world comic books aren’t just for kids, these books are written for the enjoyment of adults as well.

Being silly at the comic book museum

In between seeing all of these historical or educational sights, I ate. I ate a lot. I ate mussels, because Brussels is known for their mussels. I’m not exactly sure why. It’s not by the ocean. The only reason I can think of is because mussels rhymes with Brussels. I also ate they typical Belgian waffles and chocolate. So much chocolate.

I will admit it, I underestimated Brussels. But when we left, I was ready to get back to Paris. Some of my friends said that they would love to live in Brussels. Brussels definitely has its selling points, but I just don’t think I could call a city with a statue of a little boy peeing beer home.

Un, Deux, Troyes et Dijon

For more pictures click here: http://picasaweb.google.com/petitechou87

Two weekends ago, I went to Troyes and Dijon with some of my DePaul friends. We took the high speed French train, called the TGV, and had a great time in these two little cities. We left Paris at 7am Friday. We arrived in Troyes at about 8:30am. Nothing opens anywhere in France until about 10am, so we had plenty of time to walk around and get a feel of the city.In Troyes we walked, ate, looked at churches, ate, shopped and ate. We went to outlet malls, which were very similar to their America counterparts. The prices were a little better than what you’d see in Paris, but not much. After considering the value of the dollar, none of us were really compelled to buy anything. I was surprised at the popularity of American brands. Carhartt is apparently very trendy “street-style”. Next time I put on my dad’s old Carhartt jacket to scoop horse poop in the winter, I will think of young hipsters all over France. We finished the malls in record time for a group of nine females. After we were sure we’d seen all Troyes had to offer, we decided to take an earlier train to Dijon.

The train ride to Dijon was so much fun! Before boarding, we went to the Monoprix (sort of like a Super Target with everything from clothes to food) and bought food for a picnic lunch. We decided to wait and eat on the train. We were finally all awake, and the more we ate the more we laughed. The French tend to be very quiet on trains, except for the random people who listen to music using their cell phones and no headphones. I don’t understand, but they all seem to like American rap. Anyways, needless to say we were not very popular with the elderly lady sitting in front of us.

By the time we arrived in Dijon we were hungry again. We explored the city a little and looked for a place to eat. Dijon is larger than Troyes and is home to a university. It seemed like the only people over 40 in the city were tourists. After eating we headed to our hotel. Hilarious. Let me preface this by saying that it was safe and clean. But, it was hilarious. It was called Hotel Bonsai, and we had a reservation. When we got to Dijon we called and asked for directions. We were told which bus to take, to get off at the last stop and ask the bus driver how to get to the hotel. After a 15 minute drive away from the city center, the bus stopped in the parking lot of a shopping center. The driver told us to cross the highway and we would be able to see the hotel. After crossing approximately 5 superstore size parking lots and walking through a small field, we reached the highway. We didn’t see a stoplight, so we figured we have to cross it “Frogger” style. Really, there wasn’t very much traffic. But, we couldn’t see the hotel sign. A couple of us went in different directions to try and see the hotel sign before we crossed the highway. One girl saw a blue sign in the distance and said she was fairly certain that was it. Thank goodness she was right. By this time in the day, I thought my feet were going to fall off from all the walking. As I said before, the hotel was safe and the rooms were clean. I won't try to describe it anymore than to say that I felt like I was at a slumber party at the Brady Bunch house. A picture is worth a thousand words….

The next day we explored Dijon some more. We bought mustard. We tried to rent bikes, but unfortunately they didn’t have nine left in the entire city. And, we went to a winery. Another really nice bus driver dropped us off at the very end of his route. We walked through the vines to reach the “cave” or wine cellar. We got a guided tour, a glass with the name of the winery on it and a wine tasting for 9 Euro. It was fun, but not overly exciting. The tour was half in French and half in English, so I understood approximately 1/4^th of what was said. Our tour guide was young and cute, which some how made the process of making wine so much more interesting to all of us girls. He was getting a degree in wine business (only in France) at the local university.

After we’d seen enough grape vines, we got back on the bus. We sat in the park and ate Greek sandwiches for dinner, and one of my friends received a marriage proposal. By then it was time to leave. My feet were blistered, but my stomach was full and I was ready to return to Paris.

No School Means Museums

Thursday was the anniversary of Armistice Day; and thus, a government holiday here in France. I didn’t have school, so I slept late (of course) and then saw some museum exhibits with my friends .

The first was the Fragonard Perfume Museum. I’m not sure it really qualifies as museum. They had a small exhibit of old perfume bottles, along with some information (in French) about the history of perfume. The gift shop was larger than the museum, but that’s not always a bad thing.

Next we visited Galleries Lafayette and Le Printemps, two very famous department stores. Galleries Lafayette holds the title of “Largest Department Store in Europe”. They were both beautiful and held beautiful (read: expensive) things, that I have about as much chance of owning as anything in an actual museum.

After this, we went to the Grand Palais on the Champs-Elysees. The Grand Palais was built as an exhibition hall for the 1900s World’s Fair. It still holds special exhibitions today. First, we went to the Marie Antoinette exhibit. Portraits of Marie Antoinette and her family were on display along with some of her furniture from Versailles. The most interesting part was the final room concerning the last days of her life. There were some pieces of furniture from her prison apartments. These were such a contrast to what she had a t Versailles. Also, there were some really hilarious political cartoons created by her contemporaries. They gave you a sense of really how much she was hated. On the wall opposite the disparaging political cartoons, was a wall of quotes from Marie Antoinette and her family. This provided an interesting contrast, and a much more human view. This was all in French, so I definitely didn’t understand it all. Overall, I appreciated the exhibit for providing an insight into the various ways of looking at this compelling historical figure. Plus, the furniture from the Versailles days was kick-ass.

Next, we went to another exhibit at the Grand Palais. This one was an installation piece from the American artist Richard Serra. The intention of this piece was to involve both the viewer and the environment in the art. The piece featured five stone walls, in a line, leaning at different angles, placed in the Grand Palais exhibition hall. If you were standing at one end of the exhibition hall, you could only see two or three of the walls, but as you walled towards the other end of the hall the other walls were revealed. If you were standing up close to the wall, you wouldn’t know that it was tilting, you could only see it by backing up. Also, the structure of the building and the sun, created some pretty amazing shadows. I definitely enjoyed seeing this, but I still haven’t decided if I think the idea behind it is a bunch of bull shit. But, I am an English Major. Good bull shit has a very dear place in my heart.

Things I Wish I Would Have Taken Photos Of

Sometimes I really regret leaving my camera at home.....

1. The little black, lop-eared rabbit hopping loose on a cobblestone street near the Bastille. You don't see free roaming rabbits everyday. Unless you lived at my house a couple of years ago.
   
2. The profiterol I shared with friends at the Café on Boulevard Saint-Germain. A small scoop of vanilla ice cream on top of a fluffy, flaky, donut-like pastry all covered in hot fudge sauce. Delicious.
3. All of the American diner style restaurants I’ve seen. There is “Breakfast in America”, “Route 66 Café” and “American Dream”. Not to mention the MacDonald’s knock off “Quick”.
4. Marie Antoinette’s writing desk, covered in mother of pearl.
5. The crazy movie theater I went to tonight. It wasn’t air conditioned, the screen was smaller than normal theaters, there was no snack bar, the chairs were fake velvet and this disgusting shade of mustard yellow, but the movie was great.
6. All of the different types of toilettes I've seen since I've been here. This entire continent can agree on one currency, but somehow a continuity of the form of toilettes still seems to evade them.

Le Pompidou et Le Pain

Today is the first Sunday of the month, and that means free museum day in Paris. I went to the Musée National d’Art Moderne at Centre Pompidou with some friends. The modern art starts before you even enter the building. The architecture of the building is very modern and very controversial. Some people view this building as a way of keeping Paris the center of avant-garde, art and innovation as it was throughout history. Others see it as a blemish of a building in a city full of timeless architecture. I’m not sure how I feel about it.

All of the load-bearing elements of the building are located on the outside. This allows for more open space on the inside. I can imagine that this comes in handy when arranging some of the more outrageous installation pieces. There is a glass tube running along the outside of the building that contains the escalator. From the outside it looks like a caterpillar climbing a wire fence. While I don’t particularly prefer the look of the external architecture, the view from the inside can’t be beat. To begin, the ride up the escalators is far from mundane. Once you’re really inside, there are tons of windows. I went from walking through rooms of modern art sculptures to looking out a window and seeing Sacre Coeur. Next, I moved to a gallery of Matisse and when I glanced out a window I saw the Eiffel Tower.

As for the art, I found it all interesting. But, that isn’t always a good thing. Some of it I really liked. Some of it I didn’t understand. Some of it I understood and disliked it as a result. My favorites were the modern art pieces of the early to mid 20^th century. There was tons of great Matisse stuff. They had some pieces by Picasso and Dali, although they each have their own museum in Paris. There were some Jackson Pollocks and Piet Mondrians as well. It was fun to actually recognize some of the works and remember learning about them in art class or seeing pictures of them in a book. It is a totally different experience to actually see the original piece of art as opposed to looking at a photograph of it in a book.

After the Pompidou, we were starving. Modern art can make a girl hungry. We walked around, got lost, figured out where we were and ended up at this adorable restaurant called “Le Pain Quotidien” which translates to “The Daily Bread”. We ate inside, next to an opened window that looked out onto the street. We sat in the middle of a large table. On either side of us was a group of young, trendy Parisians. We felt really out of place. There were several waiters buzzing around, and they each brought us something. Our favorite was a little guy who was incredibly helpful, but didn’t understand anything we said. We would speak in French to him, and he would respond in English (this happens a lot). He tried to make jokes with us, but the Franglais left everyone confused. One time he asked me, in English, “What color are you?” I just giggled, and looked nervously at my friends for help (I do this on a regular basis in Paris). We later decided the he must have meant “What color jam do you want?”. But that still doesn’t make a whole lot of sense. I ate a “tartine” which is like an open faced sandwich. It was delicious and very French. It was on rye bread, with artichoke spread, ham, cucumber and a dry cheese. After we finished our sandwiches, we decided we needed to try the bread. So, we ordered a large bread basket to share. The spreads were delicious. I might go back and buy some jam to bring home with me. It was by far the best preserves I’ve ever eaten. I think it was called 4 red fruits, I’m assuming it had strawberries, cherries, raspberries and…. I don’t know. Also, they had praline, hazelnut, chocolate (which was basically like fudge in a jar), and white chocolate spreads. There was apricot jam as well. We spent almost two hours there, and after it was all over I felt very French and very full.

We decided to walk off our lunch, and one of the first places we passed was the oldest patisserie in Paris. It has been around since Louis XIV. Also, this patisserie made all of the deserts for Sofia Coppola’s “Marie Antoinette”. They looked delicious, but I decided that I would just have to come back another day. We kept walking. We walked along the Seine. It was a beautiful day, so the entire city was out on bicycles and roller blades. I saw two “crashes” just in the short time I was walking. We passed some of the oldest bridges in Paris. I saw an old man fishing, and a little dog that wouldn't move out of the shade of the bridge despite the coaxing of his frustrated owner. Eventually, I got on the Metro, came home and fell asleep.

In other news:

I went to Troyes and Dijon this weekend. I’ll write more about it later this week. The pictures are already posted on my Picasa site http://picasaweb.google.com/petitechou87. My Swiss-German “sister” left, and I have a new “brother” who is also Swiss. His name is incredibly Italian, but I think his first language is German and he has red hair… but I guess that’s Switzerland for you. He seems nice, but I don’t think we’ll hang out as much as Michaela and I did. Tomorrow I start a new month of classes which means I have a new teacher. I guess tomorrow will either confirm or put to rest any worries I may have about that situation.

Photos and Fame

I made a web album for all of my pictures. They aren't all uploaded yet, but I'll keep working on it. I haven't really edited any of these... and there are some I should probably just delete. I know some of them are really terrible. You have my permission to disobey your mother and make fun of me behind my back. Please don't tell me what you honestly think, because that's just mean.

Here's the link:

http://picasaweb.google.com/petitechou87

Also, if you want to e-mail me : petitechou87@gmail.com


And in other news.....

My (almost) encounters with (almost) famous people: I found out today that Ron Howard's wife was in one of my friend's French class at the Alliance Francaise! Apparently she's some sort of writer and lives an enviable life. I love Ron Howard. Just the other week I watched an episode of Happy Days (even though I understood none of it) because I just love him (and the Fonz of course). We all know that Opie was basically the best part of The Andy Griffith Show. Now Ron Howard is a great director. Also, in this same class is an 18 year old male model who lived with Kirsten Dunst for a while. I'm not so sure I believe it, but he has a picture of them together. Another friend saw Miss Jay from America's Next Top Model at a Cafe. And, last but not least, Lucy Liu took classes at Alliance a while back. So, basically my school is full of (almost) famous people, and I've met none of them. But, I know people who have!

Paris When It Drizzles

Sorry for my absence the past week or so… but rain, a Jane Austen novel and a slight cold have recently kept me from doing much worth reporting anyways.

It is called study abroad, so here are some things I learned this past week:

1. Learning a new language is difficult. I already knew this one. But, I was reminded of it this week. I think my French is getting worse. I’m still doing fine in class, but I keep forgetting important words when I attempt to have conversations. I try to remind myself that this also happens to me quite frequently when speaking English.

2. Never look to a French person for encouragement. At dinner the other night, my French host mom asked me how my studies were going. I realize that I probably should have just said “bien, merci”. But, language barrier or not, I’ve never been one to pass up an opportunity to over-share. So, I told her that I thought my speaking skills were actually decreasing. As you can imagine, it was not easy for me to even get this out. I expected at the most to be told that I was doing just fine, or I thought maybe she would sympathize with me. I would have been content with a mere “That sucks. Would you like some more chocolate?”. Instead, I was told that Americans have the worst accent for speaking French and no matter how hard I tried I would always be plagued by the awful sounds of my native language. Okay, she didn’t say it exactly like that…. But you get the idea.

3. A college reading level in English translates to a 4^th grade reading level in French. Still feeling discouraged about my language skills, I decided to purchase a French book to help me with my vocabulary and comprehension. After an extended search in Gibert Jeune (Paris’s equivalent of Barnes and Noble, but minus the Starbucks and comfy couches), pictured is the one I chose. Le Petit Nicolas, it’s for ages 9 and up… I often feel like a fourth grader here, so I thought it would be appropriate. After I bought it, I sat on a park bench in Jardin de Plants and started reading. I have to look up at least one word on each page. But as far as I can tell, it is quite humorous.

4. The language of shopping is universal. On Sunday (an incredibly drizzly day), I went to one of the biggest street markets in Paris with my adorable German “sister” Michelah. You could find just about everything imaginable in this market. There were vendors selling touristy souvenirs, shoes, purses, clothes, perfume, jewelry, cell phones, electronics, antiques, scarves and that is not all. Some of the stuff was junky, some was really nice. Some of it was very cheap and some was way overpriced. But, half the fun is finding the best deal. The only thing I bought was a leather bag. Michaela bought one too, and we successfully “haggled” down the price. When I told my French host mom about it, she said we were only successful because I look like I could be French. But, then I pointed out that the vender surely must have known that I wasn't thanks to my terrible American accent.

I hope the drizzly days of early spring in Paris are over. Tomorrow is supposed to be a beautiful day, and I plan on enjoying it thoroughly. Who knows, maybe my language skills will improve along with the weather.

It Takes All Kinds

This weekend was my first experience in a French gas station. We stopped at a large truck stop on our trip back to the city from the Loire valley. We didn’t stop for gas though. My limited understanding of French left me with a mere impression that this was a smoke break for our grouchy driver. I looked at it as an opportune time to use the bathroom.

After using the facilities, I decided to have a look around the convenience store. Of course, I immediately decided to survey the food offerings. There were all kinds of candy, sandwiches, chips, cheese and drinks. I haven’t really eaten any chips since being here and something salty sounded delicious. Well, I’ve heard that Europeans are overwhelmed by the ridiculous variety of cereals found in American grocery stores, but our cereal has nothing on this gas stations chip selection. There were all brands and all types. Some were unimaginably disgusting. Really, do smoked salmon and mustard Lays sound appetizing to anyone? There were other really bizarre meat combinations too. There was the chip version of the staple Parisian sandwich, Jambon et fromage. That’s right, ham and cheese chips. Weird. Although, maybe all you college students who survive on “chicken flavored” Ramen, think turkey flavored chips would be delicious. But frankly, I was surprised that a people like the French who pride themselves on their excellent gastronomy would offer such repulsiveness. I settled on “Chips Anciennes”. Which translates literally to “Old Chips”. Despite the weird name, they were kettle-cooked and delicious.

These strange offerings of chips and the fact that French people actually eat them got me thinking about the marketing techniques used for food. It is logical that different flavors and even names for products appeal to people of different cultures. In St. Louis, I saw a brand of chips named “Rap Snacks”. I suppose it’s logical. I mean, could you really expect Nelly and President Sarkozy to eat the same kind of chips?

Les Chateaux

This weekend I visited the Loire valley with my DePaul group. The Loire valley is about three hours outside of Paris. It is famous for its chateaux, or castles. We saw six chateaux during our two days in the Loire. You might think if you’ve seen one chateau then you’ve seen all six, but you’d be wrong. However, that doesn’t make going to six chateaux in two (extremly rainy) days any more enjoyable. I always feel guilty when I’m not incredibly enamored with these sight-seeing type things. I did find them interesting, and I did have fun. But, in all honesty, two or three would have been plenty. The chateaux were quite different in exterior architecture. The first one we went to had sections that were built in three different centuries. The history behind the chateaux is quite interesting as well. Francois I, Catherine and Marie de Medicis, Henri II, Henri III, Louis XII and Louis XIII either lived at, spent the night at, built part of, or had a never used room in basically each chateau. But keeping all of these kings straight is impossible. One of them used a fire eating salamander as his icon, another used a type of mink as his identifying symbol. Henri II used two Hs connected with two Ds. This was either in reference to the fact that he was Henri Deux or a reference to his best loved mistress. Some of the chateaux had practically no original interiors. These were restored beautifully, and had beautiful “fake” furniture. But when I found out, I couldn’t help but feel a little deceived.

My favorite chateau was Chenonceau. It is a beautiful castle built across the river Cher. It looks as though it is floating on top of the water. You can see the reflection of the castle in the water. The inside was beautiful and the majority of the interior was original. We were allowed to roam free in this chateau. Instead of being lead by a charming guide with a terribly difficult to understand accent, we listened to an audio tour. I chose the children’s version and it was as entertaining as it was informative. The gardens of this chateau were also incredibly beautiful. However, it was raining the entire time we were there so enjoying them was difficult. I did sort of feel like I was in a Jane Austen novel, strolling around the grounds with my umbrella. But, the rain kept us from exploring the hedge maze. I almost got to stay at Chenoceau forever, because I was told the incorrect meeting place. However, deductive reasoning helped me figure out quite quickly that something wasn’t right. I made sure to thank God for my cell phone.

My second favorite chateau was called Cheverny. It’s not as beautiful as Chenoceau, but I love the history behind it. It is the home that inspired the mansion in the Tintin books. Tintin is a very famous French comic book. I’ve read it in my French class, and I love it. You can get them in English too… I highly recommend it. They are historical detective type stories. Fun for all ages. Or you could wait for the movie version... apparently Spielberg is doing one. There was an exhibit on Tintin at Chenoceau, but we didn’t get to see it. Also, I found it interesting and also a little weird that people still live in Cheverny. Their quarters were (obviously) not open to tour. Although, that may have been more interesting than what we saw. But, they did have pictures of themselves throughout the castle. Creepy. Cheverny is also used today for its hunting grounds. There are over 75 hunting dogs living on the property. Apparently their daily feeding is something to be seen. We didn’t see it.

We also visited Leonardo DaVinci’s final home. It was packed with tourists. There really wasn’t anything of DaVinci’s in the house. If I’m going to be honest, I must admit that I think DaVinci is overly commercialized. If he knew that tourists were paying 15 dollars to traipse through his home, he’d probably roll over in his grave, which sadly also had a line of tourists in front of it.

Les Photos

Unfortunately because of rain and the forbiding of flash I don't have very many good pictures... but here's a few.

This is Chenonceau, my favorite. I didn't take any pictures of the outside because of the torrential downpour, so I swiped this one from the internet.

This is Cheverny. From the left: Milou, Captain Haddock and Tintin.
When Herge (the author) saw Cheverny there were trees covering part of the chateau, so he only drew what he could see at the time. The parts that are "transparent" are the parts not included in the mansion in the books.

Check out the awesome beams in the ceiling. They were painted beautifully in almost all the chateaux.


This porcupine was the symbol of Louis XII. Before the majority of the population was literate, illustrations were used to educate the masses.

On the left you see a fire-eating salamander. This symbol was adopted by Francois I. On the right is the hermine, which I believe is a type of mink. I cannot remeber which king had this as his symbol, but I bet he had a lot of nice coats.

Horses! Just because I saw them, and I love them!

La Nuit á Paris!

Saturday night was my first experience at a French club (“discotheque” if you’re French, or if you were cool in the 70s). It was….interesting. Definitely fun. But, also interesting. I left the house feeling sort of weird about the whole situation. I tripped going out the door of my building. Then, three people asked me for directions, and I had to say “je ne sais pas”. One of them wasn’t too happy about it. There was a concert going on at the Palais de Omnisport near my house and there was a massive amount of people. I considered turning around and going home, but I didn’t feel like I really could without it being incredibly awkward.

Host families are an interesting thing…. I feel like I’m being “observed”, almost judged, by people that are neither my peers nor my family. If the people I lived with were my age or my parents, I probably would have just turned around and returned home. But, I didn’t want them to think something was drastically wrong or to try to explain that I was simply a little uncomfortable. And, I especially didn’t want them to think I was a weird, indecisive American. So, I continued on.

When I got there, my friends had already gone inside. The club was directly under a bridge on the Seine, right off the Champs-Elysees. There were windows in the club where you could glance out and see the water. There were arches inside that really made you feel like you were under a bridge. When I walked up to the door of the club, I was asked (in French of course) “Are you on the list?”. Thank goodness my friends told me to expect this, because otherwise I would have had no clue what they were asking me. I shook my head. Then after getting this odd “let me see if you are attractive enough to enter” look that I always thought (hoped) was an urban myth, I was told to go ahead. The woman’s tone of voice was so condescending, like she had the most powerful job in the world and was doing me such an amazing favor. Weird.

I walked in and the club was almost empty. I saw my friends immediately. They all had the exact same experience at the door. We knew we were there early, and there were only about 10 other people in this huge place. But, there is no cover charge or line before 12. When we left the line to enter was incredibly long. A little after midnight the club was full of young, “hip” people. The DJ started and we had a lot of fun dancing! The music was definitely a little different from the places I’ve been in the States. Most of the music was in English, but some songs were in French. I think you call the songs “mashups”, where a bunch of different songs are put together. The songs were a mix between rock, pop and techno. At about 12:30 the DJ changed. The new “artist” was named Jacuzzi… The performance was hilarious. I guess she was a singer… Overall, it was just ridiculous. She wore a superhero-esque costume at the beginning. But… my favorite part was when she yelled “Bonsoir Paris!” at the beginning of her performance. We were having fun, but we left anyways around 1am. The Metro stops running close to 2. In Chicago the El runs all night… so we’re not used to this lack of transportation after a certain hour. Taxis are very hard to find, not to mention expensive. In order to hire a cab, you have to go to a special “taxi stand”. Apparently, sticking your arm out on the side of the road doesn’t translate into French.

Other updates: I ate foie gras. It snowed here a little on Sunday night, and my apartment is freezing! Next week is supposed to be much warmer. I've spent upwards of 8 hours in the Louvre, and we go to the Musee D'Orsay on Friday. There are new students in my French class, and we now have 12 different nationalities. I love my new German "sister"! Today, I went to the Champs Elysees for the first time during the day. This weekend I'm going to the Loire valley!

According to a recent article in the Chicago Tribune: 32 percent of French people are now pro-American, up from 24 percent in 2007. (Special thanks to fact finder and friend Sofie Strohmeier for this wonderful statistic!)



I'm sure by the time I leave at least 45% of the French will be pro-American!


At dinner with my host family we often talk about cultural differences. Last night at dinner Claude told me I looked like a French girl, but ate like an American. I'm taking it as a compliment. I think he was actually referring to the fact that I eat my vegetables at the same time as my meat, not all of one and then the next.... apparently they don't do that here. But, we've also discussed different customs concerning manners, showering and electricity. The French definitely have certain conceptions about Americans. I'm doing my best to try and show them there are many types of Americans, just like there are many types of French. And yes, some Americans are wasteful and rude... but not all of us! Some of us have been members of the Clean Plate Club since we were in high-chairs and always say "please" and "thank you".


I wonder what percentage of Americans are pro-French? Probably about the same- hey, that's something we have in common!

Le Weekend

**New photos are present on the previous post!**

It’s Saturday afternoon in Paris! I love the weekends! I slept late this morning… got up and took as much time as I wanted to eat my delicious breakfast. I’ve been late to class twice now because of the grand French custom of actually eating breakfast. Now, I’m going to go for a run in the park. If you know me at all then you know that when I say “go for a run”, I mean go for a walk while wearing sweatpants. Afterwards, I’m probably going to do a little site-seeing with friends and then… who knows!

Last night I went out with Laurent, my host family’s nephew who I met last Sunday, his brother, and their friend. It was very fun… they all speak English fairly well. But, I spoke a little French too. I was glad to spend time with “real” Parisians. We went to a bar in one of the oldest neighborhoods in Paris, the 5^th Arrondissement (The city is separated into different neighborhoods that go in a spiral from the center of the city where the first parts of Paris were built... I live in the 12th). It’s near the Sorbonne, the famous Parisian university. Also, it was near the Pantheon. In French you don’t pronounce “th” like in English. It’s more of a medium-hard t sound…. if that makes any sense. Anyways, this lack of “thhh” has left me confused several times. When asked, “Have you ever seen the ‘pahn-tee-awhn’?”, I said that I didn’t even know what it was. Well, when we turned the corner and saw it I immediately said “Oh! The Pantheon!” I do know the Pantheon. It’s where a bunch of famous French people are buried... I think Victor Hugo and Marie Curie are buried there, but I could be wrong. I should look it up. It is one of the most important buildings in Paris. I went there on my last trip here, and I plan on going back again. I’ve had similar conversations surrounding the word marathon… Just one of the many joys of barely speaking French in France.

The bar itself was…. random. They had tapas (Spanish style appetizers), which is sort of trendy right now in Chicago. But, at the same time it didn’t have any sort of Spanish atmosphere, it was just really sort of normal, relaxed. There were big groups of young people coming in and out… some American music and some French music… sort of what I expected. So, I had a Belgian beer at a tapas bar in one of the oldest neighborhoods in Paris, right next to the Pantheon.

I also spent three hours in the Louvre yesterday…. It was intense, but very interesting. At this time, I would like to take a moment to thank Mrs. Harris for her Art Fundamentals course at Lutheran High School. The class I’m taking now is more intense, but I’ve got the basics down, and that’s very helpful. Our professor is a professional guide and she is full of interesting information. Did you know that Leonardo painted the Mona Lisa face on several of his other paintings as well… the same half smile, and eyes? Also, the Louvre was originally built as a fortress in the Middle Ages, in fact the word Louvre means fort in old-French. There are still parts of the original building on exhibit in the museum. They have never been moved, just built around. Also, the largest painting in the Louvre is the size of most French apartments… I saw it and I’d have to say that’s accurate!

A couple days ago I went to Sacre Coeur and Montmartre with a couple girls from class. It was fun… but very touristy. There were lots of very aggressive people trying to sell us souvenirs. It was fine, but I probably won’t ever go there alone. We walked all the way to the top, and then we were completely exhausted. We took the funicular down. Montmartre is the highest point in Paris, and Sacre Coeur is a beautiful church at the top. From the top of the hill you can see pretty much all of Paris. The day we went it was a little foggy, I definitely want to go back… and I’ll be sure to bring my camera.

More about my French family—I finally figured out exactly what is going on here. I ended up just asking. Flavien is the son, he lives here sometimes but has his own apartment closer to his job. Claude is the name of Flavien’s father, but he and Madame Serra are not married. And today, a German girl arrived who’s name is Mikalya. She’ll be here for two weeks. I’m sort of glad to have someone to take the focus off of me at dinner! I’ve pretty much used my small arsenal of French vocabulary for as many different conversation topics as possible… I’ll have to learn more before I can say anything new!

The only thing new I’ve eaten recently is duck. We had it as an appetizer at dinner. It was good, but nothing special. We had an omelet for dinner last night. It was delicious… but made me miss my college life in Chicago and eating at Nookies with my lovely friends!

That’s all for now. I’m off to the park. I may put up pictures of the Louvre later! Grosses bises!

All the Earth Shall Sing His Praises!

Psalm 19

1 The heavens declare the glory of God.
The skies display the work of his hands.
2 Day after day they continue to speak;
night after night they make him known.
3 They speak without a sound or word;
their voice is never heard.
4 Yet their message has gone throughout the earth,
and their words to all the world.

Today was such a beautiful day in Paris! It rained a little bit last night, so everything was extra green. When I finished class in the afternoon, I walked out into the street and the sun was so warm and wonderful. After doing some errands and eating lunch, I went to the park near my house. It was still sunny and lovely out. I sat on a bench, in the sunshine, and I read this Psalm. Today in Paris, a city thousands of miles away from my home, I was reminded that God is still with me and still to be praised! His "message has gone throughout the earth". The sun (and all of creation) is a constant reminder throughout the world of His love that satiates all desires and needs. The "words" of the sunlight praise God in all cultures and countries, without any barrier of language. I should do the same!

Les Photos:



This was taken from the foot bridge. The water is the Seine. If you look closely, you can see the Metro on top of the bridge... This is the metro I take to and from school each day! It's elevated in parts and underground in others, like the Red Line (only much cleaner and faster)!


Maison du Jardinage in the Parc. There is a little green house in there, and I think there's a little "learning center" in side and possibly demsontrations at certain times. I should check it out. Lovely, isn't it?


That's my shadow! The thing between the stairs that my shadow is on is actually a fountain... but it won't be turned on until later in April. The green area is part of Parc Bercy.


I don't know exactly what the deal is with this ship... but it's on the Seine. Cool, right?


This is at the top of the stairs leading to the (large) foot bridge that goes over the Seine. The building with the blue roof on the left is the Palais de Omnisports... It's a sports arena where they also have concerts. I see it everyday when I exit the Metro station.


That person in the doorway is part of a group of teenage boys playing with airsoft guns. I didn't notice them until after I'd taken this picture... It was sort of funny, but sort of scary at the same time! It reminded me of the Guffy boys and several close calls... I didn't want to get hit!!


You may be wondering, "Is that a flower volcanoe?"... Well, I'm wondering it too... who knows. Those crazy French.


Check out the French version of a garbage can in the foreground. I told you they don't like to waste... Why would do you need the plastic barrel when you can just have the plastic bag?









Les Jolies Fleurs: