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.