Setting Out

Hello all,

Sorry for the relatively long hiatus between posts. I was originally postponing this post until I got some pictures to put with it. That took a surprisingly long time because, well, I'm a paranoid person convinced that there are hordes of pickpockets waiting to swarm me every time I step within 500 feet of a Metro station. The only person who has accosted me, thus far, was an Asian girl asking me if I believe in God (Answer: I believe in catching my train more), but that didn't mean the criminals weren't out there. Finally, however, I summoned up my courage, locked my camera bag to the inside of my purse (I wish I was kidding) and now have photographic evidence that I am finally in Paris.

In Paris. It's surreal being here after so many months of planning and anticipation. I don't know that I'll ever get my head around the fact that my life--for the next year, at least--is here now. This was particularly difficult to comprehend in my first few days here, when I felt a bit out-of-sync with the city. I woke up on my first morning here with no motivation to venture out of bed. This reluctance stemmed partly from a poorly-timed, and rather nasty, cold. But it also came from a dawning realization that I was living in a European city filled with millions of foreign people and thousands of unknown streets. Taking the Metro seemed scary, let alone going to the post office or registering for classes. But finally, fearful of being seen as the lazy American on my first day with my host family, I took my first steps onto the streets of Paris.

And after that, it all got easier. Yes, I did avoid the Metro entirely my first day (you'd think the El would have beaten out my fear of public transit, but apparently not), but the sights of Paris will do wonders for the psyche.

I don't want this blog to turn into a laundry list of places I've visited (the Eiffel Tower! How original!). But, in the interest of time, I'm going to give you a laundry list off places I've visited over the past week. Some of these sites merit more in-depth posts, but I'll get to those later. Anyway, here's the week, day by day:

Saturday-Luxembourg Gardens

Sunday-Luxembourg Gardens again, the Opera Garnier, Eglise Madeleine, Place de la Concorde and Tuileries Gardens

Monday-Luxembourg Gardens yet again, and I did some other stuff....that I don't remember right now (I know, this is terrible. I vow to get much, much better with blogging/journaling).

Tuesday-Walking tour of the 5eme and 6eme arrondissements, lunch in the Greek Quarter, first sight of Notre Dame (this trip) and back to....the Luxembourg Gardens

Wednesday-Post office (not really a sight, but still important), Notre Dame, Shakespeare & Co. (absolutely one of my favorite places in Paris thus far), Berthillon (for the best ice cream in Paris), Place des Vosges, Victor Hugo's apartment and the Place de la Bastille

Thursday-Two methodology courses and my bed (the week finally caught up with me)

This weekend will be equally busy, though I'm not sure that taking a boat tour of the Seine and going to a concert in Montmartre really counts as being "busy," in the same way as going to the store. I'm looking forward to exploring some of the as-yet unknown neighborhoods of the city.

Of course, Paris is not perfect. And I've had a few minor brushes with the unpleasant side of the city (Note to creepy guy at the post office: Your penchant for standing uncomfortably close to American girls in front of you in line is not attractive. It is pervy and unacceptable. If I ever see you again, I will be forced to do more than weave continuously from side to side and glare nastily at you. Good day). But the fact remains that Paris is a beautiful city.

The best representation I can find of this dichotomy is something I saw yesterday in the Metro. It was rush hour, and I was navigating the tunnels with the rest of the herd when I heard music. Of course, I've seen a million performers in subway stations across the U.S., generally with open guitar or saxophone cases close by. But this was something different. As I mounted a flight of steps, I saw the musician, strumming away at his harp. A harp. The man was playing an honest-to-God harp. I can't even begin to imagine the logistics of navigating a harp through the Metro. But there it was, amidst the dirt and grime of a Metro station. It was a little moment, but it will stick with me for a while as a representation of my new city. The honeymoon stage is still on.

A bientot,

Alanna