The Rest of My Weekend and Les Restes

Well, so much for the touristy bit of my planned weekend with Lauren. Instead, we decided to just go ahead and go with the flow. We didn't actually get moving around Paris until about noon; before that, we took our time eating breakfast and getting ready for the day. Eventually, we made our way to Montmartre--reminiscent of my brief visit there freshman year of college--and somehow seemed to stumble upon the Sacred Heart of Montmartre (i.e., Sacré-Coeur). We made our way through the pilgrim's path within the basilica. About a quarter of the way in, I stopped in the bookshop area and purchased a text which included the order of the Mass, in French. Before even getting to Sacré-Coeur, I was able to purchase a new beret (I still think it was taken out of my suitcase during the baggage check, but I'm not quite sure...), and we tried vin chaud in a little courtyard outside of an adjoining parish. Following our visit to the basilica, we headed further down, just before t he tourist trap area, and after doing a bit of window shopping/shop exploration, had a mid-afternoon lunch at a pizzeria. Since it was cold and I wasn't thinking about the evening weather in terms of dress, we headed back to my room to warm up and fetch a proper jacket. I introduced Lauren to the chocolat chaud that Trevor and I usually end our day with (not the best idea when the day isn't yet over); afterwards, we didn't quite want to move. Even still, though, we found the energy to go back out and walked (and re-walked) the Champs-Elysées. At one point, we stopped in at Sephora. I had been to one in Michigan, and the one there had nothing on this one in Paris; there were so many choices of everything, and that along with the mélange of smells was quite a bit overpowering. After a quick stop at the Disney store (they played the French version of "He Lives in You"; SO great!), we decided to get some dinner which, had been decided a long time ago, ended up being sushi, to celebrate Lauren's 21st birthday. We quickly found the Japanese restaurant that's only a few blocks away from the apartment building. I had salmon sashimi with rice (I think that's what it's called), and a variety of dumplings that reminded me of Filipino cooking. I must admit I rather like Japanese food here. To wrap up the night, we stopped in at the brasserie that's right next door to the apartment building, and toasted one last time to Lauren's b-day.

Today (Sunday), Lauren and I went to Notre Dame for a Gregorian Mass service. I have a bit of trouble following Mass in French; it was quite a bit difficult to follow it in Latin, especially without the guide sheet. After Mass, we came back to the apartment building and after Lauren finished packing, we went downstairs to join Trevor, Christine and Antoine, and eventually the kids, for our weekly lunch. It was relatively shorter, in comparison to our past meals, in large part because Lauren's train would be leaving soon. Comme toujours, Christine made a wonderful lunch. We began with an apératif, this time including quite a bit of Spanish influence. Following that, for our first course, we had salad, along with a flaky crust dish with somewhat of a salmon filling. I don't quite understand what's going on with my fish consumption, but I don't seem to be complaing much about it. For our second course, we had wonderfully-cooked chicken alongside rice. Our third course consisted of some cheese, and homemade bread. We then tackled the dessert which (at first, I got extremely worried at the mere possibility that it was made of mango) Chiristine quickly checked and confirmed it was made of passion fruit.

After lunch, Lauren and I lounged a bit to gather more energy, and then headed for Gare de Lyon, where I dropped her off a few minutes before she had to leave. After our good-bye exchanges, I rushed off to the grocery store to soon find out (again) that they were closed, but not as late as other stores are on a given Sunday. Failed by my attempt to purchase the items on my grocery list, I went back to my room to clean up a bit and began to continue my studying. Thankfully, I have only one class tomorrow and was able to get through the article (i.e., my only assignment for Monday).

Now, I could get ahead in my work... at least, that was the thought that Trevor and I had. We soon realised, however, that our study habits needed to relax for the time being, and thus began eating dinner. If you look it up in the translating dictionary, les restes is the French term for "leftovers," which Trevor and I had this evening. As we went through the night, we eventually (and accidentally) formed a five-course meal, and finished quite a bit of food in the refrigerator. I definitely need more room after tomorrow's shopping extravaganza. Tonight, we had:

*Boiled potatoes with raclette (a cheese which is melted for this dish) and prosciutto
*Leftover cream of mushroom chicken (Trevor had some of the leftover rice, as well)
*Salad with tomatoes
*A hodepodge array of desserts, including a berry-mousse dessert I artistically concocted and focused my attention on for quite some time. Eventually, I'll get photos uploaded so you can see my creations.
*Chocolat chaud with pain au chocolat

Tomorrow, Trevor and I have also decided to finish the rest of our leftovers, that time around including the salmon I cooked last Friday.

In the Real World, People Speak ‘French’ French

I know this may be perhaps rather cliché to say, but ‘real’ French can’t be taught in the classroom. Rather, it must be learned by talking and interacting with people; certainly, picking up mannerisms of a particular culture will soon self-translate themselves into understanding the language and sociolinguistic cues of the community one is trying to be a part of. Alright, enough of such talk.

I guess what I’m trying to say is that I still have a lot to learn, particularly in terms of language and cultural nuances. Ever since I left for my entretien yesterday, I have been constantly being witness to ‘that which is French.’ My ride to Fontenay-sous-Bois was quite easy from Etoile, only taking half an hour. Julie, our internship placement advisor, was nice enough to come along with me to the internship site, as this is the first time that my internship site has worked with BU. After a quick stop at a vrai café (Julie told me that, in France, we’re not supposed to show up too early; one should arrive just on time, and a little after works just as well), we walked to the internship site, which is probably only about a two minute max walk from the RER station. We approached what looked like a house and were soon greeted by staff members of AFS Vivre sans Frontières.

Julie left me to (as I would soon find out) speak with the director of the programme, while I had my interview with Elsa and Simon. They were really nice and personable, and talked to me about the different responsibilities, the application process, and so forth. By application process, I mean that I’d potentially be on the administrative side of a study abroad programme, helping to match students with host countries and families, etc., as well as to orient students leaving France for one of AFS’s 50 destinations. In essence, I get to put my study abroad experience to good use! I’d say that’s quite up my alley, yebo?

After what I thought was my actual interview, Elsa showed me around the Vivre sans Frontières building and introduced me to the staff members; there are currently 14 people working with 400 incoming and 400 outgoing students. Hyuu! Following the tour, she showed me into the same room I had spoken to her in earlier and left to continue some work. After about five minutes, Julie came down with another staff member who told me I would now be going for my interview. I didn’t quite understand, as I thought I had just spent about 30-45 minutes talking to two people. In any case, Julie said she would wait for me, and so I followed this staff member upstairs and went into a small office in the corner of the top floor. It was about 17h00 by this time, and only one lamp atop the Director’s desk. I sat down and within about a four-minute interview session in French, the Director welcomed me (in English) to the group. So long story short, I’m 99 per cent sure I have the internship. I’m just not entirely sure, as I haven’t yet signed the formal contract. But, oh well, we’ll see what happens soon enough. In any event, the experience was rather interesting, and definitely opened my eyes to the fact that in the real French world (as opposed to the one in the BU building where people are more than happy to correct our French, slow down for us, etc.), people speak ‘French,’ not American French, or collegiate French, but actual French.

I suppose to continue the French experience, I unexpectedly cooked a five-course dinner for Trevor and I. Round 1 was a simple toasted baguette with Leerdammer and Gouda, as well as ham, followed by tomato sauce to which I added Gouda on slices of pain de campagne with baked pasta crusted with Emmental. For round 3, we visited South Africa for a bit and had carrot salad (2:1:1 ratio of carrots, apples and orange juice) paired with the white wine produced from Stellenbosch. After working on some homework in order to take a breather from the food we had just eaten (plus-que-parfait anyone?), we then had our cheese plate of chèvre, emmental and comté. We finished off our meal with a two-part dessert of mousse au chocolat noir and my favourite, chocolat chaud.

Mental Exercises: French-Style

Yesterday (Sunday), after a pseudo-confusing scheduled time for lunch, I made my way downstairs to have lunch with Trevor, our host family, and two of their friends. There were three extra kids in the house, but it still somewhat felt like there weren’t any kids around. In any event, I got to the apartment around 12h30, and didn’t leave until about 17h10. The entire time, they were speaking to each other in what seemed like sped-up Parisian French, a speed that I rather enjoy, but it was quite difficult to keep track of the quick subject changes and oftentimes dual conversations (if not somehow more) going on at one time. Towards the end, Trevor and I somehow got slipped into the conversation but fell back out again. One of my favourite exercises, however, was trying to explain South Africa’s « Coloured » identity in French. I hope they understood me. Aside from the speaking exercises, the food somehow became a mental exercise for me, as well. By far, this was perhaps the French-iest of food experiences I’ve had while in Paris.

We started with ponche as an apéritif (which, by the way, felt like it was attacking the sick germs in my throat). We then moved on to foie gras (i.e., duck liver), with toasted bread and salad. As the main course, we had what I can closely describe as fettucine bolognaise. We carried on with a cheese plate which included comté (my favourite of the four), rocquefort, camembert, and a cheese that I can’t still seem to remember the name of (though it does have a signature line of blue within any given triangular slice). For dessert, we ended with a blackberry tart. Whew, I’m kind of hungry again.

After a small break from our nearly entire afternoon lunch, Trevor and I left to go to 18h30 Mass at Notre Dame. The cathedral is beautiful, big, and rather overwhelming. The service was rather traditional (including some responses sung in Latin), included a children’s choir, and was televised live on a Catholic television station. If something wasn’t said in Latin, it definitely was said in French. Outside of a few responses here and there, as well as the Our Father, I still found myself a bit lost (though the bulletin did have an English translation of the readings); I’ll definitely have to go back there.

All week, Trevor had been planning to go back to Sunset Sunside but before going there, we had dinner at a small café (even though we were both still rather full from lunch). After dinner, I concluded that I still wasn’t feeling all too well and made my way back home, ending my night with homework and a call from home.

Ooh, gotta get going to my interview!

I Will Now Forever Think « Beuf ! »

Friday was an awesome day to be a part of BU’s Paris programme. The school divided us in half, alphabetically and took us on a French dégustation, i.e., a tasting of French foods. Elisabeth was our culinary guide and told us to try different foods and then make a decision on whether we liked it or not. Our first course was focused on meat: a trânche (slice) of dry sausage, and rillettes and boudin-noir pâtés on baguette slices. From the fromagerie, we tried chèvre (goat cheese), fourme d’Ambert (a kind of bleu cheese), comté (which kind of tastes like Trevor’s favourite, emmental), and tried two types of camembert, an artisan and an industrielle form. This sort of tasting allowed us to know what to look for when going to the grocery store, when price and quality are usually in the forefront of American students’ minds. Artisan forms reveal that someone actually took the time to make the food, as opposed to the industrial form that could definitely be seen as uniform and more generic looking. This is quite apparent when it comes to go to the boulangerie and comparing baguettes. Speaking of the boulangerie and other inventive bread and sweet creations from the patisserie, we tried a bread that I had never had before (and still am not sure of the name), croissant au beurre, baguette vennoise, palimier, pain au chocolat, profiterol, baguette vennoise du chocolat, and for dessert, a chocolate mocha cake, (I think) mille feuille, and chocolate éclaires. They also taught us how to choose between two bottles of unopened wine and how to serve the different foods to guests.

After the conclusion of our French tasting experience, I joined most of my classmates from my 469 class and somehow made it through a movie from the 70s called Touki-Bouki. It didn’t seem like any of us were fans, nor did we completely understand what was going on. From the sound of the voices (and there didn’t seem to be much dialogue at all), people were speaking in French and either in Arabic or Wolof (the movie takes place in Senegal). What made it even more difficult was that the subtitles were in English but also in white, which made it quite a challenge to understand how the translation worked.

The night before, Trevor and I basically planned out our weekend and we met up with Erin, Liz, and Meredith, and headed for the Louvre. After navigating through the Métro, we made our way to Les Pyramides, the entrance into the Louvre itself. We were told that since we were registered through BU as Art History students, we could get into the museum for free; we didn’t quite understand, however, how to go about getting the student card. After many redirections and instructions by various staff members, we finally made our way to the card centre and received our student passes. [This, along with the Carte Navigo passes made some of us feel like we had tons of power, haha.] We then spent the next two hours going through the museum, including our visits to the « beuf » (pronounced bof) pieces, pieces which in their own right are amazing, but left us asking why everyone makes a big deal out of them, the clearest one being La Jaconde. After our trek through the museum, we headed for the Fondation, and once there, we all ate dinner with Gerald, Jill (hope you’re feeling better!), and Sam. I finally got the formula right and only spent 2,85 €!).

The Louvre group then left the Fondation and headed for Centre Tchèque which, as you may have guessed it, translates to the Czech Centre. Permission to preface (that’s for all the wonderful Model UNers who have somehow wandered onto this blog): Trevor loves jazz music and we’ve been looking for the best jazz group in France. Anyhow, he stumbled onto a website that lists every jazz concert and somehow happened upon the Czech Centre. We were a bit skeptical about going to the Czech Centre, primarily because the photo on-line made it seem like too modern of a place. And really, because it was a French-Czech establishment. (Haha, I don’t know why, but I kinda « czecheled » at that one. Okay, I’m done.) En tout cas, we decided (more like I started moving and there was no turning back) to go in and I asked a guy outside of the door if there was a jazz club performance inside. Through the window, we could only see a few folks chatting away. Still a bit anxious and unsure of what to expect, we were greeted by an über-enthusiastic guy who told us that the entrance was only 3 € and that the bar downstairs didn’t accept cash, but we could buy a set of tickets equivalent to 2 glasses of wine for 4 €. Now, you may be thinking « downstairs, why do you have to go down? » or something to that effect, right? In any case, we go down the stairs and the room begins to appear; the place definitely looked like a converted dungeon. At any rate, it would’ve been a cool dungeon if that’s what it’s purpose actually was; otherwise, it’d be a great wine cellar. EntouK, it was the site of the jazz concert. The music and company were great, but we couldn’t see the band from where we were sitting. We all got quite hungry after the concert and made our way to the crêpe kiosk that was conveniently right next to our Métro stop. I got a crêpe mixte (ham and cheese). I love Paris.

Lundi, My First Day of Classes

Finally, Monday rolled around out of bed. Speaking of rolling out of bed, I literally had to do that as I woke up noticing that I was running fairly late to class. Thanks to an understanding professor and all of the practice I had had beforehand, I got to class quicker and more easily than expected. My only class on Mondays and Wednesdays is my economics class, from 9h00-11h30. I'm quite excited for the course, and the professor definitely knows what she's teaching us. However, I feel like she wants to pack in as much as possible into any given class period. We only had 15 minutes to complete an activity. Usually, we'd begin to wrap up and get dismissed early, but not here in France! We each read an article in a contemporary journal, discussed it with our neighbour(s), provided a reaction and received a response from our professor (with only 5 minutes to go)! She definitely picked up speed and brought it into overdrive in the end. Especially after having been overloaded on so much French the day and night before, it was quite an overwhelming experience.

After class, Pamela joined me in a mini-voyage around Paris. We went to a diner for lunch and I (once again) had a croque monsieur (I wonder why I don't label my posts with this... I'll definitely have to start now) alongside Orangina (I should probably start labeling with this, too). I then bought my carte navigo decouverte which allows me to travel in zones 1 and 2 of Paris using public transport without having to use individual tickets. [It's SOOO cool, and I definitely feel like I'm too cool for anything, or at least like I celebrity or cop (wow.) when all I have to do is take my wallet out (with my c.n.d. inside) and tap the entrance mechanism's c.n.d. sensor.] We then went looking for a place to buy scarves (to no avail) but did find a great place that sells cheap, good-quality baggage. I bought a really great laptop bag for 7,50 €. Since we couldn't find the scarves anywhere, we parted ways and I went back to my room to wait for Trevor to go eat dinner. We went to the Fondation and joined some of the BU folk over there. The food's like usual cafeteria food, though I must say it makes me want to eat at Baldy.

To end the night, we thought we'd finish off our leftover baguette; however, the baguette was stale. So, thinking ahead for our first planned dinner (I'll keep you in suspense), I thought I'd use it to make breadcrumbs. I tried grating the hardened bread, but failed semi-miserably. :-P