Les derniers jours à Paris...cette fois!

The last week at my internship was very bittersweet. It all sort of happened in a whirl, as I was rushing to finish up translation assignments and that research I was doing for my boss so as not to leave unfinished work behind after my departure. And of course, I had to allot an appropriate amount of time for something the French seem to do really, really well: goodbye parties. Clélia, my supervisor, was so kind as to organize a goodbye lunch on Thursday at a crêperie in the neighborhood.  The waiter kept refilling my glass with Cidre, a traditional French sparkling cider, so despite it being only about 5 % alcohol, after a couple glasses of it there was little hope of having a productive afternoon after my party!

My co-workers at the Centre! Sitting to my left is my boss, and on my right is Sylvie, who shared my office.

In addition to my goodbye party, the director of the Centre, Monsieur Mourier, sent these beautiful white flowers to my office to thank me for all the great work I'd done, which he said was really helpful to the Centre and of good quality! Definitely a pretty good compliment to receive. Saying goodbye was harder than I thought it would be. I didn't realize until the very end, when it came time to leave, just how much I was going to miss my co-workers.

I kept thinking about how it was a day of many lasts : my last morning commute on the Paris métro, my last day at my stage, my last day getting a sandwich for lunch with my coworkers, my last day hearing the church bells ringing outside, the organ playing, or the accordion in the métro.  I'll miss the sounds of Paris...

There was also a goodbye party at IFE, my program center, where I got to see all my classmates in the program one last time. It felt weird, knowing this would be the last time we'd all be gathered there together as a group. Here are some of my best friends from IFE:

Me, Lia, Dan, Sydney, Yutian

On our last weekend together, Dan and Sydney and I went out for a walk Saturday night along the Seine to soak up some last sights and sounds of the city.  

My last morning in Paris, I was on my way to the métro when a French lady stopped me to ask a question:

Her: "Vous habitez dans le quartier?" ("Do you live in the neighborhood?")

Me: "Oui!" ("yes!")

What I wanted to say, there, was "Oui, jusqu'à demain..." ("yes, until tomorrow..."). Instead, the conversation continued something like this:

Her: "Connaissez-vous une coiffeuse ouverte le dimanche?" ("Do you know a hairdresser open Sundays?")

Me: "Oui, si vous continuez sur cette rue pour 2 minutes, c'est à la gauche..." ("Sure! If you continue on this road for about 2 minutes, there will be one on your left.")

The fact that this lady just came up to me as I was walking and the first thing she asked was if were I local made me pretty proud.  In a city where non-locals can consider it a huge accomplishment to be even spoken to in French by a shopkeeper, being assumed to be a local and asked for advice in this way, woman-to-woman (and furthermore, having a response!) was, for me, really rewarding.

And finally, on my last night in Paris, I did something I'd sort of been wanting to do since first arriving there: I climbed up to the top of Tour Montparnasse, a skyscraper with 56 floors...

...which gives you stunning, 360-degree views of all of Paris. Every Parisian I'd asked said sunset was the best time of day to go, so taking their advice, I'd say I timed my visit nearly perfectly! 

Keep Calm & Carry On

Hey everyone! So, I realized I never made a post about my weekend trip to London. Although I'm a bit short on time at the moment because I'm working on my 30-page mémoire de stage (due in a week!), I do want to at least share some photos with you:

Here's the link to my facebook album, which I've made public so everyone can see it.

Me, Abby, Sydney, and Dan: our attempt at the classic Abbey  Road picture!

 In London I invested in some nice dress shirts, of which I'm very proud! Classy!

In other exciting news, this past week, on Tuesday, Dan, who is currently interning with US Commercial Service invited me to visit and take a tour of the residence of the U.S. Ambassador to France and Monaco, Charles H. Rivkin. We were only permitted to take pictures inside the house (and the one just below, which was taken from the back garden)...it's just the front entryway which cannot be photographed, from my understanding. So, I'm only posting a couple pictures from the visit, but they gave everyone who visited a book with pictures of all the rooms and gardens and the artwork inside the house, which I'd be happy to show to anyone who's interested.

Back of the ambassador's residence.

They have a gorgeous garden, where they also grow organic vegetables!

Tonight, I'm seeing a production of Sweeney Todd at the The Théâtre du Châtelet!

Well, that's all for now, folks. Though for those of you not keeping track, I'm coming home in 8 1/2 days on Monday, May 23rd! I have mixed feelings about it, as is probably to be expected. I'm excited to see my family and friends again, but sad to leave this city...

I'm happy to say that while I've had mixed feelings about the degree to which I love Paris, I don't think I've ever taken it for granted.

Anonymity

When you're living in a city with some 2, 233, 818 other people, it's easy to feel a little lost in the crowd sometimes.

Before coming to Paris in January, I remember watching a French film, called simply "Paris", which centers around the theme of a main character who watches other people's lives go by from the balcony of his apartment.  Looking out my own window, I feel a bit of a connection to the main character in that film.  

Coffee and Paris

Scene from "Paris"

 My friend Dan's window looks out on an incredible view of the Eiffel Tower on the far left, the Arche de Triomphe, la Défense and Sacré-Cœur. It's a view I've looked at almost every day for the past 16 weeks and 4 days since I arrived here, and yet I don't think I could ever get tired of it.

But, looking closer, I'm also captivated by the other details. After the view, the first thing you notice is the quietness. Most nights, you hear nothing but the sound of the gentle breeze, occasionally even a few birds chirping. But in comparison to my window, which faces the street, from this side there's no traffic noise...it's calm. And then your thoughts will inevitably be interrupted by the sound of laughter or chatter from the balcony of a nearby apartment. In connection to the film I mentioned, I, too, find myself surprised by how much I can observe of other people's lives. Little details -- like that, from my window, I often see the same little old lady walking down the street, carrying her groceries, taking her sweet time. Or that the family in the apartment across from me has a cute black & white cat who loves to nap on the windowsill.

Paris sunset -- view from Dan's window

  

In a world where we feel connected to friends and family 24/7, making the adjustment to city life can be a bit overwhelming at times. A couple weeks ago, feeling the need for a break from work, I decided to take a short walk, leaving behind my phone. It hit me that for the duration of that 20-minute walk, no one in the world was able to contact me or knew my precise whereabouts. I was somewhere in the 7e arrondissement of Paris, no phone, most of my friends and family across the Atlantic Ocean. I couldn't have possibly been more anonymous than I was for those short moments. It was a bit liberating.

Paris is a city in which it's easy to maintain a certain degree of anonymity. On the métro, we have short encounters with people. We make eye contact, sometimes give each other an understanding glance or a smile, or offer our seats to those who look laden with heavy grocery bags or weary after a rough day at work. But after this fleeting instant of connection with a stranger, we leave, knowing it's improbable we'll ever see each other again. Only in a huge city like Paris would that type of interaction be possible. 

And yet, despite this anonymity, oddly enough, I feel a part of a sort of community. By understanding a sort of unspoken pattern of social norms and behaviours that identify me as a local, I feel oddly connected in some ways to those around me. Interactions with tourists are what make me realize that my behaviour has indeed been adapted to my surroundings, because I realize I've adopted the typical parisian norms and social 'rules' for behaviour  that distinguish me from the tourists who don't behave in that way. From norms such as speaking in a low voice in public places to biding by the rules of "métro étiquette" (especially important during rush hour), my behaviours are something I now share in common with all of those 2.2 million other habitants of Paris. It's pretty remarkable.

Apprendre

Today, I stumbled across this inspiring perspective on education in an article I was reading:

« Apprendre, c’est savoir être humble.  L’apprentissage est une démarche qui n’est pas orgueilleuse, mais n’en reste pas moins audacieuse. Celui qui s’y engage prend des risques, évolue le plus souvent en terrain inconnu. »

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“Learning is knowing how to be humble. While learning is a process that cannot be approached with arrogance, it nonetheless requires boldness.  Those who engage in learning take risks, developing most often in uncharted territory.”

I like this quote because it signifies to me that learning isn’t necessarily about knowing everything, but about knowing what you DON’T know.

I’ve been making progress on my ‘Mémoire de Stage’, my 30-page dissertation on the role of French and American think tanks in the process of decision making with regard to international climate change negotiations; it requires me to use resources made available to me by my internship at the Centre d’analyse stratégique, among others.

Addressing the broad and difficult question of climate change is a bit challenging, especially when I’m learning about an unfamiliar subject in another language! But I’m trying to keep in mind that, as this quotation suggests, I can’t expect to know everything!

From the the cap of a strawberry-banana smoothie at an all-organic café in London: "Best when chilled (as indeed we all are)". Love it!