Photos : Best of

They say a picture is worth a thousand words. So with 5 weeks left of my semester in Paris, I've decided to select 20 of the best photos I've taken this semester...which, going by my math, is the equivalent of 20 000 words, or about the same thing as if I wrote up an 80-page novel about my time so far! These pictures bring back some of my favorite memories so far, so enjoy!

(By the way, you can click on these pictures to view them larger.)

1 - Paris Opera

2 - Cimetière du Père-Lachaise

3 - The chocolate shop we passed every day on the way back from IFE, 11e arr.

4 - Fontainebleau market

5 - Class at the Louvre

6 - Pont des Arts

7 - Tour Eiffel, view from Princess Diana Memorial

7 - Alright, this was a tie for #7. I had to include them both.

8 - Barcelona. Pretty self explanatory.

9 - Chocolate Museum. Our album cover.

10 - Café in Barcelona. View of the harbor.

11 - Barcelona Harbor.

12 - Plaça Reial, Barcelona

13 - Centre Pompidou

14 - Dawn. First day of my stage.

15 - Stairs at Montmartre.

16 - Sacré Cœur

17 - Thinking with The Thinker.  Musée Rodin.

18 - Booksellers in Lille.

19 - Printemps.

20 - Soaking up sun along the Seine in spring.

Breakfast at Oscar's

"How can a woman be expected to be happy with a man who insists on treating her as if she were a perfectly normal human being."

--- Oscar Wilde, Irish dramatist, novelist, & poet (1854 - 1900)

It wasn't until I came to Paris that I ever bothered to appreciate the wisdom, frankness, and humor of Oscar Wilde's take on things.  Last week my friends and I re-watched the film "Paris, je t'aime," which has short films telling love stories set in various parts of Paris. For those of you who haven't seen it, the 5-minute film set in Père Lachaise cemetary, which talks about Oscar Wilde, can be viewed here (although I'd highly recommend watching the whole film if you haven't).  After watching it, I was inspired to take a closer look at some of what Oscar had to say, and was surprised I'd so thoroughly overlooked him until now.  To think that someone who lived over a century ago could describe so accurately my own thoughts and feelings is pretty amazing...and really worth reflecting on.

Everything he said is still so relevant! One of his famous quotations, for example, describes perfectly the theme of the classic film When Harry Met Sally: "Between men and women there is no friendship possible. There is passion, enmity, worship, love, but no friendship."  Even in instances when I do disagree with him, I can definitely still see where he's coming from.

In admiration of Oscar Wilde, Sydney and I decided to take a leaf out of Breakfast at Tiffany's, the famous quotation that gives the movie it's name: "Well, when I get it [that feeling] the only thing that does any good is to jump in a cab and go to Tiffany's. Calms me down right away. The quietness and the proud look of it; nothing very bad could happen to you there. If I could find a real-life place that'd make me feel like Tiffany's, then - then I'd buy some furniture and give the cat a name!"

Saturday morning, we woke up early and bought churros (a type of Spanish donut we'd been introduced to in Barcelona), and headed to Père Lachaise cemetary, which is within easy walking distance from our foyer. We strolled through the cemetary, soaking up the serene atmposhere, and holding our churros, which wafted a sweet, sugary scent that brought back fond memories of Barcelona, until we came to Oscar Wilde's grave.  There, we took a seat just behind it, and ate our churros while pondering various Oscar Wilde quotes, telling stories and catching up from the week, listening to birds announcing spring's arrival, and enjoying a rare moment of quiet that's hard to find in Paris. It was the most peaceful breakfast I'd had in months.
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That afternoon, on what ended up being the perfect Saturday, Sydney and Dan and I all went for a picnic by the Eiffel Tower. Sunny, in the 70s, great friends, baguette, wine and cheese...what more could you ask for?

Tackling the Tango

I realized I never told the story about this, so even though it happened a long time ago, it's definitely worth telling:

A lot of people you meet have that one thing they're totally obsessed with.  For my friend Sydney, it's ballroom dance.  She loves it to the point where when she couldn't remember the direction she was supposed to turn her head in the Viennese Waltz, she just had to email her ballroom dance instructor back in the States and find out!  So way back in February (about our third weekend in Paris), she convinced Dan and I to go out for a night of what she said would be salsa dancing at this great ballroom she'd found online.  Our lack of ballroom expertise required, of course, practice lessons before heading out to dance, so the whole week before, we held salsa lessons in her room to learn all the basic moves.  Being a relatively fast learner, I felt pretty confident as we headed out for our evening at Le Chalet du Lac de Saint-Mandé.

The place was impossible to find.  We only managed to find it after a 45-minute trek up and down the same road looking for the right street to turn on.  We finally found it at the end of a long, sweeping driveway, looking like a castle from afar! But even after barely finding the place, and walking through sketchy woods to get there, that turned out to be the least of my worries.  As it turned out, it wasn't going to be so much the night of salsa dancing for which we'd so avidly prepared, but instead mostly swing and tango...with maybe two salsa songs thrown in.


The best word to describe the place is pretentious. But there we were, me feeling only slightly out of place as I entered the room full of fancily-dressed middle-aged and older Parisian couples! But it wasn't long before I was asked to dance by men persistent enough not to take no for an answer, even after I insisted that I just didn't know how to dance. But there I was, being led by the hand onto the dance floor, and before I knew it, I was being spun around so fast I lost track of where I was...it felt like I was flying! Well, that was my intimidating introduction to the swing dance.  A really sweet, elegant-looking older man kept asking me to dance throughout the evening, but he quickly realized I didn't have a clue what I was doing out on the dance floor, and patiently led me through all the steps of the swing and the tango. Learning the tango was by far my favorite moment of the evening. He explained all of the steps (in French), not by telling me when to move each foot, etc., but by explaining the attitude I should have...and just said to let my feet follow!

So that wonderful evening inspired my sudden interest in taking ballroom dance lessons, and is the reason why this happened in Barcelona:

Learning the Viennese Waltz along the Barcelona harbor, by the Mediterranean... can you imagine anything more beautiful?

 

Barcelona, the most amazing city I've ever been to....I miss it.

Printemps

Spring has finally sprung in Paris. One thing my co-workers have been telling me is that the trees, like this beautiful one with pink flowers right by the Musée Rodin, are only in bloom for so long, so it's best to enjoy it while it lasts!

Today I came straight back to the office after being at lunch for over an hour, having taken my time and conversed with a few of the other young women from the office.  But upon seeing me headed back to my desk, the man in the office next to mine asked what I was doing back so soon, and why I wasn't out taking a stroll around the quartier.  And it was true -- why miss out on a beautiful, Paris spring day like this one?!?

My beautiful view as I exit the metro on my way to work every morning

The weekend before last my parents were here visiting, and we took advantage of the warm, and unusually cooperative weather on Saturday to see some of Paris's best sights, like these ones.

Notre Dame

Lost in translation

I'm starting to forget English.

No, obviously not completely. But I can tell that my fluency in French is drastically improving. Firstly, I've nearly completely stopped translating conversations into English. If in a conversation, I hear a word or two I'm unfamiliar with, then of course I'll try to figure out the meaning of the word based on context. But one day, for example, on our way to lunch, a few colleagues and I were discussing the upcoming wedding of a woman I work with and she was telling us about her bridesmaid. Then, someone wanted to know the English word for it, and I completely blanked! I had to tell them to come back to me, and that I'd remember what it was called later; sure enough I remembered the word about ten minutes later, but not without quite a bit of laughter from my French colleagues, who couldn't understand how the American intern couldn't remember a simple word in English!

Secondly, there are certain French words and phrases that, now that I know what they mean and how to use them appropriately in context, just don't require translating into English. In fact, with these particular words and phrases, they seem so natural to me at this point that I can't remember a time not knowing what they mean, and I certainly couldn't tell you if or when I learned them in a classroom. It's phrases and words like "incitations", "il s'agit de...", "il faut que...", and "dérouler" that really stump me when I try to come up with an explanation for their meaning.  Words like that have started to come naturally to me, popping up in my own vocabulary when I need them, then quietly slipping out of sight again, unquestioned.

So you can imagine, my job, which frequently requires me to translate documents from French to English for the organization's website and for speeches at international colloquiums, can make me want to pull my hair out sometimes.   When I'm speaking in English and only in English, not switching back and forth rapidly between the two, English is no problem.  But right now it's as if my brain has a language on/off switch.  If I get started speaking, listening to, or reading in French, my English goes right out the window.

A few weeks ago, I was with my friends in the metro, on my way to the Musée Rodin, when a guy stopped me and asked for directions in English. I quickly replied in what I thought was English, then didn't understand when he kept staring at me, giving me a weird look...turns out I'd unintentionally replied in French. Whoops, wrong language!

On another note, this past weekend I went to the Salon du Livre, an international symposium about books! It was at the Parc des Expositions site at Porte de Versailles in Paris. It's an event that's held annually, and brings together booksellers, authors promoting their books and available to talk about them and sign them, book lovers from all over the world, and of course, students, for whom entry is free! I love perks like that.

Salon du Livre

Best hammock ever. I must have one in my future home.

Congolese literature! I wasn't kidding when I said authors come there from around the world.

And while I'm at it, FUN FACT: This building, called "Le Projet Triangle" is being constructed at the Parc des Expositions and is estimated to be completed by 2014.

Apparently, "The environmental approach of the project [...] limits its ground impact and allows the optimum utilisation of solar and wind power due to its excellent positioning." Check out more pictures & info here: http://www.dezeen.com/2008/09/29/le-projet-triangle-by-herzog-de-meuron/

From the Desk of Carin

My own desk!

Finally it’s Friday, and I’ve made it through the first whole week of my stage! My regular supervisor, a young woman (she’s only 26!) working in the International Relations department of the CAS returned from vacation on Thursday, so for the past two days we’ve gotten lunch at the cafeteria for the Minister of Education. Meals are highly subsidized there, so although the food is genuinely quite good, it’s also very reasonably priced. The cafeteria is on the 6^th floor, and there’s a beautiful view of La Tour Eiffel, l’Arc de Triomphe, La Defense, and the Grand Palais. I must say I feel very lucky!

The work itself has also gone really smoothly. I feel that I’ve accomplished a lot this week and have really made a good impression (from what I can tell, at least). In addition to summarizing that 30-page chapter of a book and creating a portfolio on an organization in order to prep both my boss and his supervisor for their meeting next week, I also did some translations. My supervisor hurried into my office this morning with an English-translation of a handout for the English-speaking participants a colloquium next week, asking me to correct the translation, STAT! I felt a little weird re-writing a whole paragraph to improve its clarity and concision and rephrasing things right and left, since it felt weird as an intern correcting my superiors, but she was happy with the result. It’s a great feeling knowing that something I worked on will be given out to experts in their field!

My new workplace

My first week of the metro in rush hour traffic -- apparently arrows are needed?

 This past weekend while I was Skyping with my friend Cosima, clouds rolled in and it started to rain. The lighting was so beautiful that I had to run over to the window and take a picture. The second picture was taken only about 15 minutes later! It may be Paris, a city known for drizzly, grey skies, but it can be really pretty sometimes too.

By the way, that small tower in the distance on the far right is the Tour Montparnasse

La Mer à Boire

‘La Mer à Boire,’ literally “the sea to drink,” is an old French saying to describe an impossible task ahead of you.  About a week ago, right after classes ended and I knew that my internship was looming just on the other side of my week-long Barcelona vacation, that’s about how I felt.  Maybe it was the Barcelona sun and palm trees melting all my worries away, but I’m proud to say that I now feel significantly less panicked when I think about the 30-page “Mémoire de Stage” that I must write over the course of the next three months. When the going gets rough I just have to remember, as Thomas (my program director) told us, “Ce n’est pas la mer à boire. [it’s not impossible!]

A café in Belleville 

I never thought I’d say this, but typing on an American keyboard is weird! I just finished day 2 of my stage [internship] at the Centre d’Analyse Strategique, a governmental think tank which provides policy guidance to the Prime Minister.  After typing all afternoon on a French-style keyboard, which has French accent keys and several letters switched around, I suddenly feel like I’m back in keyboarding class, slightly unsure of where all the keys are.

My first day, I didn’t have to be there until 11 am, but I was up early, planning out my metro route for the third or fourth time, taking my time with breakfast, anxiously checking the mirror and my clock.  I still arrived early enough that I thought it better to take a short stroll before going in. My stage is in the 7^th arrondissement, an area scattered with government buildings and important-looking places. Upon exiting the metro, the first thing I see is the Musée Rodin, with the Eiffel Tower just beyond, and I pass the Swiss Embassy on the way to work.  The building where I work, which is right across the street from a tall Cathedral, is pretty old, apparently one that was formerly a huge, fancy house way back when, and that’s evident in the layout of the rooms, and by the way that the staircases weave and curve around, and aren’t lined up – after you reach the landing on the 1^st floor, you have to walk down the hall to the back of the building to take the stairs the rest of the way up to the 4^th floor, where I now have my own desk.

My supervisor for this week is the second in command in the whole organization, and he specializes in International Relations.  The young woman who will be my supervisor throughout the internship is on vacation this week, so until she returns I’ll be reporting to him. He’s kind and sensible, but direct, which is perfect for a first-time intern, because there’s no reading-in-between-the-lines needed to understand his expectations.  After a brief meeting with my supervisor after arriving, I spent the next couple of hours getting settled in, setting up at my desk, getting my badge, and walking to the IT center located about 10 minutes away to set up my computer account on the government network. My office, which I share with one other really nice woman, has a window facing the cathedral, a computer clearly labeled with a French flag “propriété de l’Etat” [State property], and a phone.  This is the first time I’ve ever had my own office space, and I’m really proud of it.

My first assignment as an intern was to read a 40-page chapter out of a book describing a historic research institution that existed throughout the 1960s and 70s, called the CORDES, and to write-up a summary of it. The language is really technical, and it’s a subject with which I’m completely unfamiliar, but today I was able to pick up the pace slightly as I became more comfortable with the subject matter and had a better idea of the main points I was supposed to be focusing on.

Today, my second day, I felt a lot more comfortable.  All morning my supervisor was in an important meeting and hadn’t left me anything to do, so I spend a while uneasily reading the newspaper and re-reading the work I’d done yesterday, but around midday things really picked up.  At noon, there was a going-away party for a woman who I believe had worked at the organization for over thirty years and who was switching jobs (still within the government). The general director gave a short speech, during which I was surprised and delighted to hear him quote the famous French book Le Petit Prince by Antoine de Saint-Exupéry!  After that, champagne was served, as were an assortment of little sandwiches and trays of fruit with toothpicks, and mini tarts and other desserts.  It was a really great opportunity to mingle with my new colleagues, and luckily the woman who shares my office was kind enough to introduce me to a number of people with whom I chatted. Everyone seemed really friendly and welcoming, and one woman in particular chatted with me for a pretty long time, and shared a good deal of personal information. After talking with some of my fellow students doing internships, we all seem to agree on one thing: French women love to gossip!


For the rest of the day, I got to work on my next assignment, about 200 pages of photocopying, plus adding another 60 page document to my stack of readings to summarize. But the going is getting easier already. I’m grateful for how well my Professors as W&M seem to have prepared me for this and for how wonderful an opportunity this clearly is for me. So far, so good!