Grèves & Gastronomie

France is on the verge of imploding, or at the very least that how it seems to me at present. Aside from constant terrorism threats resulting in evacuation of popular areas in the city, the French are currently infuriated at the proposed amendments to the laws concerning national retirement age.  The French president, M. Sarkozy, has proposed changing the retirement age in France from 60 to 62, and the French people are not pleased.  Strikes (grèves, in French) are occurring all over the country, in various sectors.  High schoolers, college students, and of course those approaching retirement age have been turning out in the streets en masse, attempting to change Sarkozy's mind.  Not only does this mean that I keep running into demonstrations at the most inconvenient times, but the reverberations of the strike are being felt on many levels.  Students are blockading their high schools and universities, the metro here in Paris has been running inconsistently, national train services have been interrupted, and major oil refineries are closed.  Oil refineries is the biggest bummer, currently, as my planned vacation beginning on Saturday is dependent upon the planes at Charles de Gaulle having enough fuel to fly... I'm glad to experience this part of French culture, bien sur, but if the strike means that I won't be able to go home to Ireland on Saturday afternoon as planned, I am going to be a very unhappy camper.

Huge demonstration at the Place de la Bastille...  Reminiscent of the techno parade!

Grèves aside, this coming week is my last week of classes at BU, which means I have final exams on Friday.  It's incredible to think that the halfway point is already upon me, but more than being incredible it's really pretty scary.  I feel like I need to kick my derrière into high gear, so I don't fly home with any "I wish I'd done..." thoughts floating through my head!

Adorable French kids racing around a mini track beneath the Eiffel Tower.
Aren't the leaves pretty?

The other evening I left my apartment after having spent the whole day in its cozy confines, surrounded by tissues and vitamin C pills, and I walked north towards the Belleville neighborhood.  I was keen to do a bit of discovering, as time is slipping so quickly away.  Belleville was interesting-  it had a totally different vibe from the rest of the city.  After finding an awesome gift that I plan to send to  my sister Sinéad, I was feeling pretty happy with myself.  On top of the satisfaction of happening upon the perfect present, I was lucky enough to pick up a piping hot baguette  from my boulangerie on the way home -- and, just because I was feeling just a bit sorry for my sneezy self, a tartelette aux framboises.  It was more delicious than I could ever have imagined.  At times like this I feel particularly convinced that the best parts about life in Paris are the small things-  hot baguettes and perfectly sweet desserts not excluded.

This blurry iPhone photo doesn't begin to serve justice to this deliciousness.

I spent the past weekend in Rouen, a city in Normandy.  It was a glorious change of pace from Paris, it felt like a small town though it's really fairly sizeable.   The best part was experiencing a food festival that lasted the duration of my visit-  Streets overflowing with vendors willing to give free samples of traditional cuisine from Normandy.  Lots of seafood, honey, cheese, jam and foie gras... (I'd be lying if I said I didn't sneak a bite or two of foie gras... Shh!)  It was really an awesome time to be in Rouen.  The city was chilly, but we bravely tromped through several intense rain storms yesterday and we faced harsh winds all day today, visiting the famous Cathedral and the spot where Jeanne d'Arc was burned at the stake.  The spot, by the way, is a huge pile of dirt with a tiny commemorative sign.  Bizarrely understated.

Pain des épices, jam, honey.

Inside of the old abbey in Rouen

Andouillette sausage cooked in cider with onions.

I've been trying my hardest to fight off an approaching cold.  Aside from the general woes this brings, I've been struggling with the difficulties of blowing my nose with its new piercing!  Not the best timing for a cold.  On top of the approaching sickness, I've been sleeping horrendously.  My sleep pattern has been frequently interrupted since I've been here; I'll attribute it to a combination of my silly decisions to stay out far too late and the still unfamiliar noises of Paris at night.  (Read: Michael Jackson's greatest hits randomly floating through the air on a Thursday night)  It's nothing too concerning, it's more just an irritation.  I think there is nothing worse than lying awake at 4 in the morning feeling utterly convinced you will never sleep again!
Though I will be sad to leave Paris this coming Saturday, I'm looking forward to some vacation time.  I'll be in Ireland, Spain, and England.  Lots of family and friend time, which I think I'll be needing especially after this upcoming week at school.  Two months from tomorrow, I will be meeting my family at Philadelphia airport, for what will probably be a very tearful reunion.  I'm looking forward to the day, as I miss them each intensely, but I'm sad to see my time slip so quickly.  I can tell already that this is one of the most incredible experiences of my life.  Halfway over already?  That hardly seems fair!  But ne vous inquiétez pas, chéris.  I plan to make the most of it. xo

How To Get Your iPhone Stolen & Other Parisian Tales

Hello, chers amis. This week has been a strange one, full of ups and downs and highs and lows.

Unfortunately, the week began on a tremendously low point last Sunday. Having gathered all my books for my homework and my laptop only to discover that every café near my apartment was packed to capacity, I found myself in a quiet corner of McDonald's last Sunday afternoon, doing some work for class. (Note: though it is still inherently distasteful to be in a McDonald's in Paris, it has to be said that fast food, like most things in France, is much better here.) As I did homework, chatting away to some friends from home while I half-heartedly highlighted some facts about French politics, I had one of those gut-wrenching, stomach-twisting, heart-pounding realization moments: my iPhone had been stolen. Sitting next to my laptop on the table not ten minutes before, my dear iPhone had been taken by two very tricky beggar girls who had been bothering me a while before. By the time I realized, it was ten minutes too late. After frantically searching every fold of my clothing and re-arranging every item in my bag, it was confirmed. I went back to my apartment, tears streaming down my face the whole way, and regrouped. It was my fault, it has to be said. Over the past three (!!!) weeks I've gotten pretty good at becoming street smart; I never make eye contact with anyone on the street or metro, I zip my bag tightly shut and hold it close to my chest... It took only a single moment of lapsed judgment to learn the hard way. Leaving an iPhone on a table at a McDo in the middle of Paris in broad daylight is asking for it to be stolen, truly.

After many many tears, a desperate phone call to McDonald's, and general moping about for a few days, I had a brief epiphany and took a shot in the dark by asking a close friend of my family if she might have kept her older model iPhone when she upgraded to the newest model recently. To my immense relief and joy, she had indeed kept her old model lying around and was more than willing to support my cause. It is times like this that it pays to sleeplessly and obsessively mull things over all through the night.

The iPhone incident really shook me, though it is now resolved, and I found myself in a pretty definitive funk at the beginning of the week. I didn't want to be in Paris anymore, though there were so many good things to enjoy, because this one bad thing had happened to me and I had let the Big Bad City get me. I wanted to be in the Connelly Center at Villanova, where I can leave my purse and laptop unattended for ten minutes without stress that they will be snatched up. More than that, however, I wanted to be back in my home with my family, where my sisters would help me laugh my tears away while my parents would implore us, “Would you PLEASE go to bed?!” It was the first time that I felt really homesick, and I had some trouble shaking it. I'm happy to report that the natural ebb and flow of homesickness has worked its magic, and since then I've had some of the happiest days I've had since arriving in Paris.

The woman at my local boulangerie recognizes me now, which is a monumental step in assimilating into French society, I think. On Tuesdays and Thursdays, I set my alarm 20 minutes earlier than need be so I have time to stop into the bakery and enjoy a pain au chocolat and steaming expresso while I review my notes for class. When I've finished, I call au revoir, merci! and head to the metro, where I read the latest copy of L'Express on my way to class. This is a routine I could get used to.

My breakfast at the bakery.  These notes are hastily scribbled, so if you happen
to be checking for errors I'm sure there are many...

Additionally, my friends from the BU program and I have found ourselves a few really nice young French people to hang out with. We've seen them a few times this week, and they've been great each time. It is so nice to feel accepted by people our own age here in Paris. The French are not known for their openness and receptiveness to new things and new people, but I've found that though it can be hard to initially get an “in,” once you get in it's well worthwhile. Perhaps the most challenging part about making friends in France is deciding what language to speak! Frequently, French people are just as keen to practice their English as I am to practice my French, so conversation often takes place in two languages, where I speak in halting French and they in accented English. It's funny, and a little awkward, but speaking in English to French friends seems a little counterproductive, n'est-ce pas?

I'm getting the hang of my courses now, the two and a half hour sessions are becoming bearable. I'm thankful most of all for the espresso machine just outside the classrooms, as when the inevitable pause comes about halfway through classes, I join the rest of my classmates in a mad rush for .50 cent espresso. It's not bad, either! I admit to being a bit of a coffee snob, and completely blame my Dad's purist genes, but the coffee is really quite drinkable... for .50 cents, at least.

I had a trip to the Musée d'Orsay on Wednesday afternoon for one of my classes, and I was a bit underwhelmed-- only because the museum is very badly organized at the minute, as they are doing renovations on some areas and so much of the most impressive art (Monet, Manet, Cézanne, etc.) is all hurled pell-mell into one room, with about 3 million tourists all trying to snap a photo. I definitely want to go back when I can, because obviously it's an incredible collection housed in a gorgeous building, but the trip on Wednesday was sort of too much to see with too little time among too many people... A bit too stressful to enjoy.

Model village of Paris at the Orsay which made me feel like a giant!!

On Friday afternoon, I joined about 20 other students in my program for a trip to the Wine Museum of Paris. To be honest, the museum itself is nothing at all to write home about-- a few creepy wax figures pretending to make wine in obscure corners of a dimly lit corridor, et cetera. After a brief tour of the museum, however, we were invited to a dégustation, a wine tasting. More than a tasting, it was a course in how to DO a wine tasting, which was really awesome because as much as I'm partial these days to cheap wine for financial reasons, I desperately want to know what I'm talking about when I talk about wine. We tasted five wines, and perhaps because we are uncultured Americans we all got just a bit giggly, much to the distaste of the staff at the musée. Disapproving Parisians aside, it was a great experience, the best part being that it's completely included in my program and in fact mandatory for class. That's right, to pass my classes I HAVE to go to a free wine tasting. I really have a difficult life, non?

After the wine museum trip, I hopped on a train to visit my aunt and uncle in Montpellier, which is in the south of France, on the Mediterranean sea. They've bought a holiday home there, which they've completely renovated and now rent out to whomever is interested. (If you are, click here!) My grandmother is there with them for about six weeks, so it was a really nice weekend as I got to feel like I was back at home, almost. Unfortunately I felt a bit under the weather over the weekend, and still do, but nonetheless I was able to enjoy markets, another wine tasting, lots of seafood, delicious home-cooked meals, and some good family time. Again, my life is very difficult, I know.  A note about seafood and oysters in particular:  Hemingway famously wrote in his Parisian memoir A Moveable Feast, "As I ate the oysters with their strong taste of the sea and their faint metallic taste that the cold white wine washed away, leaving only the sea taste and the succulent texture, and as I drank their cold liquid from each shell and washed it down with the crisp taste of the wine, I lost the empty feeling and began to feel happy, and to make plans."  Let it be known that this is a really awesome description of how great it is to eat oysters and drink white wine.  No, really.  Very satisfying and VERY delicious.

This was a starter.  Yikes!

My aunt, nana, and me down by the Med.

It's funny how immediately you miss something. I wasn't even on the train towards Montpellier for an hour when I began to miss Paris! It's only been three weeks, but during this time I've truly become attached to the city, even to its people. Though it's not as loud and roaring as New York can be, there's a quiet and pleasant buzz to the place that just can't be found elsewhere. Leaving that vibrancy behind was a strange feeling, because I never realized how tuned into it I was. Nevertheless, my weekend in Montpellier was glorious, and I can't wait til the next time I'm lucky enough to be there.

My dad is coming to Paris for a brief stop-over on Friday night. I'm so fortunate; he travels to Europe frequently for business and so he's just doing a quick stop in Paris for lunch, dinner, and maybe even breakfast if I'm lucky. Can you tell my family loves food? I absolutely cannot wait to see him! He's even bringing me a duffel bag full of things I forgot, thanks to the endless patience of my mother who packed it over the past week according to my numerous e-mail requests.

And so, one more week gone, I can't believe it.   Until next time! xo

First Impressions

Salut!  Rest assured, I have arrived in Paris sans probleme and I've decided that I love Paris more than I even thought I did.

My flight over went smoothly enough, I chatted with a Canadian man who resembled a Degrassi character and I slept most of the way.  The only issue I had with regards to my arrival was carting around my massive case!  I still have calluses on my palms from heaving and pulling and coaxing that stupid huge red thing into submission.  Mais alors!  It is done now (with the help of a tramp at the RER station, admittedly...)  and here I am!

My host parents are wonderful! When I arrived on Sunday they ate their usual Sunday meal of roast chicken and potatoes, but Catherine my host mother took the time to make fish for me separately, because she knows I don't eat meat.  Last Tuesday night she made ratatouille for my housemate and me, completing the meal with a cheese course and dessert.  Pilou, the family's cat, is adorable, but very shy.  Little by little though, I am making progress.  He even let me pet his back yesterday, and I'm just about certain that I heard him purr.  I will get in his good graces, I'm determined!!

Pilou is gray, just like my cats!

The apartment is in the 11th arrondissement, which is a super location.  There is a metro stop right nearby which has FIVE train lines going through it, so it is easy to get around.  The Boston University center, where orientation took place all this week and where classes begin on Monday, is about a 25 minute commute from the house.   Kim and I traveled together this past week, but we somehow went a different way each time and have not yet figured out the fastest way to get there.  The BU Center is in the fifteenth, which is also the location of the Eiffel Tower.  It is surreal, still, to be walking to school and suddenly see the top of the tower peeking over a building or around a corner.  It is surprising and wonderful, but I almost have to pinch myself sometimes because this still doesn't feel real to me!  Too good to be true, as they say.

Orientation was a long week, but the staff are so wonderfully helpful and friendly that their efforts to make us feel comfortable and at home were truly succesful.  My favorite part of the week, it has to be said, was Wednesday afternoon.  The staff treated us to a dégustation de la gastronomie française, a little taste of French gastronomy.  We traveled among four rooms, where a staff member in each room allowed us to taste a wine, cheese, meat, and dessert from one of four regions of France.  The food was delicious (I can only assume the meat was as delicious as the cheese), and it was nice to taste decent wine that we can't quite afford!  We were encouraged to visit the cheese shop, the bakery, the butcher, etc. rather than stopping by the supermarket, and promised that in many cases it's valuable to pay a bit more and enjoy the better quality products.  We'll see if I can swing that, but at the very least I am itching to go to a market next week and buy some veggies and cheese!

The Aquitane region, whose offerings included
a delicious Bordeaux we would never be able to afford...

Sampling the cuisine of the Franche-Compte region, near the Swiss border

After the dégustation, we headed towards the Champ du Mars to see a puppet show beneath the Eiffel Tower.  It was adorable, to see how excited the French kids got over the show.  Though I did well with understanding the show itself, I was embarrassed to find I often didn't know what the kids were responding.  It's difficult, this language thing.  It's just so strange to admit that as a twenty year old college student, I'm not always able to understand what four- and five-year olds are saying here in France.  Instead of getting depressed, though, it just fills me with greater resolve to improve!  Watch this video, if you like, and see if you can tell what they're saying!


Spectacle de Guignol! from Niamh Cloughley on Vimeo.

I know it's toursity and cliche, but isn't
it just so beautiful?

The nightlife in Paris is incredible.  Generally, we like to share a few bottles of wine on the banks of the Seine or perhaps beneath the sparkling Eiffel Tower and then head to the Latin Quarter, the student section of Paris.  Fairly decent wine, suitable for students at least, is incredibly cheap but nightlife in general is expensive.  It's a lesson in itself, learning how to juggle finances appropriately.   A few friends and I sat beneath the glowing Notre Dame the other night, when suddenly we stopped our conversation and had another moment of "Is this real!?"  We already are dreading our return to the monotony of college dorms and bars, and feel quite certain we could get used to sipping wine  beneath a beautiful cathedral in Paris.  I almost burst with pride on Thursday night when not one, but TWO Parisians told me that my French was very good!  Parisians, as a rule, are not friendly... Particularly when it comes to foreigners butchering their language.  Their kind words boosted my confidence incredibly, and I really do feel quite comfortable with the language already.  I can't wait to improve, though.  It is one of my main goals for these four months, I really want to be completely at ease in French conversation... Hopefully I'll get there!

A poor étudiante's humble meal

Notre Dame at night.
Can you see why we love to bask in its glory?

It is the little things about Paris that make me the most happy: coming across an eight-person ensemble that played the most fantastic music in the Metro, treating myself to a warm crepe oozing Nutella on my way home from school, seeing a line out the door at my local bakery, and even taking bike rides now and then along the Seine.  With all the walking and bike riding I've been doing, I can hardly worry about how the rich French diet might affect me.  Plus, my student budget really only allows for some couscous and tuna for dinner, with the occasional baguette or pain au chocolat thrown in for good measure.

Riding my bike along the Right Bank, towards Place de la Concorde

A cute cafe that does a two Euro coffee and croissant deal

Lunch just around the corner from the BU Center.

In other, less happy news, I'm currently battling a really awful case of strep throat.  It began on Thursday night, a little sore throat that I was willing to brush aside as a result of my plane trip.  By Friday afternoon, however, it became clear that I was yet again coming down with a case of strep.  Strep throat is old news to me, I get it about four or five times a year so I'm pretty good at knowing when it's on its way.  Alors, I got the number of an English-speaking doctor in Paris and headed across town last night to hear his opinion.  I left the pharmacie last night with no fewer than five medications in tow, but alas this morning I actually felt worse.  I'm hoping by tonight I'll feel improved, as classes start Monday morning and I really can't imagine attending them in this state.  I've already ducked out of a class trip to Versailles today, about which I was really excited but had to choose to rest and attempt to get better rather than go and potentially get worse.  Terrible timing, I can only assume I picked it up on the plane!

I'm looking forward to classes next week, though I am a bit nervous as I've heard from all sides that the work load is heavy and the courses are difficult enough.  I have class until the 23rd of October, and then I begin a full-time internship on November 2nd.  I'm not sure yet what my internship is, I am supposed to be contacted about an interview somewhere at some point this week.  In some ways, I'm jealous of friends who are studying abroad without much studying... But I guess it's better this way, since I won't struggle too much come January to get back into the flow of things at Villanova.

My bed is calling to me now, I want to rest while I can so that I'm in top shape for class on Monday!  Congratulations if you have made it to here... This was long and probably a bit rambly.  I will improve at writing, I promise!  I will leave you with this video of the ensemble I came across the other day.  I hope it brightens your day as much as it brightened mine!

Orchestra in the Paris Metro from Niamh Cloughley on Vimeo.

A bientot, chers amis xo