Tuesday, March 31, 2009
Sunday, March 29, 2009
Life, or something like it
So I feel as though my journal-writing has been seriously lacking, but I have a great excuse for that: spring has arrived in Paris, and my sitting in front of my laptop is probably the last place in the world that I want to be.
The weather's been lovely the last few weeks, and we FINALLY started daylight savings, so the days are long as well. Arianna and I are taking the initiative and introducing picnics into our lives as well as the lives of our friends, and it's been wildly successful. Assuming the weather holds out, we're planning on picnicking every Tuesday afternoon at a different park (side-note: I originally spelled park with a c instead of a k and stared at it for about 5 minutes wondering why firefox was insisting it was a misspelled word, heh) or place around the city.
Speaking of places. I discovered the Place des Vosges recently. Now that I've been there I feel kind of stupid for not having gone before. I don't even have a reasonable, substantial excuse for not ever have gone, seeing as I live a mere three blocks from the place. But my inexcusable laziness aside, I have now visited the place twice, and it is quickly becoming one of my favorite spots in Paris. Having already spent some time in the Place Dauphine for my Cities and States class, I can't help but appreciate the significance of the Place des Vosges within the history of Paris.
Now moving on to a more serious topic of discussion: this journal. As some of you may know, this journal/blog/diary/site for rambling, ranting & bitching/whatever you want to call it, is a requirement for the Int'l Study Programs office as part of my study abroad experience. It also serves as a way for everyone back home to keep up with the goings-on in my life in Paris, but it is foremost an obligation. One of the things I am supposed to focus on in my journal entries is comparing Paris to the States. However, as I've now lived in Paris for nearly three months, I've become quite content with my life here. I spend less time comparing my life here in France to my life back home. I spend less time worrying about how I'm fitting in as a Parisian, how well I'm assimilating to their culture. I spend less time wondering if this is the life for me. And ultimately, I think it's a good thing. It doesn't mean that I value my life back in Boston/Delaware/wherever I hang my hat any less, because it's still a huge part of who I am. But the fact of the matter is, this is my life at this point in time.
Differences between my values as an American and French values aren't that glaring anymore because I've learned to adapt. I've always been that way. I go with the flow no matter where I am or whom I am amongst. Differences still exist, but differences exist between everyone, from person-to-person. You can't just categorize an entire group of people and their "values" and compare it to another entire group of people's "values". If I'm not mistaken, that's a form of stereotyping, and that's not cool, man.
I know my life here is different from my life in the States, and when I get back to Boston, I know the realization of just how different these two lives are will hit me like a ton of bricks, but for now, I'm just trying to live in the moment, because time is fleeting, and as my days in Paris dwindle down, I think--I know--I'd prefer to enjoy every aspect of life, every breath, every flower, every sunny day, every baguette, and not focus too much on the differences between the US and France. Comparisons will inevitably emerge in my rants and musings within this journal from this point on, but I'm not going to worry about make a point of throwing them into every journal entry from now on. When all is said and done, and I look back on my time here through this blog, I think that my understanding and interpretations of the differences between my two homes will be evident to me and to anyone who reads this. And if that's not enough for the Study Abroad office? Well, I'm fucked. But I won't worry about that now, I'll worry about that when I get back. Because in this life, I don't let things trivial matters like that consume my life. The fact of the matter is, at this moment, the sun is shining and the sky is blue, and I've already spent too much time inside on my computer. I'm gonna go live my life while I still can. Peace.
The weather's been lovely the last few weeks, and we FINALLY started daylight savings, so the days are long as well. Arianna and I are taking the initiative and introducing picnics into our lives as well as the lives of our friends, and it's been wildly successful. Assuming the weather holds out, we're planning on picnicking every Tuesday afternoon at a different park (side-note: I originally spelled park with a c instead of a k and stared at it for about 5 minutes wondering why firefox was insisting it was a misspelled word, heh) or place around the city.
Speaking of places. I discovered the Place des Vosges recently. Now that I've been there I feel kind of stupid for not having gone before. I don't even have a reasonable, substantial excuse for not ever have gone, seeing as I live a mere three blocks from the place. But my inexcusable laziness aside, I have now visited the place twice, and it is quickly becoming one of my favorite spots in Paris. Having already spent some time in the Place Dauphine for my Cities and States class, I can't help but appreciate the significance of the Place des Vosges within the history of Paris.
Now moving on to a more serious topic of discussion: this journal. As some of you may know, this journal/blog/diary/site for rambling, ranting & bitching/whatever you want to call it, is a requirement for the Int'l Study Programs office as part of my study abroad experience. It also serves as a way for everyone back home to keep up with the goings-on in my life in Paris, but it is foremost an obligation. One of the things I am supposed to focus on in my journal entries is comparing Paris to the States. However, as I've now lived in Paris for nearly three months, I've become quite content with my life here. I spend less time comparing my life here in France to my life back home. I spend less time worrying about how I'm fitting in as a Parisian, how well I'm assimilating to their culture. I spend less time wondering if this is the life for me. And ultimately, I think it's a good thing. It doesn't mean that I value my life back in Boston/Delaware/wherever I hang my hat any less, because it's still a huge part of who I am. But the fact of the matter is, this is my life at this point in time.
Differences between my values as an American and French values aren't that glaring anymore because I've learned to adapt. I've always been that way. I go with the flow no matter where I am or whom I am amongst. Differences still exist, but differences exist between everyone, from person-to-person. You can't just categorize an entire group of people and their "values" and compare it to another entire group of people's "values". If I'm not mistaken, that's a form of stereotyping, and that's not cool, man.
I know my life here is different from my life in the States, and when I get back to Boston, I know the realization of just how different these two lives are will hit me like a ton of bricks, but for now, I'm just trying to live in the moment, because time is fleeting, and as my days in Paris dwindle down, I think--I know--I'd prefer to enjoy every aspect of life, every breath, every flower, every sunny day, every baguette, and not focus too much on the differences between the US and France. Comparisons will inevitably emerge in my rants and musings within this journal from this point on, but I'm not going to worry about make a point of throwing them into every journal entry from now on. When all is said and done, and I look back on my time here through this blog, I think that my understanding and interpretations of the differences between my two homes will be evident to me and to anyone who reads this. And if that's not enough for the Study Abroad office? Well, I'm fucked. But I won't worry about that now, I'll worry about that when I get back. Because in this life, I don't let things trivial matters like that consume my life. The fact of the matter is, at this moment, the sun is shining and the sky is blue, and I've already spent too much time inside on my computer. I'm gonna go live my life while I still can. Peace.
Monday, March 23, 2009
This class runs on sangria
I've decided that class trips are my new favorite this in the entire world, and I came to this in Madrid over the weekend.
Let me begin by saying that NU needs to incorporate some class trips (and no, walking tours of Boston do not count) into their courses. Not only was it an amazing time for everyone, including my professor, but it was easily the most effective way to drive home the entire point of the class. The class is called Building States, Building Cities: London, Paris and Madrid. The concept of the class is hard to understand, and perhaps even harder for me to articulate, but it is essentially a class that looks at the history of the urban development of these three cities and determine how its position as the capital within the state changes (or doesn't change) its role as a city. So what better way to understand the history of urban development than to go to the city itself and see for our own eyes how the city has evolved. We do it here in Paris all the time and are all encouraged to visit London and do the same.
This is one of the things that I like best about my life here and studying here compared to Boston. While I would never consider going to AUP full time or never want to go to AUP full time, I really appreciate how much they encourage us to travel and learn new cultures and make the most of our lives while we can. I understand that it's probably a lot easier for a school like AUP to be so accommodating and helpful with this kind of stuff due to its small size, but being here makes me see how much Northeastern (not to mention practically every other university that I know well of) doesn't encourage us to take advantage of everything we have at our fingertips. I'm not saying that NU should suggest that students hop a plane to Madrid for a long weekend because I understand that something like that is a lot less feasible than it is here. But there are so many areas where NU can be more encouraging, or help us broaden our horizons.
AUP has a TON of lecture series or seminars or discussions that are open to all students as well as the public. They are typically on a large array of topics ranging from literary topics, to the environment, to social problems like the Israeli-Palestinian conflict, to a million other topics, and whenever I go to one, there's always a bunch of AUP students there too, regardless of what their area of study happens to be. They're just there to learn something new, broaden their horizons. I feel like Northeastern seriously lacks in encouraging students to learn new things and getting the most out of what the world has to offer.
Ok, NU vs AUP/US vs Europe rant over.
So, Madrid? Absolutely amazing. I loved it there more than I can even begin to describe. Going with my class was a great advantage because I was able to see essentially all of the city and learn about everything that I was seeing as well. Even though we went as a history class, my prof was really helpful in our getting the most of the culture as well. He took us to museums even though they weren't on the itinerary, as well as to his favorite areas for nightlife or dining or dancing because he wanted us to really experience everything Madrid had to offer. It was great.
We saw Guernica at the Reina Sofia and it literally took my breath. I've seen prints of the painting before, but I was in no way prepared for how powerful a painting it truly is. We also saw Bosch's Garden of Earthly Delights which was on lone at the Prado. I really dug it and dug how radical it was for its time.
We ate the most amazing food as well. Tapas is perhaps the greatest thing in the world. Also, half the class became obsessed with croquettas and sangria by the first night, so we had to make sure to somehow incorporate them into every meal. The sangria was pretty easy to incorporate into our eating habits, but we had to get a bit creative in where we ate and what we ordered so that croquettas fit into the aesthetics of the meal. We enjoyed it though. Sangria became such a significant motif for the trip that we're even considering getting t-shirts made up that say "This class runs on sangria". Which is true. The class did in fact run on sangria. All the walking tours and educational aspects of our days were essentially just things that we did in between when we got to sit down in a plaza and order some jarras de sangria.
Man, the weather was perhaps the best part though. 27 degrees (75 degrees F) everyday and not a cloud in the sky. I was so excited for really warm weather that I didn't even bring a jacket with me. Rebellious, I know.
We all have the Madrid blues now, though. I need to go back to Spain as soon as it's financially possible. I don't think I'll make it back this semester, and I really don't have a clue when the next opportune time will be, but I'm going back as soon as I get a chance.
On another note: siestas. Man, whoever came up with that idea is a genius. Seriously.
Let me begin by saying that NU needs to incorporate some class trips (and no, walking tours of Boston do not count) into their courses. Not only was it an amazing time for everyone, including my professor, but it was easily the most effective way to drive home the entire point of the class. The class is called Building States, Building Cities: London, Paris and Madrid. The concept of the class is hard to understand, and perhaps even harder for me to articulate, but it is essentially a class that looks at the history of the urban development of these three cities and determine how its position as the capital within the state changes (or doesn't change) its role as a city. So what better way to understand the history of urban development than to go to the city itself and see for our own eyes how the city has evolved. We do it here in Paris all the time and are all encouraged to visit London and do the same.
This is one of the things that I like best about my life here and studying here compared to Boston. While I would never consider going to AUP full time or never want to go to AUP full time, I really appreciate how much they encourage us to travel and learn new cultures and make the most of our lives while we can. I understand that it's probably a lot easier for a school like AUP to be so accommodating and helpful with this kind of stuff due to its small size, but being here makes me see how much Northeastern (not to mention practically every other university that I know well of) doesn't encourage us to take advantage of everything we have at our fingertips. I'm not saying that NU should suggest that students hop a plane to Madrid for a long weekend because I understand that something like that is a lot less feasible than it is here. But there are so many areas where NU can be more encouraging, or help us broaden our horizons.
AUP has a TON of lecture series or seminars or discussions that are open to all students as well as the public. They are typically on a large array of topics ranging from literary topics, to the environment, to social problems like the Israeli-Palestinian conflict, to a million other topics, and whenever I go to one, there's always a bunch of AUP students there too, regardless of what their area of study happens to be. They're just there to learn something new, broaden their horizons. I feel like Northeastern seriously lacks in encouraging students to learn new things and getting the most out of what the world has to offer.
Ok, NU vs AUP/US vs Europe rant over.
So, Madrid? Absolutely amazing. I loved it there more than I can even begin to describe. Going with my class was a great advantage because I was able to see essentially all of the city and learn about everything that I was seeing as well. Even though we went as a history class, my prof was really helpful in our getting the most of the culture as well. He took us to museums even though they weren't on the itinerary, as well as to his favorite areas for nightlife or dining or dancing because he wanted us to really experience everything Madrid had to offer. It was great.
We saw Guernica at the Reina Sofia and it literally took my breath. I've seen prints of the painting before, but I was in no way prepared for how powerful a painting it truly is. We also saw Bosch's Garden of Earthly Delights which was on lone at the Prado. I really dug it and dug how radical it was for its time.
We ate the most amazing food as well. Tapas is perhaps the greatest thing in the world. Also, half the class became obsessed with croquettas and sangria by the first night, so we had to make sure to somehow incorporate them into every meal. The sangria was pretty easy to incorporate into our eating habits, but we had to get a bit creative in where we ate and what we ordered so that croquettas fit into the aesthetics of the meal. We enjoyed it though. Sangria became such a significant motif for the trip that we're even considering getting t-shirts made up that say "This class runs on sangria". Which is true. The class did in fact run on sangria. All the walking tours and educational aspects of our days were essentially just things that we did in between when we got to sit down in a plaza and order some jarras de sangria.
Man, the weather was perhaps the best part though. 27 degrees (75 degrees F) everyday and not a cloud in the sky. I was so excited for really warm weather that I didn't even bring a jacket with me. Rebellious, I know.
We all have the Madrid blues now, though. I need to go back to Spain as soon as it's financially possible. I don't think I'll make it back this semester, and I really don't have a clue when the next opportune time will be, but I'm going back as soon as I get a chance.
On another note: siestas. Man, whoever came up with that idea is a genius. Seriously.
Wednesday, March 18, 2009
Ahh, oui, le jour de Saint-Patrick, je le connais
So apparently St. Patrick's Day isn't as big in Europe as it is in the States. I learned this yesterday. According the French people that I spoke with, St. Pat's is just like any other day, and in no way a justification to get wasted and act completely inappropriate for 24 hours. My professors didn't understand why I acted as if it were blasphemy that they scheduled exams on St. Patrick's Day, and they definitely didn't understand or appreciate when I ranted and whined about why we shouldn't even have to come to class on St. Pat's. My French prof seemed to get into St. Pat's a bit, but her idea of celebrating the gloriousness that is this holiday was calling on students to tell the story of St. Patrick in French. Who knows the real story of Patrick? Something about snakes, right? Not my idea of fun and celebration.
Also, throughout the day, I observed who at AUP was wearing green and who wasn't and found that they only people donning their Catholic Green yesterday were Americans, but not even all the Americans, just the visiting students like me and my friends. I suppose I've just grown accustomed to the craziness in Boston on St. Pat's, because I was really disappointed in the lack of celebration.
Guinness and Kilkenny didn't flow through faucets, there was no loud parade barreling through the city, no cops were sharing beers with under-aged kids, nothing. There weren't even any specials on Guinness or Kilkenny at any of the Irish pubs I stopped into. Is it just me, or is that not crazy? I saw Derek at around noon in our London, Paris and Madrid class and I high-fived him for wearing his green Northeastern shirt with the shamrock on it. He asked me why it was noon and we weren't shammered yet. I replied, "Europe", and frowned. So yeah, St. Patrick's Day in Europe really made me miss Boston and the States more than I would ever imagine. Go figure.
Also, throughout the day, I observed who at AUP was wearing green and who wasn't and found that they only people donning their Catholic Green yesterday were Americans, but not even all the Americans, just the visiting students like me and my friends. I suppose I've just grown accustomed to the craziness in Boston on St. Pat's, because I was really disappointed in the lack of celebration.
Guinness and Kilkenny didn't flow through faucets, there was no loud parade barreling through the city, no cops were sharing beers with under-aged kids, nothing. There weren't even any specials on Guinness or Kilkenny at any of the Irish pubs I stopped into. Is it just me, or is that not crazy? I saw Derek at around noon in our London, Paris and Madrid class and I high-fived him for wearing his green Northeastern shirt with the shamrock on it. He asked me why it was noon and we weren't shammered yet. I replied, "Europe", and frowned. So yeah, St. Patrick's Day in Europe really made me miss Boston and the States more than I would ever imagine. Go figure.
Sunday, March 15, 2009
So apparently, Paris really IS nice in the spring
Spring has officially hit Paris, and just in case anyone was wondering, it's true what they say, there's nothing like Paris in the springtime. When I was in Rome, I quickly became attached to the beautiful, temperate Italian climate, and got bummed out thinking that I would have to endure a few more weeks of rainy Paris. But to my surprise, it has been absolutely beautiful since we got back from spring break. While it's only been in the mid to upper 50s, it has felt so much warmer, which I would say is one of the biggest differences between Paris weather and Boston weather. The mid 50s in Boston still feels a bit chilly because there's always a slight chill in the air, or because the wind is blowing so freaking hard that you can't help but feel cold, but here it feels so great. On the plus-side, spring has brought the Parisians out of their stuffy apartments and into the city. People are picnicking all over the place, they're hanging out on the quais du seine, they're walking around, I've seen like 12 neighbors who I've never seen before. It's been a really nice change from the cold, drab Paris that I've experienced the last two months.
On the downside, the warm weather has also brought the tourists, and I'm already resenting them. I never understood the Parisians' aversion to tourists, but now I totally get it. I've found that you can easily spot a tourist, particularly an American tourist, because they don't wear jackets when it's warm enough to go without one (plus their tendency to wear sensible footwear, but that's another story). I don't understand why, and I definitely don't understand how, but the French ALWAYS wear coats. This weekend it was 65 degrees, felt like 70, and they were walking around in wool coats. I could understand if they wear them so that they have something warm when the sun goes down and the temperature drops, but they don't even take them off and drape them over their arms during the day. It really baffles me how they can endure that kind of heat. I mean, I wear my jacket all the time too so that I fit in here (yeah, I'm assimilating, I know), but I just about die of heat exhaustion in doing so. It kinda sucks, man. Not that I miss seeing Americans don their shorts and flip-flops at the first sight of spring, but seriously, it wouldn't hurt the French to shed a layer or two. but anyway, that's enough complaining from me.
In other news, I just bought tickets to the France-Lithuania world cup qualifying match and I'm pretty stoked about it! Apparently, Lithuania is doing much better than anyone anticipated, while France is currently having a pretty shitty year. Annnnd, if France loses this game, they are not going to the World Cup next year, so I could potentially get to witness an historical moment in l'histoire du foot-ball francais. Also, the sports director guy here at AUP told me that if I wear Lithuanian colors or a Lithuania t-shirt to the game, it's quite possible that I would get killed because of it. So, yeah, football's kinda serious here in Europe. Who knew, right?
Oh, and I'm also going to Madrid this weekend which is cool as well.
On the downside, the warm weather has also brought the tourists, and I'm already resenting them. I never understood the Parisians' aversion to tourists, but now I totally get it. I've found that you can easily spot a tourist, particularly an American tourist, because they don't wear jackets when it's warm enough to go without one (plus their tendency to wear sensible footwear, but that's another story). I don't understand why, and I definitely don't understand how, but the French ALWAYS wear coats. This weekend it was 65 degrees, felt like 70, and they were walking around in wool coats. I could understand if they wear them so that they have something warm when the sun goes down and the temperature drops, but they don't even take them off and drape them over their arms during the day. It really baffles me how they can endure that kind of heat. I mean, I wear my jacket all the time too so that I fit in here (yeah, I'm assimilating, I know), but I just about die of heat exhaustion in doing so. It kinda sucks, man. Not that I miss seeing Americans don their shorts and flip-flops at the first sight of spring, but seriously, it wouldn't hurt the French to shed a layer or two. but anyway, that's enough complaining from me.
In other news, I just bought tickets to the France-Lithuania world cup qualifying match and I'm pretty stoked about it! Apparently, Lithuania is doing much better than anyone anticipated, while France is currently having a pretty shitty year. Annnnd, if France loses this game, they are not going to the World Cup next year, so I could potentially get to witness an historical moment in l'histoire du foot-ball francais. Also, the sports director guy here at AUP told me that if I wear Lithuanian colors or a Lithuania t-shirt to the game, it's quite possible that I would get killed because of it. So, yeah, football's kinda serious here in Europe. Who knew, right?
Oh, and I'm also going to Madrid this weekend which is cool as well.
Thursday, March 12, 2009
I'm back, baby!
Yeah, so I realize it's been a while since I wrote anything (thanks for the reminder, Tara), but my life has been mad hectic since I left for Rome.
I guess I can cover Rome now. Sooooo, part two of my wonderful vacances de printemps was spent visiting Dennis in Rome, and let me just say, 5 days of Italy was not nearly enough. I fell in love with the country from day one. I took the train from Paris to Rome because I wanted to have a real eurotrip experience that I feel you can only really experience by choosing to take the train instead of plane. But anyway, 16 hours on the train wasn't exactly an ideal way to spend over half a day, but getting to travel through Pisa and Tuscany and the Italian countryside was totally worth it. I fell in love immediately. Rome did not disappoint either. From the minute we stepped out of the metro and looked up to see some Romans ruins just chillin in the middle of the city I was in awe. Now, I love Paris--don't get me wrong. And one of the things that makes me love Paris in a way that I could never love an American city is how old it is. The first time I walked from my apartment in the 4th to university in the 7th, I felt like everything I saw, touched, walked on, etc was an antique. Like, I would walk past Hotel de Ville, and to think that that at least parts of the building have existed for nearly 700 years totally blew my mind. And I'm not ashamed to say that it still kinda does blow my mind. However, walking through Rome and being able to see for my own eyes and physically touch something that was built 1500 years ago REALLY blew my mind.
I was equally in awe later that day when I visited the Colosseum, the Roman Forum, Palatine Hill and the Imperial Forum. In a way it reminded me of seeing the Mayan ruins in Mexico, but somehow way cooler than the Mayans, most likely because I thought Italy was way cooler than Mexico, but that's a story for another time.
Later, while waiting
for Dennis to get out of studio, I was sitting in the Piazza Campodiglio just soaking up everything around me, when I look to my right, and see a 20-piece brass band warming up. I didn't think it was a holiday, and there wasn't really anything around them to make me think it was any kind of special event. But nevertheless, they were there. After about 10 minutes of getting warm, they began to play what I imagine was the Italian national anthem, because within the first couple of notes played, all the Italians flocked to the band and began singing along in the most nationalistic was I have ever seen anybody sing anything in my life. I think I even saw a few men cry. No lie. Afterwards they played a piece from some opera. I'm not sure what it was, but I definitely recognized it. This time they had an opera singer singing along. It was crazy. I don't know how I was lucky enough to be able to be sitting there in the right place at the right time to witness that randomness, but I was really happy I got to. I had been in Rome for all of 6 hours and I already witnessed one of the coolest things I've ever seen in my life. It made my impression of Rome even greater than it already was.
When I met up with Dennis, he was eager to show me around. Not to brag, but choosing to go to Rome for holiday because I knew I had a place to crash was probably the most brilliant idea I've had in a really long time. But not only did it work out economically, but I soon realized that picking Dennis was also brilliant because as an architect major, he knew sooooo much about the city. As we walked from sight to sight I was able to point to different buildings and things and could explain to me exactly why they looked the way they did, and how old that makes them, and why they were built, and all kinds of crazy cool facts that I definitely wouldn't find in any guidebook. So, in other words, I'm a genius. Yep. We also got lost a couple times, but I absolutely loved it. As I'm sure I've mentioned in more than one blog post, one of my favorite things to do here in Europe is wonder around until I'm lost, and then try to find myself again, because I honestly believe it's the best way to see and experience really, really cool things that you would never get to if you always follow the beaten path. It was the same in Rome.
When we got home we were a couple hours early for dinner so we had a nice salad--Dennis made his own salad dressing, I was quite impressed--and he introduced me to Italian wine. I brought a bottle on French wine with me as a thank-you for letting me crash with him, so we were able to compare the two. After our salads we headed to a pizzeria that was supposedly the second best pizzeria in Rome and split a mushroom, sausage, olive pizza. Not to state the obvious, but yeah, it was pretty damn good pizza. The strangest part, though, was the fact that the
olives on the pizza were whole black olives, pits included. So to eat the olives we had to pick them off the pizza, eat them, spit out the pits, and then proceed with the rest of the pizza. I'm not exactly up with all of the cultural customs of Italy, but I can't imagine how somebody hasn't at least mentioned to them that it would make more sense to cut the olives first, or at least de-pit them. I don't know. It was still amazing pizza. The one thing that I both love and hate about pizza here in Europe (and this applies to every place in Europe I've been so far) is that the pizza is really fancy, and gourmet. You can't get real American pizza anywhere; every place that sells pizza, even Pizza Hut here in Paris, sells small pizza with crazy toppings and super special crust, ect. There's a lot of places that sell "American Pizza" or "Pizza Americain" or "Pizza Americano" as well, but in all of these places, their definition of American pizza is usually just something like plain pepperoni pizza, not a big-ass 16" (40cm?) pizza with shitty sauce and stringy cheese that might taste terrible under most circumstances, but tastes like the greatest thing in the world at three in the morning when you've had to much... we'll say "juice", to drink. I miss it now, but I know that once I get back to the States and eat real American pizza for the first time I'm going to be incredibly disappointed that the cheese is just stringy mozz and not delicious camembert or brie or gruyere. But that's life, I guess.
Dennis had the next morning free so we walked to Vatican City and did the whole Vatican thing. It goes without saying that
I had a really great time and loved everything that I saw, but after four hours of looking at Catholic art and sculptures and frescoes and urns and a million other thinks I kinda wanted to poke my eyes out. So we left and ate lunch. Because food, especially Italian food, never makes me want to poke me eyes out. Dennis and I made pasta for dinner that night and I was once again impressed by Dennis' ability to make his own pasta sauce. I also explained to him that the long, round bread that comes in a paper bag that he eats with dinner every night is actually a French baguette. He was rather surprised. I was surprised that he had no idea what a baguette really was.
I left a couple days later and was really upset to have to leave, but nevertheless happy to get home to my apartment and back to the life that I've grown so accustomed to. Also, I missed fresh croissant. I had a brioche crema just to be able to compare the two, and while I was highly impressed by the idea of stuffing a croissant with cream, it in no way compared to the deliciousness that is a fresh croissant from my favorite boulangerie.
So, long story short, Italy was amazing. And if I ever do this whole study abroad thing again, I really can see myself choosing somewhere in Italy. But, the fact of the matter is, being away from Paris just makes me realize all the more that Paris has become my home within these last two months, and it's the one place, above all, that I truly feel at home.
I guess I can cover Rome now. Sooooo, part two of my wonderful vacances de printemps was spent visiting Dennis in Rome, and let me just say, 5 days of Italy was not nearly enough. I fell in love with the country from day one. I took the train from Paris to Rome because I wanted to have a real eurotrip experience that I feel you can only really experience by choosing to take the train instead of plane. But anyway, 16 hours on the train wasn't exactly an ideal way to spend over half a day, but getting to travel through Pisa and Tuscany and the Italian countryside was totally worth it. I fell in love immediately. Rome did not disappoint either. From the minute we stepped out of the metro and looked up to see some Romans ruins just chillin in the middle of the city I was in awe. Now, I love Paris--don't get me wrong. And one of the things that makes me love Paris in a way that I could never love an American city is how old it is. The first time I walked from my apartment in the 4th to university in the 7th, I felt like everything I saw, touched, walked on, etc was an antique. Like, I would walk past Hotel de Ville, and to think that that at least parts of the building have existed for nearly 700 years totally blew my mind. And I'm not ashamed to say that it still kinda does blow my mind. However, walking through Rome and being able to see for my own eyes and physically touch something that was built 1500 years ago REALLY blew my mind.
I was equally in awe later that day when I visited the Colosseum, the Roman Forum, Palatine Hill and the Imperial Forum. In a way it reminded me of seeing the Mayan ruins in Mexico, but somehow way cooler than the Mayans, most likely because I thought Italy was way cooler than Mexico, but that's a story for another time.
Later, while waiting
for Dennis to get out of studio, I was sitting in the Piazza Campodiglio just soaking up everything around me, when I look to my right, and see a 20-piece brass band warming up. I didn't think it was a holiday, and there wasn't really anything around them to make me think it was any kind of special event. But nevertheless, they were there. After about 10 minutes of getting warm, they began to play what I imagine was the Italian national anthem, because within the first couple of notes played, all the Italians flocked to the band and began singing along in the most nationalistic was I have ever seen anybody sing anything in my life. I think I even saw a few men cry. No lie. Afterwards they played a piece from some opera. I'm not sure what it was, but I definitely recognized it. This time they had an opera singer singing along. It was crazy. I don't know how I was lucky enough to be able to be sitting there in the right place at the right time to witness that randomness, but I was really happy I got to. I had been in Rome for all of 6 hours and I already witnessed one of the coolest things I've ever seen in my life. It made my impression of Rome even greater than it already was.When I met up with Dennis, he was eager to show me around. Not to brag, but choosing to go to Rome for holiday because I knew I had a place to crash was probably the most brilliant idea I've had in a really long time. But not only did it work out economically, but I soon realized that picking Dennis was also brilliant because as an architect major, he knew sooooo much about the city. As we walked from sight to sight I was able to point to different buildings and things and could explain to me exactly why they looked the way they did, and how old that makes them, and why they were built, and all kinds of crazy cool facts that I definitely wouldn't find in any guidebook. So, in other words, I'm a genius. Yep. We also got lost a couple times, but I absolutely loved it. As I'm sure I've mentioned in more than one blog post, one of my favorite things to do here in Europe is wonder around until I'm lost, and then try to find myself again, because I honestly believe it's the best way to see and experience really, really cool things that you would never get to if you always follow the beaten path. It was the same in Rome.
When we got home we were a couple hours early for dinner so we had a nice salad--Dennis made his own salad dressing, I was quite impressed--and he introduced me to Italian wine. I brought a bottle on French wine with me as a thank-you for letting me crash with him, so we were able to compare the two. After our salads we headed to a pizzeria that was supposedly the second best pizzeria in Rome and split a mushroom, sausage, olive pizza. Not to state the obvious, but yeah, it was pretty damn good pizza. The strangest part, though, was the fact that the
olives on the pizza were whole black olives, pits included. So to eat the olives we had to pick them off the pizza, eat them, spit out the pits, and then proceed with the rest of the pizza. I'm not exactly up with all of the cultural customs of Italy, but I can't imagine how somebody hasn't at least mentioned to them that it would make more sense to cut the olives first, or at least de-pit them. I don't know. It was still amazing pizza. The one thing that I both love and hate about pizza here in Europe (and this applies to every place in Europe I've been so far) is that the pizza is really fancy, and gourmet. You can't get real American pizza anywhere; every place that sells pizza, even Pizza Hut here in Paris, sells small pizza with crazy toppings and super special crust, ect. There's a lot of places that sell "American Pizza" or "Pizza Americain" or "Pizza Americano" as well, but in all of these places, their definition of American pizza is usually just something like plain pepperoni pizza, not a big-ass 16" (40cm?) pizza with shitty sauce and stringy cheese that might taste terrible under most circumstances, but tastes like the greatest thing in the world at three in the morning when you've had to much... we'll say "juice", to drink. I miss it now, but I know that once I get back to the States and eat real American pizza for the first time I'm going to be incredibly disappointed that the cheese is just stringy mozz and not delicious camembert or brie or gruyere. But that's life, I guess.Dennis had the next morning free so we walked to Vatican City and did the whole Vatican thing. It goes without saying that
I had a really great time and loved everything that I saw, but after four hours of looking at Catholic art and sculptures and frescoes and urns and a million other thinks I kinda wanted to poke my eyes out. So we left and ate lunch. Because food, especially Italian food, never makes me want to poke me eyes out. Dennis and I made pasta for dinner that night and I was once again impressed by Dennis' ability to make his own pasta sauce. I also explained to him that the long, round bread that comes in a paper bag that he eats with dinner every night is actually a French baguette. He was rather surprised. I was surprised that he had no idea what a baguette really was.I left a couple days later and was really upset to have to leave, but nevertheless happy to get home to my apartment and back to the life that I've grown so accustomed to. Also, I missed fresh croissant. I had a brioche crema just to be able to compare the two, and while I was highly impressed by the idea of stuffing a croissant with cream, it in no way compared to the deliciousness that is a fresh croissant from my favorite boulangerie.
So, long story short, Italy was amazing. And if I ever do this whole study abroad thing again, I really can see myself choosing somewhere in Italy. But, the fact of the matter is, being away from Paris just makes me realize all the more that Paris has become my home within these last two months, and it's the one place, above all, that I truly feel at home.
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