Shit Son, that Train Ride WAS Longer then Lauren's Penis

So, here's my much delayed account of Glory, Wonder and Slendor that was Berln. I promise, I have many good, perfectly handy and reasonable excuses for my tardiness. If you care about my side of the "Mysterious Dividing Train Mystery", you should know where to look.


So, on to travelogue! We pull into Berlin last Friday, 9:00 am. We walked through a moderately sleepy, but gorgeous, moderately rainy Berlin. I think Berlin does the rain well -- it doesn't distract from it's restrained, enduring beauty.

After meeting our most gracious hostess, we walk through an adorable market and make it to Chez. Yittz.

Oh the Glory! Oh the Splendor! Wonder, Joy and Awe! It's a house. With a kitchen. And real beds. AND SHOWERS THAT DON"T SWITCH OFF EVERY 3 MINUTES. Seriously, the shower even gets hot -- steamingly hot. I know, it was intense.

After a holy shower, and some paper writing, we fall asleep. Five hours later, we emerge for more internet and supurb lentil lasagna.

Yitz and Hannah are lucky. Not only are their parents charming, intelligent, wonderful people, but they can cook. I know I've been craving home-cooked food, but shit son, this was beyond fantastic.

We meet up with Kristin, whom Lauren met her last time in Berlin. To sum up that evening, we each drank 2 liters -- yea, as in, we get 2 liter bottles of soda for parties, only beer -- making it home in time to say hello to Brian as he read his morning paper.

Repeat afternoon one: sleep, "work on papers," eat scrumptious food, go out. Saturday night, Kristin was sick, so Lauren and I embark on our own adventure.

WE FOUND THE BEST BAR IN THE WORLD.

Sorry for the caps, but honestly -- best bar ever.

When Lauren returned from Berlin the first time, she kept telling me about this place, and she was right: it was the hippie homeland of Berlin. It was amazing.

The Bar of the Gods is at the top story on an artist colony. On the fourth floor we found an exhibit of Alexandre Rodin. Mind blowing. Devestating. It made me think, This THIS is why I paint, why I act, why I participate in art: because day I want to be part of the creation of work of this caliber.

Back to the Bar: it's basically a bunch of couches on a porch, with heaters, gratuitous disco balls, and tap beer. Obviously, I was in love.

As if the night could get better, we go next door for live music, at Zapatos. It was billed as jazzfunkpolkareageefolkpop. How could we pass that up. It was really good. Really really good. We got miny German lesson from the random shit/drum playing chick. Lauren restrained herself and did not throw herself on the saxophone player. It took some self control, let me tell you.

After telling some creepy English dude that I wouldn't sleep with him, no matter how hard he tried, we decided that donner kabas were in order. He kept saying everything was 'eehlahreush. Then he called us his American Whores, so we let him buy us only one more drink before we peaced.

God created donner kabbabs to prove that he loves us and wants to have a delicious, but well-balanced diet. I about shat myself.

And, we met some friendly Germans, one of whom may come to visit me at some point. I'm not holding my breathe, but hey, that'd be cool.

This past friday night, as I embarked on my failed dated attempt, somene in the kitchen someone said to me, " I don't know how you do it -- some people just meet guys all over the world. I can't."

Uh . . stay up until hours of the night drinking heavily? Or smoking at hookah bars? Don't know what to tell ya kid. . . . Honestly, I have no idea. Not that it ever works out, but that's a horse of a different color.

Anywho, we stumble in at a quarter past 8:00, again greeting Yitz' parents, as we fall in to bed. But, not before we all made plans for our awakening at noon for roasted chicken. Thank God the food was so good or I wouldn't have been able to talk myself into getting up. But, of course, it was earth moving and I didn't care that I'd had less then 3 hours of sleep and was still rather drunk.

After more sleeping and failed attempts to write paper (noticing a pattern yet?) we meet with a non-puking Kristin for the wham-bam speedy version of a tour of Berlin, taking an Oh So NEEeededd journey into the Tier Garten. Krisitin is a goddess and I shall forever be in her debt. All give due praise and glory to her wonder.

But seriously. So, after our brief sojourn to the woods, we ran all over everywhere, finally sprinting across the train station to catch a fateful train. Lauren and joked that maybe we should do that more often as a form of exercise. It was pretty entertaining.

The train proved, shall we say, adventurous? But in the end, I came to appreciate the blatant reaffirmation that there are good people out there. Genuine, wonderful, competant people. I foget that sometimes, or more specifically, forget true nature of humanity, if only given a chance. . Basically, it was life affirming, and I needed that: a mental shakeup, if only for the homecoming it produced.

So, Ireland this weekend? Right on.

i lost my wife!

so, our overnight train from berlin to paris split midway through the journey. some cars were going to paris, some were going to zurich.

i bet you're wondering how i knew that.

mia and i explored the train some. had a beer in the dining car. found a good study space in the bicycle storage place in car number thirty. we'd settled in to work on our papers. i went back to our car, number ninety-three, to get my laptop, food, and pillows. i was going to pick up coffee on the way back.

but the way back was not meant to be. i was tooling along toward car 30 when a conductor stopped me and said some shit in german. turns out i was in the last car of the train. the other half of the train, mia included, was going to zurich.

ohfuckohfuckohfuck.

i explain to a few different DB dudes what's happened. they're nothing they can really do; apparently the other train has no phone. besides, what would i say to her if we spoke? so you're going to zurich, great! bring me back a souvenir? unhelpful.

things were, as you can imagine, pretty damn lame. i was helpless and worried about mia to the point of being nauseous. but at least there was mike, this dude from san francisco who helped me communicate with the conductors, then let me use his handheld to send an e-mail to mia. he reminded me that, hey, at least i'd gone back to our car to get some stuff. if i hadn't... well, let's not think about that. and he also pointed out that mia has one ot the best "dog ate my homework" stories ever. sorry, professor, my paper's not done because i accidentally went to switzerland. can i get it to you tomorrow?

so maybe i'm not cut out for trains? i've had two strikes so far: first illicitly leaving paris, and now losing ma femme. the next train mishap is sure to be a doozy. ooh, maybe i could accidentally leave the EU! or lose my passport!

but yes. the conductors later told me that mia ("your girlfriend," as they called her... oh for cute is all i have to say about germanically-compounded words) would get off in frankfort, then take a train to paris. that's not quite what happened, but i'll leave you waiting on the edge of your seats until you can hear her tale.

as for berlin, things were chill. didn't do a lot of sightseeing, since i'd already done it and we had papers to write. on friday night we went with kristin to her east side sports bar, and returned to the hostel danklemann at about 7am. [oh, and i'd like to stress that we each drank two liters of beer. two. liters. you know how much soda is in a 2-liter bottle? that much, but in beer.] we chatted with brian for a bit, as he was already up for the day.

and when we went to go out saturday night, we assured brian and linda that we wouldn't be out until 7 again. and we weren't! we were out until 8:15am.

Obviously, the Paper Writing is Going Well

Chez Yitz
14:57
Saturday, Oct. 22, 2005

So, after drinking 2 liters of tasty German beer a piece -- and thereby entire disproving the theory that you can't get drunk with the metric system -- Lauren and I decided for reasons surpassing understanding, to recount past love affairs. We're surrounded by Germans, speaking German, supposedly oblivious to two rather inebriated Americans. Here we go racking our brains to recall our past lovers, giving each their due two minutes of thought, being a bit loud, of course. I won't speak of Lauren to save her chastity, but it took me two hands. And I almost forgot someone. I blame the tasty German beer.

We finish this exercise in sketchiness, when Martin leans over and says, "By the way, you know that most Germans can speak English, or at least understand it right? We all take it in school." Good times.

Then I thought someone said "Chicken Fuck" which lead to me trying to ascertain where the hell they'd picked up that American phrase, much laughter though none of us were sure at what. 20 minutes later I realize he'd said "Chicken Run." Oh Berlin.

More later, in a post that's sure to be longer then Lauren's penis.

Champagne, Chateaux, and Chicha

In Class
Obviously Not Paying a Damn Bit of Attention
Seriously, I Didn't Do ANY of the Reading
Drinking Coffee
Wanting a Cig
Almost Over, Almost Over . . .
18:50
10.18.05

Champagne, Châteaux, and Chica

How about we don’t even get into the drama/excuses/reasons I haven’t updated this bitch in a long time. I’m doing it now, so let’s just get over it and move on, kay? I know you’re all dying to know what the hell we’ve been up to, right? Losing sleep, can’t eat, driven to distraction, crying inside, wanting, WANTING to know.

Calm down dude. Let me fill you in.

Champagne: It what has become a bit of a tradition, we’ve taking to going out and getting quite shitty on Thursdays. Seems to be a bit of a thing here: we were not the only ones drinking wine straight from the bottle, on the Metro, at 8:00 pm on a Thursday. I swear to you. This last Thursday we went to an “international party” because the cards that littered the Cité were annoying as fuck, and because they happened to contain two magic words: open bar.

By we, I’m don’t mean just Lauren and I. We had quite a U of C turnout, and I think that it must be some sort of unstated requirement that to come to the Paris program you have to dress an iota better then your average U of C etudient. Needless to say, we all looked hot.

And, free champagne didn’t hurt either. In the end, it was a bit disappointing. There were 5,305 people there, each with their own contingency of other international students, all wearing little identifying country nametags. It was nearly impossible to make it to the bar for those free drinks, and once you got that hard won coup de champagne, it was hard to meet people since everyone was clamoring for the bar. So you wade your way out, trying to not to spill or burn yourself or others, and by the time you can breath again, it’s time to turn around to try and wrangle your way back to the bar, hoping to catch the bartenders eye so that he’ll fill your glass instead of the 62 other glasses being held out in his direction. It was a bit intense.

But, the music was good – or at least loud and full of bass – so after the free bar ended, I actually *gasp* payed for a drink, and danced. We had a nice little group going, getting our groove on. The most hilarious part was the that there were these little islands raised three or four feet off the ground, complete with poles for dancing with. At first there was your average group of slutty-ish females trying to get laid. BUT THEN there were some pretty cute boys of unidentifiable European origins shaking their asses, using the pole, the whole nine yards, with looks on their faces that said, “I am the hottest thing in this club. Oh, just watch me rub my ass on this pole,” It was hilarious. Disturbing, but hilarious.

Châteaux: It was a Castleicious weekend. The whole thing left me feeling quite plebian. But at least I’m being bettered by the culture of my superiors, right?

Friday we visited le Château de Blois. I took many, many pictures but as I seem to have left my computer cord at home (possibly, Alii doesn’t seem to want to answer my questions about its whereabouts). I can’t get them on the computer yet. At some point, yes.

I won’t get into all the historical stuff, as you aren’t in this class and probably don’t care. The best part was our guide: Steve, a former U of C student. He called people out for nodding when they weren’t really paying attention, made fun of us for needing coffee to wake up at 11:00 am. (In our defense, the bus left at 8:00 am which is damn far cry from having class at 4:30.) He made the castles very enjoyable and approachable while not diminishing the gradeure that was all around us. It made me want to be a tour guide. It would be the greatest job ever if I were to live in France for a bit, but then again I’d have to learn more French history. But that’s cool.

At le Chateau de Chambord, we ate. Oh, did we eat. Fois gras, carnard, cake au chocolat, café, vin, vin, vin. It was amazing beyond all belief. When all first sat down, there were bottles of white and red wine on the table. Being the responsible young adults we are, we all take half a glass of each to taste it, no one being greedy. This killed a bottle, and low and behold, another one appeared. And another, and another. Instantly, everyone’s filling their glasses, drinking deeply and getting to know those sitting around them. I really enjoyed getting to know some of the other people in the program that I haven’t hung out with yet, while also having a great time with Lauren, Nina, Lance and Monica. Poor Monica – she’s not a big drinker, and once she told us that, we all made it our mission to keep her glass as full as possible. Two hours later, she’s rather sloshed, we’re all socially lubricated, and hey, let’s go look at this castle.

The 26 of us emerge from our castle dining room, giggling, laughing and generally being a bit drunkenly at 2:30 in the afternoon. Steve tells us to settle down: “You are all being very American right now.” That was all he had to say: we all suddenly tried to be as cultured as possible. But, since he’d had a bit to drink too, it didn’t last long. So with wit and insight abounding, we stumbled around the castle, which was amazing. Again, pictures will be forthcoming at some point. So far, it's definately my favorite chateau.


Did you know that you can buy a French chateau for not too much? I mean, compared to say, buying land and building a house. I'm not kidding. You can buy this huge catalog with all the castles that are up for sale. There are so many of them -- you weren't cool unless you used your serfs to build a monument. The only problem with owning one now is heating it. It's not the actually of buying the chateau that kills the wallet, it's the upkeep. Yea, I want one.


Sunday, Lauren and I went to le Chateau de Versaille. Oh my God. To repeat: Mon Dieu! If you’re going to be the absolute ruler, and build castles and generally live like a God, you want to do it like Louis XIV. I want to build myself a little hut on the garden grounds somewhere and live there for while. It blew my mind. The scale of it all, the sheer gaudynes was enough to make any old-money Tylerite feel a little smaller in the world. Beautiful – I mean, maybe he was a tyrant, but Louis had good taste. There was a huge terrace that over looks a canal and French country side, with woods, statues, nitches filled with fountains, orchards, small children, flowers, and carriages. I could have stood there forever contemplating the history of the world, feeling the majesty of all those who came before us, finding my place in the universe. To repeat: it was amazing.

Chicas: oh do I love Hookah bars. Friday night, we found a really fantastic one. Cheap, comfy couches, fantastic tea and friendly service. Also, it’s within eyesight of the Metro. Lauren and I keep saying, “Oh, yea, we’ll go the Hookah bar and do our work.” Yea right. We may be missing out on European history, but we’re getting pretty good at smoke rings. I belly danced a bit even, which was pretty entertaining, and we made friends with the dudes sitting next to us. Like most people I’ve meet here: très gentiles.

One of the waiters took a bit of a fancy to me, and starting proclaiming the only phrases he knows in English. To me: “I Love you!” To the dudes we met: “I hate you!” Lauren says, “Why is it that all the waiters fall in love with you wherever we go?” Dude, I have no idea.

And as if random proclamations of love from people I’m completely NOT INTERESTED IN (seriously, maybe I should make a sign that says, “No Way in Hell”) wasn’t enough, I met someone at the bus stop. We talked, exchanged numbers, and I proved to myself yet again the wonder that is flirting with your eyes. Oh the French are so good at it, and I’m not bad myself, as is evident by me picking up random dudes at bus stops at 4:30 in the morning. It’s really amazing: you just have to look at someone a certain way and then. . . I’ve been trying to teach Lauren, but il ne marche pas.

Julian text messaged me last night, and it was very obvious that he’s a native French speaker. The first message said “Amelie do you want to take a drink in this week? Julian, the boy of the bus,” which may be the cutest SMS ever. After some scheduling issues, we’re going out next week. Oh man, so hot.

I introduce myself as Amelie here because Mia doesn’t quite translate with French verbs, or at least in a pleasing way. I may continue with that when I return to the home continent. Thoughts? I’ve always figured I would make the switch at some point in my “adult life.” Maybe that time is now?

Now that I’m just rambling to pretend I’m paying attention, I should go. Since I didn’t do the reading for today AT ALL, maybe listening for half a minute wouldn’t be completely out of line.

no me recordo

[the title of this post is brought to you by french class. it's some incorrect spanish, and i was rather disgruntled when i heard it. i mean, come ON people, if you're going to speak spanish during french class, at least do it properly!]

so we left off with my re-arrival in paris. mia wrote some about nuit blanche, but to review it happened october 1, the night we arrived. we had pizza and wine at the restaurant that we subsequently decided was "our" restaurant. the waiter called mia "my love" and he offered to be our dessert, and provided helpful directions on how to get to the center of paris for nuit blanche. go read what mia said about it, since review is allowed but repetition is lame.

a day-by-day recount of the week would also be lame, so let me just comment on a few things. i've already mentioned my room. what else, classes? i'm taking three classes right now: french 150-1 for beginners, french 150-2 for beginners who have had some french (i sit in on that one), and civ. french is taught by karen, who is cool. the 150-1 class is fortunately starting to pick up, because i freaking need a vocabulary! as for 150-2, some things are a bit over my head, but that is to be expected. civ is rather yawnish right now, mostly because--fascinating as they are--reading operational rules for monasteries isn't quite my idea of a good time (thanks, benedict). the professor, jean-luc or something like that, is a french dude whose english is fluent but not natural. as he said on the first day of class, "listening to my english will improve your french." it's a bit difficult for me to focus on what he's saying; his speaking rhythm doesn't seem to sit right in my ear. maybe his sentences are a little too cumbersome or prepositional, or maybe i'm not into the dark ages... but c'est la vie. not that i don't like him, but i'm definitely looking forward to our professor for the second quarter of civ, who introduced himself to us at a reception. and the course is getting better, since we're studying more contemporary (i.e. interesting) things with each new day.

so, that's class. as for life, i've been hanging out with mia a lot (surprise!). perhaps the most stereotypically tourist-in-paris thing was drinking wine at the foot (feet?) of the eiffel tower. there've been night clubs and hookah bars and restaurants galore. oh, and who can forget shopping: my formerly sparse wardrobe has gained two skirts (skirts, i know!), two shirts, a sweater, a pair of pants, a bra (that was rather hard to find--french women, apparently, are all a- and b-cups), and pointy black shoes (yes, the kind i swore i'd never want). and of course there's been lots of wandering, lots of wine, and lots of baguettes.

the program also includes weekly conversation sessions with a native speaker who is, as kett put it, paid to be our friend. but i like juliette, my conversation leader, and the rest of my group, so i don't object. we had japanese yesterday, and we're meeting outside moulin rouge next week. in other chilling-with-the-french news, karen (the french teacher) had her friend yacina take small groups of us to an open-air market, and we're apparently going to continue weekly or bi-monthly outings throughout the quarter. yacina doesn't really speak english, so it's a great chance to practice french!

there are program-wide outings, also. last thursday we went to the Thermes de Cluny in the Musee de Cluny, where we toured the ruins of a bathhouse. it was really interesting, but i would have enjoyed it more if the tour hadn't started so early! on friday, we all went to two chateaus, Blois and Chambord, and at the latter had a lunch fit for kings. we had a great tour guide, a former UofC student named Steve. he made a star wars reference about 3 minutes into his Chateau de Blois spiel; need i say more? also, this wednesday, we're going to the bastille opera to see la boheme. so yeah, good times.

sunday, mia and i went to versailles. we had lunch with juliette at a creperie named Saint Louis, then walked around the palace gardens. juliette peaced when mia and i went inside the part that was free for us (since we're, uh, art history students. riiight.). basically, the place has a lot of ridiculously ornate shit.

in transit news, today, mia, monica, and i missed our metro stop and ended up getting a citation(!), since we left the city of paris without the proper ticket. the fine is 25 euros per person, but the dude was nice and let us pay 25 total, not 75. mia called it our stupidity tax, but i remain in good spirits about it. hey, we got a good laugh, a relaxing train ride, and a chance to see paris's outskirts for just 8 euros!

in exciting news, i'm going back to berlin! mia and i will be there friday morning to sunday night. the visit won't be as carefree as my last one, though, since our first paper is due on monday... but hey, i can totally write 8 to 10 pages in between beers.

peace.

berlin!

[just so you're not confused by my first sentence, i wrote this post over about four days, beginning in berlin while waiting for my overnight train back to paris.]

so it's 21:13 on september 31, and i was just approached by a bilingual beggar. crazy. i've entitled this text document "paris2," though none but the ending will take place in paris. we're going to do a recap of the past week in berlin.

so, i already shared my adventures in getting to yitz's. later on friday (after a truly fabulous nap), i did some exploring with julius. yitz had told me that julius was the most german person ever, and i can't think of a more apt description. he's tall, blonde, and soooo polite. the only uncharacteristic things about him, if we're describing his character as 'german,' are that he hates smoke (while most germans are quite tolerant of it, and many do smoke) and that he thinks noon is too early to drink beer (and instead drank orange juice at lunch on sunday). he's a computer programmer, though he was so knowledgeable about history and politics i would have pegged him a polisci guy.

the two of us went to the center of berlin, where we saw the bradenburg gate, which is hella old, and the reichstag, the german parliment building. the reichstag has this phenomenal dome that you can walk up in, but we were deterred by the long line and decided to wander on. but no worries; i'll save it for my next time in berlin. he also pointed out the siegessäule, or victory tower, then we walked over to the gendarmenmarkt, which was gorgeous and symmetrical even though one of the cathedrals was under construction.

more touristy things followed, the most notable of which was a speedy elevator ride up some 24-story building (yes, i know 24 stories isn't that impressive, but berlin is pretty short for a world-class city). nobody really knows the name of the building, but it's near the sony center and provides a bangin' view of berlin for 2euro50. a few things struck me about the view: 1) the gorgeous philharmonic hall, which looks to have amazing acoustics as well. oh man, i could look at that building for hours. 2) the contrast between east and west berlin. it's intense; east berlin is full of monotonous communist architecture, while the west is much more visually appealing. 3) the greenery! the center of berlin has a huge tree-filled park called--i believe-- the tiergarten (this, of course, is a striking contrast to the roped-off trees in millenium park, chicago's pathetic interpretation of nature). but there was plenty of nature visible elsewhere; in fact, while riding the metro, i'd often look out and see that i was surrounded by forest.

and aaah, the metro. yitz promised i would love it, and he was right on. it's clean (save some graffiti, which is pretty ubiquitous in the entire city), it's fast, and (pardon my pulling a mastercard) it's everywhere you want to be. and the bicycles! most were pimped out with racks and baskets and headlights (it's the law, in fact, to have lights on your bike if you ride after dark), but the best thing about the bicycles is that they were everywhere, as were bike lanes. i was, of course, very excited by all of this--it's just so refreshing when cities have alternatives to automobiles, and it's borderline exhilarating when those alternatives are well executed and widely used.

but back to friday. i wanted to see how much it cost to go to the movies, so we headed over to the sony center's cinema. movie prices are determined by a lot of variables, such as what night it is (more expensive on weekends, of course) and how long the movie is (longer movies cost more, in fact). after seeing the movie prices, we decided we might as well see something, so we bought charlie and the chocolate factory tickets and had a spot of tea (or hot chocolate) before the show. i only mention the drinks because our waiter had this badass electronic notepad. i'm pretty sure it had a wireless connection to the kitchen, and it definitely had the ability to print our receipt. it was crazycool.

the movie was okay, but it deserves so little mention that i'll just say i prefer the gene wilder version. afterward we had some chinese, and then i found five euros. (no, no, just kidding with the euros. i wish.) i was rather wiped out after seeing half of downtown berlin, so i slept like a rock until about 3pm on saturday. upon awakening, i realized that i had a cold, so i proceeded to spend an eventful saturday drinking tea and blowing my nose.

on sunday, yitz's dad prepared a traditional german meal of pork and sauerkraut, with not-so-traditional extras like green beans (i'd already let him know i'm not a fan of 'kraut) and a cake, baked by yitz's mom. after lunch, julius and i headed out for a holocaust memorial and the jewish museum. both were cool beyond words. we also saw checkpoint charlie (and the lesser-known snackpoint charlie, a nearby food stop) and the berlin dome before a dinner of beer and spatzel with onion, tomato, and bacon.

i was without a return ticket to paris, so i set out to resolve this on monday. the deutsche bahn is pretty lame in that they don't let you purchase tickets online, so i headed to the train station. once i saw the line was going to take a few minutes, i whipped out the ipod, which drew a comment from the woman behind me. after my response of "ich spreche kein deutch," she asked me how i liked my ipod in english (i suppose my accent was indicative of an english speaker). i didn't end up listening to much music during the 10-minute wait, since we kept talking. she even offered to translate for me if the teller didn't speak english (but the teller did). and then, i really did find 5 euros--well, it was actually 60 or so, and i found them in my hand after a bank teller gave them to me. ah, the joys of currency exchange.

next up was the story of berlin, a super sweet museum about berlin's history. here i finally saw some of the berlin wall, as well as a tin of cheddar cheese that american troops dropped to west berlin (w00t, cheese! go team america!!). the museum included a tour of a still-functional cold war–era bunker, which featured a bathroom-to-person ratio of 1:900 or something equally insane. that wouldn't be much of a concern, though, because if the bunker were actually used, the amount of oxygen in the air would be so low that people would just basically sleep all the time. the cots were in stacks of 4 and 5, maybe even 6--in short, conditions that made my overnight train couchette seem like a king bed in a hilton. so yeah, bunkers suck and the museum was very cool and very educational.

but here, folks, i must take a break to stress how little i know about history. wwii, for example. the version of world war two that i got in american history was "and then japan bombed us, so we came in and saved the day." my high school required all students to take two years of american history, but made european history pretty damn inaccessible--there was only one class offered, and that was an ap class i wasn't eligible for since i didn't get an A in history my freshman year. i mean, most of us had a class called "world cultures," but that entire class could have been summarized with "ok, kids, some cultures are different than ours, but that's no reason to join the kkk." i suppose i should have taken the initiative and read wikipedia for some history on my own time, but it's disappointing that i was allowed to graduate high school with such a gap in my education. ultimately, i feel a little let down by the most powerful nation in the world--what, is this all the knowledge you think your children can handle? even adults are pretty damn oblivious to what's going on in the rest of the world, and that shouldn't be surprising when the only foreign countries cnn mentions (besides america, of course) are israel and whatever countries we happen to be invading--err, "liberating"--at the time.

and then yitz arrived! we didn't do much on monday night besides some catching up, but we got an early start (at least by my standards) on tuesday. we went to his high school, ate a doner, and wandered around the grounds of the charlottenburg palace (which is, like, 5 seconds from his house). friends of his family were moving back to the states, so we all had cocktails with them. wednesday brought a visit to the museum berggruen, which had a pretty nice picasso collection (oh, and the museum is also 5 seconds from his house. that's right. picasso. five seconds away. no joke.), and drinks with his friend kristen.

on thursday we hung out at kristen's house and had drinks with julius. we saw this cool artist's colony that's covered with graffiti and artwork. the communists tried to destroy it back in the day, but the building was so well made (stone and stuff) that it stood. i'm definitely taking mia to it when we go to da 'lin. on friday morning, yitz left for chicago. i didn't do much besides packing, going to an american express office, and catching my train. i was quite annoyed to discover that my couchette had a baby in it, but after about 20 minutes of intermittent crying the kid was quiet.

in paris the next morning, i made my way to the charles de gaulle airport and met mia (after a bit of worry that i'd never find her). you can read her account of our first day below. the only downsides to my room, which is more spacious than most and overlooks the campus of the cite, are the cold floor and the sink, which has separate taps for hot and cold water (it's so frustrating when i can't have warm water!). i've put some decor around, plus got my huge bag (which had been parked at the paris center while i was in berlin) unpacked, so--while it's definitely not my apartment--it'll do for a few months.

and with that, i've gotta peace out. much reading to do for tomorrow, and we have to haul ass into the center of paris at 9 tomorrow morning for a tour of an art gallery--i know, i know, i have SO much to complain about! civ class isn't until 4:30, by the way, which is great (though getting out at 7 is sorta lame), and french class is before that, starting at 3:15 or 2:15 depending on the day. i'm not bothering to proofread right now, so let me know if my grammar is wack or my links are bad.

Paris and Then Some

My Room
Cite Universitaire
Paris, France
21:12
Monday, October 3, 2005

Paris and Then Some

So, I’m in Paris and it’s amazing beyond belief. The people, the lights, the wine, the cute French boys, the cafes, the French. Everything. It’s all amazing and I’m so happy to be here. It’s such a satisfying feeling when life long dreams come true. First college, then Paris. Maybe there is hope that I’m not destined to be forever alone.

Lauren picked me up at the airport like the good husband she is, and after schleeping my shit halfway across the continent we slept off some jet lag. The room I have is nice, spacious by U of C standards with French windows that overlook a park. It’s gorgeous as long as you ignore the construction/destruction of the street below. The floors are tile and very cold. Every morning I have to convince myself to get out of bed to find my shoes, hopping and squealing. I have a sink in my room, which is sweet but other then that it’s your generic student room. Jesse told me how barren it is and suggested I take tapestries. Such a good call Jesse! Thank you!

After sleep and unpacking, Lauren and I decided to go out on the town. It was la Nuit Blanche – White Night. This is when everything is open from 8:00 pm – 8:00 am and all of Paris become a big, giant party. After many bottles of wine, getting seduced by creepy French men, ditching them to go back the café and have more wine, stumbling upon an outdoor disco and many other fantastic, random events, we decided that 4:00 am was a decent hour to call it a night. We stumbled to the train station only to learn that by “everything is open” they mean everything but the Trains. They stopped running, and didn’t start up again until 5:00. So here we are drunk, in a train station, stranded. We did the obvious: took a nap. Lauren didn’t actually sleep, but I passed smooth out, spooning with my husband on the floor. Yea, it was sweet.

However, other then that, it’s been a lot of drinking, Hookah bars, and telling sleazy French men politely that no, I won’t go home with them. But generally speaking, I love the French. They’re so gregarious and loving. I still hope to fall magically in love here to eventually return and have many beautiful French babies. My mom’s entirely convinced it’s going to happen and I’ll never return to the states. As she put it, “Oh darn, I’d have to visit my grandkids in Paris.”

For some reason I volunteered to give the first presentation over our reading, which I haven’t done yet. I should probably get on that. Being back in school is weird, as it commuting to get there – I’d gotten quite used to the closeness of Hyde Park. But then again, getting on the train is always another chance to meet people, learn more about the city etc.

Wednesday I’m planning on going to St. Jacques *** and convincing them to teach me French sign language. I hope it works. I could teach them the little ASL I learn and in exchange, they could enable me to eventually save all the deaf children everywhere.

My French is getting better and better by the day. There are a total of three of us who actually speak French with a decent degree of fluency, and four other with some French. Everyone else is lost. It’s rewarding to translate for everyone, but more exciting to talk to everyone I see in French. Really, I talk to strangers a lot more, partially because that’s the way it is here, but also because I thrill every time I’m understood, every pleasant exchange, every true won smile. We have these “conversation groups” which I realized, with the help of Kett, is really where the U of C pays some local French people to be our friends. Kett, Eili and I (the three French speakers) met Arthur (r-Tur in francais) and he took us to the Latin Quarter and pointed out the sites. Then we went to a café, split a bottle of wine and spoke lots of French. I’m glad for the opportunity to meet a true Parisian and milk him for knowledge of the city, and I know that he doesn’t look at this as a job. Yet, at the same time there’s still a bit of weirdness, at least theoretically speaking. Don’t worry: I’m over it.

The thing I’ve realized about Paris is that it has presence. You can feel the history, the beauty, the art, the revolutions, the ideas, the parties, the wine, the culture, the love everywhere you go. You can see it in the architecture, you can hear it in the language, you can see if flow by as you walk along the Seine. (Oh, side note: there’s a really attractive guy in my program, so obviously, I stand near him while we’re waiting to take a tour of the Cite and I accidentally hear him say, “Oh is that by the Sin, or whatever it is.” Yea, that’s when I decided that he’s a douche and if it were up to me, I’d of kicked him out of France.) Paris never lets you forget how amazing it is to be alive and how much joy there is in life, something I think Chicago hopes you’d forget. Texas is my homeland, mais Paris est la terre de ma coeur.