Blog Ho!

So I'm in Europe again, which means, among other things, that I should probably start blogging again in order to keep you updated on my crazy crazy life. I have an extremely reliable internet connection here in my beautiful apartment, so I feel like this process should be a lot easier than it was at the lovely Résidence Gandhi in Brussels.

Ahh, where to begin? I've only been here in Paris for a bit more than two weeks, and I already feel as though the States are a distant, yet fond, memory. I found my car keys and old cell phone in my backpack the other day, and was surprised at how foreign they appeared to me. I love keeping up with family and friends, but I tend to see them as individuals, fully disconnected from my visceral memories of America. In this sense, the cars, the open spaces, the grocery stores and malls, are all suddenly difficult to conceptualize.

Many things have been written about Paris by Americans, and I feel as though their statements could all very well be true. This is not to say that Paris is easy to describe or to judge at first glance. Rather, I intend to say the opposite: The city of Paris is so vast, so multifaceted, that it constitutes a completely different experience at every turn. Each neighborhood could take years to fully explore, and the distance between each metro stop feels like a whole universe of colors and smells and people. I think that's the first thing that struck me. Paris is so full of people, of every possible nationality and style and language. Wikipedia says that over twelve million people live in Paris, and I don't find that hard to believe at all. Coming from Chapel Hill, with a grand total of 54,492 residents, it's easy to see why I might have been surprised by the way the city is quite literally alive.

And that's to say nothing of Paris itself. It's maybe a 25-minute walk from my apartment to Sciences Po, and on the way I pass innumerable monuments and buildings and gardens with cultural significance. In Paris you need to keep your wits about you when you're walking around, firstly in case you miss one of the architectural wonders of the world, and secondly in case you step in dog crap. While it may be the most beautiful city ever built, it is still a city, and that's something that I say to forewarn anyone who will visit in the near future. Apparently the Japanese have a word, "Parisu shinduromu", for a very real psychological condition that befalls tourists who have over-romanticised the City of Lights. Thankfully, I've visited Paris before, and even did a stint in far-grittier Brussels (see below) that conditioned my expectations. It's not a clean city, but that's not the point.

I say this to explain my first week in Paris, which was altogether the most stressful week of my entire life. I arrived in Paris with one suitcase, a couple hundred euros, 4 days of a hotel reservation, and a lot of prayer. I knew two people in the whole city, and had a very limited amount of time to find an apartment. The city is massive and public... There's no personal space, no privacy, and it costs money to do anything. As you might be able to imagine, this was a recipe for a pretty intense time. However, I relied on my language skills, my extremely supportive network of contacts, and the grace of God... and He delivered in a big way. Without major complications, me and my roommate Eric were able to sign on an apartment together on the fourth day. Judging from the horror stories propagated by many of my peers, it was simply a miracle.

The night we signed on the apartment was a turning point for me. It coincided with the beginning in earnest of the Welcome Program, which organizes exchange students into small classes and instructs them in french language and methodology for two weeks. I met quite a few people through the welcome program, and the events they planned were just awesome. I began to discover Paris by night, which is a different and even more enthralling experience altogether. The city began to appear less impersonal to me as I discovered more about my quartier and Sciences Po. I suppose this next little chapter of my acclimation culminated with a night at Queen, a famous (and extremely entertaining) gay club. The pictures are on facebook, for those who dare... (Transvestite cowgirls!) Since then, everything has been really crazy and fun.

Now I'm finally here, relaxing in a beautiful apartment while the city hums around me. Though this post has gotten quite long, none of what I've written can accurately describe the experience that is Paris. Hopefully during the course of my adventures I'll be able to better explain the nature of this overwhelming city. Paris isn't a passive entity... It demands your attention. With my classes starting today, and the excitement I've begun to feel for the rest of life here, hopefully I'll be able to keep updating you with these posts. More to come!

Much love,

Ian