Post to come, but check out my photos here!
Bisous,
Remy
Saturday, May 9, 2009
Monday, April 20, 2009
Spring travels
Sorry for a delay in posts, but I've been off traveling this week! I went to Florence for Easter weekend, came back to Paris for a few days, and then I was off again to Amsterdam. I had a great time in both cities, both equally special and different.
Florence
Pictures from Florence
We arrived in Florence on the Saturday night before Easter. We took a 5 minute cab ride to an apartment we had rented through Hostelworld.com. We waited. And waited. And waited. No one came to let us into the apartment. I called, and called and no one picked up. We were stranded and starving in Florence. I had failed.
BUT, I had a friend from GW studying abroad there for the semester, and she was gracious enough to let me, Ellie and Meredith stay with her for the night until we figured something else out. We kicked it "7th grade slumber party" style, putting two mattresses on the kitchen floor. While my friend was nice enough to let us stay for one night, we had to find other arrangements for the next few nights we were there. So we found Hotel Residenzia Millenium. It looked like a great location, cheap, and tidy. I booked it. I then went on to tripadvisor.com to look at reviews, and found this entry, entitled: "Owner is Insane and Potentially Dangerous". I couldn't read the review out loud I was laughing so hard. What had I gotten us into this time?
We arrived at the hotel on Easter morning, slightly terrified, but intrigued by this 'insane' owner. We found him to be simply overly helpful, shared a little too much information about himself, and a little creepy, but definitely manageable. The only weird moment we had was on Sunday night when we couldn't get out of our hotel for some reason; Ellie looked for other ways to get out, but the window was the only promising exit.
Hotel fiascos aside, Florence was beautiful. We went to the Duomo for Easter Sunday. Meredith wanted to go to mass, but we never made it as the crowds outside the church were oceans wide. It was a great experience - between the medieval parade, the fireworks display at 11am (yes, in the morning, it's Florentine tradition apparently) and the church bells, we were Easter. We all had our Easter finery on, had a nice big pasta/pizza lunch, and then we went to Galleria dell'Academia where we saw the David.
As someone who has studied the David in almost every single art history class, because it is THE reference to the perfect man that every artist after Michelangelo looks to, it was again sureal to be in the presence of something so great. There he was, with that stern look, relaxed and strong stance, having the sun from the skylight illuminate him. A slide is one thing, but the real deal is so much better.
We walked and walked, and strolled through the San Lorenzo leather market where we convinced each other it was time to we marked our travels with something that would last, or at least for a couple years: a purse. We each got one, talked the prices down at the stalls, and strolled away happy.
One night for dinner we met up with another friend from GW (oh so many Americans in Florence; I swear I heard more English than Italian!). We decided to grab some Peroni's (italian beer) and Pinot Grigio and take it to the Piazza Signoria. It was the perfect light, good people and good laughs. For some reason "Beauty and the Beast" started playing in a near by sculpture gallery, which only added to the mood. After drinks we went to this fabulous restaurant called Coquinarius; while my cold was so bad I could barely taste anything, it was still memorable. The waiter was super nice, the ambience small and intimate, and you could tell everyone around us was a regular.
There is something golden about Florence. Perhaps it's that special light in the piazza, or how the sun hits the buildings along the Arno, or maybe even how the gold on the Ponte Vecchio calls to a girl's heart; whatever it is, it is a very special place and I am eager to return with Ben, Deb and Carlos in May!
Amsterdam
Pictures from Amsterdam
Amsterdam - what an amazing little city! My parents kept saying, oh, you're just going to love Amsterdam and I thought, sure, but how amazing can it be? And did I find out. This cross between the Village and the Vineyard and some odd utopia where everyone rides bikes and is for lack of a better word, chill. Everything about Amsterdam was so settling and peaceful; I felt as though the air was even softer there.
I loved this city. But my love for this trip started before I arrived in Amsterdam - I took the train from Paris to Amsterdam! It took 4 hours, but I couldn't fall asleep because it was just so beautiful. The Flemish countryside is a quite a sight. I now understand why the Flemish masters had such a fascination with nature - the soft fog over the fields, the mist around the green green trees, the sheeps and cows in the meadows next to little farmhouses. It looked like it was out of a fairytale. I tried to capture the tulip fields as we approached Amsterdam, but the train was going a bit too fast for clarity unfortunately.
I was in Amsterdam Friday night through Sunday night, and I really wish I had longer. There was just so much to see and so much to take in, it really deserved more than two days. I guess I'll just have to go back!
During my few days, I managed to go to the Anne Frank House, the Tulip Museum, the Bloemenmarket (flower market), "I Am Amsterdam" sign, and the Van Gogh Museum, as well as stroll the canals, have pancakes and try not to get hit by bikers or trams (close to impossible, how do they do it?).
I didn't know what my reaction was going to be to the Anne Frank House. Always the emotional one, I braved for the worst (hysterical crying) but I came out with a very different impression than what I originally thought. As I went from room to room, reading parts of her diary on the walls, learning about how incredible this little girl was, seeing their "papers" to the concentration camps, experiencing the darkness and silence they had to live in every day, I was moved. I was upset, as I thought I would be, and then selfishly or not I thought to myself - thank god that wasn't my family. I teared up listening to stories of her friends that had survived the War, a video made of Otto Frank (her father) in 1980 in which talked about his daughter, and finally at the book of names that listed the families deported from Amsterdam to camps. At the end of the visit, there was a guestbook. All I could write was, "I am blessed. - Remy Tumin, 4/18/2009". And I truly am.
There was just something so odd about this city that I loved. Some can't stand it, but I really enjoyed it. There's something about the rhythm of life there that fit. I got a text from my mom during my time there that went like this: "Interesting city and cultured, don't you think? I remember people any age sitting in parks on a hot day in their underwear, just regular not sey or self conscious, any age, just take off your shirt, have lunch and go back to work, very laissez-faire, is it still?" I said, well, it's not warm enough out for nakedness but I'm sure they still do. I didn't see any of that, but I did see a fair amount of lounging on the roofs of houseboats, hippies cuddled in blankets on the roofs of their cars, and rollerbladers jamming to disco. What a crazy city. When can I go back?
Promise I'll be better about getting on my blog more often! It really is spring in Paris now. Mom's coming Thursday, can't wait!
Bisous,
Remy
Florence
Pictures from Florence
We arrived in Florence on the Saturday night before Easter. We took a 5 minute cab ride to an apartment we had rented through Hostelworld.com. We waited. And waited. And waited. No one came to let us into the apartment. I called, and called and no one picked up. We were stranded and starving in Florence. I had failed.
BUT, I had a friend from GW studying abroad there for the semester, and she was gracious enough to let me, Ellie and Meredith stay with her for the night until we figured something else out. We kicked it "7th grade slumber party" style, putting two mattresses on the kitchen floor. While my friend was nice enough to let us stay for one night, we had to find other arrangements for the next few nights we were there. So we found Hotel Residenzia Millenium. It looked like a great location, cheap, and tidy. I booked it. I then went on to tripadvisor.com to look at reviews, and found this entry, entitled: "Owner is Insane and Potentially Dangerous". I couldn't read the review out loud I was laughing so hard. What had I gotten us into this time?
We arrived at the hotel on Easter morning, slightly terrified, but intrigued by this 'insane' owner. We found him to be simply overly helpful, shared a little too much information about himself, and a little creepy, but definitely manageable. The only weird moment we had was on Sunday night when we couldn't get out of our hotel for some reason; Ellie looked for other ways to get out, but the window was the only promising exit.
Hotel fiascos aside, Florence was beautiful. We went to the Duomo for Easter Sunday. Meredith wanted to go to mass, but we never made it as the crowds outside the church were oceans wide. It was a great experience - between the medieval parade, the fireworks display at 11am (yes, in the morning, it's Florentine tradition apparently) and the church bells, we were Easter. We all had our Easter finery on, had a nice big pasta/pizza lunch, and then we went to Galleria dell'Academia where we saw the David.
As someone who has studied the David in almost every single art history class, because it is THE reference to the perfect man that every artist after Michelangelo looks to, it was again sureal to be in the presence of something so great. There he was, with that stern look, relaxed and strong stance, having the sun from the skylight illuminate him. A slide is one thing, but the real deal is so much better.
We walked and walked, and strolled through the San Lorenzo leather market where we convinced each other it was time to we marked our travels with something that would last, or at least for a couple years: a purse. We each got one, talked the prices down at the stalls, and strolled away happy.
One night for dinner we met up with another friend from GW (oh so many Americans in Florence; I swear I heard more English than Italian!). We decided to grab some Peroni's (italian beer) and Pinot Grigio and take it to the Piazza Signoria. It was the perfect light, good people and good laughs. For some reason "Beauty and the Beast" started playing in a near by sculpture gallery, which only added to the mood. After drinks we went to this fabulous restaurant called Coquinarius; while my cold was so bad I could barely taste anything, it was still memorable. The waiter was super nice, the ambience small and intimate, and you could tell everyone around us was a regular.
There is something golden about Florence. Perhaps it's that special light in the piazza, or how the sun hits the buildings along the Arno, or maybe even how the gold on the Ponte Vecchio calls to a girl's heart; whatever it is, it is a very special place and I am eager to return with Ben, Deb and Carlos in May!
Amsterdam
Pictures from Amsterdam
Amsterdam - what an amazing little city! My parents kept saying, oh, you're just going to love Amsterdam and I thought, sure, but how amazing can it be? And did I find out. This cross between the Village and the Vineyard and some odd utopia where everyone rides bikes and is for lack of a better word, chill. Everything about Amsterdam was so settling and peaceful; I felt as though the air was even softer there.
I loved this city. But my love for this trip started before I arrived in Amsterdam - I took the train from Paris to Amsterdam! It took 4 hours, but I couldn't fall asleep because it was just so beautiful. The Flemish countryside is a quite a sight. I now understand why the Flemish masters had such a fascination with nature - the soft fog over the fields, the mist around the green green trees, the sheeps and cows in the meadows next to little farmhouses. It looked like it was out of a fairytale. I tried to capture the tulip fields as we approached Amsterdam, but the train was going a bit too fast for clarity unfortunately.
I was in Amsterdam Friday night through Sunday night, and I really wish I had longer. There was just so much to see and so much to take in, it really deserved more than two days. I guess I'll just have to go back!
During my few days, I managed to go to the Anne Frank House, the Tulip Museum, the Bloemenmarket (flower market), "I Am Amsterdam" sign, and the Van Gogh Museum, as well as stroll the canals, have pancakes and try not to get hit by bikers or trams (close to impossible, how do they do it?).
I didn't know what my reaction was going to be to the Anne Frank House. Always the emotional one, I braved for the worst (hysterical crying) but I came out with a very different impression than what I originally thought. As I went from room to room, reading parts of her diary on the walls, learning about how incredible this little girl was, seeing their "papers" to the concentration camps, experiencing the darkness and silence they had to live in every day, I was moved. I was upset, as I thought I would be, and then selfishly or not I thought to myself - thank god that wasn't my family. I teared up listening to stories of her friends that had survived the War, a video made of Otto Frank (her father) in 1980 in which talked about his daughter, and finally at the book of names that listed the families deported from Amsterdam to camps. At the end of the visit, there was a guestbook. All I could write was, "I am blessed. - Remy Tumin, 4/18/2009". And I truly am.
There was just something so odd about this city that I loved. Some can't stand it, but I really enjoyed it. There's something about the rhythm of life there that fit. I got a text from my mom during my time there that went like this: "Interesting city and cultured, don't you think? I remember people any age sitting in parks on a hot day in their underwear, just regular not sey or self conscious, any age, just take off your shirt, have lunch and go back to work, very laissez-faire, is it still?" I said, well, it's not warm enough out for nakedness but I'm sure they still do. I didn't see any of that, but I did see a fair amount of lounging on the roofs of houseboats, hippies cuddled in blankets on the roofs of their cars, and rollerbladers jamming to disco. What a crazy city. When can I go back?
Promise I'll be better about getting on my blog more often! It really is spring in Paris now. Mom's coming Thursday, can't wait!
Bisous,
Remy
Tuesday, April 7, 2009
Plus de printemps
Click here for some recent Paris photos! Post to come. Off to Florence on Saturday for Easter!
Bisous,
Remy
Bisous,
Remy
Saturday, March 28, 2009
Le meiulleure repas à Paris!
Tonight I was fortunate enough to dine with my roommate Ellie and her Dad at Le Train Bleu. The restaurant is lo
cated in the Garde de Lyon railway station, where trains depart Paris bound for the south of France, Provence and Nice for example. The grande belle-epoque style dining room had floral chandeliers, beautiful frescoes, and a wonderful waitstaff. Someone the other day asked me what the best meal I ever had was, and I have to say this meal tops the chart. I enjoyed every single bight of flavor; it was the perfect melange of gouts (tastes).
I had the TGV prix-fixe. The TGV is the fast train throughout Europe, and the meal was supposed to be served in 45-minutes or less! I had foie gras, lamb with potatoe gratin, and some sort of chocolate mousse-death-by-chocolate concoction, not to mention the fabulous wines that accompanied the meal. I was in heaven. You know when you have those unforgettable meals, or taste something so extravagantly perfect that you are completely satisfied? That's what our dinner was tonight.
And last night we had another wonderful experience at Chartier! While much more low-key and catered to the neighborhood, Chartier was a fabulous experience as well. We dined on a caraffe de vin rouge, escargots with a lovely butter-garlic-herb sauce; I had lamb, again, with pommes-frites. I find it a delicious meat that we don't have enough of in America. This is a great place to take out-of-towners for an "experience vraiment francaise" that's easy on the wallet, even though the line goes around the block after 7:30pm. I wish I could have taken you all there!
That's all for now as I go and digest.
Bisous,
Remy
cated in the Garde de Lyon railway station, where trains depart Paris bound for the south of France, Provence and Nice for example. The grande belle-epoque style dining room had floral chandeliers, beautiful frescoes, and a wonderful waitstaff. Someone the other day asked me what the best meal I ever had was, and I have to say this meal tops the chart. I enjoyed every single bight of flavor; it was the perfect melange of gouts (tastes).I had the TGV prix-fixe. The TGV is the fast train throughout Europe, and the meal was supposed to be served in 45-minutes or less! I had foie gras, lamb with potatoe gratin, and some sort of chocolate mousse-death-by-chocolate concoction, not to mention the fabulous wines that accompanied the meal. I was in heaven. You know when you have those unforgettable meals, or taste something so extravagantly perfect that you are completely satisfied? That's what our dinner was tonight.
And last night we had another wonderful experience at Chartier! While much more low-key and catered to the neighborhood, Chartier was a fabulous experience as well. We dined on a caraffe de vin rouge, escargots with a lovely butter-garlic-herb sauce; I had lamb, again, with pommes-frites. I find it a delicious meat that we don't have enough of in America. This is a great place to take out-of-towners for an "experience vraiment francaise" that's easy on the wallet, even though the line goes around the block after 7:30pm. I wish I could have taken you all there!
That's all for now as I go and digest.
Bisous,
Remy
Tuesday, March 24, 2009
Le Printemps!
The flowers have finally started to bloom, the trees' haze around the branches is no longer gray but green, and it has stopped raining (for now). Yes, I do believe it is springtime in Paris!
Last week, it was a high of 60*F all week. While it may have been a fluke, I took every moment I had to soak in the sun. Whether it was a trip to the Luxumbourg gardens for the afternoon, a walk home from school, or simply sitting at a cafe and taking in the sun, I was a very happy girl last week. Well, after Wednesday anyway...
I started my week with a trip to London for 24 hours to visit Dad.
My camera died as soon as I got there and all I got was this picture of the Sherlock Holmes Pub near our hotel. We dined on fish and chips, and strolled London on another glorious day (a rarity I was assured). While our time together was too short, it was so nice to see family after this long time away from home. Hint, hint, to you all...I then returned to Paris for a few days of midterm hell, but I made it through. I celebrated by making a picnic on the Champs de Mars in front of the Eiffle Tower, where I promptly passed out in the sun. As I was leaving the park, I found a dog-run, and I heard this huge bark. I turned around and there was a Harlequin Great Dane like Harvey; I immediately started to cry. Don't worry, Harvey was obviously cuter.
I had a friend from GW staying with me this week, Juliette, so I played tour guide, which is always a nice reminder of how much I really do love Paris. I've decided (to the chagrin of some, I'm sure) that if I were to go to cooking school, I would have to do it here, no question. We went to the Orangerie, one of my favorite museums here, the Marais for falafels and vintage shopping,
and a food market on Avenue President Wilson where I wanted to buy everything I saw. I ended up buying some olives and strawberries. The olive vendor knew instantly that I was American and asked if I wanted 50 kilos of olives; and then laughed at me. The strawberry vendor told me in French he was having a two-for-one sale on strawberries, so did I want 2 kilos? I said, sure, why not? Little did I know that I had just purchased enough strawberries to feed an army. I'm still working on my metric conversions.I am half way done with my program, and I don't know where the time has gone. I have another friend coming to visit me in April, then I'm off to Florence for Easter weekend, followed by Amsterdam the next. Mom is coming to visit me at the end of April, and then it's May! I hope to get to the south of France then, and hopefully conclude my time in Europe with a week in Greece at the end of the semester.
Bisous,
Remy
Friday, March 6, 2009
Back in Paris
I have just returned from Rome and Barcelona; what a trip.
I loved Rome. I had an amazing time, visited (almost) everything I wanted to see, and really enjoyed myself. My roommate Ellie couldn't come with me so I was on my own. While I had friends in Rome, I spent the days by myself. I was at first terrified to travel by myself, but then as I roamed Rome by myself I found complete comfort in my surroundings. I had a wonderful time with Kelly, my roommate from freshman year. We took Italian Baroque art together, so we were equally as excited to see things in person rather than on a screen. My last night we went to this art space called Rialto; it was part bar, part art, part best dance grooves ever - i.e. sly and the family stone, aretha, tina turner, james brown, a.k.a. all of my favorites. And we got to look at awesome art too!
Check out my pics from Rome here.
Barcelona was different than I had remembered it from a few years ago; probably because I was with two guys as my protector then! But, nonetheless, I had a wonderful time. Most importantly, I saw one of my best friends from GW, Michelle. We had a ball together! I spent my 21st birthday in Barcelona, and there was no better place to do so. We had dinner with a few other GW girls and a friend from Fieldson, Justin Forman. It was delicious and cheap. Then we went to a few bars, where after a few drinks I started speaking French to everyone and for some reason no one could understand me...oh, that's right; wrong country! The next day Michelle and I had lunch down at the harbor, listened to some music, and enjoyed the sunshine. Rather than try to go to every single "touristy" attractions, I really tried to immerse myself in the Catalan culture and just enjoy the city. However, I did make it to the Picasso Museum, the Miro Museum, Parc Montjuilc, the Ciutedella, and my personal favorite, the Chocolate Museum. While it was overcast and chilly almost every day, and I was assured it was the worst weather anyone had seen during their time this semester, I still had an awesome time.Click here to view my photos from Barcelona, including my birthday outfit mom...
When in Rome...
Sitting on my balcony of my funky hotel, having coffee (breakfast is included!) Taking in what looks to be a magnificent day. I almost forgot what sun felt like, but who could forget this.
Yesterday I wondered by myself which was surprisingly nice; started at 830 and went till 6! I went to Quirinale, where there are a bunch of churches I had studied, Palazzo Barberini to see art, got a panini and fanta and ate in Park Borghese, attempted to go to a museum there for the second time but you needed reservations, walked down the hill to the Spanish steps, strolled down Via del Corso where I wanted everything in the windows, went to another church in Piazzo del Popollo, then to another by the pantheon.
Then I met up with kelly and got caught in a downpour. We stopped for pizza and it was delicious of course. We went to a club, where we celebrated Mardi Gras but apparently no one else was!
Today I'm off to the vatican and possibly the forum. This city is amazing because old and new are so intertwined. Missing you all very very much, especially as this weekend approaches...
Lots of love from Roma,
Bisous
Thursday, February 19, 2009
Laissez moi tranquille
I wrote this for the Hatchet; you're lucky I'm giving you a sneak peak...
Oh, Paris. Yes, the bread and pastries are irresistible, the wine is good and cheap, and simply walking down a street leaves you smiling. I find comfort in the winding streets that lead to the Eiffel Tour from school, a slight pang in my heart for the things America does better, but I leave my apartment in the 16th arrondisement every day knowing that change is good.
On one of our first nights here, the student advisors organized a bar crawl in one of the popular neighborhoods, the Latin Quarter. We were led by a handsome, Lebanese, New Yorker, who insisted all night that 18-years-old was not too young for my friend, a 23-year-old graduate student. He also mentioned earlier in the day that French men love to go to tanning booths. My friend and I found this another reason to stay away from French men.
We were all out of our element, and loving it. What is most shocking to Americans here is not necessarily the price of everything (which is shocking enough), but how the rules of attraction are redefined.
The French learned that by merely mentioning Obama they could easily catch the eye of an American girl. As a good GW student through and through, we were up for talking politics while the French men took this as an invitation to aggressively pursue you on the dance floor. After that night, I had to learn how to say “leave me alone” in French, and when I asked my French professor a few days later, everyone erupted in laughter. I hoped they were as eager to know the answer as I was, rather than laughing at my incompetency.
After leaving the third bar, I found myself in a heated debate with three French boys over the quality of musicianship between Jay-Z and 50 Cent. I was outraged at the comparison, and told them that any person who chooses 50 Cent over Jay-Z is no friend of mine. The group was heading to the last bar, but the French boys continued to follow me and my friend, insisting we go to a “funky club” with them. I still don’t know what they were talking about.
A British freshmen, who had coincidentally been kicked out of GW last fall, told us to follow him into a nearby restaurant that the French boys wouldn’t be able to afford, and therefore would go away. We followed our new friend’s lead, and the French boys disappear. My friend and I took note of this new trick for future run-ins with the locals.
These new and unknown customs still come as a shock to me everyday, so I surround myself with familiar reminders of home. Whether that’s watching Grey’s Anatomy online or spending 11 euros (14$) on Oreo’s at an American grocery store, you do what you have to do to make yourself at home.
Oh, Paris. Yes, the bread and pastries are irresistible, the wine is good and cheap, and simply walking down a street leaves you smiling. I find comfort in the winding streets that lead to the Eiffel Tour from school, a slight pang in my heart for the things America does better, but I leave my apartment in the 16th arrondisement every day knowing that change is good.
On one of our first nights here, the student advisors organized a bar crawl in one of the popular neighborhoods, the Latin Quarter. We were led by a handsome, Lebanese, New Yorker, who insisted all night that 18-years-old was not too young for my friend, a 23-year-old graduate student. He also mentioned earlier in the day that French men love to go to tanning booths. My friend and I found this another reason to stay away from French men.
We were all out of our element, and loving it. What is most shocking to Americans here is not necessarily the price of everything (which is shocking enough), but how the rules of attraction are redefined.
The French learned that by merely mentioning Obama they could easily catch the eye of an American girl. As a good GW student through and through, we were up for talking politics while the French men took this as an invitation to aggressively pursue you on the dance floor. After that night, I had to learn how to say “leave me alone” in French, and when I asked my French professor a few days later, everyone erupted in laughter. I hoped they were as eager to know the answer as I was, rather than laughing at my incompetency.
After leaving the third bar, I found myself in a heated debate with three French boys over the quality of musicianship between Jay-Z and 50 Cent. I was outraged at the comparison, and told them that any person who chooses 50 Cent over Jay-Z is no friend of mine. The group was heading to the last bar, but the French boys continued to follow me and my friend, insisting we go to a “funky club” with them. I still don’t know what they were talking about.
A British freshmen, who had coincidentally been kicked out of GW last fall, told us to follow him into a nearby restaurant that the French boys wouldn’t be able to afford, and therefore would go away. We followed our new friend’s lead, and the French boys disappear. My friend and I took note of this new trick for future run-ins with the locals.
These new and unknown customs still come as a shock to me everyday, so I surround myself with familiar reminders of home. Whether that’s watching Grey’s Anatomy online or spending 11 euros (14$) on Oreo’s at an American grocery store, you do what you have to do to make yourself at home.
Les premiere semaines
I love Paris. It's beautiful, its embracing, it leaves you wanting more. The people have been living up to their stereotype unfortunately, but we're manging just fine. Speaking of we, that is
me and my roommate Ellie. Ellie's from Nebraska who i thankfully met through our mutual from Jen. For lack of better words, Ellie is the ying to my yang. Without her this past week, I wouldn't be able to laugh at the phone people who tell us to come back on Tuesday when it is only Thursday, to grimace at the mold on one of the apartments we looked at, or to laugh out loud at the bank teller when she told me today the machine worked this morning and to come back tomorrow, which has been their response to almost everything.
Anyways, after a week long adventure in the housing world (i'll spare you the details, but lets just say you were only supposed to go through 2 rounds of housing and we went through 7; we're legendary. i had many a fight with the housing director, i actually YELLED in her face) we have now settled into our wonderful, newly redone, everything brand new apartment in the 16th arrondisement. it's like living on the upper east side, which is perhaps why i feel so comfortable here.
For the inauguration we went to an american bar where i randomly ran into a friend from GW, which was so nice. We hooped and hollared, cried and screamed of excitement. I was the loud annoying american but i didn't care. when aretha franklin finished her superb rendition of america the beautiful, i had to encourage the rest of the bar to respect the queen of soul. it was a fantastic night, while all we wanted to do was be in washington, dc for that day, we made the best
of the separation. I actually teared up when I heard Wolf Blitzers voice.
Classes are good, not great, and makes me appreciate GW a bit more. My 19th/20th art professor snapped at me when I pointed out a Native American in a painting we were looking at, saying, "actually, they prefer american indian." someone missed a step...
The French do everything 5x slower than at home. I find myself constantly having to remind them that the business day concludes at 5 or 6 NOT 3 or 4. Come back tomorrow, they keep telling me.
BUT even after the unpoliticaly-correct professor, the weird business
style/lack of, and the long search for an apartment, I still am in
love with this city.
Bisous,
Remy
me and my roommate Ellie. Ellie's from Nebraska who i thankfully met through our mutual from Jen. For lack of better words, Ellie is the ying to my yang. Without her this past week, I wouldn't be able to laugh at the phone people who tell us to come back on Tuesday when it is only Thursday, to grimace at the mold on one of the apartments we looked at, or to laugh out loud at the bank teller when she told me today the machine worked this morning and to come back tomorrow, which has been their response to almost everything.
Anyways, after a week long adventure in the housing world (i'll spare you the details, but lets just say you were only supposed to go through 2 rounds of housing and we went through 7; we're legendary. i had many a fight with the housing director, i actually YELLED in her face) we have now settled into our wonderful, newly redone, everything brand new apartment in the 16th arrondisement. it's like living on the upper east side, which is perhaps why i feel so comfortable here.
For the inauguration we went to an american bar where i randomly ran into a friend from GW, which was so nice. We hooped and hollared, cried and screamed of excitement. I was the loud annoying american but i didn't care. when aretha franklin finished her superb rendition of america the beautiful, i had to encourage the rest of the bar to respect the queen of soul. it was a fantastic night, while all we wanted to do was be in washington, dc for that day, we made the best
of the separation. I actually teared up when I heard Wolf Blitzers voice.
Classes are good, not great, and makes me appreciate GW a bit more. My 19th/20th art professor snapped at me when I pointed out a Native American in a painting we were looking at, saying, "actually, they prefer american indian." someone missed a step...
The French do everything 5x slower than at home. I find myself constantly having to remind them that the business day concludes at 5 or 6 NOT 3 or 4. Come back tomorrow, they keep telling me.
BUT even after the unpoliticaly-correct professor, the weird business
style/lack of, and the long search for an apartment, I still am in
love with this city.
Bisous,
Remy
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