tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-43291019368537051912024-03-05T16:40:37.237+01:00An American Au Pair in Parisfollow me on Instagram @chelseatheaupairChelseahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03103889430771817665noreply@blogger.comBlogger27125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4329101936853705191.post-57759827103040004222016-08-03T00:55:00.000+02:002016-08-03T17:57:37.575+02:00land that I love<div class="MsoNormalCxSpFirst">
<span style="font-size: 18.6667px;">I’m sitting in the beautiful screened-in porch at my Aunt and Uncle’s house, comfortably stretched out on a cushy green lounge chair with my laptop, brand new Samsung Galaxy S7 Edge and a recently purchased North Carolina mug from Starbucks filled with my favorite flavor of Green Mountain Coffee…Island Coconut. You haven’t lived until you’ve tried this coffee. I can hear the thunder rolling in the distance on this partly gray, but very hot day. 84 degrees according to my phone. Even so, it’s hard to believe what I’m seeing and feeling. I can’t believe I’m here after all this time. I can’t believe I’m holding the new phone I’ve been wanting after carrying an old, unreliable, and quickly dying phone all around Paris for the past year. Or that I’m sipping coffee filled with liquid creamer. Or that I’m moved into my new, albeit temporary, home complete with a closet and my own bathroom. Did this past year really happen? Did I dream it? Did I really live those days where I was chilled to the bone, walking here and there in the cold rain, and then coming back to a house in the outskirts of one of the most beautiful cities in the world? Was that real?</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: 18.6667px;">That may sound silly, but I kid you not, since I’ve been home, there hasn’t been a moment when I’ve felt like I have been away for as long as I was. It has all felt so familiar to the point where I could have sworn I had just been there and seen the same faces the day before. But before I venture too far down the road of how life has been since my return, let me first go back and fill in the space between my last post and the day I came home….</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: 18.6667px;">My last week in Paris was beautiful weather. Hot, sunny, and very few clouds most days. The day of my last post was July 1st. I remember this day because after I published my latest blog, the day turned into one of the most horrendous days I’ve had overseas. It was one of those days where there wasn’t one huge thing that happened, but rather so many little things that added up to create the perfect storm of a sucky day. Problems with my storage unit in Lynchburg, problems with my house I’m renting out, forgetting important things, unintentionally wasting precious money, and the cherry on top of it all, trains not running as they should be running in Paris and having to Uber home. Having to hire an Uber when trains were down became more frequent the closer I got to home. So frustrating. Thankfully, the following two days, Saturday and Sunday, were wonderful. So my crappy day was quickly forgotten.</span><br />
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<span style="font-size: 18.6667px;">I had no intentions of wasting a minute of my last weekends in Paris. When I first arrived in France, I made a very extensive list of places I wanted to go. This list contained around 60 items, and I am so happy to say that I completed all but 3 of those items. Those items were the more expensive things that I will have to do when I come back one day. So I set out that day with about 8 things on my list, and I thought I’d just go with the flow and do as many as I could. My first stop was Sainte-Chapelle, which was a royal chapel back in medieval times. It is located on the Ile de la Cité, a small island in the middle of the Seine where Notre Dame is also located. I had several people tell me to go here, and from the moment I went upstairs, I understood why. The chapel is wall to wall stained glass, the most beautiful stained glass I had ever seen. Starting from the left, from bottom to top, the stained glass tells the story of creation all the way through Jesus’ life, death, and resurrection. It was incredible. My pictures don’t even do it justice.</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14pt;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Next to Sainte-Chapelle is the Conciergerie,
which is a former prison and the last place where Marie Antoinette was held
before she was executed. I love the history of the French monarchy, particularly
Marie Antoinette and Louis XVI, so to stand in the place where her prison cell once
stood was a really cool experience for me. Once I saw her chambers, I walked
around and looked through the old cells and what they would have looked like
back in her time. I have to say…I’m happy I never had to live in those
conditions. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14pt;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">After I left the Conciergerie, I walked
North toward the Right Bank of Paris. As I crossed the Seine, the police had a
small barricade set up across the sidewalk and I couldn’t figure out why. They
checked my purse and let me carry on, and then I walked right into a massive
LGBT festival that stretched from the Ile de la Cité west toward the Louvre. I
realized then why the police had checked my bag. For a while I walked along the
packed street, seeing people from all walks of life holding and wearing rainbow
flags. After a while, as I started to get toward the densest part of the crowd
where the central location of the festivities seemed to be happening, I started
to feel like I should probably distance myself. Keep in mind, the Orlando
attacks had just happened about 3 weeks prior to this day, and if you watch the
news carefully, ISIS is in no way finished its attacks on France (the Nice
attacks had not yet happened at this point). All I kept thinking was here are
thousands of people standing close together out in the open in Paris promoting
ideals that ISIS has vowed to attack. I can’t really say I was scared, because
scared implies that I was afraid for my safety at that particular moment. But I
was feeling cautious, so I took the stairs down to the river bank and walked along
the river as the parade carried on above me. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14pt;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Looking back, this is just one example of
the ways I feel like my mindset has shifted in terms of being cautious in this
current world we live in, where ISIS had threatened pretty much every group
that is not ISIS itself. I hate that I felt the need to steer clear of crowds
of people I don’t necessarily agree with, or crowds of people in general, to be
honest. But that’s where my head was, and still is. I tell people now that I
felt a little like I was living in a war zone or an occupied city. You have to
carry on with life as if everything is ok, but you always have your eyes
peeled. You’re always feeling out a crowd or separating yourself from one or
just being cautious on the metro or wherever. Maybe not everyone living in
Paris felt that way, but as someone who watches the news daily, I definitely
was constantly paying attention. Perhaps in that moment, I wouldn’t have
thought twice if the Orlando attacks, which targeted this specific group, had
not just happened. I don’t know. But even now, I would still mention to those
in airports or cities or Paris itself to be careful and to pay attention. Part
of me thinks it’s crazy that I’m that paranoid. But then again, am I paranoid
or am I realistic? I guess the Nice attacks that happened just a couple weeks
later would point to me being realistic. This is the world we are living in,
folks, and if living in Europe for the past year has influenced my thinking at
all, then this would have to be the most significant way. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14pt;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">I found my way to a Starbucks near the Louvre
off of the Rue de Rivoli, a really beautiful area. After I arrived and sat here
reading for a bit, my friend Hannah, the LUO alum, texted me and said she and
her friend who was visiting were about to head to the Cimetière du Père
Lachaise and later to the Moulin Rouge. So I met up with them for the rest of
the day. When we got there, I could see why it is the world’s most visited
cemetery. It was absolutely beautiful. There was a beautiful view from the top
of the hill, and the tombs alone were lovely. Such a quiet beauty in this
place. So many were centuries old, but there were a few new plots as well. The
likes of Jim Morrison, Oscar Wilde, and Frédéric Chopin are buried here. I
could have wandered around here for hours, and meant to go back before I left
but I ran out of time. The most significant grave I saw was not one of a famous
musician or author or composer, but rather a small plot covered in flowers and
photos. There was a single visitor about my age, maybe younger, sitting on the
edge of the curb, smoking a cigarette and dabbing her eyes with a tissue, just
staring at the photo of a young, beautiful girl. I walked past her a couple of
times on my way to find Jim Morrison’s grave, but it wasn’t until I walked past
her the last time that I read the plaque propped up on the grave. This grave
belonged to a girl who died at the Bataclan on November 13, 2015. ISIS took
this girl’s life. That was the moment when everything came full circle for me. Most
people have moved on with their lives after the heinous acts of that night, but
this visitor lost a friend or family member and is still there mourning that
loss. It’s so unfair, but that’s the world we unfortunately live in. After we
left the cemetery, we headed to the Moulin Rouge. We got a few photos in front
of it, and after that it started to pour and we hopped in an Uber and had it
take us up the hill in Montmarte to a quaint little Italian restaurant. It was
sooo good and a fun and relaxing night out with friends. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14pt;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Later that week, I had to say goodbye to a
lot of friends. The hardest goodbye that week was to my friend Amanda who has
been my right hand in pretty much everything since we both arrived in
September. She and her family are in Paris for about 3 years, but they were
heading back to the States for a 3 week vacation, so that Tuesday, we had our
last hang out at her house over tea, croissants, pain au chocolat, and country
music. My last weekend in July was wonderful. We had great weather, and I filled
my days with lots of relaxing things. I visited the Army Museum which was
really awesome, and I saw Napoleon Bonaparte’s tomb. I also visited some of my
favorite places and just strolled around some of the most beautiful parts of
Paris. On my last Sunday in the city, I was invited by my friend Julian to a
picnic near the Louvre. We sat there for 4 hours, which sounds like a lot but I’m
telling ya…this is normal life for a lot of people living in Paris. Grab food
and drinks, and go have a picnic. No place to be, just hanging out and
relaxing, and letting the hours roll by without any concern for the time.
Definitely not something you find very often, if ever, in America. And there
are so many beautiful places in Paris just to sit and people watch. I do
remember sitting there regretting not having more beautiful days where I could
have done that more often. But as many French people said to me, I was really
unlucky with the year I chose to come, in terms of the weather. Yeah, thanks, I’m
aware. After our picnic, I went with our little group to watch the Euro 2016
final between France and Portugal. There was a lot of hype leading up to this
event, and it was a lot of fun watching from the street outside a little pub
because it was too packed to stand inside. However, France lost. I saw some
beers thrown and heard lots of cursing over this haha. But it was still fun to
witness. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14pt;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">My last work week was a short one. After my
final day of taking care of G, and that moment of realization that I had no
more responsibilities and could just go and do what I wanted, I think that’s
when it hit me that my time was over. I went out into the city and saw as much
of my friends as I could. On Bastille Day, I walked around by myself the
majority of the day. I started at Place de la Concorde and walked all the way
up the Champs-Élysées to the Arc du Triomphe, then made my way back down again.
I stopped when I heard a really great performer standing in the middle of the
Champs singing some popular English songs, so I sat down and enjoyed a free
mini concert for the next hour and a half. After that, I wandered around then
ended up in Jardin des Tuileries for a couple hours, just people watching and
eating Amorino gelato. MmmmMMMM so good. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14pt;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">After that, my friend Isabelle joined me
and we made our way toward the Eiffel Tower to watch the fireworks. It was
PACKED. I mean, I expected this, but holy crap. I’ve never been to Times Square
on New Year’s Eve, but from what I’ve seen on TV, it was exactly the same.
People squeezed together like sardines. Oy vey. In order to get to the Champs
de Mars, the long green field in front of the Eiffel Tower, there were two
checkpoints where they checked bags. I mean, you read what I wrote above about
crowds and being cautious, so you can imagine this would also be a prime occasion
for some type of attack. After we passed the checkpoints, we literally couldn’t
find a spot that we could clearly see the tower, so we walked as far back as we
could go, away from the tower, to the very end of the Champs de Mars. From
here, we had a decent view of the tower from the second floor up. The fireworks
started at 11 PM, because it literally isn’t dark enough for fireworks until
that late. I love how light it stays outside until that far into the evening. I
miss that. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14pt;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">So as the show is getting started, there is
a concert or song we can hear from a stage we can’t see playing the national
anthem and some other songs. That’s when something strange happened, that
actually sparked real fear into me for the first time. From where we were
standing, we saw across a distance of a couple hundred feet smoke rising in the
middle of a crowd. We didn’t hear any loud bangs or shouting, but the people
near this smoke started scattering in all directions. Like dominos, people started
running, without knowing why, they just turned and ran because they saw others
turning and running. Me and Isabelle did the same thing. As we are watching this
unfold, the people in front of us turned around and started running toward us,
so we grabbed each other’s hand and ran for it. We didn’t run far, until we
turned and tried to see what happened, because again, we didn’t hear anything.
There was no explosion or crazy screaming happening. We turned around and didn’t
see anything. I still don’t know, but I assume someone had a smoke bomb or
something of that nature and whether intentionally or unintentionally, freaked
out a lot of people. I have to admit, my hands were shaking for a good 10
minutes after this. But we walked back to our spot, and the show started.
Seriously…the best firework show I have ever seen, and am convinced, ever will
see. It was incredible. I still haven’t had time to post my videos from that
night. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14pt;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">After the show, it was about 11:40, and we
made our way along with thousands of other people toward the metros to go home.
It was so packed, and neither of us felt like standing on a packed metro
platform, so we decided to hang out at one of the restaurants near us for a
while until things cleared. There, we met up with my friends Alicia and Rachel,
who we had tried to find before the show, but couldn’t. we sat there and had a
drink, and that’s when Isabelle got a text and told us all about what happened
in Nice. I pulled out my phone, and looked up the news articles myself about
some maniac driving through a crowd in Nice as they watched Bastille Day
fireworks. My heart was sad, but still, I wish I could say I was surprised, but
I wasn’t. I’m not longer surprised by these attacks. Every day I open the news,
I half expect to see another attack as the main headline. I’m no longer
shocked, though my outrage is still growing. When is this going to end? I don’t
know. By that point, I had people who only saw the words “attack,” “France,”
and “Bastille Day,” messaging me asking if I was ok. I assured everyone that I
was since Nice is in the south of France and Paris is in the north. But still,
I appreciated those who reached out because they cared. But thankfully, I had
one day left and I would be leaving France. I know that nowhere is really “safe”
from these attacks, as we have seen our own country fall victim to ISIS related
incidents. But still, being away in a country that has seen so many, and even
after coming home the attack on the priest that happened an hour and a half
from my home in Paris, I was thankful to be back on US soil. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14pt;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">My last day in Paris was emotional. I
teared up on more than one occasion. I went to Holybelly for the last time, got
the savory stack of pancakes, walked around the city that I had grown to love,
even though I was ready to be home, and enjoyed the last steps I’d take during
this adventure. My last item to do was to see the Tour Eiffel for the last
time. So I took the metro to Trocadéro, took some photos, and just stared and
reflected on this past year. “I did it.” I thought. “I did it and I finished
strong. I didn’t give up.” <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14pt;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">I made my way back to the house to finish
packing and to spend the rest of the evening with my host family. I miss my
little buddy G. It was hard to say goodbye, and it was obvious he was bummed I
was leaving too. As the hours ticked away, I was so excited I could barely
sleep that night. After about 3 or 4 hours, I woke up, packed up the last bits of
my things, and called an Uber to take me to the airport. I remember every
moment of that ride. Pulling away from the house and looking back at it for the
last time; leaving Houilles for good; pulling up to the airport and checking my
giant suitcases; sitting in the waiting area and fidgeting while watching the
clock when I could finally step on that plane home. I took Icelandair home, and
had purchased a middle class ticket. Long story short, when I had chosen my
seat online, I ended up getting a first class chair, even though my service was
still middle class. This. was. AWESOME. I mean who cares about first class
service, when all people really want is the bigger, cushier seats. I was quite
comfortable the entire way home. We stopped over in Iceland, and I had about an
hour until my next flight. I got some of Iceland’s yummy chocolate and finally,
FINALLY boarded the flight that would take me back to America. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14pt;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Once we landed, the minutes seemed to crawl
by as I went through immigration and security and waiting for my bags. But
finally, this moment that I had daydreamed about for months, was about to come
true…I walked through the doors and saw my family waiting for me (color
coordinated, by the way). That was one of the best feelings and best hugs ever.
I couldn’t stop smiling. My sister had a bottle of Cheerwine waiting for me in
the car and my first meal in America was Chick-fil-a. Ahhhh that sweet tea
tasted like heaven. Over the next week and a half, I was home with my family,
enjoying relaxing days on the lake, my favorite American foods, and seeing my
family and my best friend Sarah. But it felt like I was on vacation, and it
wasn’t until I actually drove down to Lynchburg last Wednesday that it started
to feel real. I came home at Christmas, but I hadn’t been to Lynchburg since
last September. What felt weird was that it felt like I had just been there. It
didn’t feel like it had been nearly a year since I had driven those roads or
seen the faces of my friends. I stopped by my old office and saw some familiar
faces, and it just felt so comfortable. I had a great day in Lynchburg, and was
able to go by my storage unit and see the contents of my house piled into a
10x20 box. I’m still living the nomad life since I don’t have my own place yet,
but it was still nice to see my furniture, as strange as that sounds. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14pt;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">On Thursday, I drove down to Chapel Hill,
where I will be temporarily living with my Aunt and Uncle until I find a job and
can save money for my own place. To be honest, I don’t think life will feel
normal or like I’m “at home” again until I have a job and can finally get all
my stuff out of storage and into my own place. Hopefully that will be soon. Friday,
I made my way to Asheville for the weekend for my Grandma’s 75<sup>th</sup>
birthday. We had a girls weekend and visited the Biltmore Estate, and it was
such a fun time with my mom, sister, grandma, aunt, and cousin. We had tons of
fun. But Sunday night, finally, I made my way back to Chapel Hill and unpacked
my bags. I have been living out of suitcases since I was in Paris, and that’s
not really fun at all. Now I at least have a closest and a dresser and my own
bathroom, and it’s starting to feel homey. But it has only been a few days. I’ve
had fun hanging out with my cousin here before she goes back to school in a
couple weeks. We went to Raleigh yesterday, my first time in the city, and had
fun exploring together.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14pt;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">As I sit here, I don’t think it has fully
hit me yet that I’m back. Or that I left to begin with. I feel like I have
changed in so many ways, and yet after waiting and waiting and longing to be
back, it’s so odd to actually be back. Like it felt like I was waiting for
something that would never happen, but then it does happen. I definitely miss
Paris, but I don’t miss living there full time. There are things and people I
miss very much. I mean it’s a gorgeous city with so much to see and do, and I miss
how beautiful the buildings and scenery were, and I can vividly remember how
grateful I felt to be standing in the middle of the city having been able to
live in Paris for this past year. I’m so thankful. So so so thankful. It was
wonderful. But the day to day living, the having to rely on trains and walking,
the weather, and so many other things, those are the things that are hard to explain
to those who just could not understand why I was ready to come home. I missed
the day to day living, the lifestyle, the driving, the culture of America. This
is where I want to live full time. I hope to visit Paris every year or at least
every other year from now until I die. I love it that much. But I just want to
visit. I have now been to 9 countries. I have seen 9 different cultures and
ways of life. I have seen and interacted with so many fascinating and kind
people, and have appreciated the opportunity to experience so much. But after
traveling the world and loving every minute of it, after diving feet first into
other ways of life, after craving adventure and still wanting to see more of
this world, there’s only one place that is home for me. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14pt;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">The United States of America….yes, this is
where my roots belong. This is the land I love above all others. This is where
I want to live and die. This is where my heart lies. I’ve always been a
patriotic person, but after living abroad, my appreciation and patriotism has
reached new peaks. I love my country more than ever before. I love our values
and our way of life. I love what we stand for and what we believe in. And I
have never been more proud to be born and raised as an American. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14pt;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Thank you to every single person who
supported my journey and followed my year through my blog posts and Instagram
photos. You all are the ones that kept me going, encouraged me, kept me
focused, and reminded me that what I was doing was so unique and special. Thank
you so much for motivating me to get out and to write about what I saw and did.
You all will never know what it meant to me.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14pt;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">This is Chelsea the Au Pair officially
signing off. Next time I go on an adventure, I’ll be sure to keep you posted.
Bisous!</span><span style="font-family: "bell mt" , serif; font-size: 14pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
Chelseahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03103889430771817665noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4329101936853705191.post-68414905355753062202016-07-01T13:37:00.000+02:002016-07-01T15:47:57.878+02:00old towns and ball gownsBonjour everybody!<br />
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It's crazy to believe that this is going to be my last post before I'm back on American soil. I will write at least one more after this one, but for my final post to wrap up this incredible year, I want to write it from home to really reflect on my time in France. I feel like being able to look at this past year from the point of view of my "normal life" will be interesting for me to do, and will probably show hints of how I have changed because of this experience. I may do one more post several months down the road to see if anything has stuck with me in the long term, but I won't know that until I am back in my normal routine.<br />
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A lot has happened since my post about Normandy. June has been a bit more gracious to the locals, though not nearly as much as we would like. Right now, I'm looking out at yet another relentlessly gray day, and while it is no longer cold enough to require a jacket, it's still chilly enough to wear a few layers of long sleeves. We've had a few sunny days, and some have felt very hot, but I assure you, it is not "summer" here, but feels more like how April would feel back home. Certainly not July 1st, which is the middle of summer and when people back home are flocking to lakes and beaches. I posted a few news articles about just how terrible the weather has been this spring. I know I complain about it a lot, but I promise you, it's justified. This spring has been a record wet and chilly one. The worst for 116 years. May was the wettest month of May Paris has seen in 146-ish years, which contributed to the Seine rising to flood level and causing damage, delays, and the closure of several metros. I even had one local neighbor I frequently walk with when taking G to school say to me that I picked a bad year to come. Great, thanks. So it's not just me. Even the locals, my French friend Isabelle can attest to this, have had it with this weather. When you think of Paris, there is an image that likely comes to mind of walking along the Seine, picnicking along the canals, or strolling through the beautiful gardens with a good book while the sun happily shines down. Or perhaps sitting outside at one of the hundreds of sidewalk cafés with <i>un vin rouge </i>or<i> un café, </i>chatting with friends and people watching. That's the image I had, and while I have done all of those things, I certainly haven't done them as frequently as I had envisioned. I guess it just makes those times I was able to do them that much sweeter. But for those who ask me why I am so ready to leave the City of Light, this is why. I want my summer, I miss my friends and family, and I am sick and tired of the rain and gloom. My soul can't take it anymore, even with the marginally improved temperatures. With the weather, union strikes, train delays and frequent maintenance, flooding, and unfortunate continual threat of terrorist attacks, I can't honestly be blamed for saying "check, please!" I can't tell you how excited I am, in particular, to get away from public transport haha.<br />
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But looking back on June, it is easily the best month I've had my entire year in France. From my trip to Normandy, to being able to shed my jacket, to visiting the small medieval town of Provins, and of course, the masquerade at Versailles, this is the month I will think back to when I'm in the States fondly reminiscing about my adventure overseas.<br />
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The weekend after my visit to Normandy, my host mom went out of town for a week. She went on her first international trip outside of Europe for a work trip to the USA. It was fun for me to see her go to my home country and hear about her experiences when she returned. She spent most of the week in DC, and one day in NYC. She loved DC and can't wait to bring the rest of the family next year when they hopefully come visit again, since the rest of them haven't been to America either. One thing she mentioned when she got back to Paris made me laugh, because it was something I noticed the French didn't do that Americans always do, and I have been meaning to talk about it all year. I didn't even ask her about this, she noticed it on her own. She noticed that everyone on their way to work was holding a travel mug of coffee. She then imitated a person standing, waiting for a metro or walking with a travel mug in hand. I laughed and told her I thought the same thing when I moved here, but with the opposite thought. In America, we love our coffee. Now, the French love coffee too, but when they drink theirs, they sit. In the U.S., we tend to grab our coffee and go, or for those who do sit and have a cup in the morning (or a cup while getting ready like me), you probably still take cup #2 on the road. During my first week or two in France, I found it so odd that no one, and I mean NO ONE, was holding a travel mug full of coffee on the train platform as they made their morning commute to work. "Do none of these people drink coffee? No one is holding coffee...." was my initial thought. Now that I've been here long enough, I know it's because they all get up early enough for breakfast and sit and enjoy their morning cup of joe. And their coffees are TINY. "What is this tiny cup? Get me a real mug!" I have found myself thinking on a number of occasions. I'm not really a fan of French coffee for that reason. Yeah, it's good once I add milk and sugar, but I've never been able to drink black coffee, and I miss coffee creamer (which apparently is only a thing in the USA). But I'm American, damnit. I need my coffee, and I need it in large quantities. So if there is any more question as to why I'm such a frequent visitor at Starbucks when I live in a city where coffee is sacred, now you know. Starbucks serves a normal size cup.<br />
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The day after my host mom returned from the US, my friend Isa and I headed about an hour east of Paris to the charming little medieval village of Provins. A few weeks before our visit were medieval festivals, which I would have loved to see. But they do have 2 permanent shows for those who visit during other times of the year. The first was a show with a number of trained birds. I couldn't understand what the show itself was about, and Isabelle tried to translate a lot of it for me, but for the most part it was a demonstration with all types of birds. Owls, vultures, eagles, just to name a few. I found this pretty cool until these trained birds started swooping over the heads of the audience. I'm not normally afraid of birds at all, but when I have to duck because vulture and vulture is flying about 6 inches above my head...yeah, I'm gonna freak out a bit. One bird actually brushed Isa's hair into her face. They were well trained, so I knew I wasn't in danger, but each type of bird that came out would just fly over us for a while. The vultures they let fly back and forth for about 10 minutes, one after another. Afterward, you could walk through the cages of the birds from the show. I saw a beautiful eagle up close and an owl that could have passed for Hedwig from Harry Potter. The vultures were so creepy looking, but there were some adorable baby birds fresh from the womb.<br />
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Hedwig?</div>
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From here, we made our way to a medieval show that was a play of sorts. There were jousting demonstrations and a storyline that was interesting even if it was hard for me to follow. But we had a great time enjoying the show and seeing the medieval structures and games. After the show, we walked through the town, and I couldn't help singing "Little Town" from Beauty and the Beast. We found a cute little crêperie on the town square and had some tea and crêpes, before continuing our walk near the church. We passed the Tour César, a watchtower and former prison, built somewhere around the 11th century. What I really loved was a little boutique we stopped in, which was full of rose products. Provins has a very well-known economy of producing products from roses. Rose petal jam, rose honey (which I deeply regret not purchasing), rose candy, rose jelly, rose tea, rose soap...it all smelled incredible. I opted for a rose lollipop, which was wonderful and I wish I had grabbed a handful, some rose tea, and a bar of rose artisan soap. I wish I could go back and buy all of it. After we left the boutique, we walked along the medieval ramparts that surrounded the city and snapped some pictures of the beautiful view of the French countryside. Overall, very excellent day trip and I'd highly recommend it.<br />
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The following weekend was the big event I have been anticipating for over 2 months, the masquerade ball at Château de Versailles. When my friend Amanda first pitched this idea to me, my heart started hammering because I HAD to do this. I have secretly always dreamed of going to a masquerade, but who would have ever thought I would actually get to go to one. And not only go to one, but go to one at Versailles in baroque period costumes! I told Amanda then that if she didn't go with me, I was still going on my own haha. But she and her hubs came, and we met up with her friends from college who originally told her about it since they were flying in from the States to attend. Seriously one of the most fun nights, and worth all the stress of finding a costume, figuring out our hair and makeup, and the rest of the planning, time, and money that went into making the night a reality. Worth. every. penny. Amanda's friends had opted for the highest level ticket, which included a parking pass right outside of the Orangerie, which is the part of the Palace where the event took place. They weren't using it, so they gave it to Amanda. So we pull up to the parking spot and couldn't have been closer to the event. We were still pretty early because we wanted to come and take photos when the light was best. There were about 5 other cars when we arrived and we parked about 50 feet from the entrance. That's VIP parking if I ever saw it. We walk in, and the event didn't start till 11:30, so we were directed to the gardens above for the fireworks show which took place around 11. It was about 8:30 or so at this point, but we were able to take our time walking around, taking amazing photos, and getting stared at by visitors having no idea what was going on and why there were so many people in costume. Some of the costumes we saw were absolutely incredible and elaborate. I know if I ever come to this event again (which I'd like to do), I will be in good company for going all out. We even saw some guy dressed as Louis XIV (I believe) and tourists were stopping him one after another for photos. We had a few come up to us and ask to take pictures with us or of us. It was fun. :)<br />
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Once the fireworks started, we all sat on the ground and just enjoyed the show. Amanda had her nice camera with her and got a spectacular photo of them. Versailles knows how to put on a show, I'll tell you that. After the show, we found Amanda's friends and made our way to the ball. In the Orangerie, there is a cavernous long hallway that has enormous windows that look out onto the Orangerie gardens. The hall was made of stone and lined with gorgeous chandeliers. When we walked in, the first thing we see is "beauty and the beast" which was the theme of the event this year. The beast was enclosed in a glass structure playing the piano, while Belle was standing on top of it dancing near a table with an rose enclosed in glass on top of it. Past beauty and the beast were about half a dozen women dancers standing near horses taken from a carousel, all wearing long flowing skirts with the sides exposed, and completely topless except for the silver pasties hiding their nips. Alrighty, then. lol In the center of the hall was a group of dancers, dancing a coordinated routine. These routines changed every 30 minutes or so throughout the entire night. Some were really cool, like the one I recorded with 1920s era music, and others were more burlesque type dancing. We walked to the end of the hall where the VIP section was located. Me, Amanda and her husband purchased the middle level VIP tickets (about half the price of the highest ticket), which gave us access to 2 glasses of champagne, a table with food and desserts, and two huge sofa beds full of pillows to lounge on when we needed a break. After we got some food, the dance party started so we wandered around and danced for hours. We went outside for a bit and walked around the Orangerie, but for June 25th, it was pretty chilly. They had a roaring fire going, but it was pretty crowded around it, so we went back inside to keep dancing. Amanda's husband had a flight to catch the next day, so he left around 3 AM. At dawn, there was going to be breakfast served, but around 5 AM or so, Amanda and I were ok with calling it a night. When we left the event, we had a pretty frustrating experience getting back to Amanda's apartment, but I'll leave the details of it out because I'm pretty sure she and I both want to forget about it and not let it taint our memories of a wonderful evening lol. All in all, I'd definitely attend this annual event again if ever I get the chance. You can tell that Versailles spares no expense when it comes to this masquerade. Definitely an experience I'll never forget, and a party I'm not sure any other will ever match. I can't believe after months of counting the days to this event, it's over and now nearly a week after.<br />
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They had these bubble machines going all over the place</div>
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So there you have it folks. A wonderful month, overall, but still overshadowed by my anticipation to be home and to see my friends and family. I'm trying not to wish my time away, but seriously, I haven't seen my family since Christmas, and none of my Lynchburg friends since September. I miss my people. On the day I return, it'll be nearly 7 months since I was in the States, and nearly 10 since driving out of Lynchburg. I'm excited to start my life in the Triangle, and would still appreciate prayers for a job. I hope you all enjoyed this post, especially since it'll be the last one I write on this side of the pond. See you in 15 days America! And happy early birthday! Wish I could be there on the 4th, one of my favorite holidays. Someone eat a hotdog and have a slice of apple pie in my honor.<br />
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À bientôt! Bisous!Chelseahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03103889430771817665noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4329101936853705191.post-67448850813014061062016-06-06T20:02:00.000+02:002016-06-07T15:25:36.798+02:00Normandy and Omaha Beach<div class="MsoNormal">
Today is the 72<sup>nd</sup> anniversary of D’Day, when the
Allied Forces landed on the beaches of Normandy. So many lost their lives that
day, but their sacrifice ensured our freedom, and that’s a debt we can never
repay. I feel so honored to have been able to visit the beaches this weekend.</div>
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I have been looking forward to visiting Normandy since my
first day in France. It has been at the top of my must-do list before returning
to the States, and for a while I wasn’t sure how I would be able to get there
and if I’d have to go alone. I am so so thankful for my friend Isabelle who not
only offered to drive, but invited a couple other friends who were just as
excited to go as I was, made sure we had packed lunches and booked our Airbnb (an
adorable house about 12 minutes from Omaha Beach). She drove the entire time and
made sure we were all having a good time. So to Isa, thank you for not only
making this weekend possible, but for making it a weekend I will never forget. <o:p></o:p></div>
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I don’t even know where to start. I took over 750 photos and
saw and participated in so much, that it’s hard to pinpoint where to begin. I
suppose the first thing that stuck out to me was on the drive to Omaha Beach.
Once we reached a certain point, nearly every house that we passed displayed the
American flag. There is so much gratitude toward Americans in this part of
France, and it was humbling to see my own country’s flag everywhere I looked. <o:p></o:p></div>
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We pulled into the parking lot, and the sky was still pretty
gray and cast a chill in the air. We walked over to the memorial on the beach,
appropriately named “The Brave,” and that was the first look at Omaha Beach. I
couldn’t believe I was finally standing there after wanting to come for so
long. And here I was. Facing the water, I couldn’t help but imagine how different
the same spot must have looked 72 years before. Not the tranquil, quiet beach
we were looking at, but somewhere dangerous and war-torn. When I looked behind
me, I could see these lovely green hills overlooking the ocean, but all I could
picture were guns pointed toward the incoming American soldiers. It was a
somber moment for me, standing there realizing that this same beautiful beach I
was looking at was once covered in bodies and blood, and the sky was filled
with gun fire and smoke. These soldiers were so young and their lives were cut
so short. How did they mentally prepare themselves for that day? Knowing that
as soon as those boats made it close enough to shore, that it could very well
be their last moments, which was the truth for so many. How do you dig deep
enough within yourself to find the strength and bravery to do what they did,
despite the fear they must have felt? I have no idea. But I’m so thankful for
what they did that day. <o:p></o:p></div>
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I brought home some sand from in front of the monument as
gifts for some very special solider family and friends of mine. After taking
some photos around the main area, we walked along the beach, then came back
toward the monument to eat the picnic we packed. By this point, the sky was
finally starting to clear and the sun was beginning to feel warm. This is the
first blue sky and sunshine I’d see in a week and a half, and we were so happy.
After we finished eating, we decided to shed our jackets and walk along the
beach to the American Cemetery. It was quite a hike, but by now the sky was
clear and the sun was getting hot, so we were just so happy to be outside. We
had a great time walking and talking and taking photos along the way. About an
hour or so later, we make it to the bottom of the hill in front of the
cemetery. We walked along the path, and saw that the gate was closed (none of
us seemed to notice that there was a temporary sign that said this was closed
for security reasons, but I noticed it when going through my photos). So we got
creative, and hiked to the top of the hill, and trekked through a beautiful
field that was beside the cemetery. Seriously, it was gorgeous up there.<br /></div>
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We walked around to the main entrance and into the visitor’s center. We took our time walking up and down the rows of displays and films being played, then made our way outside toward the monument. As I reached the top, I was just in time to see a Scottish band begin playing for about 10 minutes. I love bagpipes, so this was a pleasant surprise, and we enjoyed sitting there listening to them play. At this point, we all dispersed and began wandering around on our own and taking photos. I just couldn’t believe I was actually standing there after wanting to come for so long. After a half hour or so, I hear planes in the distance. Thankfully, I had my camera in hand, because all of the sudden, planes started flying low over the cemetery. Like…REALLY low. I think there were 5 planes that passed over us, then did a few more passes while we were there. It was so awesome.<br />
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As you leave the American Cemetery, you can find this inscription on a wall of the visitor's center, which I loved:</div>
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"You can manufacture weapons and you can purchase ammunition, but you can't buy valor and you can't pull heroes off an assembly line."</div>
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Sergeant John B. Ellery</div>
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U.S. 1st Infantry Division</div>
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After we left the cemetery, we made our way back down to the
beach and walked back toward the monument where we were parked. We drove to our
Airbnb for the night to drop our stuff and chill for a while. There were so
many events happening that weekend, and we had a guide that told us what
festivities were happening and where. We found a festival in Sainte-Mère-Église.
This little village played a significant part during the Normandy landings,
particularly with the paratroopers, many of which lost their lives while
descending over this town. When we got to the square near the church, there were
people and soldiers from the US, France, and Germany everywhere. There was
music from the 1940s playing, and the smell and smoke of sausages on the grill
hung in the air. We walked around for a bit, and ended up standing in line for
sausages and fries…which was the only thing any of the tents sold. Not sure why
haha. But as we were standing there, a US soldier got in line behind us. Isabelle
could hear the French guy behind him trying to talk to him, and she intervened
to translate. We all got to chatting, and we ended up following him over to his
friends, who we spent the rest of the night chatting with. We all had so much
fun, and the entire night ended with an amazing fireworks show over the square.
It was a perfect day.<br />
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The next day, we went back to Sainte-Mère-Église for the
paratrooping event. The soldiers we met were selected to participate in this event
among others, which is why they were there. The day started off chilly and
cloudy again, but ended up really hot at one point (my poor face is currently
sunburned). We enjoyed another round of sausage dogs and fries and watched the paratroopers jump from their planes and sail to the ground. After this
event, there was a ceremony commemorating the occasion, and we ended up running
into the same group from the night before. One of them gave us some of his
patches and pins as we left, which was something we noticed the night before. A
lot of the locals would come up to the soldiers and ask for patches, or the
soldiers from one country would trade with those from another. Although wearing
a service member’s uniform in the States would be considered disrespectful, I asked
one of the guys we were talking to if it was different here, because so many of
the locals were dressed up in military gear. He said that here it wasn’t since
they were basically honoring the soldiers at this event. There was a store open
right next to us that sold military gear and uniforms, so we finally figured
out where the locals were finding the stuff they were wearing. But it was
really endearing to see them approach the servicemembers from each country to
shake their hands and ask for photos. We stayed in Sainte-Mère-Église until
about 5 PM on Sunday. A parade was about to start, but we had to skip it so we
could get on the road and go home. It was such a bummer to leave because the
energy and camaraderie among both soldiers and civilians at these events was
something I was so grateful to be a part of. I’ll never forget it. <br /></div>
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We weren't able to visit any museums or some other important
sights, but it just makes me that much more excited to return one day. Normandy
is beautiful. The entire region is just so quaint and lovely. If ever you have the
opportunity to visit, do it. You won’t be disappointed. And I highly recommend
planning a trip around this time of year when these same events are going on.</div>
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But back to Paris we went. Back to the oppressively cloudy skies
and rainy days. Not sure if everyone has heard, but Paris has flooded. The
Seine rose to 20 feet above it’s normal level and washed out the embankments,
some roads and metros, and some museums and other sites had to close. But apparently
the water level is lowering now, but I think we are still supposed to have rain
for the next few days. My rain-soaked soul is ready for consistent warmth and
sunshine. It’s June, I shouldn’t be outside in a coat. <o:p></o:p></div>
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I feel like May was a blur. After returning from Barcelona,
we had a few beautiful and very warm days where I could walk around in a dress
and enjoy some afternoons picnicking with friends along the canals. Me and a
couple friends were finally able to visit Giverny, which was just as beautiful
as I had hoped it would be, although it was packed. It’s not the tranquil, uncrowded
scene that the movie Midnight in Paris displays. Nope. Lots of school groups
and tourists hanging about. But it was a gorgeous place, and totally worth the trip. The actual town of Giverny was so small and picturesque. It was the perfect charming little French provincial town. <o:p></o:p></div>
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Another friend from high school who was in my graduating
class visited Paris a couple weeks ago. Adam has been traveling solo and stayed
in Paris for a few days. We had one good weather day, but unfortunately the
torrential downpours that caused the flooding started during his trip. He says
he still had fun though. I’d probably have cried if that was my first trip to
Paris, but he was a good sport. It was fun playing the tour guide though, even
though we walked a ton and it wore me out lol.<o:p></o:p></div>
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I can’t believe my time in Paris is nearly over. I literally
can’t believe it is June and that I’ll be home soon. 40 days from today, 5
weeks and 5 days from now, I’ll be on US soil for the first time in what will
then be 7 months. I can’t wait to see my friends and family, and get back to
normalcy. But hopefully I’ll be able to jam as much as I can into the coming
weeks (including the masquerade at Versailles!), and enjoy probably the last
time I will ever have this much freedom and time to travel and do what I want
without having a career or other responsibilities. </div>
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Not too many blog posts
left! Hard to believe. I hope you all enjoyed this post, though I feel like it was pretty short and didn’t really do justice to my trip this past weekend. I literally can't put Normandy into words that truly capture the experience. Put it on your list of must visit places for sure. <o:p></o:p></div>
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Until next time!</div>
Chelseahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03103889430771817665noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4329101936853705191.post-22304381186845838772016-05-03T13:10:00.001+02:002016-05-04T09:43:14.476+02:00April in Paris and a Week in BarcelonaWas it really March 21st that I last posted a new update? Good grief. Sorry ya'll. It was definitely a busy month, and although the temperature has still been on the cooler side (still haven't left the house without a jacket) the clouds have finally disbursed and the skies have been consistently more blue. We still have gray and rainy days, it's true, but it's no longer a relentless and unyielding cover of clouds, rain, wind, and bitter cold. It's about freaking time, Paris. Me and my fellow expat friends have come to notice that Paris has about 7 months of cold weather and 5 months of nice weather. If you are ever planning a trip over here, I'd highly recommend only coming from May to September. Just a suggestion. But spring has finally sprung. The trees are green, the flowers have bloomed, and I couldn't be happier that this city is no longer brown and dead looking.<br />
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I have just over 2 months left of my overseas adventure, and I'm starting to get excited about setting foot on American soil again. I feel like some people may think I'm absolutely crazy to want to leave Paris. It's a wonderful city and I have made wonderful friends that will stick with me for the rest of my life, I'm sure. But there are a lot, and I mean A LOT of things I desperately miss. Living over here is not the same as visiting for a couple weeks. Coming for a couple weeks is going to be jam-packed with fun things to do. Living over here is a rewarding experience because I am truly getting a feel for a foreign city and it's an experience I wouldn't trade for anything. But this isn't my normal life, and after more than 7 months now abroad, I'm ready to feel like I'm back where I belong. Being 6 hours ahead of everyone I love at home is HARD. Not having a normal cell phone plan where I can easily text or pick up the phone to call someone whenever I want is hard. Having to coordinate times to try to Skype proved to be way more difficult than I anticipated, and there are friends of mine I have literally only communicated with through Facebook Messenger since I left in September, and despite our best efforts, we have just never been able to have a real conversation (I'm looking at you Lori). </div>
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I miss normal American things. I miss living alone. I miss not paying 4 euro for a tiny jar of peanut butter. Having access to real coffee creamer. Being able to drive and not being a slave to public transportation, which in Paris is constantly delayed due to strikes or train traffic or maintenance. I generally have to leave an hour early for whatever I'm doing, and I miss being able to jump in my car and get to where I want to be in 15 minutes. Walking has been good exercise, but I'm so over having to walk EVERYWHERE. I miss having a real job and making a salary. I miss being able to walk into a store and not struggle to communicate. I miss the amount of space stores, restaurants, parking lots, and buildings have in America. Living the city life has been fun for a while, but I'm tired of having to squeeze into a seat when I go out to eat because the restaurant has wasted not an inch of space when it comes to setting up tables. I kid you not, I have been to several places where the waiter has pulled the table away from the wall for me so I could get in because you are literally that close to the people to your right and left. Don't even bother trying to use the bathroom during your meal when this happens. I can't wait to have a giant southern sweet tea and Cheerwine. But mostly, I literally daydream about seeing my friends and family and how wonderful it will feel to hug them once again. My friends here are wonderful, but my history with them is 7 months or less. The people that connect me to my world are thousands of miles away, and although this experience will be a part of me forever, I can't wait to immerse myself in my own country once again. I have been to 9 countries now. I have seen 9 different cultures, languages, people groups, and ways of living and it has opened my eyes to so much in this world. But I can honestly say that I love my own land more now than ever before. I'm so proud to call myself an American. </div>
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But off this rabbit trail and back to what I've been up to. The first 3 weeks of April were pretty chill and I didn't really do a whole lot that is worth noting. After Easter, I basically had a few weeks where I was trying to save a bit of money for my trip to Barcelona. Me and my friend Amanda went to a costume shop to rent our Marie-Antoinette-era dresses for a masquerade ball that we are going to in June at the Palace of Versailles. I don't think it's possible for me to be more giddy or excited about this event. Seriously, my heart is doing cartwheels. I can't wait! That same week, I ended up having coffee with a new friend from my church here in Paris, who also happens to be a Liberty University alumni like me. That was really cool to run into someone from a place that has been such a significant part of my personal and professional life. Talking about the campus and the school was like a breath of fresh air. Not one other person over here has set foot in Lynchburg, so of course this was very exciting to me. She's also a flight attendant, and just came back from the States. She asked if there was anything she'd like me to bring back and I asked for powdered coffee creamer. I literally can't wait to get it from her this week. MmmmMMMM. </div>
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The end of that week was The Color Run, which was so. much. fun. For those who don't know, this is a 5K race where throughout the course and at the dance party at the end, there are bottles and packets of colored powder thrown at you. Best to keep your eyes and mouth closed when this happens, but looking down and seeing yourself covered in color was so fun. Seriously, it blew all my expectations out of the water and although it started as a very cold day and I had a bit of a mishap in the metro where I tripped up an escalator and ended up with about 6 bruises and a scraped ankle, it turned out to be some of the most fun I've had in a long time. I'm so happy my friend Isabelle was able to do it with me. I'm not a runner, but people were walking, taking pictures, stopping for a beer along the way (really), and then the entire race ended with a massive dance party on the bridge in front of the Eiffel Tower. There were about 30,000 racers who attended. It only rained during the last 10 minutes we were there, and by this point, we were covered from head to toe in pinks, greens, blues, and yellows, and happy as can be. We were quite a site on the metro ride home. </div>
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The week following The Color Run was my last full week with Gaspard while he was on school holidays. I mentioned in a previous post that the kids here have 6 weeks of school and 2 weeks of vacation throughout the year. This was the last school holiday before the end of the year for them during the first week of July. This means the rest of my time here will be pretty open during most days. The Saturday before I left for Barcelona, my friend Isabelle had a few of her friends go to Disneyland Paris. We were really excited about this, except when we get there it was SO COLD and gray that day. Seriously, it was such a bummer since we had been having pretty consistently nice weather. Oh well, we still had fun. Once again, we ended up not staying for the fireworks. I had to be up super early to catch my Megabus to Spain and she had something to do the next day too. </div>
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Barcelona was a blur and so much happened that I'm not sure I have the patience to really recount every single thing, so I'll give the highlights then post a few pictures from the week. I got up early last Sunday and made my way to the south east corner of Paris to the Bercy area. This is where the Megabus would be waiting. These buses are cheap ways to travel around Europe. One direction was around 40 euro and the way back was 28 euro. The downside was that on this particular route, the Megabus company had rolled out their new fleet of buses, which for some reason were having a problem with their WiFi and couldn't figure out why. So for about 14 hours there and back, the WiFi worked for maybe a total of 2 hours. That sucked pretty bad. On the way down, the toilet was also broken, so thank goodness I hadn't had much to drink the night before, so the few stops we made were sufficient. So overall, my bus experience wasn't the greatest; however, I was surprised how quick the trips seemed to feel for me. I slept a lot (not comfortably), and the seats felt pretty tight during the points where I had someone next to me, but overall, I'd probably travel that way again for a shorter trip. Although, I did find it a bit disconcerting that our passports weren't checked at the border. That was a bit strange to me given everything that's been going on. The landscape on the way to Spain was beautiful. I literally gasped when we passed through the Pyrenees Mountains, though it was getting dark at this point so I wish I had seen them more clearly. But I haven't seen mountains that tall since I was in Peru in 2009. Beautiful. </div>
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Things went a bit downhill the minute I crossed into Spain. My French cell service immediately cut off, and without WiFi my phone was pretty much useless. Luckily, I had downloaded an offline map of Barcelona through Google Maps, and before I came, I carefully chose my Airbnb location and made sure I did "street view" from the bus station to my Airbnb so I knew exactly where I was going as soon as we arrived. It was a 5 minute walk straight out of the station. I'm glad I chose this and didn't have to call a cab at 5:30 AM for my return bus to Paris. My Airbnb host knew what time I was arriving since I had communicated with him on WhatsApp the day before. I was renting a room in this guy's apartment (I know, I know...I specifically didn't tell people I was doing this before I went because I didn't want to get the 3rd degree). But he had good reviews, and although the room was VERY tiny, it was about 20 euro a night to stay there and I had my own bathroom. The proximity to the bus station was the deciding factor. Anyway, I show up literally at the exact time I estimated I'd be there, and I buzz his name at the door. Nothing. Long story short, after 25 minutes of me buzzing, borderline panicking, tearing up, and staring at my useless phone, he finally shows up. Someone had let me in the lobby about 5 minutes after I got there, so at least I wasn't standing on the street. But I was not happy. He was super apologetic and asked if I had been waiting a while. He had been out to dinner and lost track of time or something. He kept apologizing for the next 20 minutes as he showed me around his place and got me settled in. By this point, I had started to question my decision to come. I was feeling a little uneasy, because this was literally the first time I have ever traveled to a foreign country completely solo. I'm thankful for the person from home I was texting with at the time (after I got connected to the WiFi at the apartment) because I felt a bit more at ease and not completely isolated, as weird as that sounds. By this point, it was about midnight and all I wanted to do was sleep. The accommodations were nothing special, but they were at least clean and my host was hospitable, so I made the best of it. </div>
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After passing out, I woke up around 9:30 AM and honestly didn't have a plan for exactly what I wanted to do. I mean I knew places I wanted to check out, and I had a few tickets I had bought in advance for a few major sites to see, but in the meantime...being in a new city is really intimidating. I'm actually very good with directions, and having my offline maps made me feel comfortable that I wouldn't get lost, but still having to figure out what to see and try to make the most of a week in a new city can be a bit scary. Still laying in bed, I looked up free walking tours in Barcelona and decided that I'd get ready quick and do the tour of the Gothic Quarter that started at 11 AM. I hoped I would at least learn something and prayed I'd meet some cool people to maybe pal around with the rest of the day. I left the apartment and made my way toward Plaça de Catalunya, a large central square that was bustling with tourists (and hundreds of pigeons). It was an easy walk to get here from my place and took about 20-25 min to get there. Once I arrived, I was a little early, so I was sitting around and realized Barcelona offered free city-wide WiFi. It doesn't work that well and usually only picks up in the bigger, more popular areas, but it was handy when it did work. Most places in the city offered free WiFi though, so whether I was eating dinner or getting a cup of coffee, I was able to connect pretty easily unless I was out walking.<br />
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Finally, I see the group I was meeting, literally called Free Walking Tours Barcelona. After checking in, they split us up depending on which tour we wanted. Our guide was really great, and took us down the famous street La Rambla. It was packed with tourists, and we were told not to buy anything on this street because the markup was so high for being such a popular tourist attraction. However, it was nice having someone show us around parts of the city and explain a lot about the history of Catalonia. I had no idea that there was such tension between Catalonia, which is a large region of the country, and the rest of Spain. After a civil war and a lot of back and forth over the years, it's very clear that the people of this region want their independence from Spain. Catalan is a language that is widely spoken in this area, even though Spanish is also an official language. There is even a flag of Catalonia which is an unofficial flag that many private citizens will fly from their homes to show their desire for independence. This flag isn't allowed on any official buildings. Being a lover of history, it was really interesting to learn about, and to be honest, I didn't know much about Spanish history before I arrived. </div>
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The best part of the tour though was meeting two guys I ended up hanging out with for the next 3 days. Both were solo travelers, one from Italy (Davide) the other from Germany (Stefan), but they met because they were staying at the same Airbnb. Such nice guys and I had a blast with them both. After the tour, a big group of us went to lunch, then about 7 of us went down to La Barceloneta, which is the beach and harbor area. We spent a few hours walking around, then Davide had a dinner with friends, so Stefan and I wandered around the Gothic Quarter looking for a place to have dinner. We ended up at this cool little place called Colom (think Christopher Columbus) which looked like an old ship on the inside. We decided to try some authentic Spanish food and opted for some tapas and seafood paella. Stefan wasn't a fan of the paella, but I actually really enjoyed it. It's basically a rice dish seasoned with curry and with seafood added to it. I wish I had taken a picture. I meant to, but got distracted when the paella came out with it's 4 whole giant shrimp staring up at us. It was a fun experience, and Davide ended up meeting us for drinks later that night. </div>
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The next day, I had tickets to see La Sagrada Familia, which is a church (still under construction and will be for about 20 more years they said) which was designed by the famous architect Antoni Gaudi. Gaudi was responsible for a lot of the famous architecture in Barcelona. I meant to take another free walking tour that discussed his work, but I missed it. Next time. The church was amazing. I'll let the pictures do the talking, but seriously, it was incredible. My ticket included a trip up the towers, which had fantastic views of the city.<br />
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After I left, I decided to give the metro a try. There is a T10 ticket for the metro that was about 10 euro for 10 trips. This was perfect for my week and I ended up using it all without needing to buy another ticket. From La Sagrada Familia, I decided on a whim to visit Plaza de España, which was a famous plaza I had seen a lot of pictures of during my research for my trip. I saw this beautiful building up on the hill, so I made my way toward it. Turns out, it was the Museu Nacional d'Art de Catalunya, and it had beautiful views of the city. I went up there and hung around for a bit and used their WiFi. But I didn't feel like being in a museum on a beautiful day, so I made my way back toward Plaça de Catalunya to meet up with Davide for another free walking tour. This particular tour went through the El Raval, which is a neighborhood previously known for being shady, but over recent years has developed into a pretty diverse and quaint area. During this tour, our guide told us all about the street art in this part of town. It was something I didn't think I would enjoy as much as I did, but our guide went even deeper into the political strains between Spain and Catalonia, and the street art was really cool.<br />
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After the tour, Davide and I wandered back down and explored more of the harbor area, which was really beautiful. We finally found some WiFi and had Stefan come meet us, who had been off on a hop on, hop off bus tour all day. That night we found a cute and very delicious little tapas place called Sensi Tapas in the Gothic Quarter. After waiting a while for our table, the waitress came and gave us some free tapas because the people at the table she was planning to give us were taking their sweet time leaving. Hey...free food? No complaints here. Finally we get a seat, and we ate our way through about 6 different tapas dishes. I was so full, that I only had room to sample most of it, but it was soooo good. And seriously couldn't have asked for better company.<br />
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Wednesday was Davide's last day, so I had the guys meet me at Mercat de Sant Josep de la Boqueria, or more commonly called La Boqueria market, which I had visited on Tuesday. The food was fresh and authentic and a really inexpensive way to fill up on a variety of foods. After the market, Stefan and I said goodbye to Davide and then wondered around the Gothic Quarter back down to Barceloneta. Stefan was leaving Thursday, so he was determined to go to the beach for a bit, even though this particular day was gray and chilly. We ended up going back to our places for a while to change and shower, then ended up meeting later for dinner. We found a really cool place in El Raval called Bar Lobo. Great food and we had a lot of fun. By this time, it had begun to rain a bit, and the metros in Barcleona generally stop running around midnight and it was getting close. Stefan walked me to the station, but due to an organized strike (of course), the metro was taking forever and I ended up giving up and just walking back to my place. Walking 25 min or so in the rain at midnight in a strange city wasn't exactly something I was thrilled about. But luckily, the main street to my place is a really wide popular street, and it was a pretty peaceful night, so I made it back no problem.<br />
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Thursday, I had to get a bit creative since my Barcelona buds were now gone (sad). I'll admit, I was kind of boring and ended up not going out to any restaurants alone on my last two nights because I didn't want to walk back in the dark by myself, not to mention I was really lacking a few good nights' sleep. So Thursday, I mostly just meandered through the streets I had grown comfortable with, and bought some authentic handmade espadrilles from a famous shop I read about before I came. Friday, I ventured out to Montjuïc Castle, which is set up high on a hill right next to the coast of the Mediterranean Sea. The views up here were gorgeous and it was a sunny day so I got some amazing pictures. I couldn't stop staring at the view. I took the cable car up, which also offered some great views of the city. Once I got back from the castle, it was still pretty early, but I grabbed some dinner and took it home to start packing since my Megabus back to Paris left at 6:30 AM. But after such a fun-filled week full of walking everywhere, I was pretty tired, I have to admit.<br />
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All in all, Barcelona is a beautiful and interesting city everyone should visit. I just uploaded about 200 pictures of my trip to FB, so be sure to check it out! I wish it had been hot enough to hang out on the beach, but alas it was not. But I did learn a lot about the city and it's history and met some awesome people, so my first trip traveling completely solo was a big success. Seriously, I encourage everyone to take at least one solo trip. To be able to meet random people from all over the world, and just do what you want when you want is such a liberating experience, and it once again has built my confidence and changed me in ways I'm sure I don't even see yet. Free walking tours are the best thing ever when traveling to a new city alone. In fact, I looked up some free tours in Paris that I plan to do this month so I can learn more about areas I haven't yet ventured to in the city. It's been a great month, and so far May has seen mostly sunny days, so I think there are some great Parisian times ahead for me.<br />
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(Supposedly, if you drink from this fountain, you are destined to fall in love with Barcelona and return one day.)</div>
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I will admit though, my heart is already ahead of me in North Carolina and I am so excited to get back and start my new life there. Missing my family and friends, and being a bit tight on money, actually caused me to cancel my overnight trip to Iceland. The logistics were just becoming too much trouble. I'll still be flying back via Icelandair because of their inexpensive flights and 2 free checked bags, but I want to come back as soon as I can. So no, I won't get to see the Blue Lagoon in Iceland just yet, but I guess I'll just have to plan some trips as soon as I get a job and can start saving some money again. I have just over 2 months left. That's crazy. This year has flown by, even though parts of it felt so slow. I'm excited for what's ahead, and I'm really anxious to see how this experience will impact my life in the long run. I'll make sure it's not another month and a half before I post another update. Thanks for reading!</div>
Chelseahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03103889430771817665noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4329101936853705191.post-57461254131523209622016-03-21T13:40:00.000+01:002016-03-21T21:51:09.064+01:00the last 3 weeks of winter<div class="MsoNormal">
SPRING IS HERE!!! IT’S FINALLY HERE!! I've been waiting months for March 20th to arrive. It has been such a
COLD experience so far here in Paris. It’s unfortunate the school year takes
place during the coldest months. If I could have chosen any 9 months to live in
Paris, it would have started around March and finished with a spectacular
Christmas. Christmas in Paris is for sure worth seeing, but after they pack up
all the decorations and festivities, you can tell the residents are just
playing the waiting game until spring emerges. But <i>printemps</i> has finally made its debut. I had a countdown on my phone
that I started 72 days before spring, and I can’t believe all of that time has
now elapsed and here we are. It’s still cold. It’s been hovering around high
40s, low 50s most days, but the sun is starting to shine more, so the days are
easier to get through. And the forecast for this week has several sunny days
and mid-50s. So while all my friends in the USA are enjoying their 70+ degree
weather (and yes, I have in fact been insanely jealous of you all), we are
slowly but surely catching up across the pond. This coming Saturday, March 26<sup>th</sup>
will mark 6 months since I moved to Paris. Half a year already! That’s crazy.
It has felt slow and fast at the same time. And It’s been 3 weeks since my last
post, and I have so much to write about, so prepare for a long update! <o:p></o:p></div>
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During the first week of March, G turned 9 years old. I’ve
been really happy with how comfortable he and I are with each other now. We can
communicate a little more in French, and sometimes I will ask him “<i>comment dit on </i><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">____</span><i> en anglais</i>?” (“how
do you say <i><span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;">____</span> </i>in English?”) to quiz him on words or teach him new ones. Since
they teach English in the schools here, he actually knows his colors, numbers,
and a few other things already. He will really start to take English classes in
school when he’s a little older, but he has had to learn a few things here and
there at his age. Some evenings, he’ll come in my room just to sit and play
with his iPad or Rubik’s cube, which he usually hands to me to solve for him. I
can honestly say I’m gonna miss that kid when I leave. He will have an au pair
for 1 more year, then he’ll be old enough to do without one. To be honest, I
like the family and G a lot, and I can see myself keeping in touch with them
after this experience, but I’m kind of over being an au pair in general. It has
nothing to do with G or my host family, and everything to do with just being
ready to get back to work and have my own place. <o:p></o:p></div>
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But as it gets warmer and I’ve been doing more and more fun
things, time is starting to slip through my fingers like sand, and I feel like
I’m going to blink and find myself on a plane back to America in the middle of
summer. I have made so many wonderful friends here, and the closer I get to
being back in the States, the more I realize these friendships will just look
so different when I’m gone, and that’s really sad. It’s a strange thing to do
when first living overseas to try so hard to put down roots and make a home
away from home, knowing that your days are numbered and they will be uprooted
again in the end. Then when I get back, I’ll be starting all over again in NC. But
I can say that Paris does feel a bit like home now. When you’ve become used to
the commute times, the language barrier, and develop favorite go-to places, you
know you’ve started to acclimate to living the life of a local. When I inevitably
come back to visit one day, it’s not going to feel like a foreign city. It’s going
to feel like coming home. That’s really an awesome feeling. <o:p></o:p></div>
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But back to what I’ve been up to so far this month. On March
9<sup>th</sup>, I had a mandatory appointment at the OFII, <i>Office Français de l'Immigration et de l'Intégration</i> or French
Office for Immigration and Integration. As part of my visa requirements, after
living in France for at least 90 days, I am required to visit the OFII for a
medical exam. I knew that this was
coming since I arrived, and I was not looking forward to it. Just more
paperwork and a mandatory visit, which of course had to be on a Wednesday, my
busiest day with G since the kids get out of school at 11:30 on this day each
week. My appointment was at 8:30 AM, in a town south of Paris, so I had to leave
about an hour prior to my designated time and my host mom took G to school that
day. Thankfully, I made it back in time to pick him up, especially given the
fact there were train strikes happening later that morning. They like to strike
here in Paris. A lot. It was also one of those horrendous rainy and windy days
where using an umbrella is pretty useless because I got soaked anyway. Cold,
rain, and wind…nature’s winter trifecta out to make my life miserable. But I
digress…<o:p></o:p></div>
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Before my visit, I received a letter in the mail telling me
what I needed to bring to my appointment. My passport, obviously, a document
proving that I’m living with my host family (I took my banking paperwork), and
some kind of stamp paying a tax of sorts of 58 euro. At first, when asking my host
mom where to get this stamp, she told me they sold them at Tabac (tobacco)
stores, but not all of them sell this stamp. That part was so strange to me.
Going to a Tabac store to ask for a <i>timbre</i>
(stamp) for my immigration appointment. I was not looking forward to running
around my town of Houilles to all the Tabac stores trying to communicate what I
needed, and not knowing if they would sell it there. But after reading through
my paperwork again, the OFII now has a way to purchase the stamp and pay the
tax online through their office. Yes! I was so happy when I saw that. Easy. <o:p></o:p></div>
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I arrive for my medical exam and am ushered into a waiting
room. About 10 minutes later, one of the staff returns and calls about 6 of us
into the next room. This room has a small waiting room, and numbered rooms. One
by one, the lady calls us forward to check us in and is asking us questions…in
French…thankfully, she spoke enough English to say a word here and there and I
just answered yes or no. She didn’t seem too excited about my lack of French,
however, all of the other staff I found friendly and helpful, and much more
inclined to speak English if I couldn’t understand them. After being checked in,
I was told to go to room #1 Analysis, aka pee in a cup. After that, they took
my height and weight, and I was back out waiting for my turn in the next room. After
waiting what seemed like a while, Not Happy Lady took me to room #2 for an eye
exam. She asked me in French if I wore <i>lunettes</i>
(glasses) or contacts, then I had to read from the chart on the wall across the
room. Thankfully, knowing a word here or there gave me enough context to
understand what she was asking, and she seemed more satisfied with my language
skills since I could at least give letters and numbers in French.<o:p></o:p></div>
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After this, I was taken to room #3, which was less a room
and more of a tall cubicle in the main room, with a door inside that led to an
x-ray room. At this point, she opens the cubical door and points to a photo on
the wall which explained what to do next…strip from the waste up. Great. So
after I do this, I awkwardly wait inside the cube until I hear the girl in the
cube next to me return from the room beyond. I knock and peek through to the
next room, and there’s an older male doctor waiting for me. I make my way into
the room with my arms across my chest, and he tells me I need to pull my
ponytail up higher so it’s not falling down my back. Thanks for letting me
know. He’s standing there waiting, so I turn around so I can rip out my ponytail
and put my hair high on my head. “Awkward…this is so awkward…” is all I’m
thinking at this point. He calls me over to an x-ray machine, tells me how to
stand and goes back to take the x-ray. I know he’s a doctor, and he was very
nice and professional, and to him I was just one more of probably a hundred
people a day he sees walk through those doors, but I was not a fan of this
particular part of the visit. He dismissed me and I went back into the cubical
and got dressed. I was hoping that was the last awkward thing I could expect. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
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<div class="MsoNormal">
Hah…I wish. The next part was when a doctor came and took my
file and called me into another one of these cubicles with a door into the next
room inside of it. As I walk in, he tells me to strip from the waste up down to
my bra then come into his office. Ugh. I do this, and walk in. There is a table
on the far wall you’d find in any ordinary doctor’s office and I expected to be
told to sit on it, but no. He calls me over to a chair at his desk, and I’m
sitting there practically knocking knees with him, cold, in my bra and jeans.
He has my x-ray up on his screen and is looking over my file. In what I’m assuming
was an attempt to make me feel more comfortable, he starts asking me about the
origin of my name. I said it was English, and like everyone else here, he made
a joke about the English soccer team. Then he asks what I’m studying, and I told
him I finished school a long time ago. He asked what my degrees were in and
poked fun when I told him I was studying French here, but couldn’t speak it. I
tried to explain it was a requirement of my visa that I take French classes,
but at this point, I’m trying to limit the conversation so I can get this over
with. So why did I have to strip this time? So he could take my blood pressure
and listen to my heart through my back. Really? In America, I don’t recall
either of these ever requiring me to take off clothes. After he did this, he
told me I could get dressed then come back in. After a few more minutes, he
stamped my paperwork and told me to take it to the receptionist. Gladly. Bye
Felicia.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
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<div class="MsoNormal">
I do as he says, then am directed to the second floor to
another waiting room. This is where I have to present my stamped medical
report, passport, stamp from the tax, and proof of address. It took about 5-10
minutes for each person, but thankfully I was the 3<sup>rd</sup> one to arrive.
The lady was actually very nice and asked which language I spoke. She already had
my file full of documents I hadn’t seen since I was compiling my paperwork last
summer. I had everything they needed from me ready to go, and it only took
about 5 minutes. She told me to hang on to the medical report I had stamped
because if I wanted to renew my visa in September when it expired, I had to
have this and it could not be replaced. Not a problem, I won’t be here or be
renewing my visa. Finally, I got the final stamp I needed in my passport, and the
entire reason for the shenanigans I had just gone through downstairs, my
long-stay/temporary resident visa. And then I got the heck outta here. But in
case you were curious, here is what a French visa and my long-stay visa look
like, with my important info and bad photo blacked out, of course. ;)<o:p></o:p></div>
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<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
French Student Visa</div>
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Long-stay Visa I received the day of my OFII Medical Exam</div>
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The rest of the month went uphill from there. The Saturday
after my OFII visit, I got to spend the day with my French friend Isabelle, who
took me to the beautiful Forêt de Montmorency to go hiking. It was a bit warmer
than it had been at that point, and we enjoyed being outside the city for some
fresh air. We finished our hike with a picnic by the beautiful lake in the
forest, then went back to her place for tea and Netflix, then headed to Bercy
Village later that night to see a movie. Lately, my weekends have included a
movie with her because of this special ticket she pays a monthly fee for that
gets two people into an unlimited amount of movies each month. She gets the
tickets, I get the snacks. Here at movie theaters, you have a choice between
sweet or salty popcorn. I explained to her that movie popcorn in the States is
always salty and always hot. Here, it’s generally popped beforehand, so you don’t
get that fresh popcorn and melted butter taste, and most people here will choose
sweet popcorn. What a shame. But I convinced her to try the famous combo of
salty popcorn and MnM’s, and now she thinks I’m a genius. That’s now our go-to
snack when we see a movie. I’ve really enjoyed getting to know her and so thankful
for her friendship. As it gets warmer, we have lots of outtings planned and
places she wants to show me. It’s awesome having a French friend that knows the
best places outside of the city. I also signed up for the Color Run Paris next
month, and she’ll be doing it with me. I’m so excited for it! It’ll be a really
fun time.<o:p></o:p><br />
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The last 4 days have been the most fun I’ve had in quite
some time. Thursday was GORGEOUS. Clear blue skies, not a single cloud, and the
temperature reached 60 degrees by the afternoon. Me and my American friend
Amanda had planned to meet for a day in the city and visit Sacré-Cœur, the
cathedral in the Montmarte district of Paris. We couldn’t have asked for a
prettier day for it. The warmer it got, the more excited we got. She and I have
both been so over the winter season. It hasn’t helped our homesickness for
America. Her older two kids had school, so it was just us and her 2 year old
cutie Penelope. We met up for coffee, then headed to Montmarte. Our first stop
was to the <i>Le Mur des Je T'aime, </i>The Wall of I Love You, just outside of the metro Abbesses. The wall was
created in 2000 and has the words “I love you” written in 250 languages. The
splashes of red paint symbolize parts of a broken heart. There were a lot of people
around, so it was clear it was a popular spot, but it was still really
beautiful. One day I'll get a picture without the horrendous shadows ruining the shot. But can you spot "I love you" in English??<br />
<br /><o:p></o:p></div>
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After this, we started the uphill trek toward the cathedral. Getting to the cathedral is tiring enough. If you want to go to the top, it’s 300 steps. We definitely got our workout in that day. We stopped for a few minutes at the main square near Sacré-Cœur, where artists come and show off, sell, and create artwork right there for anyone to watch. It is a pretty touristy location, but still felt very Parisian to be watching all these artists showcase their work. We continued on to the front of the cathedral then went inside to see the interior. The mosaics inside were incredible. The main one featured Christ and was basically the size of the main dome inside. We had to be quiet because there was a mass happening at the same time, and you weren’t supposed to take pictures but everyone was. Oh well. After walking around, we came back outside, then went around to the side of the building to head to the top of the dome. It was only 6 euro, but man was it an exhausting climb. Tight, spiral staircases, and 300 steps. Poor Amanda had Pen on her back the whole way up, so I took her on the way down. The views were worth every step. Perfect day, though a little hazy, but man…Paris is beautiful. After leaving Sacré-Cœur, we found a cute little café called Le Carroussel. It was so nice by this point, we took off our coats and sat outside in the sun. It was wonderful! There was even a guy playing the accordion outside, so we sat there eating pizza and enjoying the ambience, chatting about how this was going to be a regular occurrence as the weather got nicer. So excited.<br />
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The next day, I started my private French lessons. I was
super nervous about this. I’m not really sure why, I’ve just been so hesitant
and shy about it. But when I arrived, I saw my old teacher and chatted with her
for a few minutes. I missed her. She really was a fantastic instructor, and if
she had taught a class that would have fit better with my schedule, I would
have stuck with her. She was really kind and gave me a pep talk to not be so
hard on myself and that it was just me and the instructor and I would be ok.
Next week, I hope to get there a bit early and see some of my old classmates.
Once I was taken to the private classroom, the instructor walked in and I
recognized her. She had been our tour guide to the museum we visited the
morning of the Paris attacks, and she and I had chatted on the metro after
class that day. She wants to move to California really bad to be a French
teacher, and hopes one day it’ll happen. But it was great to see a familiar
face. She told me about her own experiences learning English and asked me how I
would like our lessons to go. I told her I needed to be forced to speak the
language, because my reading and writing is better than my oral comprehension
and ability to respond. She said that was exactly what happened to her when she
was learning English too. Overall, I felt way more comfortable, and it was a
much better environment then a full classroom. She said if you need to take a
few minutes to respond, I could do that in private lessons, whereas a classroom
can be more challenging since everyone has to participate. But I will have
these lessons with her every Friday for a total of 8 weeks. Hopefully, that
will help me a lot.</div>
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By far the most awesome thing I’ve done this month is the
cooking class at Le Cordon Bleu I signed up for this past Saturday. I learned how
to make French macarons and everything from the chefs to the class to the
macarons themselves were fantastic. It was a little pricey at 110 euro, but
worth every penny. I got to learn from pastry chef Xaviar Cotte, who began
teaching at LCB 14 years ago after a stellar career. He has a translator for
the class, an American from Texas actually, but was so funny and clearly loves
what he does. French cook Julia Child learned her cooking skills from this very
building. So amazing. They are actually opening their new facility in June and
will be moving locations. I guess I’ll have to do another class when I come
back to visit one day and see the new place. In the end, my macarons turned out
really good, just not perfectly round since my piping skills leave something to
be desired. But hey, I’ll practice and get better. We did everything by hand,
so it was pretty labor intensive, but I feel like I earned the end result. They
had certificates of completion ready for us at the end, and we got to keep an
official apron, hat, tea towel, and isothermic bag. If you ever come to Paris,
this is truly an experience worth paying for. Such a blast. <o:p></o:p><br />
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Confession. I only took this next picture because of the tall, handsome chef. <br />
We kept catching each other's eye, not gonna lie. ;)</div>
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Yesterday, I finally
got to see my friend Alicia after about a month and a half. It had been a while
since we hung out because we are equally intolerant of the cold weather we’ve
had. She’s from Columbia, so her intolerance might be higher than mine, but in
any case, neither of us have been thrilled about the lack of color on the trees
and the gray and cold skies. When it gets warmer, we’ll both be out with our
cameras photographing every corner of the city. Cannot wait. It was supposed to
be pretty yesterday, but it turned out to be 40s and gray, so we opted for an
indoor activity instead. We went to the <i>Musée
d'Art Moderne de la Ville de Paris, </i>the Modern Art Museum of Paris. The
first painting we saw was really beautiful. It had a room all to itself, and if
you started from the right side of the room, it told the story of how electricity
came to be over time, specifically in France. I didn’t realize this until I started
from the left and saw the beginning, then it dawned on me. Oh well. The rest of
the museum was really not my taste. I’m clearly not an art connoisseur, because
about a half a dozen times I found myself saying “I could make that.” And
really….I could. A wall of huge canvas paintings of vertical stripes in various
colors? Umm…yeah. Can’t say I really can appreciate most of what I saw, particularly
the giant spider sculpture that horrified me. But oh well. At least I tried it,
right?</div>
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<o:p></o:p></div>
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<div style="text-align: center;">
I named him Aragog. If you don't get that, I'm sorry for you.</div>
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Well that’s been a lot of experiences to pack into one blog
post. Thanks for reading though! I have a feeling that the arrival of spring is
going to spark more adventures and more to write about in each post. I truly
believe my best days of this journey are ahead of me, and I can’t wait!<o:p></o:p></div>
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À bientôt!<o:p></o:p></div>
Chelseahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03103889430771817665noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4329101936853705191.post-73389321387476672562016-02-29T12:10:00.000+01:002016-03-01T19:25:08.257+01:00go away févrierHappy Leap Day everyone! I'm currently staring out the window at the 3rd really sunny day we've had all month. G has his two weeks of school holiday right now, and since the family went skiing all last week, I had a glorious week to myself. This week, I have G all day erryday. Tomorrow we'll probably head to the cinema or perhaps Jardin d'Acclimatation, weather permitting.<br />
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Overall, this month has been so boring and I'm ready for it to be over. I can name the things I've done on one hand. Is that my fault? Yeah, probably. But the weather has been so cold, gray, rainy, and windy, that finding the motivation to go somewhere and have to walk in that mess has been hard. I'll just stay home and watch Netflix, thanks. All of that has contributed to my homesickness this month. I can't stand feeling like a caged animal, but that has little to do with my location, and more to do with the cold. I need to be outside. I need to feel heat and sun on my skin. I need nature, and I need it to be green and beautiful. So it's just counting down to warmer days.<br />
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I was talking to a friend of mine about how much it has sucked arriving in Paris as the colder months were starting. By the time I leave, I will have had approximately 6 months of cold weather and about 4 of nice weather. It's been a challenge mentally to stay positive and not long to return to America. But then again, America isn't much warmer, so unless someone is willing to pay for me to spend a week in the Bahamas, it's just a matter of waiting for spring. People have asked me what I have enjoyed most about my time here. To be honest, I feel like my best days are ahead of me. When the weather is nicer and I can actually spend my days enjoying the parts of Paris that everyone dreams about...the flowers, the gardens, the parks, walks and picnics along the Seine...those are the days that I long to live through. When I can do my day trips that I have planned, and perhaps visit the South of France or some other part of the country or neighboring country during my next break in April, I feel like those will be my best days. I can't wait to throw on a dress and shoes other than my boots and walk around the city taking pictures. I can't wait for the last day I take off my parka and scarf, and not have to wear leggings under my jeans to keep from freezing to death. Those days are coming, and I'm ready.<br />
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Sidebar: Here is a mini French lesson for you all in case you haven't figured it out from the blog title. February is <i>février</i> in French. All their months are used with lower case letters, and this month is pronounced like "fave-ree-ay." A particularly difficult month for me to say due to the French "r" smack dab in the middle. Still haven't quite mastered it. Hearing me pronounce the "r" here is about as funny as hearing the French try to pronounce the English "r" or "th" sounds. Here, the "th" takes on a "t" sound. For example, "tea" in French is <i>thé </i>and sounds like "tay." And whenever G tries to say something like "sorry" in English, it sounds like "sowwy." My language learning has taken a bit of a hiatus. Sometimes it's just really hard to get motivated when I can get by with the little vocabulary I already have. But my private lessons start in a few weeks, so at least that will be the pressure I need to throw myself into it again.<br />
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Since my last post, I did have a really fun visit from an old friend here in Paris. Growing up, I went to the same private school from K to 12th grade. Only about 5 of us remained from our original Kindergarten class, and one of those 5 was Jenny K (we had a few other Jennys over the years, so yes, the "K" is an important distinction). Jenny K was always the brains of our class and all of us knew it. If we ever were aiming for academic success, it was always for 2nd place in the class because she was just an unstoppable force that couldn't be beat. After we graduated, we parted ways and never saw each other again, even though she went to another local college in Lynchburg where I also went to school and was about a 15 minute drive away for 4 years.<br />
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Thanks to the wonder of Facebook, eventually we reconnected and as it turns out, she has been doing a fellowship in Rome and doing research for her PhD in Archaeology. Pretty sweet place to work on an archaeology degree. I asked her what she got her Master's in, and she very humbly said she didn't have one. I asked if it was because she was published (she is). If you are published and can get accepted into a PhD program, you can skip the Master's level. Told ya. She's wicked smart. Anyway, she planned a visit to Paris, and messaged me a few weeks back seeing if we could meet up. She was only here for a few days, but it was so cool to see someone who I spent all those years with growing up. We chatted about how strange it is to know someone for basically your entire childhood, but live your entire adult life without seeing them around. I took her around Paris to some of my favorite spots, and we had fun trying to collectively name all the people in our graduating class. There were only 20, but it took both of us to remember them all (don't worry, we did). I feel like this would be a great place to put some old yearbook photo of our class, but I don't have any with me. So instead, here is our selfie from Shakespeare and Company where we enjoyed some coffee and the view of Notre Dame.<br />
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Later during her visit, we had a beautiful (albeit cold) sunny day, so I had her meet me and my friend Amanda near Jardin du Luxembourg. Amanda hadn't set foot in the garden yet, so it was fun showing her the Medici Fountain (one of my fave spots) and Jenny met up with us later at a really fantastic crêperie. While we were waiting for Jenny to finish up at a museum, Amanda and I visited the beautiful Panthéon building. Once a cathedral, it is now the final resting place of many of France's most famous individuals, including Rousseau, Voltaire, Alexandre Dumas, Victor Hugo, and Marie Curie. The building was so beautiful both inside and out, and had a great view of the garden and the Eiffel Tower from the front steps.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAXL10pXmGm5rNzYpqGiugpZ8pZhsyBXT8JneaJwsWfPujeASWZlXaeXsrXjfL46IXChbZRfEljBIT7wDolEVZcNykwa7328e3iohxR-7_WZwGfcs11clk_I4AWhK_-DBUN1a8CMfq4-K5/s1600/20160216_115555.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAXL10pXmGm5rNzYpqGiugpZ8pZhsyBXT8JneaJwsWfPujeASWZlXaeXsrXjfL46IXChbZRfEljBIT7wDolEVZcNykwa7328e3iohxR-7_WZwGfcs11clk_I4AWhK_-DBUN1a8CMfq4-K5/s640/20160216_115555.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLd7tO_vTBP2PN6jPSeOx0uHvdg8BewNkouRyf-86WBfPErDgyM23GdFbZZfkVtlyT1fyKjTKnVZvqCrqC978oqk9TRne0nb9UpruMzgTeuA7Wg8WRvQN9FUHgMLwLcv4ds2lYOWPQeBtO/s1600/20160216_115731.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLd7tO_vTBP2PN6jPSeOx0uHvdg8BewNkouRyf-86WBfPErDgyM23GdFbZZfkVtlyT1fyKjTKnVZvqCrqC978oqk9TRne0nb9UpruMzgTeuA7Wg8WRvQN9FUHgMLwLcv4ds2lYOWPQeBtO/s640/20160216_115731.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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The Foucault Pendulum. This pendulum was amazing. It looks like it rotates 11° every hour, but in reality it is the earth rotating around it. It sways in the same place the entire time.</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZt2JAcRS8mCi2NtBS2zYHEFT9uK96FsoHbrA9UKQdL8PNJG6uS3nQ3FmCIbCiHTag4KuEc0X42TutejL8TwjVy1zpT08nExyWAAEnClWEsDH6nSV6cnCr55fce4TiR3nnszbbNgIsAEj3/s1600/20160216_120510.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZt2JAcRS8mCi2NtBS2zYHEFT9uK96FsoHbrA9UKQdL8PNJG6uS3nQ3FmCIbCiHTag4KuEc0X42TutejL8TwjVy1zpT08nExyWAAEnClWEsDH6nSV6cnCr55fce4TiR3nnszbbNgIsAEj3/s640/20160216_120510.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>
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Tomb of Rousseau</div>
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Tomb of Voltaire</div>
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Last week I was on vacation, and since the weather wasn't the greatest, I spent most of the week relaxing, sleeping in, and catching up on my shows. On Thursday, the first part of the day was sunny so I went out to the Palace of Versailles. I had already been to the gardens and the Trianons, but hadn't been inside the main building yet. I got there about an hour after it opened, and only had to stand in line for about 10 minutes or so. It wasn't super crowded yet, so it was great to be able to take my time and take lots of pictures. Here are a few, but I just posted the full album on Facebook.<br />
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The Marble Courtyard</div>
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Royal Chapel</div>
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Marie Antoinette and her oldest two children, Marie Thérèse and Louis XVII.</div>
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Hall of Mirrors</div>
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The King's Bedchamber</div>
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Incredible ceiling in the Gallery of Battles</div>
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I may not have done much this month, but I did really enjoy the things I was able to get out and do. Tomorrow is March 1st and I couldn't be more thrilled since it's the month when winter becomes spring. I don't know if it'll be instantly warmer, but this should be a fun month with Easter around the corner, re-starting my French lessons, and hopefully witnessing the first blooms of spring by the end of the month. I've always heard that April in Paris is the most beautiful time of the year, so I'm anxious to see it for myself since it has been on my bucket list forever. It'll be fun to spend more time with some of my friends during the week as well. A couple of them will have some free time opening up, so that'll be great motivation to get out while I'm waiting for G to finish school. As soon as it's warm, I'm sure the weeks are going to slip by so quickly and I'm going to wish they would slow down. I guess I'll have roughly 3 months to cram in as many things as possible, but at least I'll be outside and will hopefully get to explore a lot of areas outside the city. I'm excited! So go away février, and make room for March!Chelseahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03103889430771817665noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4329101936853705191.post-72366325192795423422016-02-10T15:06:00.000+01:002016-02-11T07:36:31.112+01:00trois fêtes de FranceSo far, we are 41 days into the new year. Don't ask me how that's possible. I feel like I just wrote my last post and that was 2 weeks ago! But no complaints here. I'm thrilled that time is flying by so quickly. It means winter is passing by faster than I could have hoped. These past couple of weeks have been kind of a bummer because of how cloudy, rainy, stormy, and windy it has been. I don't mean overcast, but tolerable, but rather very foreboding clouds that practically mandate that you stay home in the warmth and protection of your house. Which is precisely what I've been doing for the most part. Having to walk a mile the other day in rain and 20 mph winds to pick up G from school and not being able to use an umbrella because it keeps blowing inside out isn't exactly a picnic. I'm so over this season.<br />
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But on the more interesting side, France has celebrated 3 specific holidays or festivals since ringing in the new year, none of which are widely celebrated in the U.S. the way they are here. The first was Three Kings Day, also known as Epiphany, which was celebrated on January 6th. This is the 12th day after Christmas and essentially celebrates the 3 biblical magi visiting the Christ Child. It is not strictly a religious holiday, and is primarily celebrated by eating a <i>galette des Rois</i> or King Cake. The name for this cake and the type of cake varies by region and even by country (this isn't just a French festival). In northern France, the <i>galette des Rois </i>is a round, flat pastry with a <i>la fève, </i>a small figurine,<i> </i>hidden inside. They also come with a paper crown.These galettes are sold in every single boulangerie by the dozens all throughout the month of January. From what I understand, the galette is cut and the children hide under the table and call out the name of the person who gets the next slice. This is to keep things fair, because the person who ends up with the figurine in their slice gets to be "King" or "Queen" and wear the paper crown. The King or Queen is responsible for buying the next galette at the next party. My host family bought a couple of these galettes, and I ended up Queen with the last one. Huzzah! Mine came with a cute little snowman figurine. Definitely keeping it and the crown as souvenirs.<br />
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The second festival was <i>La Chandeleur </i>or<i> Fête des Crêpes</i> celebrated on February 2nd, 40 days after Christmas. La Chandeleur is also known as <i>Candlemas</i>. This religious background of this holiday is to commemorate the presentation of Jesus in the temple. But today it's mostly know as the day the French eat a lot of crêpes. No complaints here. My host family made a stack of crepes and we ate them throughout the day. My favorite crêpes are with ham and cheese (<i>jambon et fromage</i>) but since these were made with a sweet batter instead of salty, I opted for some nutella or jam.<br />
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The third festival was Carnaval de Paris, which took place this past Sunday on February 7th. This is similar to other Carnaval celebrations around the world, and is essentially a giant parade with costumes and music from around the world. I had just found out about this the day before, so I wasn't sure what to expect. A little online research told me which metro stop to go to and what time. After church, me and a friend went, but since we were a bit late, we never did find the full parade that walked along an established route to Place de la Republique. However, we did find several groups that were stationary and we enjoyed sitting and watching the costumes and the men and women playing drums and dancing. I was a little bummed though because a friend of mine was playing with one of the groups, but I couldn't find her, and I never did see the entire parade which would have given us the full Carnaval de Paris experience. It was still fun though.<br />
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On Saturday, after my sad but honest FB post about being a bit homesick and missing Lynchburg, my French friend Isabelle invited me to hang. We drank tea, watched The Parent Trap and chatted about life, then she took me somewhere I had never been, Bercy Village in the southeastern corner of Paris. I loved it there! It will definitely be somewhere I go more often. It was this really pretty cobblestone street with small stone buildings on both sides, filled with stores, restaurants, and even a pet shop which we visited to look at puppies. :) On the end is a movie theater, so it is a perfect spot to chill on a Saturday night. She took me to a place with amazing cheesecake, and after we devoured slices of the raspberry flavored ones, we headed to a movie with another friend of hers. We saw The 5th Wave...it was bad, don't waste your time.<br />
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Other than that, my church's life groups have started for the spring. They finally have one that's specifically for au pairs since our schedules are so abnormal. I went to the first, but somehow completely forgot about the second week since it was so gloomy and I was having a homesick kind of day. But it's good to have something to look forward to on Fridays.<br />
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I've also started brushing up my French skills with Duolingo. I haven't scheduled my private French lessons yet (hoping to start those next month), but sitting down with my old notes from last semester hasn't really helped me determine if I've really learned the material. But I've been flying through Duolingo's lessons and it has boosted my self-esteem a little in terms of what I am grasping.<br />
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Next week G's two weeks of school holidays start, and I will have him during the first week and I will be free from the 20th to March 1st. I'd like to get out of town during that time, but I'm not sure it'll happen, so we'll see. If it doesn't, I plan to use that time to really cross a lot of things off my must-do list. Since my vacation is only a week and a half away, and by the time I'm back to my normal schedule it'll be March already, I imagine this month is going to speed by. Not complaining though. Every day that passes is another day closer to warm weather and longer days. *sigh* I can't wait.<br />
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Well, that's pretty much all that's been happening the last couple of weeks, hence the shorter post compared to the rest. I haven't been able to get out much during the week, but I have been able to catch up on a little R&R and was able to chat with a couple of friends I've been missing. Hopefully, things will pick up and I'll have a lot more to share once I'm on vaca.<br />
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À bientôt!Chelseahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03103889430771817665noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4329101936853705191.post-25319617521923914462016-01-26T20:59:00.000+01:002016-01-26T21:00:23.788+01:00joie de vivre<div class="MsoNormal">
This beautiful French phrase literally means "joy of living." It describes a zest and
happiness for life itself. Something has changed this month for me. I know we
are in the midst of winter, but the promise of spring and new life, making new
friends, and continuing to check items off my list of to-dos while living here,
have slowly but surely been fanning into flame a <i>joie de vivre</i> that has ignited inside of me. <o:p></o:p></div>
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There are songs I can’t seem to get out of my head, and
every time I start singing them to myself I can’t help but smile. One in
particular that seems to penetrate even the coldest days to warm my heart and
soul is <i><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=REUPPN33tBs" target="_blank">Never Come Back Again</a> </i>by
Austin Plaine. This song was written for wanderlusters, such as myself, and has
the ability to bring me back to reality and really appreciate just how
remarkable it is that I am actually living outside of the U.S. I don’t think I’m
taking it for granted, but after 4 months here, it still doesn’t feel real. I
feel like when I get home and have a job and my own home again, I’m going to
have to look through my thousands of photos to actually believe it happened. The
fact that I could be visiting neighboring countries very soon, and that I’ve
already planned out what is sure to be a spectacular day in Iceland on my way
home to the States, I literally just cannot believe this is my life and this is
really happening. For so long…SO LONG…I wanted to just pick up and go somewhere
new. I had been to 8 countries prior to arriving in France, but it had been
several years since my last trip out of the country. That yearning to travel
and have new experiences is what has pulled me along through this entire
adventure like an unstoppable force. <o:p></o:p></div>
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Since my last post, I’ve been able to check off a few more
items on my very long list of must-do items. On Saturday, me and my friend A made
our way to the southeastern corner of Paris to the Cinémathèque Française. Basically,
it is a museum of the history of cinema, including a library of books on cinema
and movies you could check out, and there was an exposition on Martin Scorsese
and his contributions to film. All of it was truly amazing. The museum part of
the building had cameras and gadgets from 100 to 200 years old, old film reels
were playing everywhere, and there were even some incredible movie props that we
were surprised to see there, including the head of Norman Bates’s mother from
Alfred Hitchcock’s movie <i>Psycho</i>, as
well as the mechanical man from the movie <i>Hugo</i>
on display in the Martin Scorsese expo. I still haven’t seen <i>Psycho</i>, which I am told I absolutely need
to do. As fascinating as it was, I think my favorite part was seeing my friend
in this place. It was on her list of must-do items before she came here. She
worked in the cinema industry in Columbia and I didn’t realize just how much
she knew about all of it until we got here. Every corner we turned, her eyes
would light up and she would get so excited about everything she was seeing. I
think my favorite reaction was when she saw the head from <i>Psycho</i>. Her hand flew over her mouth, her eyes bugged out of her
head, and she just pointed and squealed. It was entertaining in the best way
possible, and thanks to her, I learned a lot about cinema that day. <o:p></o:p></div>
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On Sunday, I left the house to head to church, and forgot
that the RER A was not running in my town. After consulting my handy RATP app
to find an alternative route, all of which took 3 times longer than normal, I
realized that I would miss church entirely no matter what I did. So I decided
to visit Musée de l'Orangerie which is located in Jardin des Tuileries. A
smaller museum by far compared to the others I’ve been to, but this one had
more of Claude Monet’s work than any of the others. The entire top floor is
dedicated to his <i>Water Lilies</i> collection,
even though many more paintings from this collection exist in other museums. But
the top floor had two large, oval rooms with a long painting on each of the
four walls in each room. Benches in the middle allowed you to sit and enjoy the
paintings. Normally, I don’t linger too long and stare at paintings, but for
these I made an exception. These were so beautiful. They all had the same
theme, but were all unique. I love gardens and landscapes. Anything that shows
the beauty of nature. His work is breathtaking. <o:p></o:p></div>
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Yesterday, we had the nicest day we’ve had in I don’t know
how many weeks. Since November, maybe? It was 55 degrees, clear blue skies, and
barely any wind. It was wonderful. There was no way I was spending the day
inside, so I ventured out to a massive park that I had been meaning to check
out, but it’s just been so cold. Bois de Boulogne is located just across the
Seine from the 16<sup>th</sup> arrondissement. If you pull up a map, it’s the
biggest green space in or near Paris. I had seen pictures online of a lake
there, and I knew that’s where I wanted to go. So I picked up a ham and cheese
(<i>jambon et fromage) </i>baguette and took
my journal to see if it was as beautiful in real life as it was in pictures. It
was better than I imagined. I can only picture what it will look like when the
trees bloom and there are flowers there. I can’t wait to see it. As soon as I
saw the water, I couldn’t stop smiling I was so happy. Happy to see a forest,
to see a lake, just smiling from the inside out, and taking tons of pictures. I
walked about halfway down one side and found this little path I actually walked
past at first. It was a short path to a concrete platform right on the water
with two benches that were hidden from view of the main path. It had a perfect
vantage point to enjoy the islands in the middle and the footbridge that
connected them. There were dozens of white boats docked underneath, and more
geese, swans, and ducks than I could count happily enjoying the warm sunny day.
It was gorgeous, and I was on cloud 9. Perfect spot to journal and take photos.
Thankfully, everyone that started to walk down the path turned around when they
saw this small area was occupied, so it was the perfect space for some privacy
and quiet reflection. It is now my favorite spot in the entire city, and I am
literally giddy thinking of how beautiful it will be in the spring.</div>
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I’ve seen beauty wherever I turn lately. I’ve seen it in history,
in art, in people, in nature. But I’ve asked myself why these last few weeks
have felt different. I’ve seen all of those things since the day I arrived in
France exactly 4 months ago today. So what changed? For me, that answer is
simple, but it’s not simple to explain. It’s my perspective that has changed.
There’s no person, place, or thing in Paris that has brought me to the brink of
<i>joie de vivre</i>. <o:p></o:p></div>
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Before I arrived, before I even knew I would leave my full
time job, my house, my friends and family to come to France, I was just not
happy with life. My life had reached a new level of boring. I was trying to
move, desperately applying for jobs in North Carolina, and every rejection felt
like a blow to my confidence. I never met anyone new, and most of my friends
couldn’t just hang out on one day’s notice. There were no new places to go,
nothing new to see, and I spent most of my days at home watching Netflix
wondering when my life would take a turn for the better, if it would ever feel
exciting, or if I would just continue on the conveyer belt of going to work
every day, coming home, going to sleep, waking up, repeat. I thought the answer
was a new job and new city. I wanted a new adventure. When I decided to be an
au pair, and everything began to snowball into place to make it happen, I
thought now…<i>now</i> my life will be
great. <i>Now</i> I will be happy. It’s new,
and living overseas was something I have dreamt of doing my entire life, but never
thought I actually would see that dream become a reality. As the waiting began
for when I would finally be on a plane, I remember thinking <i>I just need to leave everything behind and be
on this adventure. Then I’ll be happy.</i> <o:p></o:p></div>
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I arrived in France. It had its ups and downs, just as I knew
it would. In the last 4 months, I’ve been pushed and stretched to the breaking
point of my comfort zone. I’ve had to overcome fear and I’ve had to put myself
out there to make friends. I’ve hit points where I’ve felt so unlike myself, so
out of my element, to the point where I did not recognize who I was and that
scared me. Then I went home for Christmas, and I thought ok now…<i>now </i>I’ll be ok. I saw my family and my
best friend and was able to recharge, and I returned to France refreshed and
happier than I was before I left. And still, I had tough days. I don’t want to
wish away my time, and some may think I’m crazy for this, but there were and
still are days when I long for the day I return to America to get back in the
working world, have my own place, and feel at home again. But once again, in
the last few weeks, I’ve asked myself, is that what will finally make me happy?
Why am I still searching? What is the problem? Why am I still not completely happy
with life? Why does it feel like I am just waiting for the next thing on the
horizon instead of living today?<o:p></o:p></div>
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I’ll tell you, because I knew all along what the real issue
was. I wasn’t happy…I lost my <i>joie de
vivre</i> for so long because I wasn’t trusting the source of true joy. I have
so many unknowns in my life right now. Enough unknowns that could cause a
planner such as myself to freak out and panic. I was confident before coming
that this journey was exactly what I was supposed to do, and all the cards fell
into perfect place. Not one detail was a coincidence. God has shown me over and
over that He will take care of me and has proven time and time again that His
ways are greater than any I could have chosen for myself. I still have
unknowns, many outstanding prayers that don’t have answers, still more
insecurities about a job when I get home. It was the anxiety and worry that
were blocking my joy. I don’t know when or how, I just know that at some point
this month, God has brought me to a point of trust and peace. That doesn’t mean
I don’t still doubt or pray or cry. But it’s different kind of praying and
crying. A kind that is saying <i>I know,
Lord. I know I can trust you, but I also know You still care and You still want
to hear my hurts and doubts and fears</i>. There’s a verse that actually comes
to mind in moments like these that has stuck with me. Mark 9:24 says “I do
believe; help my unbelief.” Story of my life. My head and heart know that God
will never fail, that He is trustworthy, faithful, that He is doing great
things in my life, and that He loves me immeasurably more than I can wrap my
mind around. I know this. But I’m still prone to doubt, fear, anxiety, anger,
uncertainty, and unbelief. I’m so thankful that He is patient and kind, and
that He is present in every circumstance of my life. My best friend. My peace
in the midst of the storm. <o:p></o:p></div>
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There are good days and bad days ahead, but my joy of living,
my <i>joie de vivre</i>, isn’t in the days
to come, and I’ve finally realized this. It’s not only longing for the days
when favor and abundance run rampant and particularly difficult storms are just
memories of lessons learned. It starts here in the unknown, staring out at the
dark sky and not knowing when the dawn is coming, but knowing it will come,
that the sun will rise, and I’m not standing alone. I can simply allow Christ
to hold my hand, and we can stare together at the night sky, appreciating the
incredible beauty that can only be seen in the darkest hour. <o:p></o:p></div>
Chelseahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03103889430771817665noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4329101936853705191.post-65722283451553759142016-01-18T11:43:00.002+01:002016-01-19T00:04:07.538+01:00Catacombs, d'Orsay, friends, and frigid weatherIt seems like winter has finally arrived in the City of Light. Until now, there have been a smattering of cold days here and there, but for the most part, being outside was fairly tolerable with the right outerwear. But this past week, like the rest of the world it seems, it's been frigid and intolerable. I even saw a puddle that had been frozen over the other day on my way to the RER station. First time it's been cold enough to freeze water. This past Friday was so cold, that when my host parents got home from work, I didn't even want to go into the city. I was quite content to stay warm in my pjs. But I'm only living in Paris one time in my life, so the next morning, I begrudgingly layered on clothes and my parka, and headed into the city for the day.<br />
<br />
I was meeting a new friend from Russia and her friend from Croatia, and we spent the day getting lunch, eating gelato (in a very warm shop, not outside in the freezing cold), and wandering around Bastille, République, and the area near Notre Dame. This new friend was wearing holey jeans, sneakers with ankle socks, and a jacket not nearly as thick as my parka, and she didn't seem particularly bothered by the icy temperatures. Meanwhile, I'm trying not to picture myself on a Caribbean beach and how wonderful the sun would feel beating down on my skin. If the wind wasn't blowing and we were walking, it wasn't horrible. But for those who know me well and know my disdain for all things cold and winter, you would probably be surprised to have seen me wondering outside all day on Saturday. That evening, I said goodbye to my warm blooded friends, and made my way to the apartment of the friend I met at Hillsong. She and I had dinner last week after meeting at church, and this time we met at her place near the northeast side of Paris. This is as far east as I have been so far within the city. I've really enjoyed getting to know her though. Sometimes you just know you were meant to meet someone, and I know it wasn't an accident that I went to Hillsong church on that random day and sat in that random seat. Definitely wasn't just a coincidence. Her boyfriend lives in Germany and she invited me along for a weekend next time she goes. They are also planning a trip to the US late this summer, so it would be really fun if they were able to visit me.<br />
<br />
Since my last post, I've really made an effort to check items off of my list of must-do items while I'm here in France. I don't always have people to go with, so getting motivated to head out into the cold weather by myself is hard sometimes. When the warm weather rolls in and everything starts to bloom, I'll probably never see the inside of my house until it's time for me to go to bed. But for now, it requires an extra boost of energy and a desire to make sure I do everything I want to do.<br />
<br />
A couple of weekends ago, I set out for the Catacombs of Paris and Musée d'Orsay. The catacombs are the final resting place of about 6 million Parisians due to the limits of space in graveyards at the time. You can read more about the history <a href="http://www.catacombes.paris.fr/en/catacombs/more-2000-years-history" target="_blank">on their official website</a>. It was really interesting. I opted for the audio guide which was a few euros more than the ticket to enter. The catacombs are about 5 stories underground, and actually lie below the level of the metro. However, the tunnels were not nearly as dark and dank as I was expecting. At 5'6", I could walk the entire length of the tunnel without ducking, although at some points, the ceiling was about 6 inches above my head. People close to or over 6 feet tall might not find it as comfortable since there would be a lot of ducking in some areas. But the entire tunnel was well lit, and there were a lot of people walking through, so was it scary? No, not at all. Although, some might find it creepy that the bones were generally arranged in decorative ways. The entire length of the tunnel had a black line painted on the ceiling. Since the catacombs are a labyrinth of tunnels (most of which are closed so people don't get lost and die...which did happen originally), the line on the ceiling was to guide people through without getting lost. I took a lot of photos, but here are a few.<br />
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After leaving the catacombs, I headed to Musée d'Orsay. Most of the time, the lines for museums are pretty long. But I was pleasantly surprised when I got out of the RER and saw that I could walk right into the building. The museum is beautiful on the inside. The main part of the museum is open with rooms around the outer edges which display permanent paintings and other art. There was even another mini Statue of Liberty where the sculptures were located.<br />
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I really wanted to see the paintings of Monet and Van Gogh first. The impressionist section of the museum was on the 5th floor. 5th? Where is there a 5th floor? I was so confused, but turns out, there is no 3rd or 4th floor to visit. Instead, when you walk to the back of the museum, there is an escalator that takes you to the very top, in a separate wing of the museum. It was here that I got to see the work of Monet, Van Gogh, Degas, Renoir, and many more I wasn't as familiar with. I am no art expert, nor do I feel the need to sit on a bench and stare at a single painting for half an hour. But I can still appreciate the beauty of the work I was able to see, and it felt surreal to see paintings firsthand of artists I've heard about my entire life. Here are a few of the ones I saw.<br />
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Renoir (this one reminds me of the painting in an episode of Gilmore Girls. Kristy, if you're reading, the exact one from GG is in Boston, so go find it!)<br />
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Monet, from his "Water Lillies" collection.<br />
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Monet, the bridge at Giverny that I cannot wait to visit this spring.<br />
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Degas, whose work primarily consisted of paintings of dancers.<br />
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Van Gogh<br />
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Van Gogh<br />
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I forgot to take a picture of the artist's name for this one, I just really liked it with the French flag.<br />
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They also had an exhibit in the back of the museum of Charles Garnier's famous opera house, better known as Palais Garnier. They had a huge model of the opera house, but cut in half to display the interior layout. They also had a model of the city near Opera under a glass floor that you could walk on. I wasn't entirely sure of the purpose of this, but it was pretty cool. I kind of wish they would have hidden a little Phantom of the Opera in there somewhere. Would have made me laugh.<br />
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Last week, my old roommate happened to be in Paris. She is a professor at my alma mater, Liberty University, and will be leading a trip of students to eastern Europe this spring. In order to be a leader, the tour company requires an orientation. So she and a few other profs from LU came to town this weekend. Katy came alone a few days early to have more time to explore the city. She even brought me some American goodies that are priceless commodities on this side of the pond: Jif peanut butter and Utz crab chips. I was thrilled, and have eaten peanut butter toast every morning since. Last night, I made my host mom try a small spoonful of peanut butter. She said they had seen peanut butter on American tv before, but she had never tried it. She looked at it apprehensively, then took a bite. Her face was pleasantly surprised, and I got a <i>C'est bon! </i>(It's good!). So I considered that a victory. I explained that peanut butter and chocolate were basically a staple in American baking, and told her I'd find a recipe for peanut butter chocolate cookies and make them. G tried my crab chips (my host mom wouldn't touch them) and gagged. I made his older brother try a couple too, and he said "It's weird." I went on to explain that not everyone in America liked crab chips or Old Bay, and it was a pretty "Maryland" specific taste.<br />
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I had fun showing her around the city, even though our time was limited. But I did get to cross something off my to-do list while she was here. My host mom had told me to visit Tour Montparnasse, which is a skyscraper that overlooks the entire city of Paris. 56 floors up, the views were incredible. It was cold and windy, but not a bad day to visit. It rained for a few minutes, and we went to the inside of the top floor to seek refuge and noticed that a rainbow was spreading across the city. Excited, we sprinted back up to the outside deck and took a bunch of pictures. What was really awesome was seeing the rain behind the Eiffel Tower. The rain in the photo was situated right over my suburb, Houilles, and sure enough, when I got back home it had rained there. I thought that was so cool to have seen it rain in my town from so far away.<br />
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Rainbow!<br />
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Rainbow over Jardin du Luxembourg.<br />
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Sacré-Cœur Basilica in Montmarte in the distance, and the Louvre toward the bottom of the picture.<br />
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Awful shadow over my face, but oh well.<br />
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Although it was absolutely beautiful up there during the day, I can't wait to visit again at night and see the city lights. Although, the one downside to this particular visit is it will forever be the location I found out Alan Rickman (our beloved Severus Snape) died. Thanks Soph.<br />
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As far as updates on my French, I was able to set up private lessons, and I will start those in March. They are more expensive, so based on what I've already paid, I will only be able to do 1 per week over 8 weeks. That's ok though. It'll give me more time to do other things in Paris. I have to say though, most people here speak some level of English, particularly people my age. Learning English is required in the public school system here, and even G has some English vocabulary to learn from time to time. This is why G's older brother who goes to university speaks such good English. I'm sure some Parisians may be less inclined to be helpful, but everyone I've met so far has been very gracious about the language barrier. There have been a couple of times when I went to Chipotle where I walked in intending to attempt to order in French. They speak English well there, so I tend to use that as a crutch. But the first time I resolved not to speak English, I walk in and say one word: <i>assiette. </i>This doesn't translate to the word "bowl," but rather "plate" or "dish," but it is the equivalent of ordering a burrito bowl. The first time this happened, as soon as I said this one word, the response was a friendly "ok, white or brown rice?" Alright then. So I proceeded to order in English. I get to the cashier, and we had a funny moment where she meant to ask if I wanted water, but she said "agua" (Spanish for water), then shook her head and apologized then said "water." Then after I paid, she says a friendly <i>"Bon appetit! </i>Whoops, sorry, I mean, enjoy!" I walked away laughing to myself because a French girl just apologized to me for using French in her own country. The second time I attempted to walk in and order the same thing, I said the same word again: <i>assiette</i>. And I got the same reaction of asking if I wanted white or brown rice in English. There was no one behind me in line, so I started laughing with the girls asking what gave me away, and that I would come in to try to order in French and somehow I seemed very American. They laughed and said that it was my accent. I told them I was trying, and I'd have to work on that. I really enjoy going there, not just because it's Chipotle, one of my favorites, but because they are so fun and friendly. Although, I guess I have to work on my accent when speaking French.<br />
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I have to say, this week I have been thinking a lot about how frequently I meet new people from all over the world. I remember being in Lynchburg and sitting in my house with just wishing I could meet new and interesting people. I was at the point where I was just bored with life until I came here. Now, it seems like a distant memory that I ever was bored or had a lack of new people in my life. This weekend alone I hung out with 4 new people over a period of a couple days, and that's not including those I met in the last couple of weeks. I love it. I love hearing about someone's life that was not in the same bubble that I have been in for the last 11 years. It's just a really exciting time in my life, and I'm so thankful for it. I may be cold, but I'm never bored, and as of late, the loneliness I had been feeling before the holidays has subsided greatly. Now if it would just get warm outside ASAP, then life will just really be awesome.<br />
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Until next time!Chelseahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03103889430771817665noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4329101936853705191.post-40188576525400455942016-01-06T22:28:00.001+01:002016-01-08T13:25:43.464+01:00Marie's Estate, New Year's Eve, and Hillsong Paris<span style="font-family: inherit;">Why is it that the days leading up to my Christmas break in the U.S. seemed to crawl by at a snail's pace, but somehow I blinked and I've already been home for 10 days? It feels way longer than 10 days. And we're already nearly a week into the new year. Time is a funny thing. Wish for it to speed up, and it'll feel like the clock is standing still. Lose track of time because of busy schedules and what not, and all of the sudden you're scratching your head and wondering how on earth you've been living in France for 3 and a half months already.<i> Je ne sais pas.</i> </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">When I got back to Paris last week (last week? seriously? it was just last week?), my poor host mom was super sick and ended up staying home for a couple days. By day 2, she was feeling better, but still took the day off work, so she gave me the day off. I took the opportunity to head out to Versailles again with the intention of visiting the palace that day since it is indoors and it has been cold outside. However, I get there, and I see this...</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Are you kidding me? Yes, this is in fact the line to get into the palace. Did I miss something? It's a Tuesday afternoon for crying out loud, why are all these people here?! I thought about turning around and leaving, but Versailles isn't the easiest place to get to from my suburb, so I just decided to suck it up and visit the extensive grounds instead. The last time I came in early October, I just bought a ticket to the gardens, which are directly behind the palace. But the grounds are huuuuuge and go way past the gardens. So I took the little "Petit Train" out to the Grand Trianon, the Petit Trianon, and Marie Antionette's estate, which includes her hamlet (her little village she had built) and her farm and the grounds beyond it. This area was only 10 euro to visit, and the gardens were open to the public that day.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">It was in the 50s and mostly sunny, so while it was a little chilly, it was actually a pretty pleasant day to stroll around. The more I walked, the more I fell in love with the place. I have to go back when it is warmer and rent a bike to ride around. If it is as beautiful as it was in the winter when the trees are bare and no flowers are in bloom, I can't imagine how lovely it is in the spring. Part of me can't really blame Marie for wanting to escape palace life and instead building her quaint little village to spend lazy days. But as the Queen of France, shirking her responsibilities wasn't really a luxury she could afford, and she lost her head because of it. The farm had live animals, and for the first time in my life, I heard a rooster crow in person. It was hard to believe I was at a tourist location, because it was easy to just walk along the paths and be completely separated from anyone else. I did a giant loop and ended up back at the Grand Trianon near the Grand Canal. I still didn't cover all the grounds, because the estate is just that big. I walked along the canal all the way up to the palace and by that point, it was about to close for the day. Not a bad way to spend a Tuesday. Here are a few of my favorite pics of the day.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Grand Trianon</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Petit Trianon</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Oh hey, Marie! Thanks for inviting me to check out your place.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Marie's Hamlet and Estate</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">(ignore the random people at the front door taking a smoke break and ruining my picture)</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrYGFVuvVVk4rsSL6jlkE1WJ7mOzFlTtjfq6mcGwA7WJ-xCmn5Yte_gVYVjsC-YkKeNNhx2E8FhwEPRiUis-iSpoCxqRKb01u5lfhC26mxfTRmusF9cRulpckEEK-6ROJkbIXty0x9-AiZ/s1600/DSC_0202.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrYGFVuvVVk4rsSL6jlkE1WJ7mOzFlTtjfq6mcGwA7WJ-xCmn5Yte_gVYVjsC-YkKeNNhx2E8FhwEPRiUis-iSpoCxqRKb01u5lfhC26mxfTRmusF9cRulpckEEK-6ROJkbIXty0x9-AiZ/s640/DSC_0202.JPG" width="640" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Sunset over the Grand Canal</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimDhuIgtBk-buQ117lEm_YXsNWSlQoM0mJEpdThukJmTuZrwT2whil8LBREqO-OjF670z8vhVfJg4m0GuqCxSNPbcizQ-arItZKAfLBbnaPQ5GFpWZ3ikoeVYLbW4lnT8ahdVf7Z9gnA5P/s1600/DSC_0209.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimDhuIgtBk-buQ117lEm_YXsNWSlQoM0mJEpdThukJmTuZrwT2whil8LBREqO-OjF670z8vhVfJg4m0GuqCxSNPbcizQ-arItZKAfLBbnaPQ5GFpWZ3ikoeVYLbW4lnT8ahdVf7Z9gnA5P/s640/DSC_0209.JPG" width="640" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">After leaving Versailles, I headed out to Garches, which is
nestled between Versailles and my suburb. I was invited to dinner by one of my
closest friends here in Paris, but I had never been there before. I mostly use
the RER and Metro, but the SNCF trains, which mostly travel outside of the
city, are not as familiar to me. But I found my way there, and was able to
navigate to their apartment with no issues. I love their family. My friend A
and her hubs and 3 adorable kids have been so welcoming and I’ve been so
grateful for that. One of the first things A asks when I get there is if I like
chicken tacos. Umm…I love Mexican food and you just made my entire night. While
she’s getting dinner ready, the kids take me back and show me their rooms. The
oldest two decide that we are going to play Monopoly, so before and after
dinner, that’s what we did. Somewhere, they found a version of Monopoly that
looked old school, but was in French, and the names of the properties were all
streets in Paris. I gotta get me one of those. I hate to brag, but I'm good at this game, and I did end up
winning. However, it was down to me and their 9 year old son, and though he
landed on my hotel-laden properties 3 TIMES, the kid held his own until the
very end. It was pretty impressive. What’s more impressive about their oldest
two kids (9 and 7. The youngest is 2.) is that they already speak French quite
well. The kids went to French immersion school in D.C. for 3 years, so when the
husband was relocated to Paris for work, the kids were enrolled in French
public school. A and I have chatted about how jealous we are at the opportunities
theirs kids have, and how learning a language at that age is something we wish
we could have done. So I may have beaten him in Monopoly, but he’s
winning at learning French. We had to have him read a lot of the Chance cards for us. #jealous<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Since we’re on the topic of French, mine is not coming along
as well as I’d like. Not having been in class or looking at my notebook for
nearly a month was stupid of me. I should have been periodically glancing over
my notes, and now I feel like everything fell out of my head. This past Monday
was my first day back in classes, and this time I was in a different class. It
didn’t go well. I’m not good at the oral exercises. In fact, I suck at them.
Maybe a lot of that is my confidence, and maybe it’s just that I know when
others around me are better at something. The people in my class are mostly
college age, which means they have just come from studying French and it is
fresher in their minds. I studied it 10 years ago in college, and retained none
of it. I basically was starting from scratch, even though I knew a few things I
tried to teach myself over the years. I felt so crappy about myself on Monday,
that I ended up leaving early with the intention of going to the school’s
office to talk about alternatives, because the classroom just isn’t working for
me. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">In college, I studied business. Business is a lot of theory, not rogue
memorization, so in those types of classes, I need to be in a classroom. It’s
how I learn best. Learning online or on my own for those types of courses just
didn’t cut it for me. But learning French, this is basically memorization, and
I just can’t do that in a classroom. I have to be alone with my notes, I have
to really think about it, organize it in my notebook and visualize it. Then, I can
collect my thoughts and speak the words I am then confident I know. But being in the
classroom and being put on the spot has put me in stressful and at times
embarrassing situations, and while my instructors and classmates have never
made me feel uncomfortable, I just feel like an idiot. I know it’s in my head.
But it’s too expensive to keep paying for these classes if my learning isn’t
coming directly from the lessons, but when I’m studying the lessons on my own
later. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">It’s a bit embarrassing for me to admit this. I wouldn’t consider myself
a quitter, especially at something I’ve wanted to do my entire life. But I just
need to find a way to learn the language that works for me. So Tuesday morning,
I didn’t go to class. Instead, I emailed the school and explained why I didn’t
think the classroom was working for me, and asked about private lessons. The
one on one lessons are more expensive, yes, but if they have a spot and I could
use the money I’ve already paid through the end of the year to do maybe one lesson a week, then study on my own the rest of the time, I think that would
alleviate the pressure, stress, and whatever is blocking my head from being
able to just grasp this language the way I want. The school emailed me back and
said they were going to review my request (and they also said not to be so hard on myself). So we’ll see. If this doesn’t work
out, I don’t know what my next option would be. A lot of people quit coming to
language school, even if it is required for their visa. From what I can tell,
the only way it would be an issue if I stopped attending all together would be
if I wanted to come back next year and needed to renew my visa. Then, I would
have to prove I stayed for the year. That would obviously not be a problem
since I won’t be coming back for another year. But I still don’t want to quit.
I’m here to learn French among other things. I just need to put my money to
good use and make sure I’m learning the way I need to learn.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">But back to last week. New Years Eve was the most fun I've had in a long long time. I don't know about you, but whenever I think about what NYE should be, I think huge party, dancing, and just a level of energy that can't be contained. I've seen parties like that on TV or in Times Square my entire life, and to be honest, for the last I don't know how many years, I've spent NYE alone. Why? Idk...I guess because no one I knew was doing anything and no one was assertive enough to put something together. So a year ago, I sat on my couch alone watching the ball drop in NYC on TV, then went to bed at some point after that. Not very exciting. Just another night that happened to start a brand new year. Big deal. But if you were to tell me then that one year from that night I would be getting ready to party in the new year in Paris, I'd have thought you were out of your mind. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">The night started out by meeting my friends at our friend J's apartment who happened to be out of town (sad). We planned to all spend the night there so we didn't have to go back to our homes super late, and we could just sleep in. So we went to a local grocery store, bought some cheap food for dinner and went back to the apartment to get ready to go out. I had Googled things to do in Paris on NYE, and found this website with about 20 different parties you could buy tickets for. Each party had a certain number of tickets available, so we picked the cheapest one which had a limit of 1500 people. So that is where we headed around 10:30 PM. After hopping the metro, we get out of the station, which is right along the Seine (very pretty at night), and see this super long line coming out of the venue. Ugh. By this time, we had about an hour till midnight, and we were just hoping we'd get inside and not be in this line when the new year began. With about 15 minutes to spare, we make it into the door and through security, got our drink tickets, checked out coats, and made it onto the dance floor. For an event with 1500 tickets sold, it was surprisingly not crazy crowded. There was plenty of room to dance, and the venue was beautiful with two huge dance floors, one upstairs and one downstairs. The only unbelievably crowded area was near the bar. I think we counted 4 bartenders total for I don't even know how many people. It was crazy and very squished. We were in line hoping to have champagne in hand when the clock struck midnight, but we didn't quite make it. At least we had made it inside though. With a minute left of 2015, the dance music stopped and the DJ began the countdown. It got darker and darker until finally 2016 was here and the place went crazy. I can't even describe that moment, other than to say it was so. much. freaking. fun. People are dancing, kissing, jumping up and down, screaming, hugging, the music is blaring, and I'm jumping up and down just so excited we had found such an awesome place to spend NYE. You can see a video of it on my Instagram. 10 minutes later, we finally had champagne in hand, and toasted the new year. I'm so thankful to have had the opportunity to come to Paris and meet friends from all over the world. The girl on the left is from Ukraine and the one on the right is from Columbia. Super fun girls and I am so happy I got to spend NYE dancing and having the time of our lives with them.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">The rest of the night was just non-stop dancing. The music was mostly in English, with a few other songs thrown in, so me and my friends are dancing and singing to everything from a dance version of Adele's "Hello" to "Wannabe" by the Spice Girls. At some point, a group of French guys joined us, and I end up dancing most of the night with one of them. And when I say dancing, I mean like legit dancing, where he is teaching me some of his fancy footwork and spinning me around all over the place like he's from the cast of Dancing with the Stars. We were out until 6 AM, and here I was thinking I'd be tired by then, but nope. I could have stayed out longer, but the event was coming to an end. Sad day. We hopped on the metro back to our friend's apartment and all 3 of us passed out on her bed. An excellent New Year's Eve. I doubt any NYE will ever come close to that one.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">It took me a few days to get my sleep schedule back on track after that night. On Sunday, I went to church, then took my Kindle and got some lunch and some coffee. I was killing time until 4:30, because I had found out that Hillsong church had a campus in Paris. For those that don't know, Hillsong is a huge church based out of Australia that has campuses all over the world. They are most well-known for the worship music they write and produce. A lot of churches use their music during their own services. I'll be completely honest, I kind of had a few expectations when I went, and it ended up being exactly what I was picturing. I don't want to come off like I'm being critical, but I'm definitely used to a more simple type of church where the sermons go deep into the Word, and this was not quite along those lines. The energy in the room reminded me of Wednesday night campus church services at Liberty University when I was in college. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Instead of elaborating much on what wasn't really my cup of tea, and yes there were several things I could list, I want to name a few things that I thought were particularly awesome. Since I'm in Paris, the service is obviously not entirely in English. They go back and forth between English and French songs during worship, but they have both translations on the screen so you can know what it is you are singing. It was really cool singing these songs in French, when I don't speak the language well, but seeing the translation of the words pouring out of my mouth. The sermon was tag-teamed by the pastor, who is Australian, and a translator. So he would basically say something, and she'd repeat it in French. At first, I thought this would be distracting, but it was actually kind of cool to hear him say something, and then hear what it would sound like in French. I was trying to record a clip of this, but some church worker creeped up behind me, made me practically jump out of my skin, and told me it was prohibited because people will record it and put it online. I wanted to say, "yeah that's exactly what I planned to do, what's the big deal?" but I didn't. I guess because it's Hillsong, they are afraid of copyright stuff. Whatevs. Lame. The other awesome thing that happened was meeting the girl that was sitting next to me. I walk in, and found a seat in the back row of the front section, and a girl came in and sat down next to me. We started chatting and 2 minutes later, we're exchanging phone numbers and she says we should meet for a cup of coffee and she could help me with my French. Ok then. Didn't take long to make a friend here. Just goes back to what I said in a previous post about the church in general. It's instant community, and I love it. I will probably go back to the Hillsong service, but it definitely won't replace the church I go to on Sunday mornings. I have to say though, even going to 2 different churches this past Sunday, it made me miss Gospel Community in Lynchburg even more. So much so, that I spent yesterday catching up on some of GCC's sermons. No church is perfect, but it was exactly the right fit for me, and after spending nearly 6 years there, it was home. I miss the people, the worship, and the sermons so much.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">This week has been back to a normal routine. Last week, G still had school holidays, but this week was back to walking him to school and picking him up in the evenings. It's been nice to have some alone time during the day, and just catch up on rest. Now that it's after Christmas, it feels like my time here has sped up. It was easy to think of all the things I still want to do while I'm in France and think "oh I have plenty of time, Christmas isn't even here yet." But now that I've actually created a list (in Microsoft Excel...because I'm a nerd), it's like "oh crap...I need to start scheduling these things out to make sure I can fit them all in." Most of them I'm going to want to do in warmer months anyway, so that's not a huge stretch of time to fit them all in. I need to get the indoorsy things out of the way during these cold months. I do have more time during the weeks now though, so hopefully I will start checking things off left and right. I started researching something else I'm really excited about that I hope to do in the next few months, but I'm going to keep that a secret for the time being. But it would be so much fun if I can do it.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Well, this was a long one, and I appreciate you taking the time to catch up on my adventures!</span><br />
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Bonne année!Chelseahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03103889430771817665noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4329101936853705191.post-28314682983245261122015-12-28T15:50:00.002+01:002015-12-30T10:12:59.278+01:00Christmas in AmericaHow is Christmas already over? How are we already 4 days away from a brand new year? I literally cannot believe I've already been in France for 3 months now. Trying to figure out my au pair duties, how to get around Paris, studying French, and making friends has definitely made it feel like I haven't been here that long. Back in October, I decided that I really wanted to come home the week of Christmas. I hadn't planned to come back to the States until next summer, but I really just wanted to spend this particular holiday with my family.<br />
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The weeks leading up to the day I left were hard. I could feel myself getting more and more down about life; particularly, what in the world I am going to do when I come back home next summer. Where will I go? When should I start applying for jobs? As much as I am enjoying my time over here, I've really missed having a full-time job, my own place with my own things that are currently crammed into a storage unit in Lynchburg, my car, and of course, being able to easily communicate with everyone wherever I go. I know I've said this before, but living here really is like an out-of-body experience. I left the job I had for nearly 6 years, the town I lived in for 11 years, all my possessions, my friends and family, and hopped on a plane to live in Paris. In many ways, I am so proud of myself for finally doing something I've talked about my entire life. But nothing could have prepared me for the level of isolation and loneliness I feel sometimes. I think a lot of that stems from not feeling quite myself here. I have made wonderful friends, but I was even talking to someone here once who is also American about how making friends here can't really compare to the friends and family back home who truly know you, that you have history with, and who know exactly how to encourage you on the hard days. If I'm having a hard day here, chances are I won't talk to or see anyone. It's just different for sure, and I can't count the number of moments when I've felt like a ship without a rudder. Again, mostly asking myself what comes after this adventure abroad when I return to my normal life.<br />
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I've been trying not to long for this time to go quickly so I can get back to normalcy. It sounds crazy that I've been doing that at all. But need I remind everyone that I'm not here on vacation. A vacation lasts a couple of weeks and you try to cram as much touristy stuff in as possible. I live here. Temporarily, yes. But this is my home until July. Perhaps there's this misconception that I see the Eiffel Tower every day, and life is so easy and great and I spend my days sitting at cafes reading books. I can assure you, that is not the case. I have work to do at home with G, working on French (it's hard...really hard), and let's not forget it's winter here. I just picture all my old LUO friends hopping in their cars outside their house, driving to work for 15 minutes, then parking and having a 1 minute walk to get inside. And I'm over here walking probably 1-3 miles on any given day in the cold and rain. When spring comes, there will be zero complaints on my end. Walking around in the warm sun will be a breath of fresh air. But winter...ugh...winter. I've never been diagnosed, but I'm positive I suffer from seasonal affective disorder (appropriately nicknamed S.A.D.). But seriously, when it's gloomy and cold, it's like a gloominess that seems to creepy down deep into my soul. On cold, damp days, I have to make myself go out and take advantage of this incredible city that is my current home. The minute the weather is warm, the skies are blue, the days are longer, and everything starts to bloom, it's seriously like I'm reborn and everything just feels better about life. There's more skip in my step and I'm just an overall happier person. *sigh* Just a few more months till spring. Just a few more months until the many Parisian gardens are in bloom, and I can grab a blanket and a book and go spend my free afternoons basking in the sun. I. can't. wait.<br />
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Christmastime in Paris was fun, and very beautiful. Lots of wonderful things to see and the Christmas markets were great. But knowing I would be home, and not very many people knew, I was just counting down the days until I got a break. The morning of December 18th, I dropped G off at school and walked back to the house as fast as I could. I called an Uber and 10 minutes later I was finally on my way to the airport. I flew AirFrance round trip, and it was a direct flight into D.C. The flight was long, and had been delayed a few minutes. Nearly 9 hours to make the trip. I got to D.C. around 5 PM on Friday, which is 11 PM in Paris, so I wasn't very tired. I was pretty much running on pure adrenaline knowing my parents were waiting for me. And good grief, the security to get into the U.S. It wasn't horrible, but there were just so many check points, and now they have these kiosks at customs where you have to scan your own passport, type in your info, then it spits out a ticket that you have to take to the immigration officer. They stamp your passport, then you head to baggage claim. After finally loading my bags into a cart (I took back a lot of stuff I didn't need in 2 suitcases, and only brought back 1), I was literally running toward the exit. Then there was another checkpoint where I have to give some other person the ticket from the kiosk, and then there was an officer with a drug sniffing dog literally right before the exit. I wanted to say "Seriously, I made it though security in two airports, had my luggage scanned, flew 9 hours, just picked up the luggage I haven't had the entire flight, and NOW you think I somehow smuggled drugs?" but I refrained. Finally I made it out the doors, saw my parents and ran over and gave them hugs. I was talking a million miles a minute because...they could understand me speaking in rapid English! AND they could understand my sarcasm, so no need to dial it down! Best day ever! I chattered like a child that won't shut up most of the way home, and marveled at the American flags at the airport and all the signs in English.<br />
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I had a lot of fun surprising my grandparents, aunts, uncles, and cousins. I think the best reaction was my dad's mom. We pick her up for church on Sunday. My mom goes inside to get her, and I'm in the back seat with my head turned away. She had just been asking my mom if they were going to Skype with me this week, and was excited to do that. Then as she is getting into the back seat she said "well who is this?" She thought it was my sister, so she wasn't even looking at me when she said it. Finally, she looks up and sees me, and looks shocked and starts crying. I'm surprised I didn't give her a heart attack. Later that day, she embarrassed the heck out of me at a restaurant when she tried to set me up with a Marine who had just returned from Okinawa to surprise his family for the holidays. My dad knew the friend who had picked him up from the airport, so as they were all leaving, my not-at-all-subtle grandma openly asks his mom if he is single. The more she talked to his mom, he ended up right behind her and directly looking at me. Yes, he is hearing all of this, and I'm covering my face in horror, pretending I'm not hearing any of this. Finally they left, and I hope to God I never see that guy again.<br />
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I also got to spend an entire day with my wonderful best friend, Sarah. I picked her up the night I got in, and we had the entire next day together. We got Diatri's (a staple in my hometown), manicures, I got to drive everywhere, went shopping, and chatted about life. That night, we came back to my place and watched movies with my sis. The rest of the week, my mom was off work, so we got to spend a lot of time together. I made sure to hit all my favorite restaurants, and Sarah made sure I got the one thing I didn't think I'd be able to have...Cheerwine. They don't sell it in my town, but she ended up picking some up later in the week. I drank them all in one day and it was glorious.<br />
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On Christmas Eve, we hit a lot of parties that my parent's friends were throwing, and that was a lot of fun. Christmas Day was the best though. After a nice, relaxing morning where I finally got to give all the Christmas presents I had accumulated over the last month, my aunt, uncle, and cousin from North Carolina arrived, and the rest of my family in town came over. I don't think there is much in this world that beats sitting around with my extended family and enjoying each other's company. I love my family, and I am so thankful I have so much of it. They love to have fun, and they love each other like crazy. One of the most encouraging things that happened was chatting with my uncle that night. We talked about potential job opportunities where he lives and he said he would help me find a job. I've wanted to move to Charlotte for so long, but recently, more and more people have told me to check out Raleigh instead. My aunt and uncle live in Chapel Hill, which is close, and they invited me to come live with them for a little while when I get back so I could find work down there.<br />
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That conversation did so much for my recent mood. I don't like not knowing what my next step is going to be in terms of a job, and I didn't know what I was going to do when I got back next summer. I figured I'd just move and hope for the best, but now having people in my corner that are going to help me look and are giving me suggestions for which companies to look at, and I sent him my resume too, it just makes it more realistic, and I will have family support while I make that transition. So that has been a huge step that I've taken this week, and it has put this whole Paris experience in perspective for me. It will only be another 6 months, then I'm going to have to come back and find a new job. It'll go by quick, and I have a list of things I still want to do. But it feels like it has put me in motion again. I have a plan, a goal, a next step. I don't feel like a ship without a rudder anymore. My mom told me any time I start to feel a bit lost or lonely, to start researching the Raleigh area, and realize that this adventure I'm on will end, and not to miss out on it. 6 months sounds like a long time, but then I look back at how quickly this entire year went, and how quickly the last 3 months went. It's really not that long at all. That same aunt and uncle, and one of my cousins, are likely coming to Europe while I'm still here for various reasons, but that gives me something awesome to look forward to as well. I've been dying to go to Normandy and Omaha Beach, and if I could somehow make that happen with my uncle who retired from the Army, that would make it so special.<br />
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The day after Christmas, I had an evening flight back to Paris. The flight back was only 6.5 hours, compared to the 9 to get here. Don't ask me how that works. When I got back to the house, and slept for a while, the jet lag wasn't as bad as I anticipated. I'm back on my normal sleep schedule, and to be honest, it's a strange feeling knowing I was just in the States and now I'm back "home" in France. France is somewhere you go on vacation for a week, not the other way around. And it's also weird to think I'm so far from my family after just seeing them. I was telling my sister while we were sitting in her room watching movies that being back in my parent's house felt like I had just been there. I've definitely gone 3 months without visiting home before, so she and I both felt like it was almost like I've just been down in Lynchburg, working like normal, not half way across the globe. But coming back to Paris was different this time. I have friends here waiting for me (I've already had one welcome me back and invite me over for dinner with her family). I know my job duties now. I know how to get from place to place. It's familiar, not scary, not unknown. I'm definitely looking forward to warmer months and more adventures, including planning a fun night out for New Year's Eve with my friends. 6 months left in Paris, and many, many things on my list of things to do. I'd better have at it. North Carolina will be there when I get back. :)Chelseahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03103889430771817665noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4329101936853705191.post-88510851122309856972015-12-15T17:14:00.000+01:002015-12-15T17:14:27.797+01:00150th anniversary of Printemps<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
So this is just a mini post about the 150th anniversary of the giant department store Printemps. I happened to hear about the window displays and how elaborate they were, and I had intended on checking them out at some point. But the other day, my normal RER was experiencing crazy delays, so I had to use Gare Saint-Lazare to get home. After class, I had lunch with a friend and afterward got some Starbucks and read for a bit at Saint-Lazare. I didn't feel like heading home yet, so instead I decided to wander around the area, and just happened to end up on this super ritzy shopping street, Boulevard Haussmann, where Printemps is located. Happy coincidence! And the window displays were no joke. A lot of the major designers you can find at Printemps combined their efforts and created some truly amazing Christmas displays. I took so many videos and pictures, I decided to just post them all here so everyone could see how incredible they were. I think this weekend I'm going to make it a point to go all over Paris at night to see the lights, and I definitely want to come back and see the Printemps buildings lit up. But for now, I hope you enjoy these as much as I did!</div>
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This next one actually scanned your face and put it on this fairy, so that's me!<br />
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Chelseahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03103889430771817665noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4329101936853705191.post-60656454151923741922015-12-15T16:58:00.002+01:002015-12-15T21:41:10.979+01:00Disneyland, nuns, and fainting spellsIs Christmas really 10 days from now? How on earth did this happen? That means in 11 days, I will have been in Paris for a full 3 months. 3 months?! How has time gone so quickly? I literally can't believe it.<br />
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The last few weeks have been pretty chill. A couple of Fridays ago, me and some friends went to see a showing of the famous, award-winning film Amélie at this cute little theater in Montmarte (a Paris neighborhood). The theater was kicking off their new series "Lost in Frenchlation," which they will be hosting once a month. They will be showing French films with English subtitles. This was exciting to me for 2 reasons. 1) I have never seen the movie and knew it was a "must" since moving to Paris, but still never got around to watching it. 2) The movie was actually filmed in Montmarte, so seeing it for the first time on location was really awesome. Not only that, but the screenwriter for the movie, Guillaume Laurant, was actually there to introduce the movie. Keep in mind, this is a very small theater that wasn't even close to being full, so it was such a cool thing that he came out to talk a bit about the film. What's more funny is that me and my friend actually were squeezed into the tiny bathroom with him before the movie and had no idea who he was. Hope we didn't insult him by not realizing it. Oops hah. But he smiled at me and was friendly so perhaps not.<br />
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The next day, I FINALLY got to go to Disneyland Paris! You can check out the full album on my Facebook, but here are some pictures from this super fun (albeit very cold) day.<br />
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The day after Disney (it was a very full weekend as you can tell), it was the first Sunday of the month, which meant free admission to Musée du Louvre. I went with 2 friends from church, and we ended up waiting in line for an hour. Security to get in took forever because of everything that happened last month. But we finally got in, and wandered around the wing with all the paintings. I'm not exactly Miss I-know-all-about-art, but it was still really nice to walk around and see the artwork. We did stop in to see the Mona Lisa, which is way smaller than you'd imagine, and the most crowded room in the entire Louvre. But I hadn't been in there for 10 years, so I wanted to see it. On the wall facing the Mona Lisa is the largest framed painting I've ever seen, and it depicts the first miracle of Jesus when he turned the water into wine.<br />
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Here are a few more from that day at the Louvre:<br />
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Painting of Louis XIV King of France</div>
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View from the second floor</div>
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The Winged Victory of Samothrace</div>
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David and Goliath</div>
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As far as my French classes go, I had a bit of good news. The intensive course that I'm currently in runs Monday-Friday 9AM-12PM. I've learned a lot, but it has been very difficult getting to and from class and being in class so much on top of being an au pair. The au pair sections of the class were full, which is how I ended up in the intensive course at the beginning of the trimester. But now, there are spots available in the au pair sections, which means instead of 15 hours of class a week, it's only 6 hours and only 3 days of the week. I have Wednesdays off which is important for au pairs since kids get out of school half day, and now I will have Fridays off. The classes are also not in session when the kids have school holidays, so now I won't be missing important information and have to play catch up. Plus it costs €190 less than the intensive course, so that was a huge blessing.<br />
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The downside to having to switch classes though is the fact I will have a different teacher and different classmates. I really like my teacher and my class is so great. Half of our class is made up of nuns from all over the world, and 3 of them in particular have been so much fun. They are such joyful and generous people, and they love to joke around. Plus they think I'm really funny so we've had a lot of good times. They spent 3 years in the US before coming to France, and after this year they will be heading to Australia. They sure get to travel a lot! A nun from another class is actually from New Jersey, and on our class field trip last month, she and I got to talking and turns out she has heard of my alma mater Liberty University, and had a friend who actually went there. Small world! Hopefully I will still see them all around the halls, but I still am not sure what time my classes will be, so we'll see. It would be a huge bummer not to see them at all though.<br />
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The only other interesting thing that happened lately was nearly passing out on the RER yesterday. I was on my way to class, and thanks to tons of train delays, there were tons of people packed in this particular train. I was standing with my back to the door and the couple in front of me had their kid's stroller pushed up against my shins. So in addition to be exhausted from a bad night's sleep, I was standing in a stuffy train car in my parka with my knees locked. Not normally a problem. I've only ever nearly passed out once before in my life (while I was a bridesmaid in my cousin's wedding...that was embarrassing...). So at first when that vaguely familiar feeling started creeping over me, I was thinking..."no way...NO way am I about to pass out on this train. I'm going to fall on this kid, people are going to freak out...no....no..." Ummm yeah. I reached for the nearest handle I could find and decided to get off at the first stop (which is not the stop I was headed for) and just sit down as quickly as I could. The train was CRAWLING and I was getting a bit frantic. Finally we are almost to a stop, but at this point I was swaying pretty badly. I didn't realize how badly until I staggered off the train when the doors finally opened and haphazardly walked over to a bench, and turned around and two people had followed me asking if I was ok. Ahh...great. So you noticed? After asking if they needed to call someone and if I was ok, and telling me to eat something, I finally waved them off assuring them I was fine. But thanks to this particular station, the trains usually sit at this platform for about 5 minutes. So yes, that was 5 minutes of me sitting there alone eating my sad banana, looking at my phone and trying to ignore the 100 or so people staring at me like I was going to collapse on the floor. Awesome. As soon as that train finally pulled away, I went home and went to sleep for a few hours. So not only did I miss another French class, I was exhausted for the rest of the day. Oh well. I guess it makes for a good story.<br />
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But that's all for now! The cold weather is still a drag and is really putting a damper on my mood. But that's winter for you. I still need to make my way down to the Champs to check out the Christmas lights, so I'm going to try my best to do that on Thursday. Hopefully I will have some good pictures to share.<br />
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À bientôt!<br />
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Chelseahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03103889430771817665noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4329101936853705191.post-67008735406948529812015-11-28T15:45:00.000+01:002015-11-28T23:55:59.947+01:00tis the season<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Christmas cheer has descended upon the City of Light. The
rues and storefronts have been strung with lights and decorations, and the Marché
de Noël is in full swing along La Défense and the Champs-Élysées. I’m currently
sitting in a decked out Starbucks in Saint-Germain-en-Laye trying to recall all
the things I want to write about since it has been a while since my last post.
Saturdays are the only days where I am able to shut off my alarm and sleep as
long as I want, so waking up today I felt like having a relaxing day catching
up on blogging, studying, and reading instead of venturing out into the city. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">The mood since the Paris attacks has been fairly normal. I’ve
talked to a few French people just asking what the general attitude was among
the French. While I think it’s safe to say people are worried, at the same time
you just have to carry on and go about your normal life. You can’t be afraid to
step out of the house. You just have to be vigilant (every time I use this
word, I think “<i>Constant vigilance!”</i>
Harry Potter fans will understand that reference.) and just keep on keeping on.
People have asked me if I’m scared, and the answer is no, I’m really not. I can’t
really put a finger on why I’m not afraid, but I guess it’s a good thing. If I was
too afraid to be in the city, then I might as well just come home to America.
But I’m not going to do that. I’m not going to come home and live in fear, and I’m
certainly not going to let anything steal my time in Paris from me. I just have
to hope that the city stays safe, and that the collaborative efforts of the
governments fighting ISIS will be successful. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">A week ago, I came to Saint Germain for the first time. It’s
a suburb (or <i>banlieu) </i>further out
than my town from the city center, but it’s so quaint and charming. As soon as
you exit the RER, you see the Château de Saint-Germain-en-Laye, a beautiful
building that sits on a large park that must be just gorgeous in spring when
everything is in bloom. If you walk to the end of the park, there is a great
view that overlooks the city of Paris. You can see La Défense and just make out
the top of the Eiffel Tower. I will definitely be visiting the park again when
it gets warmer. After walking around the park, I started wandering around the
winding streets and went into a couple of little shops. <o:p></o:p></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">I ended up at Starbucks to work on some French, and by this point it had started to rain on this already cold day. I was wearing my warmest coat and thought…this is not going to get me through this winter. So I hopped back on the RER and headed to Les Quatre Temps in La Défense in search of a parka.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">The winter chill really only began a few weeks ago, and it
will get colder still. And if you haven’t gathered from my previous posts, if I
want to go anywhere, I walk. The rail system here is really good, so most
people in the city don’t own cars. Many in the suburbs own them, but it’s
really not common for someone my age to own a car. There’s really no need,
because even if you did own one, you really don’t want to be driving in the
city. Much more convenient to walk, because with the RER/Metro/Trains the
entire city is easily accessible. When I first arrived, the weather for the
first couple of weeks was amazing. It was warm and beautiful with clear blue skies,
so having to walk anywhere was no problem for me. But it’s now November 28<sup>th</sup>.
It’s cold and it rains a lot in Paris. I don’t have the luxury of staying
inside on a particularly cold or nasty day, or the luxury of driving a car and
only being outside long enough to walk from a parking lot into a building. I
was laughing to myself the other day thinking about the few times where it was
raining so hard in Lynchburg, the staff that left LUO at 4:45 would just stare
out at the torrential downpour not wanting to walk the 50 feet to their car. I
was one of those people. If that had been Paris, you just suck it up and walk. If
it’s freezing and/or pouring rain, the kiddo still needs to get to school, I
still need to go to French class, and the walk from the house to the school to
the RER station is 0.8 miles. I use the RER and 2 different metros to get to
class so it’s a lot of walking through different stations, then it’s a short
walk from the last metro to my language school. I definitely get my exercise,
that’s for sure. No complaints here though. Keeps me skinny. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">So the key to not being miserable while making the trek all
over the place in any weather condition is all-weather gear. I invested in some
really good rain boots and snow boots before I came. I’ve only needed my rain
boots so far, but they’ve been a life saver. No need for me to avoid puddles or
be worried about walking all over the place with wet feet. Nope. I’ve noticed
that the French don’t seem to wear wellies when it’s raining. Standing on the
platform in my Hunter boots, I feel like I stand out, but I don’t care. I’ll
keep my warm, dry feet; they can keep their cold, wet ones. My nice snow boots
are going to be awesome once winter is full blown and the rain is freezing. The
problem though was my coat. I didn’t have much room to pack more than 3 coats. I
brought a trench coat, a black winter coat, and my Burton jacket. Last week
when I wore my black winter coat in Saint Germain, I realized that I needed
something water resistant and something the wind wouldn’t cut through. And while
my Burton is warm and all, it’s not really ideal if I want to stay super warm,
but I’m going out on the town with friends. I wanted something a bit nicer that
I could wear everywhere, but would keep me sane when having to walk around in
the elements. So I went to La Défense and found a black parka filled with down
feathers and a big hood. After a week of wearing it around, I can honestly say
that the €99 I spent on it was totally worth it. I literally can’t believe how
warm it is, and with the rain we’ve had this week, I can just brush the water
right off. Money well spent. Parka, rain boots, and umbrella are necessary if
you ever visit Paris in the fall or winter. Take it from someone who hates winter,
rain, and the cold. I will own this season. I will not be defeated. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Sunday after church, me and a friend took advantage of the
beautiful weather to visit the Marché de Noël. The Christmas markets are full
of booth after booth of artisan goods and foods, places to eat, and there are
even stalls of donkeys at the one in La Défense. I bought some Christmas presents
here and then we went down to the market along the Champs-Élysées, which is
much bigger since it runs down both sides of the street all the way to the
temporary ferris wheel that has been set up in Place de la Concorde. We wanted
to go on the ferris wheel, but at 12 euros for a ride, we were both feeling
cheap and decided to skip it. There were some carnival rides and even a temporary
ice rink as well. Yesterday, I went back to the market in La Défense with
another friend, and I tried <i>vin chaud</i>
(hot wine) for the first time. It was like a hot sangria with cinnamon, and was
really good. I still need to take a stroll down the Champs when it’s dark to
see the lights, but I have a month to make that happen before the markets pack
up for the season. I’m also hoping to make it to Disneyland Paris before Christmas
as well because…well, hello, it’s Christmas at Disney. I don’t need to explain
why.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">The only other thing that has kept my mind occupied is the
French language. In the last two weeks, we’ve learned future and past tense, so
I am finally able to start saying things like “I’m going to go study in Saint
Germain” (<i>Je vais étudier à Saint Germain.)</i>
or “I just learned passé composé” (<i>Je
viens d’apprendre le passé composé.</i>). But passé composé (past tense) is super
complicated. <i>Ce n’est pas facile.</i> On
top of that, the French articles have been my biggest challenge. There are so
many, and they are of the utmost importance: <i>la, le, les, du, de la, de l’, aux, à, des </i>etc. etc. Use them
incorrectly, and what you’re saying won’t make a lick of sense. I’ve stopped
resorting to asking “<i>parlez-vous anglais”
</i>when I go somewhere, unless what I need to ask is completely beyond my
ability to communicate, or they start speaking back to me and I have no idea
what they are asking me. For the most part, the French I hear in the classroom
and with my host family I am able to understand. Sometimes, that’s not the
case, but I can usually figure out what I’m hearing. In class, I’ve done pretty
well on both my tests so far, so my ability to read and write at the beginner
level is definitely coming along. What’s still super difficult for me is
hearing really rapid French, and trying to comprehend it, and also forming the
words on the spot to respond in a conversation. If I’m alone in my room and
relaxed, I can typically figure out how to form a basic sentence that would
answer a question or explain what I am doing. But in the moment if I’m put on
the spot, it’s like everything I’ve learned falls out of my head. My language
teacher keeps telling me not to stress, because it will cause me to shut down. She
hasn’t been wrong about that.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">PS, at this very moment, Judy Garland’s “Have Yourself a
Merry Little Christmas” is playing over the speakers, and it’s everything in me
not to start singing along. Fun fact, that song was written for one of my all-time
favorite movies <i>Meet Me in St. Louis</i>.
That’s right. That song wouldn’t exist if it wasn’t for that movie, and if you
haven’t seen the movie, you need to see the movie. Moving on…<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">The only other significant thing that happened was missing
Thanksgiving with my family. My mom is an amazing cook, so missing out on her
perfectly brined turkey, stuffing, mashed potatoes and cranberry relish was a
big bummer. But thankfully, I got to Skype with them for about 3 hours after I
got out of class and even got to watch some of the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day
Parade, so I was there in spirit. </span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjp2n43HJmMJa7nX-yvuiMnM5VLzZ4_VAifhyphenhyphenj6miNOxtOH9tj4WNvDKy5ZlO1EZ1MCCgg1H6vzGlLLl4Qyd_E0YKO0qZfu51WAQ7IUAw8HHqJfKrKq9YHVXmQK5AQ2oApa5gcwcR_GkgFD/s1600/20151126_161730.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjp2n43HJmMJa7nX-yvuiMnM5VLzZ4_VAifhyphenhyphenj6miNOxtOH9tj4WNvDKy5ZlO1EZ1MCCgg1H6vzGlLLl4Qyd_E0YKO0qZfu51WAQ7IUAw8HHqJfKrKq9YHVXmQK5AQ2oApa5gcwcR_GkgFD/s640/20151126_161730.png" width="640" /></span></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">It’s a strange feeling seeing them and the
house and the lake and realizing I’m thousands of miles away and can’t just hop
in my car and drive to see them. But a positive thing about being an expat that
I’ve noticed lately is how comfortable I feel in Paris now. I still am learning
the language (obviously), but after being here now for a full 2 months, this
has become my new normal. It’s normal for me not to drive anywhere, it’s normal
to not understand most of the conversations happening around me, and it
unfortunately feels normal to not be able to call or text my friends and family
all the time. I literally am in my own world across the pond. I can’t believe
Christmas is almost here, and by that time I will have lived in Paris for 1/3
of my time here already. As much as I don’t want to wish away time, I’m super
excited for spring in Paris. I want to be able to walk through all the gardens
and spend my days outside. But winter is the red-headed stepchild of the season
family, and all the wishing in the world won’t make it pass by faster. Oh well.
I’ll make the best of it while I can, and use the winter to visit indoor
places. Around May or June, I plan to visit Normandy to see Omaha Beach, and
ideally I’d make one more trip to London to visit the Harry Potter studios
before coming home. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">That’s all for now! I hope all my American friends and
family had an amazing Thanksgiving and are gearing up for Christmas. I love
this time of year (despite it being in the winter) and I so badly wish I could be
home with my family. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">À bientôt!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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Chelseahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03103889430771817665noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4329101936853705191.post-49230872485876385112015-11-16T12:28:00.005+01:002015-11-16T21:16:24.629+01:00friday the 13thFriday started out as a normal day. I took G to school and headed to my language class. We had a class field trip to Musée Bourdelle, and afterward I was really craving a burrito from Chipotle (judge all you want), so I stopped at La Défense on my way back home. I sat there happily eating in a corner, and watching a viral video that had been circulating about some young girl demanding free college in America get owned on live TV. I walked upstairs to Starbucks and got yet another delicious gingerbread latte, and laughed as I posted a pic to Instagram that my name is now "Jessie" according to the barista who misheard my name. I refrained from making a satirical comment about my red cup this time, and hoped that people were finally letting it go. I headed back home, showered, cleaned a bit, made G's dinner, and finished getting ready (I was having a fantastic hair day btw).<br />
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As I walked to get G from school, I messaged 3 of my friends to see if they wanted to meet up in the city that night. One friend, J was headed to a movie then maybe out afterwards, another had no money to go out, and another had just been told she had to babysit that night. Poor J later ended up having a terrible night on top of an already terrible day by getting locked out of her apartment and decided not to go anywhere. She recounted the entire story to me yesterday, and creepily enough, had such a bad day she had been texting a friend joking that with her luck that day, if she left her apartment she'd probably die by some awful accident. The movie she was planning to see was very close to the area where a lot of the incidents occurred, so thank God for her bad day and friday-the-13th luck. I really really wanted to go out Friday night, so I almost messaged the friend with no money to tell her I'd buy her a couple drinks, but for whatever reason I just decided to be lazy and stay home to watch movies in my room. I think it was a combination of not having definite plans and the gross weather that night, and just not wanting to be out in the misty, muggy rain. I've really wanted to check out an area called Bastille that so many people have told me to go to on a weekend with friends. So had someone been able to meet up, that would have been my suggested place to go. Bastille is in the 11th arrondissement and is about a 15 minute walk (less than a mile) from the Bataclan Club. With the metros being stopped and the chaos and curfew that ensued, I would have been stuck in the heart of the city and probably would have walked to J's apartment all the way in the 7th arrondissement (would have taken like an hour). All that to say, thank God for crappy weather, bad luck days, and being broke. All my friends are safe. None of my friends from church were hurt either.<br />
<br />
It was J that replied to the group message asking if we were all ok and telling us what happened. Her friend in the US texted her asking if she was all right, and then she let us all know. Then I started streaming the news and the FB messages from my US friends and family started pouring in. At this point, it was just chaos and no one really knew what the motive was or who was behind it. But I appreciate all the love, prayers, comments, and messages from so many people wanting to make sure I was ok. Facebook had this handy safety check thing to mark yourself safe. A pretty cool feature that just popped up on my newsfeed.<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhz0J9Zxc-szUw9T-wcCpxLuwYR5jQnuiDyO_S-lWCLYPGZA5BLfXOZNkJE2QX3-tmixwL-Z2j-7ynIAPB9uqbN334qfCp4qp0tm_vXdrZeiT1-xqxpcGDj33qbAqebp5Uz3whWJtwjI1Kl/s1600/Screenshot_2015-11-16-09-54-32.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhz0J9Zxc-szUw9T-wcCpxLuwYR5jQnuiDyO_S-lWCLYPGZA5BLfXOZNkJE2QX3-tmixwL-Z2j-7ynIAPB9uqbN334qfCp4qp0tm_vXdrZeiT1-xqxpcGDj33qbAqebp5Uz3whWJtwjI1Kl/s640/Screenshot_2015-11-16-09-54-32.png" width="360" /></a></div>
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Saturday, the city was pretty much shut down. I didn't leave the house, and at some point it was confirmed that ISIS had been behind these carefully coordinated attacks. I've of course heard of ISIS. I remember hearing about the attacks in Paris back in January revolving around Charlie Hebdo when 12 people were killed and 11 injured. When I first moved here, I noticed that when you walk into the Les Quatre Temps mall from the metro or parking garages, they check your bags every time. I also went into a Wal-Mart type store inside the mall called Auchan, where they check your bags again. I had brought this up to my host family, and I remember her telling me it was because of the January attacks. </div>
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I didn't know that in July ISIS had threatened to "fill the streets of Paris with dead bodies." And after what happened on Friday, I came across <a href="http://www.independent.co.uk/news/world/europe/paris-attacks-this-is-just-the-beginning-isis-vows-after-killing-at-least-127-people-in-french-a6734546.html" target="_blank">this article</a> yesterday where ISIS has claimed "this is just the beginning of the storm." I don't claim to be an expert on what's going on with ISIS. Before Friday, I knew of course they were a threat around the world, but I didn't pay close enough attention to the severity of the situation. Before I came here, I lived in the safety of my little bubble, and maybe in some ways tried to block out the terror happening around the world because little old me can't do anything about it. I'm literally dependent on the safety that our government and servicemen and woman provide to protect our freedom. So right or wrong, I find that it is more peaceful to allow myself to be a little ignorant about the details instead of living in perpetual fear. But being so close to an ISIS related attack, I can't really ignore what is happening anymore. They are here and they hate me. I'm American, I'm Christian, I don't believe in their cause, I am a walking target, and they have vowed not to stop. </div>
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One of the more disturbing and eye opening articles I read was one from <a href="http://www.politico.eu/article/paris-terrorist-attacks-isil-issued-warning-to-filthy-french/">Politico.eu</a>:</div>
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<i>Al-Adnani called on supporters to launch attacks wherever they could. “The best thing you can do is to strive to your best and kill any disbeliever, whether he be French, American, or from any of their allies,” he said.</i></div>
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<i>“If you are not able to find an IED (improvised explosive device) or a bullet, then single out the disbelieving American, Frenchman, or any of their allies, smash his head with a rock, or slaughter him with a knife, or run him over with your car, or throw him down from a high place, or choke him, or poison him. Do not lack. Do not be contemptible.”</i></div>
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<i>The statement continued: “If you are unable to do so, then burn his home, car, or business. Or destroy his crops. If you are unable to do so, then spit in his face.”</i></div>
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Yes, I knew these people were dangerous. But there is something about being here, seeing these places where some of these attacks happened for myself, and reading that it's not over, that really hit close to home. So why am I not on my way home to the safety of America? Because America isn't safe. ISIS is everywhere, they are sleeper agents of a deadly community that are continually plotting about who and where to terrorize next. They hate America. I'm no safer there than I am here. Perhaps that's not entirely true, since I'm in the capital of France where so many specific threats have been made, and America is quite large and it is much more likely to be safe. But I'm still not convinced. These radicals are everywhere, and they do not care if they are killed in the process of killing others. So what's to stop them from walking into some random store or mall in some random US city and opening fire? Nothing. We are living in a scary time, people. It really makes you stop and think about what's important and those you love, and what is totally unimportant (like a damn red cup). Take nothing and no one for granted and leave nothing unsaid. </div>
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I keep thinking about the one picture from Friday night that struck me most. It was one of the first photos I saw, so the attacks were still ongoing. It was outside one of the restaurants (I can't remember which one), and in it were 3 or 4 bodies covered in bloody sheets outside on the pavement. Yes, there are many photos from the other night that are like that. But this one, I don't know why, was just different for me. They were all girls, and as the news claimed, most of the victims were in their 20s and 30s. I could tell they were girls because of their shoes sticking out from under the sheets. All short boots with heels. And I sat there thinking...these girls got dressed up for a Friday night in Paris. They were out enjoying a meal or drink with friends, laughing, talking, and in one terrifying moment, they were just lifeless corpses on a cold street. In the chaos, their friends and family probably had no idea in that moment where their loved ones were. No idea that the picture they could have come across was actually someone they knew under that sheet. Their phones were probably near, and ringing off the hook with someone on the other line praying and praying for it to be answered. Is that a morbid thought? Yes, but what happened was meant to provoke terror and to throw people into the reality of the situation. This picture did that for me. </div>
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Yesterday, I went to church then decided to go to Place de la Republique and the Bataclan to see for myself the state of things. I took a lot of pictures. Here are a few:</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLrJuKaW6XqZnrz_n6iiEWYl6TsdhxkLUQB-1fKVmB4Gaz8MAK5Dli07hWXEl4JwdsNVdPbFNM90GWlBljjuGwnMUTiuBLQxf5hyphenhyphent54Bx-YZJEOlEOmKCJyH01cWmxMFN9qHcYbNmvA7yW/s1600/20151115_131022.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhLrJuKaW6XqZnrz_n6iiEWYl6TsdhxkLUQB-1fKVmB4Gaz8MAK5Dli07hWXEl4JwdsNVdPbFNM90GWlBljjuGwnMUTiuBLQxf5hyphenhyphent54Bx-YZJEOlEOmKCJyH01cWmxMFN9qHcYbNmvA7yW/s640/20151115_131022.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhry4eA2PuyyeGHfJU64LslhWBE79o9GQRs9OaS5nT0tmmxO6AGULAaUMMNdDkt350x_e_Ho2K05l1CFxXjsVNUQGd-AL0mA_IOr-tr4H4Umm1BHLJgcSMFh4yuRqCG2Ye23RkFmJYd_lvw/s1600/20151115_131159.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhry4eA2PuyyeGHfJU64LslhWBE79o9GQRs9OaS5nT0tmmxO6AGULAaUMMNdDkt350x_e_Ho2K05l1CFxXjsVNUQGd-AL0mA_IOr-tr4H4Umm1BHLJgcSMFh4yuRqCG2Ye23RkFmJYd_lvw/s640/20151115_131159.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtfUQ9JO4MC8maQUwEo2qdEzN2Xctxs9ofcECqrN3Ar3W7NswMlgQQYY924LMrCFS1q7SzMuGERcbn0oIaWWeRxY2R2UiCX3Hqh-qYpMXLXB_Xvn4TYDO_Ri0jDJhfZR4049rgh3QgPyKa/s1600/20151115_131226.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtfUQ9JO4MC8maQUwEo2qdEzN2Xctxs9ofcECqrN3Ar3W7NswMlgQQYY924LMrCFS1q7SzMuGERcbn0oIaWWeRxY2R2UiCX3Hqh-qYpMXLXB_Xvn4TYDO_Ri0jDJhfZR4049rgh3QgPyKa/s640/20151115_131226.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7uejdiGDrFUKgryt1E_AuA_aroQ4E_1UnFjV9K3Cn9AeUln3fAIuOSvR2hhqJNkTZVOPqpauH0RNVaHNMd_8M_izFMOUVjy-BXzrB9H-snmd7oPV945Di3r2vM6EFJRE5sMrm3hJ3AsD6/s1600/20151115_132009.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7uejdiGDrFUKgryt1E_AuA_aroQ4E_1UnFjV9K3Cn9AeUln3fAIuOSvR2hhqJNkTZVOPqpauH0RNVaHNMd_8M_izFMOUVjy-BXzrB9H-snmd7oPV945Di3r2vM6EFJRE5sMrm3hJ3AsD6/s640/20151115_132009.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4BQTwUP4kd1oSO8ncuUyyCfluRLOjda4dg5Kp2je8xPXOT0oDhpeh5zbLqIy5BU_Nm317-GqTMOFGritvR0PHBhSo3uR1LOKeyxSYt-t3VKazWXD8-jxduZU9N5_kE9d7z8hxTwLyjuxI/s1600/20151115_131959.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4BQTwUP4kd1oSO8ncuUyyCfluRLOjda4dg5Kp2je8xPXOT0oDhpeh5zbLqIy5BU_Nm317-GqTMOFGritvR0PHBhSo3uR1LOKeyxSYt-t3VKazWXD8-jxduZU9N5_kE9d7z8hxTwLyjuxI/s640/20151115_131959.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRwElZSNmIGKBpLW6HhzcZjpj_30Atsboql4s_bO9TnM9Ow8kqRhXIL1ihAQ4IFwuG9QWDLBzwrqmNRF29G0jUO0PUMiI2imi1uaZabvCIqoPjJpFhLcTQfmiidub8hIxG2_u3rG6rBWoe/s1600/20151115_133329.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRwElZSNmIGKBpLW6HhzcZjpj_30Atsboql4s_bO9TnM9Ow8kqRhXIL1ihAQ4IFwuG9QWDLBzwrqmNRF29G0jUO0PUMiI2imi1uaZabvCIqoPjJpFhLcTQfmiidub8hIxG2_u3rG6rBWoe/s640/20151115_133329.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqOALfS9Ee3NEtqcM5ge0u6jn85PE3jK7ABjey3kSQirk_HmoOQ-kehtfdYbKlJPXiNqD2XTJFOeqvlOMBDjKFf1CNLDGaa74_OumXUzyqfTpVufJYuVsVyV5AyY63wDMYtJHAE4JYTyTP/s1600/20151115_131849.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqOALfS9Ee3NEtqcM5ge0u6jn85PE3jK7ABjey3kSQirk_HmoOQ-kehtfdYbKlJPXiNqD2XTJFOeqvlOMBDjKFf1CNLDGaa74_OumXUzyqfTpVufJYuVsVyV5AyY63wDMYtJHAE4JYTyTP/s640/20151115_131849.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjS-Id2xMJQFL4hjhgpmjW4EsJ3Ozh6o0UmrPP7W8UlRcmn8Lsg_rpTKFP4kjcIPpMmlz6JyNgOExEXuKLSJT3uN8QOamUWBt7ZHZvs9nSep78fyS0ngI-WW6SVsj1mjYj_ZHonpvmkqjiA/s1600/20151115_135624.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjS-Id2xMJQFL4hjhgpmjW4EsJ3Ozh6o0UmrPP7W8UlRcmn8Lsg_rpTKFP4kjcIPpMmlz6JyNgOExEXuKLSJT3uN8QOamUWBt7ZHZvs9nSep78fyS0ngI-WW6SVsj1mjYj_ZHonpvmkqjiA/s640/20151115_135624.jpg" width="480" /></a></div>
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There will always be an enemy threatening our safety and freedom. We need to stand together and not be afraid. Pray for Paris, and pray for humanity.Chelseahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03103889430771817665noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4329101936853705191.post-53813642753168691462015-11-02T16:51:00.003+01:002015-11-02T19:29:26.779+01:00my week off in Paris and London<span style="font-family: inherit;">11 days since my last post. Sorry about that! I'll try my best to fill in the gaps with all the things I've done. Last week was my week off and I started off in Paris and finished out the week in London. In Paris, we had some nice weather, so after classes in the mornings, me and my friend A took some walks and visited a few places. I finally made it to the top of the Eiffel Tower when we went last Tuesday, and that was incredibly beautiful. We waited in line for about 2 hours and had to walk to the first 2 levels instead of taking the elevator. I'm not super great with heights, so as I started to climb, with nothing keeping me from plummeting to my death except the tall bars on either side of the stairs, I eventually couldn't look at anything except the stairs in front of me and try to forget how high up I was. But the views were spectacular. Once you get to the second level, there is a separate line for the top. We had to wait about 30 more minutes and finally were in an elevator headed to the summit. The elevator ride was straight up and terrifying because it's made of glass, and the top was super chilly and windy and I had to put on my brave face to get close enough to the edge to take good pictures. But we did it and felt like we accomplished something we had been wanting to do, and the day ended up being really clear and beautiful. Once we reached the bottom, we walked out to the lawns and watched the light show (my phone was dead so I couldn't record it). </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">The rest of the week was full of studying as much as I could. After my vacation to Londres, Angleterre (French for London, England), I really need to start utilizing the language more often. So Thursday, I headed for the Eurostar station to board the train from Paris to London. Getting there was quite the adventure, and I almost didn't make it.</span><br />
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<span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">The
RER in Paris doesn’t start running until 5:30 AM. I woke up at 4:45 (horrible,
HORRIBLE time to wake up…no alarm clock should ever be set to a time starting
with a 4 or 5), the water in the house wasn’t working (no idea why) so I
couldn’t brush my teeth (gross). I left the house at 5:40 with my suitcase in
tow, and walked to the train station. I waited less than 10 minutes for a train
to Saint Lazare station, and I’m thinking “great, I’ll get there in plenty of
time.” You don’t need to arrive crazy early at the Eurostar station, but I
wanted to get there with about 30 minutes to spare. So I get to Saint Lazare
and walk a little ways to catch the RER E to Gare du Nord. It was my first time
on this RER and it was a little confusing compared to what I’m used to, but I
figured things out and was on my way. Time is getting a little close at this
point, since the Eurostar I booked leaves at 7:13 AM and at this point it was
6:40. I expected to go through customs in London, so I thought I’d have time to
grab a little breakfast before boarding. Nope. I get there and what do I see? Oh…customs
is here. I scan my ticket thanks to my handy Eurostar app on my phone, and get
in line. It’s now about 6:55 and the line is long and is going very slowly. Ok,
I’m starting to get nervous. I finally get to the front of the line and have
them stamp my passport leaving France. Then I get in another line? What is this
one for? Are you kidding? Another line to get my passport stamped? Yep, one
that shows I’m “entering the UK.” 7:05 AM. Line is barely moving, and I
overhear the girl in front of me say she’s on the same train and we’re both
starting to panic a little. Finally, some Eurostar workers come over and ask if
anyone needs the 7:13 train. Umm yes… “Did you fill out a customs card?” Umm
no…. crap crap crap. I run over, and the only pen there doesn’t work. Are you
freaking kidding me? “Does anyone have a pen?!” Old guy next to me hands me a
pen. I haphazardly fill out this card, and run back to the guy that was helping
me, and he ushers me into a line with no one else in it, typically reserved for
Business Premier class. The guy at the counter is giving me a hard time, asking
why I’m going, why I’m coming from Paris, the address for where I’m staying,
when I’m coming back. Finally, he stamps my passport, now I have to go through security,
and of course there’s a line. Thankfully, Eurostar dude is ready for me and
ushers me to the front of the line. After collecting my belongings, I’m
literally running and dragging my suitcase onto the platform, and made it with
barely 5 minutes to spare. After reading for a little while, I passed out for
the entire trip after this whole ordeal. Good grief.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">When I made it to London and everything I see and hear is in
English, it was like that moment when you step into a hot shower on a cold day
and waves of sweet relief just pour over you. My host family will soon be
speaking only in French and will expect me to do the same. I know this will be
good in the long run, and I know I need to get over my fear and just not be
afraid to make mistakes, because well…I’m going to make a lot of mistakes. I
was so overwhelmed by the French language and everything coming at me that I
actually cried in class the other day. Not sobbing, but my teacher who I love
and who is so so sweet sat down in front of me during an activity and told me
she was there to help and just to ask questions when I’m lost and not feel
stressed. Her kindness is what made me tear up, but French is just such an
intimidating language. I did well on my first test, so I know there are things
that I get. But it is one thing to read and write the language and utilize what
I’m learning, in which case I feel like I do really well, and a completely
different ball game to hear it and try to comprehend. We do oral comprehension
exercises. During these, my teacher will play a CD and we have to try to
comprehend and answer questions on a worksheet. Wednesday, she played the
dialog 4 times, and I didn’t catch more than a few words. It was so fast, and
maybe part of it was me in my own head, but I started tearing up and getting so
frustrated with myself because I just couldn’t make out the words they were
saying. And then realizing that hearing only French was going to be my life
soon, it was overwhelming and terrifying. Everyone in my class who is not American
speaks some level of English. French is the third language most of them are
learning, so that too is intimidating. I know I just need to get over the fear.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">In London, I did not have more than a couple of days to really explore the city, so I had to prioritize places I hadn't been before and realize I wasn't going to see much. Thursday, I didn't have much time, but I did get to go to Harrod's, which was an enormous department store that took up an entire city block. I bought some English Breakfast tea in a Harrod's tin here.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">I did a Big Bus tour on Friday, which is really cool because it does a loop around the city and you can hop on, hop off at any of the sites, and then just walk back to the same bus stop, show your ticket to the next bus and get back on. They run constantly every few minutes, so this was a great way to travel. Plus, the top level is open so you are outside and can really get great views of the city. I started Friday with Westminster Abbey, and I wish I could have taken photos in there because it was incredibly beautiful. I did sneak a couple of photos at the end, so forgive the quality here. The first is a view down the main area of the church, and the second is the Coronation Chair that has been used in every coronation for the British throne since the 1300s. That was so cool to see. </span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">The rest of the day on Friday I rode around on the Big Bus and enjoyed taking photos of the city. Most of these I posted on Instagram or Facebook, so be sure to check them out! Saturday, was a beautiful day in London. I went to King's Cross and satisfied my Harry Potter nerdiness by getting a photo at Platform 9 3/4. They have a little store right next to it with Harry Potter merchandise, so I may have gotten a few items for me and my sister (you'll get them at Christmas!). </span></span><br />
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<span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Then I headed to the British Museum where I spent about 3-4 hours taking in the amazing items there. The thing I was most excited to find there was the Rosetta Stone. I wasn't sure it if was there, but it was and it was so awesome to see it first hand. I even bought a mug to commemorate it haha. They also had a festival going on for Halloween called Days of the Dead, so they had a lot of short shows and displays around the museum, so I had my love of Halloween satisfied. </span></span><br />
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After the British Museum, I walked around for a while, and then headed off to see Les Miserables at the West End (their version of Broadway). This is located in Piccadilly Circus, which is an incredibly touristy and crowded area. But the show was absolutely incredible and better than I could ever have hoped. I had an amazing seat and the theater was gorgeous. I walked away with another mug and a cozy shirt that says 24601 on it. If you don't know what that means, clearly you need to watch Les Mis.<br />
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The next day I headed back to St Pancras station and took the Eurostar back to Paris. To be honest, I enjoyed the things I saw in London, but I also couldn't wait to get back to Paris. There are several reasons for that, but the reasons aren't the point.<br />
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I've discovered something in the last couple of weeks, and maybe I'm just hitting the next stage of being an expat where I'm starting to get homesick, but I've been incredibly emotional and actually pretty lonely. Yes, I'm making great friends, and when I get to go places with those friends, I have a lot of fun. But when I'm forced to visit all these incredible places alone, that isolation and loneliness becomes something I can't ignore. This whole opportunity is one that I am so incredibly thankful God gave me. I am not at all sorry I am here, I don't want to quit now and come home to America just because it's hard (although, it has crossed my mind). I am constantly in awe of the things I get to see and do, and I am completely aware that I am getting to do something that so many people dream about and will never have the chance to do themselves. I can only imagine the long term impact this will have on my life and on me as a person. But let me level with you for a moment. There are many times, if not all the time, when I visit a museum, some monument, or am simply taking a stroll along the Seine when I would give anything to be able to share it with someone I love. The people I am meeting here are great people, but they have only known me for a month. I miss my family and best friends in America more than I can put into words, and I wish so badly I could have just one person here from home. Someone that knows me very well, someone I have history with, someone who knows exactly how to encourage me on the most difficult days when I don't feel like I am capable of doing this whole experience.<br />
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I can't really explain what it is like to quit my job, leave my home of 11 years, put all my belongings into storage, leave everyone I know and move to another country for a year. I realize now that so much of who I am has been shaped by my job as a Training Manager, the friends I have in my life, the family I am part of, paying my bills, owning a home and a car (driving a car for that matter), Gospel Community Church, being involved in community groups, all of that made me feel like myself. I feel like I am having an out of body experience, and while I am still the same person, I miss going to a full-time job and earning a salary, I miss the environment I was in, and I miss the people.<br />
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I will make the most of this experience and I will visit as many places as I can because I certainly do not want to look back and feel like I wasted my time here. But monuments, museums, beautiful sites...they aren't what make life worth living. I love traveling. It makes me so happy and makes me feel like my soul has come alive, but it doesn't make my life worth living. What makes my life worth living are the people God has placed in my life. My friends, my family, the one I miss...they are life. Loving those people and being loved by those people, that is life. Our relationships with other people are what encourages, builds up, loves, and cherishes us. The Eiffel Tower, the Louvre, Big Ben...yes, I am so so so thankful I get to see those places, but they don't love me. They can't speak words of life and encouragement. They can't pick me up when I feel down. I know this and can say this because I have stood at all 3 of those places and many more in the last month and I promise you that every single time I have stood there and thought..."I wish I had someone here to share this with." That thought permeates through everything I do most days. For this reason, I have held back tears at almost every place I've gone the last two or so weeks. Being an expat is not easy. I have not talked to my parents more than a few times, I haven't spoken to more than a handful of my friends because it's hard when I am so many hours ahead. I've emailed, but it's not the same as seeing someone's face or hearing their voice.<br />
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I know this is just a different season of life and that one day soon, which will probably come sooner than I realize or will want in the long run, I will be back home in the States and will be able to act and speak the way I was brought up, and most importantly, will have my support system once again. I will be within driving distance of anyone I long to see and will be in the same timezone if I want to make a call. Knowing that these months will slip by quickly, and that in the grand scheme of my life, this will only be a drop in the bucket of time, I do intend to make the most of it. But for those back home, I love you all and I miss you all terribly. If you think about it, say a prayer or even better, send me a FB message and chat with me for a few minutes. You have no idea how encouraging that would be. Thank you all for reading my posts as well, and encouraging me to keep writing. Being able to write is a cathartic outlet that makes me feel connected to everyone and reminds me to keep track of everything I do and feel, so I can look back one day and see the stages of my time here.<br />
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This week is back to my normal schedule. I am picking up G in about 40 minutes from school, and then we'll come back, eat dinner, and do homework (both of us). Again, thank you all for keeping up with my time here. I can't believe it's already November, and I'm super bummed I'm going to miss Thanksgiving. I will try not to scroll through my newsfeed that day because seeing everyone's turkey and stuffing and other goodies might be the worst thing ever haha.<br />
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À bientôt.Chelseahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03103889430771817665noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4329101936853705191.post-29405646290720302622015-10-22T11:40:00.003+02:002015-10-22T15:49:35.869+02:00it’s about to get real<div class="MsoNormal">
It’s been a week already since my last real update. October
is flying by faster than I can enjoy it. While I am super bummed that the rest
of the world does not celebrate Halloween the way Americans do, I can at least
be excited that one week from today, I will be riding the Eurostar through the
French countryside on my way to Jolly Old England to spend a long weekend in
London. I haven’t been to London in 10 years and I am so excited I could cry. I
still need to make a list of all the things I want to do, but I can’t wait!
Perhaps I will find something Halloween-y to do since I’ll be there on the 31<sup>st</sup>. </div>
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To be honest, I haven’t spent much time in Paris this week.
I went out to a movie near Palais Garnier, home of the Paris Opera, and that
was an adventure. I was super excited to check out this beautiful movie theater
called Le Grand Rex. We get there and turns out none of their movies, including
American movies, are shown in English with French subtitles, but are dubbed in
French. Such a bummer. Perhaps when I get better at the language I’ll go see a
movie there. So my friend and I set off in the direction of the Opera house,
per the instructions of the nice gentleman at Le Grand Rex, to locate a theater
that does show movies in English with French subtitles. We had pizza at a cute
little sidewalk café, complete with outdoor heaters which made it nice and cozy,
and then headed to see Crimson Peak. <o:p></o:p></div>
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After that, I’ve spent the majority of time at home this
week, which is exactly what I’m doing right now. Lounging with G and watching
some obscure Nickelodeon show. Schools here in France work differently than in
America. The kids go to school for 6 weeks, then have 2 weeks of vacation. So
this week was G’s first week, and I have him home with me. I can’t go to my
language classes this week, which is a bummer, but it has been nice to relax a
bit and play with G. I can tell that this week having to spend so much time
together has really been good at establishing our relationship. There’s been
lots of hugs, laughs, and I even got to take him and his friend to see Hotel
Transylvania 2 in La Défense. I’ll be honest, that was a bit nerve-wracking
because I had 2 kids to guide on and off the metro and through a very urban
part of town, both of which don’t speak English, so it was a difficult
experience overall. But the kids liked the movie and I saw lots of smiles, so
overall it went well. We also went to the local carnival the other day, so
there’s been plenty to do.<o:p></o:p></div>
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At home with G, he loves to draw, loves French rap and likes
to play the same song over and over and over trying to learn the words. We play
a lot of soccer, watch a lot of Disney and Nickelodeon, play cache-cache (hide
and seek), and he LOVES to guili guili (tickle tickle) me. It sounds like “gilly
gilly” in English. And he loves to be tickled back, proven by the fact that
right now as he is playing on his iPad, he’s putting his feet in my face saying
“guili guili.” He’s been super affectionate, and will cuddle up to me on the
couch if we are watching TV. The kid also has the most addicting laugh. When he
really gets going, it’s impossible not to laugh with him. And he does some of
the most hilarious things. For example, last night there was a commercial for
some show on TV, and there were a few mostly naked guys, and he looks at me and
says in perfect English “turn around” while motioning for me to turn. I busted
out laughing. I can tell he loves to make me laugh, and when I start laughing
like crazy when he’s tickling me, or if he says something I find hilarious, he
starts laughing along with me. All that to say, we are bonding and it’s been
really good. I’ve also enjoyed spending more time hanging out with the family
when they get home. There’s been time for conversation, and I’ve felt much more
comfortable and at home. <o:p></o:p></div>
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Last night, my host mom told me that when I come back from
London, she is going to start speaking to me only in French. Up until now, she
and I have been communicating in English, and despite the fact she thinks her
English is terrible, it’s actually very good and I haven’t had to use French at
home when she is here. But she knows the best way to help me learn the language
is to force me to hear it and then use it when speaking back to her and the
rest of the family. She’s right, and I know that it will help me learn, but I’m
incredibly nervous. I’m not good at French. The few times I’ve attempted it
with G, I generally get some confused expressions. I’ve picked up on a few
words that he has said and that I’ve started to use myself, such as <i>quoi</i> (what), <i>arrêt</i> (stop),<i> viens</i>
(come), <i>alle </i>(go), <i>prends</i> (take), <i>attend </i>(wait) and<i> fais</i>
(do). When he says one of these, depending on the circumstances, I can
generally figure out what he wants me to do, but having to speak it back and
use the correct articles and conjugations and it make sense…I’m not quite there
yet. I guess I won’t have much of a choice here soon. But I know this is how
they have helped their previous au pairs learn, so as difficult as it will be, I
know it will be beneficial in the long run. Like I said though, I’m incredibly
scared about this.<o:p></o:p></div>
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The family will be heading to Bordeaux all next week, so I
will be heading to class Monday through Wednesday, then heading to London. I
plan to go through all my French notes and try to commit to memory everything I’ve
learned in the last 2 weeks of class. It’s a lot, and it’s hard to imagine a day
when I will actually be able to speak it decently well. I guess only time will
tell. <o:p></o:p><br />
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I’m now being asked to go play soccer outside, so that’s all
for now. <o:p></o:p></div>
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À bientôt!<o:p></o:p></div>
Chelseahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03103889430771817665noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4329101936853705191.post-46287589416068108942015-10-21T12:26:00.000+02:002015-10-21T15:57:21.026+02:00a day strolling the Gardens of VersaillesSo this is long overdue since I went to Versailles the first Saturday of October, but I wanted to post some of my favorite pictures of the day. I didn't have the full day to spend since I had to watch G that night, but to be honest, trying to do Versailles in one day is kind of insane. I spent a few hours just wandering around the gardens taking photos with my fancy new camera. I didn't even go inside the palace or to Marie Antoinette's hamlet, which is the little village she had built on the grounds. Sometime this winter I plan to go back and do the palace and in the spring when it's warmer and everything is in bloom again, I'll finally go visit the hamlet and the Petite Trianon (both of which I'm dying to see). I will probably rent a bike next time, and even take a boat ride on the Grand Canal.<br />
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The gardens are more extensive than I realized, and although I stayed for probably 3 hours, I still didn't see all of it. Keep in mind, I spent a lot of time taking pictures and just enjoying the beauty of it all. It really is an incredibly beautiful place, and I had a gorgeous day to explore. Below are some of my favorite shots.<br />
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The Grand Canal in the distance. It's hard to tell from here, but it's a long way off and goes a long way down.<br />
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The Latona Fountain and a peak of the palace in the background. The giant circular mirror in the background is pretty cool because you can get pictures of yourself with the sites in the background. I have one further down.<br />
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The beautiful Apollo Fountain with the Grand Canal in the background.<br />
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The other side of the Apollo Fountain with the palace in the distance.<br />
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The musical fountains. They run the fountains every so often with a musical show. It was really pretty.<br />
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Around the South Parterre. My favorite palace views.<br />
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Pictures of the Orangerie from the South Parterre.<br />
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South Parterre<br />
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Palace selfie thanks to the giant curved mirrors. :)<br />
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I'll be posting a lot more photos on Facebook here soon. Just for fun, if you are curious to know exactly how extensive the grounds are at Versailles, enjoy this link of a <a href="http://www.chateauversailles.fr/resources/pdf/en/plans/plan_general_en.pdf" target="_blank">map of the entire Versailles estate</a>!Chelseahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03103889430771817665noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4329101936853705191.post-45561671912221398302015-10-15T16:22:00.003+02:002015-10-15T21:49:09.972+02:00finally...routineI'm in shock that we are already halfway through October. I've been so busy since I arrived, that the days slip by quicker than I realize. Most days, I can't even remember the date, and I have to whip out my phone to check. Don't get me wrong, I love it. I love that I have so many things to fill my time that I can say I'm busy. Before I left my job at LUO, most days (weekends included) I had to try hard to find things to do. Those days would generally end with me binge-watching some show on Netflix. Whenever my family and friends would ask me what's new, the answer was always the same..."Nothing new. Working...living...ya know, same old, same old." But not now. There's always something to do to the point where this week after my French class I've just come back to relax a bit at the house, which is exactly what I'm doing right now. Today was my first French test, and I think I did ok, but I'll have to wait until Monday to find out how I did. But overall, things seem to finally be settling into a rhythm, I have my routine down, and I am seeing much better days.<br />
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This week did not start off well. Sunday morning was terrible. Writing about it now, it doesn't sound like that big of a deal, but in the moment it was just one of those everything-going-wrong kind of mornings. My normal RER was not running, which meant I had to take a train way out of the way to get to church. I left the house as the first service was starting, and a couple delayed trains and a long bus ride later (never riding the bus again), I arrived 20 minutes late for the second service. On the way to church, I was stopped by the Metro controllers and got fined €33 on the spot for not having my picture on my Navigo pass. I knew this was something I needed to do, but I didn't know how to or where to do that. Turns out, there are little photo kiosks in every metro station, and it costs only €5 to get a set of 5 photos. How I missed these booths, I'll never know. Needless to say, I have my photo on my Navigo now. On top of that, the stress of still not having renters for my house, and some other things just compounded into one sucky morning. I ended up hanging out with friends later that day, so that was fun. Plus, my friend's husband was able to get the SIM card my host family gave me working on my phone. Finally back to my Galaxy. The only weird thing is that I can receive texts but not send them. Still need to figure that out.</div>
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As far as how things have been in the house, they have been much better. My host mom had read my last blog post, and asked to talk to me about it. She was really great about it, and we had a good talk, and since then things have been 100% better. The thing is though, I realize now that most of the problem was my perception of the situation. Whoever said "perception is reality" is totally wrong. My perception of how things were going was not at all the reality of the situation. While my host mom did talk to G about being more understanding in terms of my inability to communicate in French, the fact of the matter is I somehow just didn't stop to think about a few things. First, I know he loved his last au pair, and when the family told me this on my first day, I thought she had done something to get G to like her that I was just incapable of doing. But during my chat with my host mom, I'll call her C, she told me that the last au pair started exactly where I did. She had to build that bond with him over time, and he was the same way with her. The second thing is that, as C stated, G is acting no different than any other 8 year old in the world. And she's right. He's a normal 8 year old boy that is going to like me and not like me sometimes. As I went back to my room that night, I felt kind of dumb for not connecting these dots. Maybe it was just me being all over the place and being a bit culture-shocked, but still...I should have just realized that these things take time. I also think that I've been a bit shy around the family. Some people may not realize I have a shy side, but I do, and when the family is sitting around the table, my first instinct is not to walk in and join them, but to go to my room. C told me that this is not what they want, and that I am always welcome and that they want me to interact with them more. So I've made more of an effort to step out of my comfort zone and do just that. I started to wake up early enough that I can have my morning coffee while G is eating breakfast. It's pretty silent right now since he is a) not a morning person just like me and b) the language barrier. But I'm hoping the language clicks with me soon, and I can have something to chat with him about. </div>
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Some of my au pair friends that I've made have had such horrible placements. One already switched families, and the other is trying to get out of her situation. It made me realize how fortunate I am to be with the family I have. And with G, a few things I've noticed and I'm going to make a prediction right now. He is a great soccer player, and I'm willing to bet that he is going to be a pro player one day for Barcelona (I asked who he wanted to play for), will be famous for his amazing hair, and he is going to be a heartbreaker. I've noticed when I take him or pick him up from school that he a leader among his peers and the guy all the girls flock to. I laughed so hard one day because I showed up to pick him up, and there were a couple of girls hanging on his arms. When we left, I used my translate app to write that all the girls seem to like him. As he paused to read it, he got this cute grin on his face, then shrugged his shoulders like "what can I say?" It was so funny. He's been better with me too, and one thing we've started to do together is drawing. He came in my room late night while I was studying for my test and just started drawing pictures on my spare notecards. </div>
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Other than things at home, I've also gotten used to a few other things. The French "bise" greeting of a kiss on each cheek threw me off for about a week. I knew it was a thing before I came, but when you are conditioned your entire life to shake someone's hand, it resulted in an awkward pause the first few times it happened. Now, I expect it so it's not a big deal. Another thing I've noticed (and even brought up to someone else who agreed because it was freaking me out) is that I'm convinced the friends and family I have in America all have a doppleganger walking the streets of Paris. I've seen probably a dozen strangers that could pass as the twin, or at least the sibling, of someone I know in the U.S. It's caused me to double and sometimes triple take a look at a random person. They also have pink toilet paper in the house. Apparently, you can get a variety of colors, and I'm not looking forward to only having the boring white selections when I return to the States. haha</div>
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The biggest hurdle I've encountered this week has got to be the RER. As I wrote previously, I do feel like a pro at using the railway systems. But one thing I have not gotten used to, and it goes against every fiber of my being, is being late for things when the trains are delayed (and they are delayed a lot). I'm probably about 20-30 minutes late for class every day. Even today, G had a field trip so I had to take him to school 20 minutes early. "Sweet!" I thought, I can be on time for class today! Well...that didn't happen. I got to the station in my town at 8:10, and stood there for 30 minutes as the 4 upcoming trains were all delayed. It only took a total of 40 minutes to get to class, but I was still 20 minutes late. My teacher is totally understanding, but anyone who knows me at all knows how punctual I am, and this has been the biggest adjustment for me to make. Normally, I don't mind the commute times because I don't often have somewhere to be at a specific time. The exception is going to class, or meeting friends at a specific time. I can easily spend an hour each way (or longer) on the RER and Metro with the multiple changes I have to make. Maybe most people here are used to delayed trains and long commutes. Or maybe I've found the reason so many Parisians are chain smokers? After braving the metro each day during rush hour, I can hardly blame them.</div>
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That's about all the updates I have. Next week, G has 2 weeks off of school. I will have him for the first week all day, and I have some plans for some outings to the movies or to the park planned. The second week, he will be on vacation with his family in Bordeaux, and I'm headed to London for a long weekend to visit my family friend Kate that I haven't seen in almost 19 years exactly. I'm pretty excited for that. </div>
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À bientôt!</div>
Chelseahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03103889430771817665noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4329101936853705191.post-73019216235271546672015-10-11T00:26:00.001+02:002015-10-12T20:37:40.730+02:00the honest truth about the last 2 weeks<div class="MsoNormal">
Hello my friends. I’m coming to you today from a quiet
little corner of Jardin du Tuleries. It’s a lovely fall day, so I thought I’d
write outside. <o:p></o:p></div>
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So let’s get real. I’m not one for sugarcoating the truth,
and in the interest of keeping this record of my journey here in Paris as
authentic as possible, there are going to be times when my updates are not warm
and fuzzy. This is one of those times.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Before I came, I had a realistic expectation of what my
transition was going to be like. Yes, I was (and am) excited to be moving to
Paris, but as I said in one of my first posts, I’m expecting hard days. I’m
expecting the culture shock. I’m expecting to cry. And well, I’m here at the 2
week mark and all of that has been true. Let me first talk about the difficult
things, but I do have some good things to talk about as well. <o:p></o:p></div>
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One of the first questions I am asked about my host family
is “Are they nice?” The answer is yes, they are nice. However, I can tell they
like their space and that they want me to have a social life outside of the
home. This is obviously not a bad thing, because I know the family needs their
time together. But I feel pretty in the way most of the time, not like a part
of the family. Maybe this will change with time. But the other side of the coin
is that as much as I do not regret becoming an au pair, I do regret that I didn’t
do this when I was younger instead of as a 29 year old. I own my own house in
Virginia, have lived alone for several years, had a safe haven and place to
call my own, and a place to relax at the end of a stressful day. Now, I am in
tight quarters with a family, the only “me” space is my bedroom, and I’m
sharing a bathroom with 3 other people. The only shower in the house is in the
parent’s bedroom, so I can’t even shower while they are home, which means I typically
shower in the middle of the day after I get home from classes and before I pick
up G. I don’t feel like I have a home, because well….I
don’t. I have a place I’m staying, but I don’t have a place that is mine. I
know it’s not forever, so I can deal with it until July when G’s school year is
over. But only being 2 weeks in, it’s definitely already difficult. There are
no locks on the bedroom doors, and G likes to sometimes just walk in when I’m
doing homework or something. I also feel like I have to tiptoe around, and it’s
just difficult feeling like you don’t really belong in someone’s home. <o:p></o:p></div>
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All of this would be better if my relationship with G was
more solid. The kid is sweet, but he also has a sour side. I can never tell if
it’s my fault, or if he just doesn’t like me, or what his problem is sometimes. Like Thursday, he was so sweet. We got home, he wanted me
to draw with him so I did, I made him dinner which he liked, then we watched tv
and he wanted to play marbles with me so we did that until his mom got home.
Then later, when I was in my room doing my homework, he came in, got some
pictures with me on my computer and was just hanging out all sweet. I thought I
was making progress and he was starting to get used to me. Then yesterday, I pick
him up from school, and immediately I can tell he’s in a pissy mood. I try to
ask if he is tired, and instead of answering, he just yells at me in French
correcting my crappy pronunciation. We walked back to the house in silence, I made
him dinner and got a thumbs up that it was good, but then he didn’t say much.
This morning, I come downstairs to plug in the phone the family gave me (which
has a communal charger in the middle of the living room and it dies way too
fast…super irritating), and when I say hello, he doesn’t even acknowledge me.
Instead, he starts yelling to his mom, and I hear my name, and I have no idea
what I’ve done in the 10 seconds I’ve been downstairs. She comes over and sees
me and is trying to figure out what he’s saying. She tells me it’s something
about the charger, then she looks at him, then looks at me and tells me I’m
fine to plug in my phone. I guess he was pissed I was using the charger (which
was not being used to charge his iPad at the moment). I mean wtf kid? Then I quickly
get ready so I can just get the heck out of the house and for whatever reason
leaving was so awkward when I said goodbye to the family. <o:p></o:p></div>
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I have this anxiety that if G doesn’t like me then I’ll be
fired or something, but I don’t think that’s allowed with my contract. Or maybe
it is? I have no idea. I don’t understand how I can be so good with kids, but
for some reason this kid seems to be hot and cold. I also have started to
dislike taking him or picking him up from school, because he will start talking
about me to his friends and I get the distinct feeling the kid is talking
trash. Maybe it’s in my head. But body language speaks pretty loudly. It’s
frustrating and disheartening, especially when I live under the same roof. I
don’t want the parents to think I’m doing something wrong, but in reality they
will probably believe what he tells them. <o:p></o:p></div>
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Maybe it’s worse in my head. But I can’t understand any of
them when they speak to each other in front of me, so it’s like I’m standing
there not knowing what G is saying. I swear I’m not doing anything to piss this
kid off, he is just….I don’t even know. I can’t even explain. The one thing
that is keeping me mentally grounded is reminding myself that I feel completely
where the Lord wants me. I don’t know what I’m supposed to be learning from all
of this or what He’s going to do, but I really don’t feel like I’m somehow in
the wrong place. I just wish things would start getting better with G. Waiting
for the train this morning, I started tearing up on the platform just
completely overwhelmed and feeling like I don’t have a place to call home and
feeling like the 1 kid I have in my care doesn’t even like me.<o:p></o:p></div>
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On the upside, I have loved living in Paris. I have made a
lot of new friends just this week, and got to go out for the first time last
night with a friend from my French class. We hit up a bar in the 5<sup>th</sup>
arrondissement (which are districts, there are 20 total within the city borders)
called Le Violon Dingue. It was a pretty chill bar, and actually run by
English-speaking expats. <o:p></o:p></div>
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What I really love and am starting to feel more comfortable doing
is heading out by myself if I don’t have anyone to meet up with. I don’t want
to spend my time at the house or in my room, so I have to find things to do at
all times. This morning, I decided to head to a restaurant I found on Pinterest
before I left the States called HolyBelly up in the 10<sup>th</sup> arrondissement.
It’s an English-speaking place, and I set out for it to have brunch by myself.
I felt a little awkward at first, because it was packed when I got there and
the only single seat was at a long table that multiple parties could sit at. I
was right in the middle and felt super out of place, but I sucked it up and just
ordered coffee and food. The coffee was amazing, and this cheered me up. I
pulled out the book I brought with me (tons of people usually have a book in
hand in this city on the metro or wherever) and just read until my food came.
Oh my word…the food. Holy amazingness in my belly. Pancakes with 2 eggs sunny
side up on top of it with bacon and maple syrup. Eggs on top of pancakes? Oh
yes….and it was freaking incredible. After a few bites, part of the table
cleared up, so I moved down to the end to feel less awkward. This older couple
sat down next to me, and after a while a girl about my age came in alone and
sat across from me. When she ordered, I could tell she was American, so I started
chatting with her, then the couple next to us started chatting with us too.
They are in Paris because the husband works for the government and has a 2 year
post over here. The girl my age works for a wine company and is here for 6
months. I actually had a really good time just chatting with them. I ended up
staying for about an hour and a half, and we all swapped stories of where we’ve
been so far, and I got some good tips on what else to check out in the city. This
is the part of my trip that I really love. You really have no idea who you are
going to meet and where, but once you find another expat, it’s super easy to
just strike up a conversation because they are in the same boat. They all
encouraged me with my rough couple of days with G as well and told me that he’ll
get over it and things will get better. That turned my day around.<br />
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Yesterday, my normal train was down and it will be down for
the next couple of days. When I started to take my normal trip home, I was in
the La Défense station and the train was docked, but not moving and the lights
were off. However, there were some people sitting inside, so I got on in case
it started to go. Then there was an announcement over the intercom, of course
in French, and people started filing off the train. Alright, I guess this means
I should follow too. I get back onto the platform, and this super tall guy about
my age comes up to me and asks “Parlez-vous anglais?” “Yes.” “Oh, you’re not
French.” “Nope, was kind of hoping you’d know what was going on.” So we walk
over to some station workers and can’t find out any info. Since we are headed
in the same direction, we went together to find an alternate route home. We get
to talking, and turns out he’s from Australia and is moving back in a month. I
jokingly asked about his wardrobe choice since he was in spandex shorts and had
clearly just been working out in the middle of Paris when his stop was so far
out of the city. “Oh you know…I just love awkwardly walking through Paris like
this.” About an hour later and a couple of metro switches, we end up at Saint
Lazare station, which is huge and really beautiful, and has trains that go past
the closer suburbs of Paris. Looks like these are the only trains I can take
until the RER is up and running again. Super annoying because it’s so far out
of the way, but what can you do. After all of that, he ended up inviting me to
hang out tonight with him and his other Aussie friends that came into town
today. We’ll see if it happens, but all that to say, I love how often I meet
new people here. Not only new people, but people from literally everywhere
around the world. There’s a few girls in my French classes I’ve become friends
with, and one of which is from Columbia. There’s no shortage of topics to
discuss since everyone I meet has such different stories and they come from all
walks of life. This is what I hoped Paris would be, and is has not disappointed
me. I wanted to meet new people, see the world from other points of view, and
just put myself out there and be spontaneous and I’ve had so many opportunities
to do that and it’s only been 1 week since I made my first friends. <o:p></o:p></div>
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After my last paragraph, I packed up my stuff and headed to
meet my friend J and her friend A at a cute little place called Saint
Augustine. My first sidewalk café experience. After a while, they invited me
along with their friends to a wine festival up in Montmartre right outside the Sacré-Cœur
Basilica and its surrounding streets. It was fun, and the view of Paris at
night from up there was super pretty. But it was crazy crowded. Annoyingly
crowded. But we got some food and wine and chatted for a while, then headed
out. <o:p></o:p><br />
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Overall, it has been a really fun day. Tomorrow, I have no
idea how I’m going to make it to church since the RER A is not running. I haven’t
tried the bus system yet and I haven’t even attempted to find out how it works.
That might be my only option though.</div>
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Well, that’s all I’ve got for now. Feel free to pray for me
and G to bond because that’s pretty much the thing that makes or breaks my mood
for the day. I know that overall this experience will be the best of my life,
but not having my own space and everything else I’ve already said are making it
hard. However, after meeting so many au pairs lately, I can honestly tell you
that I have it so good, even with everything I’ve already said. Many I’ve
talked to ended up switching families or want to switch families because they
are treated so poorly. So at least my situation isn’t that bad. I just want to
feel like I’m belong here, not like I’m a rude house guest. <o:p></o:p></div>
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Anyway, enjoy the rest of your weekend everyone. <span style="font-family: Wingdings; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-char-type: symbol; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-symbol-font-family: Wingdings;">J</span><o:p></o:p></div>
Chelseahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03103889430771817665noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4329101936853705191.post-20576509224180413492015-10-06T16:11:00.002+02:002015-10-06T22:11:30.252+02:00church, the metro, and being a student once againHas it really been 5 days since my last post? I can't believe how fast the days are going. Probably feels that way because I'm still trying to get my routine down, and on top of that trying to put myself out there so I can make some friends. I feel like I have so much to update everyone on, that I'm not even sure where to begin. I guess the biggest things that have happened over the last few days have been making friends, attending the church for the first time, mastering the metro, and starting language school.<br />
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On Friday night, The Bridge (the church I started a few days later) was having a ladies night out. Even though I hadn't started going to the church yet, I was invited to come. I'm so happy I went. I made some new friends, one that actually just moved to Paris from DC a week before I did with her husband and kids. There were probably around 16 of us that were there Friday night, so I was able to meet a lot of new, friendly faces. It was refreshing and I needed it really bad. I know that at that point, I had only been in Paris for 6 days, but there are only so many amazing places you can visit alone before you think...I wish I had someone to share this with. So I really had to put myself out there and find ways to meet people. </div>
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Saturday, I went to Versailles for the day. I spent several hours just walking around the gardens because it was such a beautiful day. It was pretty crowded, so I didn't go inside the palace or visit anywhere outside of the main gardens. I finally got to use my new amazing camera, and I took tons of pictures. I'll be posting them to Facebook soon, along with some others from my time here so far.</div>
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Sunday was my first day at The Bridge International Church. It's small and intimate, and I really enjoyed it. I sat in the back row (which is not far from the front since it is pretty small), and I wasn't prepared for my emotions to come bubbling to the surface. It was at that point that I realized just how drained and exhausted I am. Since my last day of work on September 18th, I have not stopped moving. My brain has been continuously occupied with some errand or task, and I don't even have time to appreciate completing something before I have to focus on something else. I feel like my last day of work was 2 months ago, not a mere 2 weeks and some change. So there I am, in the back row, trying to hide my wet eyes throughout the service. I feel like I haven't been in church in ages, when in reality there had only been one Sunday I missed between my last day at GCC and starting at The Bridge. But for that 1 hour I felt at home. I felt like I belonged somewhere. I know I said this in my last post, but it can't be said enough. The Christian community is a family, and no matter what city or country you're in, you all have at least 1 thing in common. I've never seen any other group be able to meet one another for the first time and it's like instant friendship. The church is a refuge and safe haven, and just being around those who have the same beliefs and same hope can just bring so much comfort, especially when I feel like a fish out of water in such a different environment. We happened to take communion on Sunday as well, and it was just one more reminder that whether it was my first day or not at the church, we are still one body of believers. After church, I ended up meeting 2 other really nice girls that weren't at the ladies night out on Friday. I even had lunch with one of them, which led to my first Paris restaurant experience (I had brunch...freaking amazing pancakes with fresh fruit). </div>
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Conquering the metro has probably been my biggest accomplishment so far. It only took me a few days to really get the hang of it, and I've already given directions (correct ones) or told some poor guy today how to use his metro ticket. I'm actually really fortunate, because my host family pays for my transportation. Instead of getting a metro ticket every day, I have a monthly Navigo pass that allows me to use any of the 3 railways, the RER, Metro, and Train, as much as I want. </div>
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Usually, you have to pay a different amount for each zone you want to travel, and which railway you want to use. So this card lets me not only come and go as I please, but I have to say I feel like a local when I scan in and out instead of putting in a ticket each time. I've gotten used to the longer commutes and switching from RER to Metro back to RER and so on. It's definitely a different way of life having to walk and use the railways instead of driving a car and being at my destination in 15 minutes. But it's been fun, and to be honest, being able to ride right to some amazing museum or monument is pretty incredible. </div>
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My thoughts on each type of railway would be that the Metro is the lowest on the scale in terms of how nice and clean they are. It's basically your typically subway that makes the most frequent stops. Today was particularly crowded and hot since it was really only my second time riding during rush hour. The Metro only runs within the boundaries of Paris. The Train, at least the one I was on, was a step above the Metro, and goes the greatest distances to allow the far out commuters a way into the city. And then the RER, my favorite and the station closest to me, have the nicest and newest cars. It goes into Paris, fewer stops than the Metro, but goes to the closer suburbs as well. All in all, I don't mind the system and it has been fun learning how to use it. And of course, highly satisfying now that I'm a total pro.</div>
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Yesterday, I started my language courses. Long story short, there was an issue with my school and originally I was supposed to join the au pair classes that allow for shorter hours during the week. It was only supposed to be 6 hours of classroom time with 4 hours of homework throughout the week. There were some registration issues, and I didn't actually have a spot secured when I arrived. After going to talk to them, I was able to get into an intensive type program where I go 15 hours a week from 9-12 Monday through Friday, with 5 hours of homework during the week. It's a bit more expensive, but they cut me a bit of a deal since I was in a bind. I actually have to leave class halfway through on Wednesdays so I can pick up G at 11:30. I'm actually thankful though, because that means I will get more classroom time. I really love my teacher, and there are some cool people in my class. It's pretty small. I am 1 of 3 Americans, and there are also 4 or 5 nuns, and a few other people. The class size is pretty small, but I love it because the teacher makes sure everyone participates. Today went well and I was much more prepared than yesterday. But let me back up and talk about my first day. So I drop of G at 8:20 and class starts at 9. I was told late on Friday that they had a spot for me in this class, but I didn't know if I would be able to leave early Wednesday to pick up G. So I went in not knowing if I'd actually be able to stay and attend the class, which actually started last Monday. But everything was fine, and I was able to stay. I walk in, and the teacher introduced everyone to me by name and home country. She uses worksheets to teach the class, which are super helpful, but my first 30 minutes or so were quite intimidating. The teacher, of course, is speaking only in French. From the time I walked in, through introductions, all of it....French. If she can tell you are really on the struggle bus, she'll quickly explain something in English, then it's back to French. But I'll be honest, I was sitting there feeling so out of my element. I actually thought of the look my friend Kristy Clark would have on her face if she was in that room and laughed to myself, which lightened my mood a bit. Kristy will be the first to tell you that she has this complete inability to follow along with any heavy accents, and she has no poker face. I'm laughing right now again picturing her in that room (love you Kristy :D). </div>
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It didn't take long though for me to feel comfortable, and today I came prepared with a notepad and pen as well as a snack since I was starving by the time class was over yesterday. I actually really like how much time I will get to be there, and I like the people in there. Having to factor class in has finally given me more of a set schedule and routine that I can rely on now. Last week, I was still learning how to take care of G and also didn't know what my class schedule would be like (or if I'd even be able to get a spot at the school for that matter). So things are finally settling down. I'll be interested to see how things are within a month or two. It's been a really incredible experience so far, and I've really enjoyed meeting people from all nationalities and walks of life. It's definitely an adjustment, and there are many American comforts I miss. On Sunday, I would have given anything to just be in my own home in my own living room relaxing and able to just have some peace and quiet. But knowing how limited my time is here in the grand scheme of things means that I'm going to enjoy it while it lasts and try to live as local as I can between now and the time I leave. The family only needs me for the duration of the school year, so technically I will only be here with this family until July. Seems like a long time, but time already feels like it's flying. </div>
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Alright, I have homework and I have to pick up G in an hour and take him to soccer, so that's all for now!</div>
Chelseahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03103889430771817665noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4329101936853705191.post-87230110778094867012015-10-01T17:10:00.000+02:002015-10-01T17:15:45.451+02:00the first 4 days au pairing<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Hello my friends. This morning I write to you from Starbucks right
next to the Louvre Museum (or Musée du Louvre if you want to sound
French). Why on earth am I at Starbucks when there are a thousand very Parisian
sidewalk cafes everywhere you turn? For 3 reasons: 1) I have yet to get used to
black coffee, which is all my host family drinks, and even with a little sugar
I find myself willing to do anything for a good cup of coffee I know I can get
quickly. 2) I know it has free WiFi and I don’t have to pay to use the bathroom
and 3) I know that I can walk through the door, speak a few English words after
asking<span class="apple-converted-space"> </span><i>Parlez-vous
anglais? </i>and know that I'm not sounding like a fool and I'm getting
exactly what I want. The only downside is they don't seem to have my beloved
cinnamon dolce latte or some of the other drinks I'm used to seeing, so I have
to resort to the oh-so-basic-American pumpkin spice latte. Don't get me wrong,
I'm not opposed to a good PSL, but they do get old.</span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">I'm also at Starbucks because I've found that I've become very shy
about trying to speak in French. I guess this is a normal thing, but I wish I'd
just get over it. But when push comes to shove and I have to say
something en français, this bashfulness washes over me and I’m afraid I
won’t say it correctly and won’t be understood. I mean, I’m gonna be honest. I
don’t know a lot yet. I’m not great at French. I’ve been really fortunate
though, because until yesterday, there have been enough people around that
speak broken English that I can communicate to Gaspard (the boy I care for).
His older brother Hugo, who is 20, knows quite a bit of English, and since he
goes to college very close to their home, he is back and forth quite a bit.
Lucky for me so I can ask him to ask G things. On the way to school in the
mornings, G’s friend and his mother who live across the street walk to school
with us. G will chat with his friend, and I’ve gotten to speak to Charlotte who
knows a lot of English as well. Another mother of another friend even asked if
I would give her and her husband English lessons, so that might be a way to
make a little extra cash…although I’ve never done that before so I’m going to
have to figure out the best way to conduct lessons.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Yesterday was probably my most challenging day so far. Here, the
kids stay in school late for activities and to work on their homework. I guess
they do that so the parents can pick them up after their work times. So each
day except Wednesday, I pick up G at 6 PM. Tuesdays he has soccer, so there’s
not much time for us to really spend time together. But I’ve found that
Wednesday is going to be a hard day of the week. Wednesdays are half days at
school, so I pick up G at 11:30 AM. I have to make him lunch and dinner, make
sure his homework is done, and then find ways to entertain him. Have I
mentioned that he and I can’t communicate without someone translating?
Yesterday’s walk back to the house was a quiet one. Although I did pull out a
few French phrases I came prepared with to ask how school was, if he was hungry,
and what he wanted to do. Problem is if he responds with more than a few words,
I can’t understand him anyway. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">When we got back to the house and I fed him lunch, it was pretty
quiet for a while. Eventually, he asked if he could see if his friend next
door, I’ll call him B because I have no clue how to spell his name even if I
can at least say it. We went next door, and B’s mom answered. Another English
speaker (yes!) even though not as much as others I’ve met. We both ended up
staying because as it turns out, the kids want to watch Harry Potter in French.
Umm yes I will absolutely stay. After all, I have those movies basically
memorized, so hearing the dialog and seeing the subtitles in French could be
helpful. The boys were bored 30 min later, so they went to play in B’s room,
which meant I could go back to the house while his mom watched them both. A few
hours to myself. When G came back, I made him dinner and asked if he had
homework. He didn’t eat much again, and at this point I’m thinking great, how
do I get him to eat? He snacks a lot though, so at least the kid isn’t
starving. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">I noticed that things are a little tense between us when it’s just
he and I. How can it be tense with an 8 year old? Well, when the 8 year old
seems frustrated and unresponsive, and when the first thing he says to his mom
when she comes home is that I’m not speaking enough French, it’s tense. She
obviously tells him that it is fine that I’m speaking English. In fact, she
specifically asked that as I learn more French, I still speak to G in English
only at least 1 hour per week. The one thing G and I do together (that I
typically initiate) and I can feel us bonding is when we play soccer outside in
his yard. He smiles, uses the English he knows with me, and he has fun. He loves
soccer, and is actually incredibly good for an 8 year old. The dad even said
his son is the best. I’m thinking he’s probably going to be a famous pro player
one day. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">G is very affectionate sometimes too. He thinks it’s funny to
tickle me (me…not so much), and sometimes he’ll come in my room and play with
my Rubik’s cube and make me solve it. He also pointed out my Harry Potter 3
book in French that I brought with me. The next day when I was making his bed,
I noticed he had his own Rubik’s cube and own copy of HP 3 in his bed that he
must have been reading before he fell asleep one night. That made me smile.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">But back to yesterday. When the parents got home, they asked that
I watch him a little while longer while they went to their swimming lessons
(yes, the mom and dad are taking swimming lessons). G and I had about an hour
together again, just the two of us, and I’m racking my brain trying to think of
things to say or things for us to do. Finally, I used my Google translate app
to write him something. Thank God the kid is old enough to read. I could tell
that this immediately had the affect I had hoped. When I asked him something
else, he acted like he was typing on the phone as if to tell me <i>write it</i> and then he read it and
responded well. At last I typed <i>I’m going
to learn more French so you and I can talk more. </i>Bingo. He smiled and said <i>Ok</i> and then I asked if he wanted some
chocolate I picked up in Iceland. We sat there and ate and watched Nickelodeon
shows dubbed in French (more entertaining, but still dull). When he went to
bed, I got a shouted <i>good night Chelsea</i>
to which I responded <i>bonne nuit G.</i> <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Today I just had to take G to school, and the dad is going to pick
him up and take him tomorrow. So I’m free, but I will be watching him Saturday
night so the couple can go to dinner in Paris. Lots of time for me to explore,
but it’s still quite lonely without any friends yet. Sunday, I will be going to
the church I found, which is an English-speaking church (thank you Lord). And I
have already been in touch with 1 girl who works there. This morning, I was on
their website checking out their life groups, and turns out, there was one this
morning, and a phone number to another girl who works at the church. I texted
her and she gave me some info about the group (which isn’t starting till next
week), but she and I are meeting for coffee today at 2:30 PM. Finally making
friends. It’s only been a few days, but I can feel my need for a social life
more than I ever did back in Virginia. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">And that’s another thing I just want to marvel at for a moment. I
appreciate the Christian community so much because we literally are one big
family that spans the entire globe. No matter where you go, you have the most
important thing in common, so you can literally feel welcomed like you are part
of the family…because, well, you are part of the family. I haven’t met these 2
girls yet, but I can already tell you that I’ve felt welcomed, accepted, and
have been invited to some outings with them before I’ve even set foot in the church
doors for the first time. I’m so thankful for that. I’m thankful for people
that share my values, and of course, speak English, in a place where I feel
like a fish out of water. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div style="margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">I will likely write more later because this day is just getting
started, and I have lots of pictures to share from today and Tuesday when I
went to Luxembourg Gardens, so keep an eye out. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">À
bientôt!</span></span><o:p></o:p></div>
Chelseahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03103889430771817665noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4329101936853705191.post-91483065761307400142015-09-28T15:12:00.002+02:002015-09-28T15:39:13.540+02:00the first 48 hours<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Well, it’s finally my first new post on French soil. It’s
been just under 48 hours since I arrived in Paris, and it’s been quite a
whirlwind. I’m currently sitting in </span>La Défense<span style="font-family: inherit;">, in clear view of the Grande
Arche, at 1 of 3 Chipotle’s in all of Paris. I know, right? Could I be more
American? Give me a break. I wanted a little taste of home as I wrote about my
first 2 days à Paris. And for the record, the Chipotle here tastes slightly
different, but for the most part it’s exactly the same. Except for the fact the
only bottled water they have is sparkling. Guess I’m going to have to get used
to that. But this is good news for me. I will likely be a frequent visitor.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">And I kid you not, some little girl is at this very moment
standing right in front of me, staring at me through the glass, and tapping at
a cup. When she can’t catch my eye, she moves on to the Chinese ladies sitting
on the other side of the building. Disaster averted. And now there are 3 military
guys holding very large weapons casually meandering by like they don’t have a
care in the world. Where the heck am I?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Thoughts on </span>La Défense<span style="font-family: inherit;"> so far. It’s basically the New York
City-esque area of Paris. Tall skyscrapers and lots of businessmen and women,
but the buildings are far more interesting to look at than your average urban
downtown area. My current location seems to be the city center. It’s a large rectangular
open space so you can clearly see the Grande Arche on one side, then you turn
180 degrees and you can see the Arc de Triomphe in the distance. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Side bar: when I first got to Chipotle, I was the only one
in here. And I’m thinking “of course, they know I’m American now.” But since I’ve
been sitting here, it has gotten pretty busy. To the point where a police car
drives across the square…which is not at all a road, but rather a pedestrian
area with large pavers everywhere…parks in front of Chipotle and 3 cops walk
in. Perhaps I’m don’t stick out as much as I thought I did…</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">I left Chipotle and started walking toward the direction of
the Arc de Triomphe. I found the Areva headquarters, which is also based in Lynchburg,
VA, and I found a sweet little carousel, which looks oddly out of place in such
an urban part of the city. The architecture here though is incredible in its
own modern way.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Allow me to back up to 47 hours ago, when I had finally
landed in Paris, hauled my extremely heavy luggage onto a luggage cart, and
walked out of the Charles De Gaulle airport to meet my host family. They were
immediately welcoming, although Gaspard was a bit shy at first. But oh my word,
is that kid adorable. When we got to their house, it was a surreal moment to
walk in the door since I had seen it so many times on Google maps. Now I was
here. It was a weird moment, almost like I wasn’t a stranger. I unpacked, had
lunch with the family, and then passed out for several hours. During my nap,
Gaspard brought 2 of his friends at various times so I could meet them. It was
at this point, I gave him my presents I brought for him. A Steelers football
and jersey. The kid likes sports, so if I’m going to introduce him to American
customs, it will include American football and the best team in the NFL. Just
sayin.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">The rest of Saturday was a blur. I didn’t get to go to
church on Sunday, mostly because the family hadn’t had time to take me to get
Metro passes. I also don’t think I’d have been awake since I was still jet lagged.
But Sunday was much more interesting. First, I helped my host mom cook lunch.
She had friends coming over, and was making duck, which I have never had. But I
actually enjoyed it. After 3 meals with the family, I’ve noticed that they eat
a LOT of food. Tiny portions my butt. They keep piling food on their plates,
and asking me if I want more. Then after they eat, they go to the fridge and
grab a few snacks, mostly yogurt as a dessert (interesting). Carmel, my host
mom, actually told me that the other au pairs they’ve had have gained weight.
Hah….duly noted. We’ll make sure that does not happen to me. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">After lunch, Gaspard and the older son Hugo walked me to the
RER/Metro station and bought me day passes until they can get me a new monthly
pass at the start of October. Then they showed me how to use the RER, wished me
the best of luck, and told me to call if I needed help (the family gave me a
phone to use). Not surprisingly, it didn’t take me very long to get a hang of
the RER. I’m so used to the DC Metro, and it works the same way. So I climbed
aboard, sat down, heart pounding a bit and hoping I don’t look like too much of
a noob, and then I was off. It was only 3 stops to the Arc de Triomphe, which
is at the end of the Champs-Élysées. Paris was having a no-driving day down the
Champs, so you were able to walk down the middle without it being super crowded
on the sidewalks. I walked all the way down to the Place de la Concorde, hung a
right and eventually crossed the Seine on the Pont Alexandre III bridge. I kept
walking along the south bank (aka the Left Bank), and eventually came to the
Eiffel Tower. I didn’t even attempt to go near it because I could see how
crowded it was. Normal for weekends. But I did walk around it a bit, then
walked toward the bridge directly across from the tower. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">It was at this point that some random French guy turned
around and saw me, then became particularly interested in the fact I was an
American and was staying for a year. Although he was friendly, I wasn’t really
having it. When he asked if I was working here, and I said yes, and the
conversation got to the “are you here with your husband?” point (I know you don’t
see a ring on my finger dude) and the “so what part outside of the city do you
live?” “I can’t remember.” (of course I remember, how do you expect me to find
my way home?), finally we reach the bridge across from the tower. “I’m going
that way for a walk along the Seine if you want to join.” he says. “I’m going
this way.” “Ok, nice to meet you.” “You too, have a nice day.” 26 hours in at
that point and already hit on.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Anyway, I crossed the bridge, and at this point I pull out
my map for the first time to make sure I find the right street that will take
me back to the Champs. I’ve walked about 4 miles at this point, and didn’t need
a map. I pride myself on my sense of direction, and I poured over maps of Paris
before I came to get well acquainted with the lay of the land. Finally, I reach
the Champs, and since I have no where I need to be, I decide to go stand in
line at Ladurée Paris, makers of the best French macarons money can buy. I was
only in line about 20 minutes, and although they were a little pricey, they
were completely worth the experience. And oh man were they delicious. After I
got my 6 macarons in a souvenir box (€18 later), I made my way back to the RER
and headed home. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Gaspard came to my room last night to hang out a bit, and
was fascinated by my clothes and hats and shoes. He brought in a sign his parents
had made him of common English phrases so he could communicate with me a little
when I arrived. He’s super cute. Which brings me to today. I helped make sure
Gaspard was ready for school, and Carmel walked with me the first time to make
sure I knew where to go. I am free until 6, when Hugo, the older son who’s 20,
will go with me to pick him up. I guess I have to take my passport the first
time so they know who I am before they will let me take Gaspard on my own.
Apparently he stays until 6 PM every night for activities and to work on
homework with other kids. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">I’m not going to lie. The minute I left the school after
dropping off Gaspard, I started singing “Little Town” from Beauty and the Beast
as I made the trek back home. It’s about a 10 minute walk, but it’s in a cute
little town on the outskirts of Paris. Very quiet and safe, and the houses are
so French. I know it’s only been 2 days, but I feel like I’ve been here a week.
I feel like I can get from place to place without help, and I feel pretty safe
during the day being out in the city alone. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">The family is super friendly and hanging out with them over
meals is really fun. Yesterday, they had some friends over, one of which has
been studying English for 2 years and wants someone to be able to talk with to
practice. Umm yes, you can talk to me, and while you’re at it, help translate
to the family for me. She was really fun though. Overall, people in France are
pretty much the same as people in America, except I can’t understand what they
are saying. Hopefully, I’ll learn soon enough. There was a bit of an issue with
my language school, but I’m hoping Carmel can work it out today. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Alright, that’s all I’ve got for now. À bientôt</span><o:p></o:p></div>
Chelseahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03103889430771817665noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4329101936853705191.post-86959381461985514272015-09-20T04:36:00.001+02:002015-09-20T04:36:46.157+02:00september 18thYesterday was a day I will never forget. In just 24 hours, I felt so much love, support, and encouragement from everyone I encountered. It has been a month since my last update, and there has been a reason for that. I had to visit the French Embassy in D.C. on September 4th to apply for my visa, and since then there has been nothing for me to do but wait. Wait and wonder when I would actually be leaving, and feeling like that day was just so far off and would not come. I hated having to answer the same question I'd get multiple times a day "So when are you actually leaving?" To which I'd sigh and respond "I don't know. Still waiting for my visa." <div>
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I didn't know how fast my visa would be approved. It could be very quick, or it could take the full 10-15 business days they told me at the consulate. The day after Labor Day (also my birthday), I put in my notice at work. It didn't feel real, and it was like taking a huge gamble since I didn't know when I'd be able to actually leave Lynchburg. I felt like listing my last day as September 18th was the right move, so I did it. </div>
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Every day has felt like I'm extending out my leg, taking a step, and not knowing if there is going to be ground to support the weight of my foot. I still don't have renters for my house, and yesterday morning, there were still so many more unknowns. It was frustrating, and it tried my patience and my relationship with the Lord in so many ways. Why, you ask? It was just a matter of waiting, right? Have you ever been in a period of extended waiting, not knowing if or when the answers to your prayers will be given? It may seem silly that this was such a test of faith for me (and still is, with no renters yet), but there is so much more going on than meets the eye. I have wanted to leave Lynchburg for quite some time. I love it here, I made my home here, but I've known it's time to move on for a while. I applied for a lot of jobs in another city, but none of them worked out. Then this wonderful opportunity came along, and it has been a quick process, but still has felt like ages to me since my initial application. All I've wanted to do is pick up and go, and I couldn't. All I wanted to do was to do something new, something that was a breath of fresh air, and I had to wait for an indefinite amount of time. So in the meantime, I've spent my downtime browsing Pinterest for things to do in Paris, and making so many notes of places to go and things to see. Waiting is never easy, and there are still things I'm waiting on, and just having to trust in God's provision and timing.</div>
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And that is why yesterday was a day I will always remember. When I initially applied for the au pair position, my two biggest concerns were finding renters for my house, and wondering If I would be finished my Invisalign treatment. I began treatment in April of 2014, with no exact time frame as to when it would be complete. I knew it would be around this fall, but I didn't know how close I was or what I would do if I wasn't finished and I had to leave. Around mid-August, I went in for one of my appointments, and my Dr. told me I'd be finished by the first week of September, but that they would have to prepare my retainers at that point. So the first week of September, after going to my next appointment, they scheduled my last one to pick up my retainers for (you guessed it) September 18th. I had to marvel at God's timing on that one. Somehow I end up making my last day at LUO on the same day I would be done my treatment, after starting this almost a year and a half ago. The fact that I was so so worried about what to do back in July when it came to finishing it up, and all the while I didn't have to because the Lord had perfectly scheduled it to be complete when I needed it to be over. That amazed me.</div>
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Then there was this week. Earlier this week, through other circumstances the Lord brought to my attention, I've just been so in awe of God's incredible providence and His ability to use seemingly insignificant moments in our lives sometimes years later to accomplish His perfect plan for us. I'm just amazed by the things I've realized this week. It hasn't been all sunshine and rainbows though. I don't want you to get this picture that I have been on some spiritual high this week and I've just been some perfect little Christian woman whose unwavering faith never doubts God. I can assure you, that has not been me. I've questioned God, been angry, frustrated, and through those moments, yes, I have also experienced God's overwhelming grace and love through these revelations of His divine providence. I wanted to know when I was leaving. I wanted to be able to plan and do things my way. But I'm going to be completely honest. Earlier this week, I just had a feeling that God was going to wait until yesterday, September 18th, for my visa to come. Why did I feel like this? Because I thought...if God really wanted to show off His sovereignty and timing in ways that would just overwhelm me and blow my mind, He would wait until my last day at LUO and the same date I was finished with my Invisalign. I think you can already tell where this is headed...</div>
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Yesterday at work, I received so much love and encouragement from the coworkers I've been with over the past 6 years. I was given hugs, handshakes, told how much I would be missed, and I had to say goodbye to my closest friends and colleagues that I am going to miss so very much. It was an emotional and very surreal day. On my drive home, it hit me that I no longer have any ties to Liberty University other than being an alumna. That gripped at my heart pretty bad. As I made my way home, I had thoughts about the yard sale I had the next day, with dozens of to-dos to get done before then. I wondered when I would have to call around town for a storage unit, and when I would have to ask for people to come help me move. I wondered when my visa would arrive, when I would get to go home to spend time with my family, how I would get everything finished. I wondered if I would be going to Paris, finally going, next weekend or the weekend after. Every day this week, I thought I would open my mailbox and there would be my visa, and I could finally book my flight, but it was never there. Until yesterday. I pulled in my driveway, slowly walked to the mailbox, my heart pounding, and I'm just hoping without getting my hopes up that it would be there. I took a breath, opened it, and not only is my visa there, but the final document I needed, my apostille for my birth certificate, was sitting in there too. God certainly has a knack for showing off.</div>
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Then the tears came. I quickly got back in my car, pulled the rest of the way down my driveway, and sat there uncontrollably sobbing and laughing at the same time. I kept checking to make sure none of my neighbors could see me because at this point I probably look like a crazy person just sitting in her car, ugly crying, while the worship music I had been playing continued to blare from my car. After getting a hold of myself, I ran inside, opened the visa envelope, and there it was, neatly stamped in my passport and ready for use. I opened the second envelope, and there was my official apostille from the Maryland Secretary of State. The shock and happy tears lasted for probably a good 30 minutes. I emailed GeoVisions and my host family letting them know. My host family emailed me back this morning, and there was only one thing left to do.</div>
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Tonight, I booked my flight. This Friday, September 25th, I'll fly out of Dulles Airport, hop onto an Icelandair flight for a layover in Reykjavik, and Saturday I will finally arrive in Paris and meet my host family. One week from today, I will be in Paris. It still doesn't feel real, and I have dozens of things to get done before then. I have to pack up my house in the next 2 days so I can go home and spend a few days with my family before having to say goodbye to them for a year. I am so ready, and yet so not ready at the same time. I am so excited to start my adventure, and yet so sad to be leaving my home of the past 11 years. The transition will be a difficult one, I'm sure. But this whole ordeal has been so clearly orchestrated by the Lord, I know I can handle it. I just need to take one step at a time. </div>
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If I ever cross your mind during your day, say a prayer for me. My emotions are all over the place, my stress level is through the roof, and I'm sitting here blogging among a myriad of boxes, some packed and ready to go and others half full. It'll all get done. I have to keep telling myself that. I still don't have renters for my house, so also pray for that to happen quickly. If this week has taught me anything, it's that the Lord is sovereign and ultimately in control. We are commanded not to worry, and you'd think that would have sunk in by now, but I'm only human. I want to see the plan, but sometimes you just have to sit back and trust that there is one and it's not for us to see or know until God wants us to. </div>
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Thank you to everyone who has been so supportive and interested in my journey. I can't wait to actually be over there and start blogging about my adventures. </div>
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Paris, a bientôt!</div>
Chelseahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03103889430771817665noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4329101936853705191.post-80488053788995022582015-08-21T01:48:00.001+02:002015-08-21T15:46:04.667+02:00language school chosen and visa appointment bookedIt's been a couple of weeks since my last update, and I haven't had to do much on my end. Last week, I had to choose a French language school, and I'm not going to lie, this caused me a bit of anxiety and a few hours of frustration. I didn't get a whole lot of direction other than "Here's a list. Take your pick."<br />
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My stream of consciousness went a little something like this: Umm...ok? Great. All of these websites are in French. How the heck am I supposed to do this? Why are they all like 3 times what I was told it would cost? I'm not going to be able to go to class during these times... Ooooh they have specific programs just for people working as au pairs. Got it. That makes more sense. Ahh and there was the price range I was expecting. Ok, freak out over.<br />
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So after looking at about 20 schools, I chose the least expensive one I could find that was not in a sketchy looking location, but rather in a charming little building within a 15 minute walk to Luxembourg Gardens and a 20 minute walk to the Louvre Museum. Yes, I'm serious. Three times a week, I will hop on the RER (French for Réseau Express Régional AKA Regional Express Network) and head to French class at École L'Étoile in the heart of Paris.<br />
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Is this real? I'm still in utter disbelief that I get to do this. I just want to be there. Like right now. But there's still a few items left to do.<br />
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I have scheduled my student visa appointment at the French Consulate in DC for September 4th. I wish I could have made it sooner, but the French family and partner agency have to enroll me in the language school I chose and compile the rest of the paperwork I will need for my visa. After September 4th, it will take about 3 weeks for the visa application to be completely processed (and hopefully there won't be any obstacles with that). After it is complete, all that is left to do is obtain an apostille for my birth certificate, which is apparently used to register me with the local police once I get there, then buy my plane ticket! So as quickly as I can get a flight, I'll be on my way!<br />
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The fall trimester at École L'Étoile starts September 28th, and I really don't want to miss the beginning, so any prayers that somehow I am able to arrive in Paris by the weekend of the 26th at the latest would be very much appreciated. It won't be a big deal I don't think if I can't make it by then, but it would be nice. If a miracle happened and I could get there during that week or the weekend before, I'd have time to get acclimated to the RER and Metro systems, which would be wonderful since I'll also have to get the boy I will be looking after to and from school. It's going to be a lot to handle in a very short amount of time, but it'll be a challenging experience that I know will be a good one in the long run.<br />
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So that's it as far as updates go for now. I still have a lot to work out stateside, but I'm sure everything will work out the way it is supposed to. One more fun thing I want to announce is a new Instagram account I created just for my trip. I didn't want to make my private one public, so I made one that I will use to post lots and lots of photos during my time there. So follow me at @chelseatheaupair on Instagram! There won't be many posts until I'm there, but add me now so you don't miss anything when I am!Chelseahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/03103889430771817665noreply@blogger.com