Neighborhood Shots @ Dusk

These are just some pictures I took the other day of places around the 5th arrondissement where I live, in the Latin Quartier

Back, Back Again...

Oh! Hello, there! This blog still exists!! Isn’t that one of those crazy things about the internet? Even when you give it the cold shoulder it just never gets the message. So, I give in... a month and a half later here comes the continuation of: Ariella, (barely) surviving in Paris.

Hi friends, sorry this has been so long. Rather than #studyabroadproblems taking me all around europe and back every weekend, making me too busy to update this, I'm having #studyingreallyhard problems in which I get to know the ins and outs of the Sciences Po library really well and fail to update the blog. So sorry to break any romantic ideas you at home might have of me, galavanting around Europe, for I have been working much harder than I can remember working ever (maybe since college apps season @Winsor). Friends at CC, the block plan is a godsend let me tell you. Either that, or I’ve lost my ability to function in any other system.

I think whats killing me is that I’m still reliant on strategies that pull me through final papers and exams at CC: a good ol’ fashioned all-nighter. At CC, you pull one or two, block ends and boom! Pat on the shoulder, sleep 13 hours, ski, get wasted and you’re back on track with only a fuzzy memory of traumatic 3 am redbulls. Here, I try the same method and end up with very, very different results. I’ll stay up all night, write a paper until 5 am, sleep until 8, get up and edit the paper, turn it in at noon and... GO TO POWELL!! Naht. I go to work, come home at 8, make dinner, invariably fall asleep until 11, and then get up again to pull another all-nighter for the next giant assignment due the next day at noon. And there’s always a next one... Yeesh. Although the work is super interesting, it has definitely been a little rough over here in that respect. The point of all of this complaining, and there is a point, is threefold. (At sciences po, everything is always “threefold”) 

1. Feel sorry for me, and excuse my lack of blogging. Please.
2. Be impressed, very impressed in my oh-so-difficult life as a suffering student in Paree. 
3. Send chocolate. Or as we say in france, chocolat. 

Now moving on from this preamble, I think I’ll finally come clean on my promise to talk about nannying and tutoring here in Paris. 

Ahem, so once upon time, long long ago... I landed in Paris. Sleepy, sweaty, and unfashionable. Upon my arrival in August, I immediately noticed some startling inadequacies in my wardrobe. For example, not only did I not own a black blazer for going out, I failed to find either a tan, blue, or green one in the depths of my closet for going to school in — I could hardly believe there existed such an unforgivable hole in my wardrobe! It was an absolute disaster! If I wanted to blend in with the oh-so-chic Parisian students at Sciences Po, well, I’d definitely need to go blazer shopping (5 blazer minimum, its a must). And shoe shopping, and cool-leather-bag shopping, and fun necklace shopping and crazy-tights shopping and... you get the idea. I came to paris, took off my patagonia, hit the Champs Elysée, and ran my bank account into the ground. Being extremely dedicated to looking good, and being ever so resourceful as I am, I decided to look for a job as a nanny in Paris in order to support a more lavish lifestyle. (NOTE: Although you all know me for the self-absorbed, style-obessesed chick* that I am, I also wanted a little extra summin summin in ma poche for travels, apartment decorations and delicious dinners out) To earn said “extra dime”, I saw nannying as the obvious choice for not only is it the one job I am actually well-qualified for, it also is a job with very flexible hours that could match my odd student schedule.

So, within my first few weeks here I found an agency online, booked an interview and got hired! This, my dear mother, is one of the many things I chose to do instead of search for an apartment in my first weeks in Paris... But at least I was getting something done, right? Anyways, the company I now work for is called (drum roll please) : Baby-Speaking. The one, and only, joke that I prepared for this entry (and that I invariably use in conversation whenever this comes up) is this, “Isn’t that creepy? Baby-Speaking? It’s like the dog whisperer, except for babies!” (this is about when I put on my awesome combination zombie/robot voice and say) “I speak to de babiez.” It usually gets a good laugh. So yes, I am a “baby-speaker” here in Paris — d’oesn’t get much more sophisticated than that. 

Essentially, Baby-Speaking put me in touch with families looking for native english speakers to work with their kids’ to help them develop their english skills. I applied for a number of jobs and now work with four different families a week. The first family I work with as a nanny (they are awesome, and the ones who gave me the Bob Dylan ticket) for 5 hours a week on monday and tuesday afternoons with their 10 year old boy, Neal, and 7 year old girl Julieanne. From them I’ve gotten a thorough education in practically every single pokemon and yugiyo card in existence, not to mention the detailed rules of battle for these cards, and a recap on all the plots and characters in the Star Wars series. The second and third families I work with are on Wednesdays for an hour and half each, doing english tutoring. One is with an 8 year old boy, Adrien, who’s really bright and fun, and the other is a 7 year old girl and her 3 year old sister, Louise-Marie and Clotilde - we do a lot of drawing and singing (really starting to hate “heads, shoulders, knees and toes”). Finally, I tutor two boys - ages 5, Matthieu, and 7, Adrien - every friday afternoon. They are not the biggest fans of english, so this one is not always a walk in the park but its not too bad. 

The strange thing is, I have next to no experience tutoring. Assuming that the families realized this when they hired me, I figured that I would be there to do homework help or something similar. Quel surprise when I walked into my first session with Adrien and Matthieu and they just looked at me expectantly, each with a brand new cahier in front of them. “What now, teacher?” (their faces suggested this, they most definitely do not speak that much english...) Uh. Pardonnez-moi? Overcoming a moment of slight panic, I proceeded to quiz them on colors, numbers and animals - vocabulary they learned in school - until the time ran out. However as the lessons have gone on, and I’ve started working with more families, I have taken on the tasks of a full-on tutor. I make simple lesson plans as well as little weekly quizzes for the kids. It’s definitely more work than I expected, but it’s also turning out to be really rewarding, and totally worth the pay. Through tutoring for Baby-Speaking, I found my way into a niche of Parisian society that I never thought I’d gain access to! I pick some of my kids up from school so learn about the french school system (they don't get out until 4:30!), have made friends with other local nannies, and learn about french family life. Something that never fails to impress me is how many sweets the kids eat as after school snacks!! Kinder bars, petit ecoliers, and no limit! None! SO. MUCH. CHOCOLATE. I just sit and drool as they stuff their faces, and it’s not unique to any one family, all of them do it. Strange. Anyways, it’s cool to have access to family life,  and kid-culture in Paris, particularly since it’s very easy to stay isolated in a student, study-abroad community here.

That’s all I have to say about that...probably it was not a very interesting update for those looking for more juicy tidbits about my oh so wild and crazy life abroad, but it is one that is very relevant to my day to day experience here. School, work, learning, teaching, and above all mastering the metro system as I ride all around the city (a place starting to feel a whole lots more like MY city). 

More coming soon, hope all is well on the home front. 

Bisous,

Ariella

* See star above: in french, a chick is a “mouffe” and a guy or dude, is a “mec” C’est l’argot hyper-cool, d’accordddd?

Perks of Being a Nanny

Today started off rough. Ever have one of those nights where you talk yourself into how serious and hardworking you’re going to be, set up a good “study station”, prepare some good “study tunes,” and place “study snacks” in arms reach, only to wake up at 4 am fully clothed, lying on your bed with all of the lights on? Well. This was one of those nights. 

I had my first exposé today, a graded oral presentation that is an essential part of the Sciences Po methodology, and is required in most classes. Determined to do well, I thought I would a) refuse to think about it all weekend, and b) stay up really, really late on Sunday and crank it out. I had full faith in this strategy. My week had been super busy and my weekend was full and fun (shopping, dinner parties, cooking, doing my laundry - which is taking over 48 hours to dry and is currently draped over every surface in my apartment generating a lovely mold-like smell... but that is a tale for another time), I just did not want to think about any work. So, I didn’t! The power of positive thinking is well and alive my friends. 

Back to the point: my “cat-nap” had failed and I was in a scramble. I had a very disorienting morning (quick summary: woke up at 6 am, ate breakfast and practically died of exhaustion, went back to sleep until 9, panicked, went to school), but long-story-short the exposé went fine. 

For parties interested in my academic life here, I’ll say a word or two about this class, the exposé, etc. This class is entitled “Global Public Goods,” and is an international relations class that analyzes both the characteristics of global issues (ex. climate change, peace and security, etc.) and how the international community can and/or conceivably will cooperate effectively to make progress on worldwide problems. It’s very interesting for me because I really love studying international conflict resolution (as you can probably tell if you look back at the classes I’m taking, I think I put those in one of the old posts), but I’ve never quite considered the theory behind “global cooperation” before. My exposé today was on Global Public Health and it was done with a group.  We lead the class in discussion and debate for the whole of the two hour class, made a long powerpoint, fun fun, went well, etc.

The idea behind all of this added information is to explain how my day was stressful, and energy-consuming. Since I can’t seem to tell a short story (not an new trait for those who know me), I’m going to skip talking about how and why I’m a nanny and tutor here, but I am. Promise, promise I will fill in the details tomorrow.  Essentially I am working for a nanny agency here that puts me in touch with families looking for native-English speaking nannies and tutors. It’s a nice way to make an extra buck in this town. More on this later. 

Sidenote: One of the weird things about having a blog, is that now my random thoughts have a potential “audience,” so I immediately edit them in my mind. Therefore, I know that I will write about nannying tomorrow or the next day because I have some pre-prepared jokes, or as we professionals say, I’m working on some material. Blogs do strange things to you.

On to my story. I was having a pretty shit day, felt like I hadn’t slept, worked all day, had an hour to rest until I went to go nanny for these kids from 4:30-7. The kids are great so it was fine, I was just exhausted and couldn’t wait to go home and crash. However, I go to drop off my kids (as I’ve come to think of them) and their mother says to me, “My husband and I, we have a serious problem.” Seeing as how they the only context I know them is is my employment, I panicked and assumed the worst. Did I break something? Did I say something wrong? Did they find out that I’m too lazy to discipline the kids when they stand on the kitchen counter? But the mother simply smiled at me and explained that her husband had an extra ticket to the Bob Dylan concert that night, and they couldn’t find anyone who wanted to go with them. Would I like the ticket? I was dumbfounded. Here was this family I had just started working with two weeks before, who didn’t really know me at all, offering me a ticket (for free!) to a Bob Dylan concert!? I wavered for a second, thought back to how I’d been dreaming of my bed all day... and then I realized that I was being a huge idiot and said, “Oui merci!” (although the conversation was in english... i just think it sounds better there in french). 

So I went to a Bob Dylan concert, for free, in Paris, by myself, on the spur of the moment. I didn’t bring a camera, or I’d post a picture of 70 year old Bob in his cowboy hat crooning away... “like a rolling stone...” It was unbelievable. It pulled me out of my bad mood, made me forget all my deadlines, and pumped a little ol' time folk into my body and soul. I cannot think of anything better than that to turn one of those no-good-terrible days around.

That’s all for now. Just a short story I wanted to share on something out of the ordinary, something deserving of a little reflection. I have no cute “wrap up” or resounding message to send you home with today, kids. Try out being a nanny and you just might meet Bob Dylan. How’s that?

Apartment Photos

First dinner party! 

My proudest decorative pieces: wooden hippos from a sunday market in the 15th 

Kitchen (look at the left corner, that beautiful girl is my avant-garde dishwasher Darling (it literally says "Oh Darling")

Living room as seen from the kitchen

I caught a Molly in my bedroom!

Full view of living room

Me in apt, matching the couch

Figure it out: Paris Edition

There are some moments that can make up for a week’s worth of sweat, tears, and terrible french. This is one of them. I’m sitting in the last light of the day at the kitchen table of my apartment, listening to music and the oh-so-glorious hum of my “frigo” (fridge), with a window open behind me letting in a crisp fall breeze. I’m somewhat effectively ignoring the fact that my washing machine doesn’t work, my hot water lasts for five minute tops, and I have mountains of homework to do. 

It’s these little “super-sympa” moments that I need to seize — this is something Paris is teaching me. There are so many times when I find myself wanting to scream with frustration at the inefficiency you can find everywhere here — in the bank, in the grocery store, in the university’s administration. The moments that are not spent waiting in an hour long line for some obscure paperwork, not walking around the library searching endlessly for a free table, not spent frustrated or struggling to speak about electricity voltages in french— these are my moments, when I can take a breath, look around me, and say “holy shit.” 

I can feel myself slowly falling in love with this city. Yes - I love the macaroons, I love the cute french cafés, and I love how indulging in massive amounts of bread, cheese and wine is practically a requirement of living here. But these things I learned to love in week one, before I had even ventured into the “red tape” surrounding Paris. This long-overdue blog entry is about how I’m learning to love the real Paris, red tape and all.

To catch anyone up who maybe checks this ancient blog, I’ll summarize my situation:

Sciences Po helps exchange students find temporary housing at this dorm-like facility in the south of the city entitled, “Cité Internationale Universitaire de Paris.” Then, these said exchange students have 5 weeks to secure further housing. I was forewarned by family, friends, and Sciences Po that finding affordable housing in Paris could be a nightmare. Therefore, I took the most logical path and decided to wait about 3.5 weeks until I seriously started looking... I was busy, you know, acclimating, making friends. The only weird thing is that the friends I made and myself ended up being, literally, the only people left without any housing at the end of our term in Cité. Inexplicable coincidence. 

So zoom forward to me, four days before I lose my dorm housing - I’m in a panic, have sent out emails and called a number of people and agencies, and left messages in terrible french full of pauses and “uhh”s. Then, magically, I find an extremely cute apartment in the 5th quarter, only a 10 minute metro from my school. It’s perfect! I’ll take it! I tell the agency. Small problem - I need to get a “caution bancaire”, essentially have a chunk of money blocked or inaccessible in the bank for the duration of the time that I’m in the apartment just in case I decide to wreck the place and run away to India. It’s the proprietors precaution against foreign renters who can only find a foreign guarantor - as I think we all learned from DSK, there is certainly no extradition between France and the US, so having an American guarantor don’t really mean shit. 

Ok, I tell myself, I will just get an appointment at the bank! No big. Turns out, the next available appointment was in a week and a half. I lost my housing that Friday. I beg, and plead, and try to make it look like I’m about to cry, and get an appointment for the following Wednesday. I’m going to stop here because there are too many unimportant details (not to mention unpleasant conversations with bank people that I don’t care to remember). In summary, I had to wait a week for a bank transfer to come through - thanks to a ridiculous 48 hour rule in France, and GWB’s beloved Patriot act on the American side, keeping me safe from terrorism as a homeless person on the streets of Paris. Numerous appointments at the bank were made and broken, tears were shed, hotels got involved, and finally, the following Wednesday after I lost housing, the money came through, and I moved in on Thursday. Phew.

While my electricity shut off on me yesterday so all my food went bad, while the owner didn’t leave any bowls and other necessary kitchen utensils, and while the washing machine doesn’t work, I LOVE my apartment. It’s cute, funky (ill try to post a picture of my dishwasher, or as I call her my roommate “Darling”), and it’s all mine. I’ve only ever lived in dorms before and it has never felt like this. I even have a color scheme picked out - purple and green (you have to see it to get it, but it really is working out quite nicely). 

Right before I came home today to wait for the electricity guy, I was having lunch with a friend from class and I happened to mention that I spent a semester in India. He was dumbfounded, as is pretty much everyone else I tell here. First they'll pepper me with questions — how I could possibly survive in a homestay where no english was spoken, did I feel safe, did I learn the language, etc. — and then usually they start in with the compliments and awe — that’s so amazing, I could never do that, etc. 

I can only laugh. You can tell me its always 20/20 in hindsight, but Paris is giving Varanasi a run for its money. Trying to set up a life here is about ten times more daunting to me than joining a group of study abroad students, with a planned, daily itinerary, anywhere in the world. Sometimes I resent having chosen an independent program like this one. I’ll find myself missing the comfort and freedom that a organized, small group program gives you. In India having train tickets handed to me, restaurants picked out, budgets set... only now can I truly see what a luxury that was. Despite all of this, and despite how most of this post has been me complaining about life here, I think I know why I’ve stuck it out this far and why I’ll continue to do so.

Because when I do get through all of the red tape: when I successfully navigate a bank transfer, when I get my electricity turned back on, when I argue about my phone bill in the Orange store  — in french, all of this — the feeling of accomplishment is higher than anything I’ve ever experienced. When Colorado College doesn’t send me a nice layout of meal plans and housing options, and I have to strike out into a world foreign to me in more ways than one, and I figure it out? It’s fucking awesome. 

Maybe this post should be titled - “Sheltered College Student Experiences Real Life for First Time.” And maybe if I sat down to write this entry at any other time, not right after the electricity guy walked out my door, I’d be thinking about some other challenge I have yet to mount and feeling low. But for right now, I feel great. I feel independent, I feel competent, and I feel like I’ll go turn Darling on and clean out my smelly fridge now. In closing, I think I’m starting to truly love Paris, for being the place where I started to figure it all out. 

First Week of School

Rue St-Guillaume, Street to main buildings

The bookstore "La librarie" and the Library "La bibliotheque" (a bit confusing!)

                         

Main Building, easy identifiable by the hordes of students milling around outside of it at all hours

Unfairly just around the corner from school, so I can drool over 600 euro dresses daily.

Les Deux Magots, famous café

A chocolate shoe I saw today! I couldn't help but put this up...

Bonjour tout le monde,


In case it is of interest to all of you out there, I'm going to talk a little bit about my first week of classes at Sciences Po. Technically it's already one day into week two, but my Monday class was cancelled (which I didn't remember until I was sitting alone in an empty classroom at 12:30...) so I have only had each class once so far! Unlike the glorious Colorado College, where 9-12 is reserved for all things academic, my classes here happen at all times of the day. The noon ones, I enjoy, the 7:15-9:15 PM ones, I do not. Luckily, I made sure not to schedule any before 10:15 AM. Waking up early has never been my strong suit.


Before I came to Sciences Po I assumed that the campus, being in the heart of the 6me, or 6th district of the city, would be similar to NYU – somewhat integrated into the city, but dominating of a two block radius at the least. I could not have been more wrong. Sciences Po is fairly easy to miss. The buildings are spread out throughout a very posh, commercial district. I pass Ralph Lauren and Armani every morning, as well as the clients sitting and smoking outside of their respective cafés, on my way to class. The main Sciences Po building has a modest sign above the door, as do the library and student bookstore. However, the other buildings don't even go so far. One just has to follow the map, walk into the courtyard and look for lots of fashionable students smoking and speaking a variety of european languages. It's nice, in a way, to feel as though you are part of the city. Rushing down the street past the famous café Les Deux Magots, I pass so many tourists stumbling along with their heads in a map. For the first time, I am not one of them. In fact, I'm often late for class on Rue des Saint-Pères, so I feel perfectly legitimate when I shout out, "PARDON MESDAMES!"



Speaking of class, this is what I am taking this semester. Apparently you're allowed to take 4-6 classes, however, I either didn't quite understand this or was just overexcited and signed up for all 6 without really thinking. One class at a time, six classes at a time, what's the difference? (I will soon find out...) Also, I chose to obtain the French/English certificate. In order to do so I have to follow some regulations about my classes, including that at least 40% of my classes have to be in french. This semester I'm taking the minimum of two in french, but I hope to take 3-4 in french second semester. 


My classes are:


1. Structures and Crises in the Middle East (Lecture accompanied by a conference, each once a week)
2. Global Public Goods (23 person elective)
3. Guerre et Paix dans le Village Global ("War and Peace in the Global Village," elective)
4. Democratic Change and Authoritarian Resilience in North Africa (elective, a comparative politics class on Morocco, Tunisia and Algeria)
5. Redefining the International Community: From Humanitarian Intervention to a Responsibility to Protect (elective)
6. Francais, Niveau 3 (french language class, level 3)


There was the option of also taking seminar style classes, which have usually 40-50 students, but I decided to stick with electives because I found the subjects more interesting, and figured the small class sizes would be nicer, more reminiscent of CC. Oh and I also signed up for "yoga debutant" (beginner's yoga – missing CorePower, clearly).  That's all for now, going to put up some photos and go to sleep. And for next time, I think I might write about the food here. This will naturally require some field research on my part... I haven't been to Lauderée yet!


Grand bisous, ("big kiss")


Ariella

My room at Cité Universitaire

Seine

Only picture of me in Paris so far... 

Musée D'Orsay

Favorite Graffiti, in le Marais

Gordie comes to Paris!!

Busy, busy Paris

Beautiful City Details

Apartments

Bonjour de Paris!

Hello everyone!

I've finally started a blog! While I debated many wonderful and clever titles, I decided to go for simple over chic, taking a cue from a German friend here who was absolutely confounded why I wouldn't just call my blog "paris" or "myblog"– as the German students here are teaching me, there is rarely a need for frivolity.  Thus, I invite you to read my blog "Ariella in Paris" or "Une Anneé a Paris" throughout this school year as I study at Sciences Po in Paris, France. While I'm writing this blog for family and friends, (and anyone who stalks me on facebook) I'm also sending it to Colorado College's Study Abroad advisor, Heather Browne. She wants to put it on to CC's website in hopes that prospective students, or current CC students considering this program, will be able to learn a little bit more about it.  Therefore, I will start by introducing myself, and the exchange program at Sciences Po (bear with me, mom).

I am a 20 year old (soon to be 21 year old!) Junior at Colorado College, majoring in Political Science, with a concentration in International Relations, and minoring in French. I actually started at CC a semester late, choosing to do the "Winter Start" option, and studied abroad in Varanasi, India for Fall of 2009.  If it isn't obvious, I love to travel. Even though I was behind in credits, I knew that I wanted to study abroad in my Junior year, and since I have a strong background in french I decided to look at french language programs. Early on, the exchange at Sciences Po caught my attention. I realized that I didn't want to join a group of American students studying abroad - I'd already done that in India, and I thought that I could handle something more challenging, more independent this time around, and Sciences Po is definitely that. So I applied, interviewed, was accepted, and now am currently sitting on my bed in a dorm in Paris with a student ID card from Sciences Po! Whew!

A little bit about why I chose Sciences Po for my year abroad: it is a much larger university than Colorado College, and therefore offers not only more classes, but classes in much more specific areas of study. For example, I'm taking a class this semester called "Redefining the International Community: From Humanitarian Intervention to the Responsibility to Protect." The class looks into the reasoning behind (be it financial, moral, political) and reality of foreign intervention, and the ways in which it can hurt or hinder a state in need. This is exactly what I am interested in. I want to work on with an international organization, specifically in conflict resolution - deciding what constitutes a "need" for foreign assistance, how best to address these "needs," when it is legally and/or morally allowed to intervene with force in another nation-state. Therefore, this class is exactly what I'm interested in! This is just one example of class at Sciences Po that a small college like Colorado College cannot offer. Don't get me wrong, I love CC and I have continually been impressed with the professors and classes offered in the Political Sciences department, but part of the trade off of going to a wonderful, intimate college is having limited class options. By going to Sciences Po for a year, I think I'm managing to get the best of both worlds.

Okay, so onto Paris! I'm loving it here so far! It's been almost three weeks in, and I'm starting to feel fairly comfortable in the city. I chose to come to Paris a few weeks early in order to attend Sciences Po's welcome program – an orientation program in which you learn about the "methodologie" (which I'll explain in a later post) and you get a french "buddy" to show you around, assist you in setting up a bank account, etc.  I think it was well worth it. While the methodologie classes were a bit dull, I enjoyed having a few weeks to settle into my temporary room at the Cité Universitaire and get to know some of the other exchange students.  And now I've had a week's worth of classes! But I'll get into that another day, I think this post has been long enough. I've got to keep some level of suspense to get you all to come back, right? Now I'll try to figure out how to put up pictures (I feel very inept at all of this...)

A bientot! (translates to "until soon")

Ariella