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?