The Debut

Hurricanes are burdensome. Paris is liberating. After days of delays and jaunts in Florida and New York, I have finally arrived in my lovely new home. The sky is blue, the architecture is breathtaking, and EVERYONE speaks French. Even the children, who I envy greatly, speak fluently. 

The group flight arriving late into Charles de Gaulle endured a smooth flight, and were immediately shuttled to one of our new campuses, the BU Paris Center, near the Eiffel Tower. A crash course orientation ensued, and we were sent to our homestays and dorms. My family was on vacation with their grandchildren at their home on the coast, naturally. So a good friend of my host mom babysat me for the weekend and taught me the ropes. My apartment is beautiful, as is my bedroom, and I have THREE bathrooms, all for different functions (One with sink, shower, toilet, etc.). It is quite comfortable. Josée, my babysitter, is the sweetest lady, and helped me more than I can express. After arriving at home,  she took me on a tour of the quartier past the Ecole Militaire and the Eiffel Tower. She convinced me that if I walked I would stay awake. My exhaustion, of course, convinced me otherwise. She bought me groceries and made me a delicious dinner before I fell into bed at 7 pm. Surprisingly, the most difficult part of my day was figuring out how to lock and unlock my front door. It is a delicate game of pull and push with a hundred year old plank of wood. Once I turn it to the unlocked position, it is impossible to remove the key. Hence, I have solicited unsuspecting neighbors with my best “I’m a bewildered American student” face. They, of course, oblige, comment that the door is très difficile, and prevail over the ancient French lock.

On Friday morning, we had another orientation session, during which we learned more details of the program. The day went well, and concluded with dinner and adventures near Jardin de Luxembourg. 

Saturday included the lovely tour of the gardens of Versailles. I am proud to say that I am more comfortable taking the metro and RER (commuter train) in Paris than I am in Boston. Bizarre, but true. I have visited the palace before, but never seen the gardens, which were expansive to say the least. The grounds included personal houses for mistresses, as well as a vineyard, farms full of livestock, and a pumpkin patch (no, there is no Halloween in France). There was a Disneyland-like hamlet/village which Marie Antoinette constructed for herself, and I couldn’t help thinking about how sad it is that someone so privileged would have to create a world of fantasy to escape the pain of her reality. I have encountered this sense of isolation in different places around the city, but of course, it chooses to masquerade as independence. Something I plan to discover...are the French lonely or independent? I will report back when I know.