Bonjour tout le monde! And happy Monday. I think I have successfully survived my first week in Paris. I have just done SO much in the last few days that it has all become a bit of a blur. I have seen some of the sights, been thoroughly oriented by my study abroad program, and am going to start my first classes à l’Institut Catholique, la Catho, today!

Though I have only spent one week in the beautiful country of France, I have learned so much. And I have found certain stereotypes about France to be (partly) true and thought I would share some of my observations with you:

Bread. There is always bread. It can be found in restaurants, in stores, and in bakeries on almost every other street corner. And I, personally, do not lack for bread. At the home of the Guerriers, my host family, we eat baguettes every day. However, on my first morning living with the Guerriers, and my third morning in Paris, I went downstairs for breakfast and upon peering into the basket usually filled with bread, found it empty! It was quite shocking. Yet, I did not have long to ponder the situation because a minute later I heard the front door open and Jacques, my host father, bustled into the kitchen with three baguettes under his arm exclaiming, “J’ai acheté du pain chez le boulanger et c’est fraîche et chaud!” [I bought bread at the bakery and it’s fresh and warm] and indeed it was. Further, young Parisian women really do wear outfits composed entirely of black clothing. It is quite the phenomenon. Finally, faire la bise, the action of kissing someone on each cheek either in greeting or parting, is super common. I was not quite sure what to expect, but trust me, it happens everywhere! People go for it in restaurants, museums, cafés, and the middle of crosswalks. I’m quite taken with this greeting, so if you see me when I return to the states, be prepared!

And now, it is time to recount the “Mon dieu! Je suis vraiment à Paris moments.”
[OMG, I’m really in Paris moments]:

 On my first night in Paris, a group of us had gone to dinner and were trying to return to the hotel from the resto via the metro. Okay, so the metro is pretty easy to navigate, but at each metro stop there are multiple exits or sorties that one can use to access the street. Meaning that even if you take the correct line in the correct direction, but happen to take the wrong sortie, it is easy to become turned around above-ground and this is exactly what happened to us. We were walking up the stairs of the exit we had picked, giving each other meaningful looks as we realized it was not the correct choice, when suddenly, the Bastille, in all its lit-up splendor, rose above us illuminating the night sky. Being lost no longer seemed so serious.

On my second night in Paris, I ate waffles at the Louvre. That pretty much sums up the experience. However, the beauty of the situation is that I could look at a map on my phone that told me the Louvre was four minutes away, grab a delicious snack from a mall along the way, and then be there sitting on the edge of a fountain that reflected an image of the historic palace and the Pyramid. Mind blowing.

There are musicians who dwell in the metro. Granted, there are also flower salesmen, and newspaper stands, but those do not factor into this story. One afternoon, I was following my regular route through the underground tunnels trying to reach Line Four when strains of a familiar song reached my ear. A man was singing the classic French chanson [song] Je l’aime à mourir’ by Francis Cabrel and I began to hum along because the tune is quite infectious. Right when the performer reached the chorus, two women in front of me exuberantly joined in to sing the refrain. It was perfect.

So that partially sums up my first week. These might help to sum it up as well: