When I am FaceTiming or emailing my family and friends, they ask me what I have done that day or what I am planning on doing, anticipating an answer full of wonder and excitement. But the truth is, often times my answer is something along the lines of "Oh, we just hung out today" or "I don't know, I'll probably watch some Netflix for awhile." I sometimes feel guilty when I give answers like that as if somehow I am wasting my time here in Paris and I need to constantly be doing interesting Parisian things. But the truth is, that's exhausting. I tried that for awhile, believe me. It was constantly go, go, go, go, go. The Eiffel Tower, Notre Dame, the Seine, the Arc de Triomph, get up early, stay out late. But after a few weeks, the "honeymoon" stage wears off and real life starts again. So for all of you people out there asking the million dollar question--What's it like to live in Pars?--I'm going to tell you. The boring, brutally honest truth of what it is like to actually live here.
Waking up. Yep. It sucks just as bad here as it did back in the States. I told myself that when I got all messed up with jet lag that I was going to become an early riser. What a perfect opportunity to shake my bad habit of wanting to sleep in until 11 every day, right? Yeah, no. That did not happen. Sometimes I get the pleasure of sleeping in til 10, but often times I find myself up earlier than that for class (because after all, this is STUDY abroad, not PLAY abroad). After convincing myself that it is absolutely necessary to leave my bed, I go downstairs to the generous breakfast supplied by my host family--cereal. I actually love cereal, so I'm not going to complain about that, but I am going to complain about the milk. I'm not a huge milk person so I really can't complain about the taste because I honestly can't tell a difference. BUT, I do not think that it is normal for milk to not need to be refrigerated. Or for it to be good until March of next year.That just can't be good. Vive le France.
Some mornings Lauren and I head out for a refreshing run through the gorgeous Bois de Boulogne. Other mornings we doggedly hike to the metro to get to a mind-numbingly boring class. And other mornings, I crawl back in to bed and watch some Netflix because I have nowhere to be and nowhere I'd rather be.
I really can't complain too much about class here. The workload is astoundingly light in comparison to classes back on campus. Plus, one class is simply walking through Paris--hands down the best class I will probably ever take. However, I am not going to pretend like I enjoy going to art or sitting through two hour religion lectures, and definitely not writing formal analyses on paintings that I really just don't care about (okay, that's only happened once but it was death). I thought it was bad doing homework in Provo, but it's ten times worse in Paris! I know that sounds so bratty of me, but in Provo, homework is such a normal thing. It's expected, and such a great excuse to get out of FHE. But when you live in Paris, you don't want to miss out on ice skating on the Champs Elysées because you had to do homwork! School is going to kill me back in Provo.Whether it's after class or just when I finally decide to leave my house, I always end up "in the city" for the afternoon. I technically live right outside of Paris (as do most of the people in our group) so we all try to make it into Paris during the day to hang out and complete our walks. That's what happens most often. Walks. Like I mentioned earlier, I have a class that is a Francophone culture class and we have a book full of "walks" that we have to complete to help us get to know the city. They're actually super helpful and most of them are fun too. We are required to blog them (or keep some kind of written record) so if you want to read about all of the walks, they're on the Bonjour Paris page of my blog. The walks only take an hour or two so afterwards we usually go for macarons or gelato or crepes or whatever we are feeling like that day.
On the days that I don't do walks (I've finished them so now that's most every day) or sometimes after a walk, it's just free reign of Paris. Sometimes that means strolling through the Christmas market on the Champs Elysées and wishing I had more money. Other times it means paying a visit to the Louvre because it's much more enjoyable when you're not there for class (there I go sounding ungrateful again). Now and then it means Angelina hot chocolate and people watching in the Tuileries. Or stopping by Shakespeare and Company and admiring their beautiful books. But whether it's climbing the Arc de Triomphe or simply souvenir shopping, it's always a good time--not because of where we are, but because of who we are with. When you live in a foreign country and are basically incapable of speaking to people, it's easy to get really close with those few people who do speak English (aka my study abroad group and the American nannies and English teachers from the YSA).
Usually tiredness sets in around 5 or 6 and because I don't live in Paris and can't easily stop home for quick nap, that means I'm heading home for the night. Most people my age don't understand that, because, for them, the day doesn't even start until 7 or 8. But participating in the "nightlife" sounds a lot more sketchy when I can't communicate with those around me. Plus, our walks book conveniently leaves out where to find the best clubs. Most days I am more than happy to go in for the night. That means I get to settle in with my Haribo and catch up with the rest of the world via Facebook. It's also nice because it is around this time that everyone back home is getting up and going for the day so I can reconnect to wifi and communicate with friends and family.Three nights a week (Sunday, Monday and Tuesday), Lauren and I eat dinner with our host family. Besides having an unhealthy obsession with preparing fish, my host mom is a pretty decent cook. (I've even started liking fish a tiny bit). Dinner is always a four course occasion. We start off with fruit or vegetables. Grapefruit or avocado, maybe. We then move on the the main course which is most of the time meat with a side of rice or vegetables. Then on to the Frenchiest of the courses-bread and cheese. I honestly love bread and cheese. It is one of the things I will miss most about France. Then on to dessert. At first they always had ice cream or something sweet for us, yet they always ate fruit. We made a comment one day that we wouldn't mind eating fruit for dessert too and I guess they took that as an invitation to stop buying ice cream and mousse. It's good though! Fruit is delicious here! Although I could do without seeds in my grapes. But oh well, I probably need to eat fruit instead of sugary sweets to balance out the junk eat during the day!
A few weeks ago, our host family decided they were only going to speak French at dinner to help us progress with our own French. That made dinner a little bit less pleasurable. As if they didn't think we were stupid enough by not being able to explain why the drinking age in America is 21, we're expected to do so in French. Yeah, dinners have gotten a lot quieter lately.On the days that we don't eat with our host family, Lauren and I will sometimes make pasta or else run across the street to the small market and buy fresh fruit. And then there are those days when that bag of Haribo is going to have to do. (I promise I eat more than enough here). And sometimes there are actually nights when we don't get exhausted and decide to go out together and grab dinner together.
After dinner it's time to crack down on that homwork....or more often, time to crack down on Netflix because that is obviously the better choice. And then even though I tell myself every day that I am going to go to bed early, it's usually midnight or later when I finally put away my computer and get some sleep! And then the next day it starts all over again.
So there you have it, in an obnoxiously long blog post, that is what it is like to live in Paris. Not as glamorous as you think, but definitely nothing to complain about! Now if you'll excuse me, I've got to
