Luckily, more or less since being here, I have possessed a veritable "Carte Blanche," which simply means "Having free rein to choose whatever course of action you want," which is at once exhilarating and terrifying. However, with this "carte blanche" comes the endless uncertainty whether the grand plans you make will ever come to fruition- Madison Bullard, who is studying in Paris with me, can attest to the fact that my "grand-plan-making success rate" is about 40-55%, meaning that for some reason, Paris does not give up its special moments easily, even as I continue to look so fervently! However, if anyone has ever read of heard of "Paris to the Moon," a series of essays concerning daily life in Paris by Adam Gopnik, a temporary ex-pat himself, you will understand that part of the infuriating charm of this city is that once something finally works out, the wonder of the moment is all the more potent, as you have managed to weave your way through the labyrinth of French bureaucracy and the million other, nagging, infinitesimal details, arriving suddenly- ah! at that temporary space of perfection.
I have now had the opportunity to live here as "une invitee" (a guest) for a little over one month now, with this month composed of days that have been mind-blowingly unforgettable, like the day we biked through the gardens of Versailles as a soft rain fell and scared away all tourists but us- or utterly frustrating, like the night the metro stopped suddenly, without reason, and ordered everyone off, and I proceeded to walk all the way home (2 hours total) down the Champs-Elysees with a random Swiss girl who bravely asserted that she would help me to avoid being "taken." Later, she thanked me, calling me her "night street stranger." The extremity of these highs and lows can be compared to the stark contrast between the neighborhoods that pepper the city landscape- one street can be utterly impoverished, while the very next street over is as posh and luxurious as you can possibly imagine.
One thing I know for certain: You must be prepared for anything and everything while making your way through a city as paradoxical, as lovely, and as curious as Paris.
Also during this colorful, adventurous month, I have been lucky enough to traverse my way from one homeland to another, and back again- that is to say, I have spent a weekend in Ireland, an important place in my family history (well, who isn't Irish these days?). I believe that I am roughly 1/4 Irish and 1/4 French, and thus, throughout this trip, I was imbued with a wonderful feeling of connection to these two radically different, equally important, places.
We spent most of our time in Dublin, although we did have the chance to tour the surrounding countryside, such as the Wicklow Mountains, the ancient town of Glendalough, Glenmacness Waterfall, and Guiness Lake (that's right, a lake that the Guiness Family purposefully constructed to resemble an enormous pint of Guiness-- this is not a joke!).
I can honestly say that this Irish weekend ranks as one of the best I've had, and Dublin now counts as one of my very favorite cities in this wide world.
Reasons for the Wonder, Excitement, and Perfection of Dublin (or Ireland in general):
1. Our taxi driver fulfilled every hope I've ever had for my first conversation in Ireland- he was an elderly gentleman, who was the oldest of 17 children (his aunt had 21 children, even more-- ?!!?), he had worked on the family farm his entire life, he asked us how Americans viewed their grandparents since he was one himself (of course, grandparents are the very best), and he would take a dramatic pause at the beginning of every sentence-- here is an example:
Taxi Driver: "Well, me uncle........" (pause of 45 seconds to 1 minute)
Us: whispering nervously, "Do you think he forgot that he was saying something??"
Taxi Driver: exclaiming suddenly, while making a sharp right turn, "He was bastard, he was!!!!!!" (shouting)
Us: "Oh my."
2. The Book of Kells- as an art historian, I was SO excited to see this (for those of you who do not know, it is a medieval illustrated manuscript that is one of the most important texts in the Western world-- doesn't that sound invigorating??). Unfortunately, my travel buds, Erin and Natalie, were not as interested as I, and promised that it was ok with them if I went to see it by myself- they would wait outside. Needless to say, I forgot how much time had passed, and by the time I emerged, 45 minutes later, Erin exclaimed, "I do not understand- how does it take someone THAT long to look at one book?!?!?" Oh, you have no idea.
I promised to buy them some hot chocolate... or a Guiness.... after that. ha.
3. PUB LIFE. (a given.)
We agreed to try to see every pub in my guide book, and although that did not happen (of course), we managed to have the time of our lives at Temple Bar, due to the fact that there was live music (which included an interesting mix of both Irish ballads and folk songs, along with puzzling interludes of songs like "Sweet Home Alabama," and various Red Hot Chili Peppers classics...) Also, we managed to make some delightful Irish friends, all of whom were well over 40, but who cheered when I ordered my first pint of Guiness, adored New York accents, spoke Gaelic fluently, could not understand the concept of barbecue sandwiches, and called us all "little chicken" as a term of endearment.
Perfection.
4. Our tour of the Irish countryside was unforgettable. Exhilarating. Glorious. Our tour guide was named "Eamonn," and please forgive me for saying this, but he really did resemble a leprechaun, which was not helped by the fact that he proceeded to sing Gaelic folk songs to us as we rolled through the green hills in a bright red van, while warning us that none of his music was for sale on Itunes.
5. Fish and Chips. Or all Irish food, really. You know how we have Southern Comfort food? Well, Irish food is akin to this, as it never ceases to make you feel warm, full, and happy. We purchased two orders of Fish and Chips, which were all wrapped in separate warm, greasy packets that weighed probably 8 pounds total, no exaggeration. We ate what we could in the park next to the Church of St. Patrick and I have never laughed so hard in my life, and I can't even really remember why... perhaps because I was digesting the most grease I've ever encountered and laughing is the only way to deal with that? Yes, that's a good guess.
6. Gaelic Football Championship. Yes, that is correct- unbeknownst to us, we had chosen one of the biggest weekends of the whole year for Ireland- that of the Gaelic football tournament, in which teams from all over the country come to Dublin to compete, and of course, at the end of the day, flock to every pub in the city. Saturday night was the night that determined which teams were the two finalists, and it just so happens that the pub we chose (called The Bleeding Horse) was the hotspot for all the other teams who were there to watch the game and drink and be merry. And, ever so appropriately, we ended up meeting and spending the entire evening with, the lovely Gaelic football team of Dunbar. We learned a good amount of slang, such as: "It's jammers." = "It's crowded." and "Are you takin' a hand?" = "Are you kidding?"
Never before were so many pints of Guinness consumed. Never before were so many laughs had. Never before have I ever imitated an Irish accent better. Never before has someone danced in a club with a backpack on (that was definitely me, I'll claim it). Never will our last night in Dublin be forgotten!
Scott, Natalie, and Me, in Front of Guinness Lake! (does it look like a giant pint??)
And so concludes my illumination of the wonders of Ireland. I hope this has not distracted you too much from the wonders of Paris and France as well, however. How glamorous it was to return to this place! As I wrap up this blog post, I will leave you all with a few highlights of Paris as well, just for good measure:
-Attended a jazz concert with Madison, featuring Paul Bley, the ancient yet illustrious leader of the free jazz movement, who could barely walk but could play like nobody's business, finishing almost every other song by banging his hand against the inside of the grand piano for no apparent reason- to the great dismay of the sound technician, to our great delight and entertainment.
-I have finally succeeded in finding a Ferris Wheel in Paris, from which I am able to see the entire city!
-Had a four-hour long dinner at the apartment of my friend Andrew, with his host dad, a wonderfully chic man named Frederick (he goes by "Fred"), where we at at his coffee table, while sitting on cushions, discussing politics, art, fashion, family, culture, etc etc all in French, while sharing a bottle of wine.
-Saw Monet's enormous water lily canvases at the Musee L'Orangerie, where I, along with friends, amused ourselves by running around the room until the colors blurred together and it felt almost like you were swimming in them. (the guards were not amused- everyone else was!)
I am feeling more and more at home here, there is no doubt. French is flowing more easily and I am not eating as many crepes/croissants (which is a good thing, trust me). I understand the nature of city life and am beginning to carve out my own path amidst the masses. I miss home, but I've never been more present or mindful, and I have so many people to thank for that. My search for all things french continues, and I hope that it will not end any time soon- let me tell you, it sure is a lot of fun, being a temporary ex-pat! Thank you for reading, a bientot, tout le monde! (See you soon, everyone!)
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