FAUX.

(Faux: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UuqH9JG66mc)

        I just do not understand. Speaking French is a heart-racing, blood pumping, and adventure-creating experience here in Paris. I love everything about it. My heart races and I feel so thrilled! I have made friends with French speakers; I can understand what they are saying and now I can even somewhat respond (sloppily). My professor and I only speak in French to each other, while my classmates and I hold fully functioning conversations in “frenglish” (French-English). However, I feel so frustrated in my class. I get my work and exams passed back to me with the professor saying, “c’est une bonne note” (which means, “this is a good grade”) but when I see it I am not content. The grading system is very different here. What is usually a B in the U.S. is practically failing here. It is just so frustrating it breaks my heart! In real life situations that I have encountered here I have been able to communicate with real French speakers and that makes me feel so proud of myself and accomplished. It is obvious to see that I have progressed so much in my language acquisition.  However, when I go to class and get my work back I see red markings everywhere from all sorts of little mistakes that I have made. I was not forced to take this language, I chose it, I fell in love with it, but when I see so many mistakes on things that I felt so good about, I feel like I have fallen in love with something that will never love me back. The thing about uncontrollably falling in love is that I cannot give up on it even if I wanted to. I am just going to have to work harder.

        If that is the only thing that upsets me while I am here, then I think I am going to be OK. Ha-ha! Other than that downer, life is still beautiful here. You are all probably getting bored with my enchantment of Paris, or jealous . I just cannot help it. This past weekend was lovely. I hung out by the “Paris plage,” which literally translates to “Paris beach” and that is exactly what it is. Every year Paris creates a fake beach by the Seine River. There is sand, lawn chairs, umbrellas, booths that sell ice cream, drinks and other boardwalk/ beach-like things and everyone is lounging around in their swimsuits tanning, playing with the sand or in the sprinkler. It has been very hot here this past week, so it has been packed with people. Still, it is nice to feel your toes in the sand and the sun on your skin and then be able to walk into a city you love.

        Also, there was another group excursion this past weekend! We went to Reims to see their Notre-Dame cathedral. It was absolutely breathtaking. Then we went to Epernay to tour the Caves Mercier and learn about the champagne distilling process. It was very interesting, plus we got free champagne! The vineyards seem like they go on forever. Most of Reims was destroyed during the First World War, so the tour guide kept apologizing for the city not being as historical looking than the rest of France. However, Reims captures my favorite time in history. They rebuilt the city in the 1920s, so I felt like a flapper walking down the street to a speakeasy. I wanted to roll down my stockings and do the Charleston! During the Epernay tour, I was so happy because I was able to understand everything the tour guide was saying in French! Also, she said she loved my hair. The bus ride back to Paris was a few hours, and very scenic.

        This past weekend was also Le Tour De France! These cyclists are not your usual hipsters riding on their fix gears you see going through Temple campus. These are the professionals! The race was amazing. Everyone was there! They are a blur going past your eyes through the Champs Elysees. On the way back from the race the metro had a beautiful string ensemble playing in the midst of everyone rushing to catch his or her train. I have seen banjo players and guitarist belching in the New York subway system, but I have never seen anything this classy. It was such a reminder of how pleasant this city is.

        To finish off this blog I would like to let the world know that my taste buds have died and gone to heaven. I finally tried the infamous Macaroon. They are everywhere here and everybody raves about them. I had a “framboise” flavored Macaroon (which means “berries”), and once you go Macaroon you never go back…aroon. Seriously though, everyone MUST try this delicious baked good. It will change your life. This weekend I will be visiting the castles of Amboise and Chenonceau. Get ready for a princess themed blog next time! Au revoir! (Le Tour De France photo provided by Cara Anderson. Merci!)

So I tried my hands at a jam session…

I came to Brazil with the full intent of becoming a better musician and opening up the way I play and write music. What better time to learn than at jazz jam?

After a long day at the beach, my friends and I decided to put on our dancing shoes and split a cab. For only 3 realis, I had the experience of a lifetime. We walked down a cobblestone hill as we checked out the latest fashions, from mullets to beautiful floral dresses. Young and old were out and about, and the people were packed like sardines, something I have yet to experience at a jazz club in America.

The venue was outside and overlooking the water. The weather was breezy, people were friendly, and fried queijo was at the tip of your fingers.

I had previously asked my teacher if this was the type of jam session that I could play at, and he said he would see what he could do for me. I listened to the first couple songs and thought, “Hey, no big deal I got this.” So I went up to the line of musicians waiting to play. Everyone knew everyone and people were trading hugs and kisses on the cheek. We waited by this old VW bus that seemed to be out of service and there for decoration. People were hanging out inside, as well as adjusting the sound from there.

So I waited. I had a first class view of everything going on, and I figured, even if I didn’t get to play, I got a great seat. I saw a drummer who played with an unheard of groove, and dark curly hair to match. I saw a kid who looked no older than 18 switching instruments every song, and playing better than many seasoned 50 year olds I know. I saw timbale and pandera players who were funkier than James Brown. Needless to say my musical expectations were being filled. Before I knew it, my teacher came up and began to talk to the musicians he knew and ask if I could play a tune. Okay keep your cool, you can do this.

So, I waited, and I began to doubt myself, and others began to look at me with very questioning eyes. What is this girl doing here? She looks lost. Maybe we should help her? With my little Portuguese I introduced myself to some musicians and held up a conversation for as long as I could before I ran out of Portuguese and they ran out of English.

I finally got called up to play, after much anticipation. I was asked what I wanted to play, and I answered ,”whatever you want?” I am so bad at making decisions what is my problem? Finally we all decided on Cole Porter’s “Night and Day”. Before I had time to run off out of fear, the song was counted off and we began to play.

Immediately i felt a change. It’s hard to explain, as most things are when you go abroad, but the attitude was the biggest difference I felt. Everyone was just there to have a good time. All the musicians had gigantic smiles sweeping across their faces. I finished playing and was greeted with hugs and kisses from all the musicians, and invited back to play again. I also got introduced, “Gracie Clements from Washington, DC the White House!!!”. The crazy drummer handed me the mic and I said, “Obrigado, e Boa Noite!” (Thank you, and Goodnight!”). I left the stage with a new sense of myself and a new stage name to go back to the states with.

Music in Bahia

I finally got to check out some live music in Brazil!  What I have been waiting for my whole life.  Every Tuesday in Pelourinio, they have free concerts on the church steps, and music playing all around.  Myself, Armando, Miguelina and I went with the other students from the Dialogo School.

We all met at the bus stop and got on an extremely crowded bus where I was sat closer to strangers than I had my own sister.  After a short bus ride there we were dropped off at the end of the line and began walking towards the music.  A young girl selling peanuts, and tons of tents selling caiprihnias and other drinks greeted us.  The concert that is usually free ended up being 50 reails, which is 25 US dollars, so we decided to keep walking around.  We went down one street, where people began crowding.  We saw on the steps rows and rows of people waiting for music to begin.  This was the beginning of a night like nothing I had ever experienced.  My friends and I got a place pretty close to the front and got settled.  Without warning the music began and samba broke out!  As the night continued I got to move up closer and closer to the front.  By the end of the night I was dancing in the front row with some older Brazilian women I met.  One of them told me I was danced the samba “muito bom!” and kissed me on the cheek.  We both had really big smiles on our faces, and continued to dance.  This is something I can’t really picture happening in the US.  It was really special to me, how we could connect through the music even though my Portuguese did not take me very far and she did not speak English.  This was such a special night not only because the music was fun but also because everyone as a collective was part of the music.

Tomorrow night I am going to try my hands at a jam session.  This is a pretty big deal, because I usually don’t even go to jam sessions in the US for fear of my hand falling off from playing drums behind too many horn solos.  However, I am really excited to see how the Brazilians do it, and maybe I’ll have a thing or two to show the Americans when I get back!  I highly doubt that I will school any of the Brazilians on rhythm, most of these people have been playing drums since age four!

Sorry Folks, I Don’t Wanna Leave

I do not know what it is about Paris, but I feel like I have found my heart again. Inspiration oozes from the walls of every building, character grabs a hold of you with every person you pass, and the air gives your senses an exhilarating tingle. This city makes you feel complete. You are part of something here. It is similar to a “Where’s Waldo” picture. If you look at it from far away it is just a blur of colors, but when you get close you see that each color is a unique individual. This makes you want to look at every single person on this page, each person has a purpose. It grabs a hold of your heart when you realize that not one person is the same. Paris is like a “Where’s Waldo” picture and each person is their own “Waldo.” I am “Waldo” and I see everyone else in the city, each person is very different from the next and doing something that contributes to this great city, I see all this while I am trying to find myself, “Waldo.”

It is funny that I think this because when you walk around the city there is a lot of street art that contains a picture of Waldo from “Where’s Waldo.” There is such beautiful street art here. I came across one just the other night that read, “Regarde le ciel” which means, “watch the sky,” and I have never seen a more beautiful sky. Paris’ sky is like a painting. It is so romantic when you live in a painting. As Kurt Vonnegut said, “everything is beautiful and nothing hurts,” and that is how it feels here. I feel like I am falling in love more and more everyday and that I am invincible.

Speaking of invincible, Bastille Day showed me some real Parisian patriotism. My first step outside that day was me hitting the ground and covering my head because I was frightened by an extremely loud noise. It was military airplanes flying over the city over and over again. I felt a little silly after I saw everyone walking around casually and me on the ground like a crazy person. It was a beautiful sight. The sky was clear and the planes were roaring around the skies with such pride. That night the streets were filled with people dancing and singing and enjoying the fireworks. I would say the tourist enjoying the show seemed more excited than the actually Parisians. The Parisians seemed cool and collected, however, when I looked around at all the people I could tell that the true Parisians had full hearts. I saw this because while the fireworks were going many of the people started cuddling up, holding hands, and even kissing.

Oh la la! That is something I had to get used to here. Public displays of affection are totally accepted here. I do not just mean sweet little hello and goodbye kisses exchanged between couples, I mean straight up making-out, legit French-kissing, legs-wrapped-around-each-other, in the middle of the street kind of kissing. At first I was a little uncomfortable, but now I think it is sweet. They are so passionate about their feelings for each other that they are in their own little world and do not care what anybody else thinks about them. It is beautiful. I would take a picture for everyone to see and understand better, but that would probably be a little creepy…

My phone keeps dying so I did not get as many pictures as I would have like for this week to post, but I will try to remember to charge my phone for next week’s post! I do not have a functioning phone here. I just use my phone for Wi-Fi and pictures. To contact anyone I just go on Facebook, or I actually talk to people face-to-face and plan ahead. I feel like I am in the 50s! Ha-ha! Actually though, it is pretty nice. I feel more laid back because I am prepared for anything to happen, and in Paris, ANYTHING can happen (in a good way). Well, this weekend Paris is setting up a fake beach around the Seine River, with sand and free concerts! So tune in next time to here about that! It should be trés fou! (The last 2 pictures are from http://www.facebook.com/paris of the Eiffel Tower on Bastille day.)

Getting adjusted to time in Bahia…

I have no clue what day it is, and no clue what time it is.  Time runs differently in Bahia, as Professor Dossar is reminding us.  Part of this has to do with me not having a phone, and rarely having Internet.  But part of it I cannot explain.  Life seems a little simpler here.  I am treasuring it every day, because I know it will not last very long.  We met another  American on the beach the other day, and he was telling us how he lived in Bahia for 2 years working as an artist.  He had a lot of trouble adjusting to the culture in Boston, and the fast paced life we live.  It is something hard to explain.  It isn’t to say that everyone here is just a big hippy and free.  People here have things to do just like us.  However, they get to it when they are meant too.  A popular phrase here is the equivalent to our “God willing”.  We are learning much about the faith here within the Brazilian culture.  It seems much more spiritual than many religions I have studied.  There is a popular song called “walk with faith” by Joberto Gil that is very popular here.  This is something I don’t see happening in the United States.  Our top 40 is much more concerned with songs about tiny bikinis at the beach.  We are often reminded by everyone to be patient.  At first I thought this was a conspiracy, and Professor Dossar was making people tell us that, but I am constantly reminded of it.

Things that are simple.  I do my laundry in the sink here, and I let it dry on the close rack.  Things seem much more thoughtful.  Instead of throwing my clothes into the washing machine and leaving, it is a much more thoughtful process.  Being here really makes me think about what I actually need.

We are slowly getting used to this city.  It is day 6, and we have found our market, our favorite place for feshauda, and our favorite beach.  It takes us no longer than 15 minutes to walk up the big hill to school, and I haven’t even gotten sick from any of the food!  That is saying something, because I had a maracuia juice.

We are adjusting to our school routine, Afro Brazilian culture and music in the morning, and Portuguese class in the afternoon.  I am pretty sure I will never want to see quejo again when I get home, which is weird because it is my favorite food.

One thing I realized I take for granted back home is how easily accessible everything is.  I find myself sometimes craving foods, that I would never dream of eating in the United States.  Why would an ex-vegetarian be craving Popeye’s chicken like this?  To be fair I would also do anything for some vegetables.  I began practicing my patience the other night; my roommate and I decided to check out the pizza scene here, because I’ve heard it’s something special.  It was raining, but you only live once right?  So, we took ourselves to the pizza place around the corner.  First mistake.  We were not well equipped to be in this fancy place with our sweatpants. Second mistake, I only brought 5 reis, and one pizza is 40 reis. Woah, this is awkward.  I must keep reminding myself, that the exchange rate for the US dollar is quite good; one dollar to 2 Reis.  That aside I realized how crazy America is.  At any moment, within a mile, I could get one slice of pizza for a dollar.  I would also have 500 different choices.  We ended us getting a delivery pizza for 10 reis each.  The pizza was tasty and all was well.

First week in Brazil!

I woke up this morning, and I realized, in just a few short hours I would be on my plane to Salvador, Brazil.  Needless to say I was freaking out.

It begins with the packing.  Will anyone actually want to play with the UNO cards I brought, or will that just make me look stupid?  How can I convince my mom to let me bring my guitar?  Okay, I will settle for ukulele.  I guess I will have to learn how to play that, along with speaking Portuguese in the next 6 weeks.  Who knows maybe I am a ukulele prodigy?  Will I look like an idiot in my American bikini?  Do I even bother bringing a top?

Step two; I make it to the airport, with just a few tears spared between my mother and I, in between laughing at ourselves for how ridiculous we are.  I found it important to get the airport with much time to spare.  So much so, that I read through every single fashion and music magazine, and even had to resort to magazines about golf, motorcycles, and gardening.  Am I there yet?

More questions, what do people eat for breakfast in Brazil?  Did I take enough Airborne?  Will Brazil’s climate make my hair look stupid?  Did I just see two people at the airport with weed paraphernalia?  I don’t know about chivalry being dead, but discreteness is definitely rolling over in his grave.

I met up with Armando, and we waited at the gate for about 10 minutes before boarding to Miami.  We got there at about 7, and met up with all the others going on the trip.

Before we knew it, it was time to board to Salvador.  I hope I didn’t forget anything, will my passport work?  Is my Visa the right Visa?  Butterflies in my stomach I found my seat next to two 15-year-old Brazilian twins.  They were on their first trip to American visiting Disney world and all of the other flamboyant attractions we have to offer.  I asked them how they liked America and their eyes lit up like fireflies, “Very much”, they said.  We talked as far as we could with my little Portuguese.  They of course had amazing English, and I reminded them many times.  I admire them so much, only 15 years old, in another country, striking up conversation with a complete stranger.  I definitely could not have said the same for my awkward self at that age.  So kudos ladies.

But I Really Want To Go To Class…

Classes at La Sorbonne have begun and currently I am sitting in the Hogwarts-like library of my student hostel typing this. I am in here often now because of my schoolwork. I was just getting used to having a free schedule and simply exploring the romantic city of Paris and becoming great friends with everyone in the program. I guess I thought classes were going to put an end to that, so the night before the first day of class I converted back to my 12-year old self, thinking, “I don’t wanna go to school. School is for squares. UGH.” Also, having my first class at 8a.m. did not help. However, my passion for the French language won the battle, and of course I went. These classes were not like any other classes I have every taken. They are so lovely. This adjective, “lovely,” is the best adjective for these classes because they are truly every meaning of the word. The students are from all over the world, the teachers speak a beautiful, song-like, French that just entrances you, and everyone that surrounds you is very encouraging and not intimidating one bit, like I know how some language classes can be.

Every morning, no matter how late I was out the night before, I wake up bright and early with the enthusiasm of a playful puppy. I cannot wait to get to class. The student hostel provides a breakfast of fresh baguettes with jam or butter, along with orange juice and a café au lait. The mornings fill you with fresh air while you sit amongst friends and practice your French. The walk to class is just as nice. The mornings can be a little chilly, however when the sun starts to peak through the clouds it is as if a warm blanket was just placed over the city. My first class is in a small, but homey room, with friendly classmates and an amazing teacher. She is so nice, always smiles at you and makes sure that you never get lost. Writing this sentence hurts the high school rebel I still have somewhere inside of me, but I must confess, the homework is the best! You get the perfect amount, not so much that you feel overwhelmed and rushed, but not too little that you feel you have not learned anything. It is perfect. I already feel like I understand this language so much better! Doing homework in this library just makes me feel magical. Homework is finished every night with loads of time to spare for the night.

I do not even know where to start to explain the nighttime adventures here. I had no idea my feet could walk so much. Nancy Sinatra must have had Paris in mind when she said, “These boots are made for walking” because that is just what my boots have been doing. Weeknights are usually spent doing homework and then sitting on the roof with wine and cheese watching the beautiful Parisian sunset. Then the weekend nights have so much room for activities! It can start in an English pub near the Luxembourg gardens, to sitting on the grass watching the light show at the Eiffel Tower, then dancing at a club in Bastille, or a party on a boat floating down La Seine River and can end with a free baguette in hand while watching the sunrise over the Notre Dame. Last weekend a large group of us went out to a bar and made Parisian friends and we spoke French as much as we could. Who knew a learning experience could be so much fun! We got their contact information and will probably meet up with them again and speak even more French!

If you are not really into the French language then I can see my excitement getting boring to you. However, you have to understand, language is the greatest man-made gift. The first humans on earth wanted to communicate to each other so badly that they created their own language. Humans want nothing more than to be able to communicate and share life with each other. Language is what fuels the unconscious and conscious mind. Without language we would not truly exist. So being able to communicate with the people here in France is exhilarating. I feel accomplished and more human every time I have a conversation in French to someone. From ordering an apple at the café, “Bonjour! Je voudrais une pomme s’il vout plîat.” to striking a conversation with someone at the bar, “Bon Soir! Quelle bière est la moins chère, mec?” makes me feel that much closer to the human race.

Also, we had an excursion this weekend with the program. We went to Giverny to see the House of the famous impressionist painter Claude Monet. Being in the atmosphere that filled Monet with such inspiration was a life changing experience. The garden, and the pond with the notorious water lilies, was absolutely breathtaking. Colors swirled all around you and gave you a feeling that life was going to be ok. After Giverny we went to Rouen. This is the town where Jeanne d’Arc, the first feminist, lived. God told her she had to fight in the war to keep her people safe, so she cut her hair and joined the war, leading a group of men to victory in the war. However, back in those days women were not allowed to do such things. When she was found out she was said to be a witch and was burned at the stake. Now she is a religious symbol and seen as a saint.  Bits of the foundation of her house are still visible and the Notre-Dame cathedral that honors her is available for visiting. When we were there, a beautiful wedding was happening. These excursions were amazing and I cannot wait to have my eyes opened even more during this trip. This weekend is Bastille Day, which is Independence Day for France. Check in on my next blog to hear about that crazy shindig. Au Revoir!

The Things I will miss about Korea

I cannot believe how fast these past four months have gone by! Now, I will board my flight home in a few hours. I have already said goodbye to some of my fellow exchange students and now it is my turn. I am really grateful for this opportunity and it feels odd to think that I might not see the wonderful friends that I made here for a long time. I got to experience many things in Korea, but I still have many more things to see.

There are many things that I will miss about Korea:

1. Food–I love everything
2. Easy and convenient subway–you can get almost anywhere with the numerous lines and transfer stations…the fare is also cheap and it is free to transfer to the bus within Seoul
3. T money–a convenient way to pay for things and transportation…unlike Philly subway tokens
4. Clean and Neat–there are no trash cans on the streets but it is still really clean, the cleaners really work hard, and the people really take care of their city…the trees and bushes are always trimmed too
5. Fashionable people–they always look good
6. Beautiful parks–there are so many parks and you can always relax and watch the beautiful scenery
7. Bargaining in the markets–nice clothes, street food, and souvenirs!
8. Safe–Seoul is a really safe place. I even walked back to my dorm alone after a late night movie… I can never do that in Philly
9. Walking everywhere–there are many sidewalks and it is easy to take some time and enjoy the scenery
10. Historical sites–there are many historical things to see right in the middle of the city…a blend of the past and future in the city of Seoul
11. Wifi is everywhere–it is always easy to access wifi and is available almost everywhere
12. Coffee shops–there are so many coffee shops available to have a chat with friends and some have unique themes such as Charlie Brown
13. Waffle shops–yum! delicious…waffles with cream or ice cream or Belgian waffles….waffles are big hit in Korea
14. Quiet–people are quiet in public areas such as the subway and they try to speak quietly if they have to talk on the phone
15. Respect–the younger people must always speak politely to the elders and greet their seniors in school with formal speaking and bowing
16. English–most young Koreans in Seoul know some English, so it is easy to communicate
17. Night Life–the city is lit up at night and does not seem to sleep…people stay out to drink and club or karaoke until the subways start running again which is around 5:30am
18. Public Bathhouses–a nice way to relax and they are a cheaper place to stay then hotels
19. Pretty Oceans–the sea is so nice and clean and blue!
20. Close Friendships–You can see girls hold hands with each other and even guys are really close as well

There are so many other things I will miss too! I hope to come back soon and see my friends again. I am sure I will be back some time in the future, so to all my friends–it’s not goodbye but see you later! 안녕 (Annyeong) Korea! It was an amazing semester and I will never forget it.

Jeju Island

Since everyone kept telling me that I had to go to Jeju before returning to the States, I decided to squeeze in a short trip right before I leave. I joined a group called ISF or International Student Fellowship for a 3 night, 3 day trip, but I  had to leave Jeju a day earlier than everyone else in order to catch my flight back home. The group I went with was made up of a few Koreans and many Chinese students, although most of them knew how to speak English.

We arrived to Jeju and spent the night in housing provided by the church group. Weather in Jeju can be unpredictable; It rained heavily all night and was still raining in the early morning, but luckily, the weather cleared up later. We woke up early  and headed out to Udo, or Cow Island, which is shaped like a cow if you watch the island at sunrise. We took a ferry to get to the small island. There, we had to climb up many stairs and a hill to reach our final destination, which were two lighthouses overlooking a valley with cows and the sea. We also explored through a small cave on Udo.

Later in the afternoon, we went back to the main island to climb up Yongnuni, or a giant hill. It was really like a small mountain. Once we reached the top, we could see the beautiful hills and windmills turning in the background. We also went on a course called Seventh Course Olle, which was a walking trail along the coastline that allowed us to see some beautiful sights on the island. It was also where a Korean drama was filmed. Our last stop that day was to a waterfall called Chunjiyeong Falls.

On the second day, we went to the Alive museum, which consisted of pop out and interactive art. Visitors can go up to the paintings and pose so it actually looks like they are part of the picture. The Alive museum also had an outdoor sculpture garden where famous sculptures were give a funny twist.

After the Alive museum, we finally got to go to a beach called Hapjeong beach. The beach was very clean and the sea was blue and clear. The water was also very shallow with waves, and it was easy to see what was swimming around your feet. I don’t know how I can go back to the Jersey beaches after seeing the ones in Korea.

Later in the evening, we went to Yongmori, which means dragon road. There, we went to walk along the jagged sea coast and see all the mussels stuck on the rocks. Some people climbed the rocks to take pictures. In the U.S., there would be so many precautions that keep us safe but restrict us from truly experiencing the landscape. In Korea, there are no railings to prevent people from falling into the sea, but I think the government trusts people to be smart and safe.

Unfortunately, Yongmori is the last sightseeing spot for my visit to Jeju and Korea. My sister and I bought some Jeju stone keychains and chocolates to bring back as souvenirs.

Bonjour de Paris!

Bonjour de Paris! This is an amazing place. I wish I could thoroughly convey my feelings about my 5 days here so far, but I just do not know if that is possible. This place makes you want to grow your arms long enough to be able to hug the entire city. Since the second I set foot on my plane from Pittsburgh this adventure has felt like a dream come true. This is my first blog entry of the trip and I already wish I were writing it completely in French. This blog entry is just the first of many that will be explaining my amazing, once-in-a-lifetime, experience here in Paris, France studying at La Sorbonne.

It begins in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. While in the airport my parents are driving me crazy. “Do you have this?! Are you sure you didn’t forget that one thing?! I think we should buy you a new suitcase right now. Maybe I should come with you!” The security line has never felt so relieving. After getting onto the plane I noticed that my ticket was not a direct flight like it was pre-supposed. Instead it said that “changing planes” in a different city is somehow not the same a layover; turns out I had a “plane change” in Charlotte, North Carolina. Nerves would have gotten to me if I had not immediately noticed whom the passenger a few rows in front of me was. It was Nick Vujicic, the actor from an amazing and inspirational short film entitled “The Butterfly Circus.” (Watch it here!-http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=y_MCwlY6zzg) When we arrived to Charlotte, I rushed over to see him in order to exchange a few words with this living legend. I was able to talk with him and get a picture with him. He is a man with no limbs, simply a torso and a head, but what a good head he has on his shoulders.

Everyone knows how awful overnight flights can be, and my next flight, from Charlotte to Paris, was certainly not something I was looking forward to. However, the man seated next to me turned out to be a fitting neighbor! We started talking after he dropped his fork during dinner and it vanished into thin air. He was born in the Philippines, but his mother is from France and his father is from England. Having a French mother, he had an interesting take and connection into the city. He told me all the most beautiful spots to go to in Paris, gave me pointers on French culture and we even talked about punk music. When we got off the plane the airport had lost my luggage and he helped me communicate with the airport officials to get my bag back. We split after leaving the terminal, however we are now Facebook friends.

Exiting the terminal was a little frantic. The airport was packed from wall to wall and we were all rushing through one door with luggage and I was supposed to be meeting someone that I had only met briefly once before. The first person I see outside the terminal was a smiling face waving at me. We waited for the others at their terminals and we all became friends immediately. I would confidently say, even though it has only been 5 days, we are a family now. Entering into Paris was breathtaking. Every building has such history and beauty. Maybe it was the romance language that was filling my head, but I fell in love with the city.

Jetlag was a little rough on me, which made the first day feel like years, but I still never wanted it to end. Everyday here, so far, has made me feel like a giddy teenage girl falling in love. My heart fills with the Parisian more and more each day. I can already tell leaving is going to be heartbreaking. This blog has to come to an end now, but in my next blog I will be writing about my classes at La Sorbonne, the Parisians and other European people I have met and my crazy adventures around Paris.