We’ll Always Have Paris

Currently I am on the plane from Paris to my layover in Charlotte, NC. I woke up at 5:30am to make sure I would not miss this 11am flight. Yesterday was my mom’s 50^th birthday, so my coming home is like a present for her. I am happy to be going home, to familiar territories, friends and family; I cannot wait to enjoy my favorite home cooked meal. However, my heart is broken. I mean seriously, if you have been reading my blogs this should not be a surprise. I am in love with the French language, with Paris and leaving feels like I am leaving the love of my life. Lift-off on a plane always kind of shakes me, but this time I was completely distracted by the tears building up in my eyes. I felt so at home in Paris, actually, I felt better than that! I felt like I could accomplish anything. My dreams were made in Paris and I will never forget it. That famous line from Casablanca keeps playing through my mind, “we’ll always have Paris” and Paris will always have me.

My last week in Paris was great. An old friend of mine was passing through Paris and came to visit me. We picnicked in the Luxembourg Gardens and ate cotton candy (cotton candy in French is “barbe à papa,” which translates to, “dad’s beard” Ha!) by the Ferris wheel. We also visited the Moulin Rouge, which is still an active burlesque theater. It is on a street filled with other little burlesque theaters, sex shops and erotic museums. It was an interesting experience… Nonetheless, the Moulin Rouge is a beautiful theater. From there we walked up to Sacre Coeur and watched the sunset over Paris. It was a breathtaking sight. Also, my step grandmother came to visit me! It was so great to see family in Paris, we had such a great time. Though communication was complicated because I had no phone, we eventually were able to meet up for a day. We walked around the Eiffel Tower and I showed her around Saint-Michel (which is the street the foyer is on). Later that day we met up for dinner, we got all dolled up and she took me to this fancy restaurant that I would always see on my walk to class. A seafood restaurant that is super fancy! The menus were ipads and they put a little bowl of dry ice in all their entrees, so all their food had a mysterious fog surrounding it. I felt pretty cool.

Before I met up with her I made an appearance at the dinner the program was having. It was in a seriously authentic Parisian restaurant and I tried my first infamous Kir Royal. It is a drink with casis and champagne, the very “French” drink. Also, with the program, we toured the Catacombs. Oh man, Eastern State Penitentiary looks like a fun house compared to the Catacombs. There were so many real human bones! The Catacombs are underground tunnels beneath Paris that are just filled with walls and walls of skulls and bones from thousands of Parisians. The tunnels are stone, manmade tunnels, the ground is damp and there are all kinds of carvings on the walls that talk about death. It is a very eerie feeling. You walk for a bit through tunnels like that until you get to where the bones are. The first room you enter with bones has a warning sign engraved above it in French that says something along the lines of the dead will breathe into you once you step into this room. The bones are piled up very orderly, you can literally stare them right in the eye-sockets. It was a really cool experience and the gift shop had absinthe!

Also, I had a last meeting with my Parisian friend that I met here. Her name is Marianne and she is so awesome! She told my friend, Harry, and I to meet her at a place called “Miss Cupcake.” It was the cutest little cupcake shop on Montmartre and she goes there so often that the cashier was extremely nice and gave us an extra cupcake for free. I am going to miss her and my other friends that I made here!! I really hope they come visit me someday! My classmates were all really cool people as well. Last night we had a final super. We went to a touristy restaurant near Saint-Michel and after we all sat by the Seine with a few bottles of wine and just talked about how much we are going to miss each other and how we are going to try and visit each other back in the U.S. or in Sweden or Australia! It was a good way to say goodbye.

The first night I was in Paris I was delusional and jet-lagged and I sat by the Seine drinking wine with people who were strangers to me then but are now great friends and we drank wine and talked about what we were determined to accomplish in Paris. My last night in Paris was spent by the Seine, drinking wine with people who are now great friends of mine and we talked about what we had accomplished and how proud we are of each other. It could not have been more perfect. So this is probably my last blog about Paris, thank you for tuning into my blabbering about my adventures. I really do feel like a new person, like my life has been refresh. Je voudrais retourner à Paris un jour. C’est une bonne ville. Je suis tombée de l’amour avec Paris. Il faut que je practique ma français toujours. Je t’aime Paris!! Au revoir. (A bientôt!)

 

p.s.      I have never been more content with myself. I got a B+ in my class at La Sorbonne and I know for a fact I have learned so much! Just a minute ago, while the stewardess was passing out the dinners I had to help communicate for the French couple sitting next to me. They do not know any English and I had to help them order. The stewardess talked to me in English and I repeated it to the couple in French and then they answered in French and I translated to the stewardess in English. The reason this is proof that I have learned a lot is because on the plane to Paris the man sitting next to me (that I mentioned in the first blog) was quizzing me in French to see what I knew (I asked him to) and I had no idea how to say Pasta. Low and behold that was the first word I had to translate for this couple. They don’t know, but it gave me the best feeling ever. I am truly so happy, la vie est rose!

Back in the Saddle

Philadelphia.  Seven months detached.  Some things have changed, and others remain the same.  Looking back it all seems like just one long dream.  Thinking about the experiences I had, I want to take this final blog post to reflect on the things I have learned while living in Japan.

Number 1: Differences are beautiful, accept them.  Before I came to Japan I was not much of an otaku, nor did I have any extreme interests towards specific aspects of Japanese culture.  I just had a general interest in the country, based on things I had already knew.  I took the trip so that I might learn more from a first person perspective.  When we are in our comfort zone we tend to do the same things that we know we like, and stick around those who are similar to us.  This stifles growth and learning.  I came to the realization that I would not have a comfort zone in Japan similar to the ones I had at home.  Therefore, I learned how embrace cultural differences and apply them to my own living abroad.  This is not to say that I compromised my own identity.  I just merely developed ways to communicate and interact effectively across cultures.  One night, while out with a group of friends, I look around the table.  Looking back at me were faces from all parts of the world.  Deep down you get a sense that everyone is connected on this Earth.  Our differences don’t separate us, they are what identifies us as unique.

Number 2: Balance and Harmony.  Balance seems to be an important part of Japanese culture.  I got a grasp of this mentality and applied it to various aspects of my life.  I began to eat healthier and stray away from sweets.  I chose water or unsweetened tea over sugary, caffeinated drinks.  As the days turned into weeks, it became an unconscious habit to be healthy.  My time management skills also increased.  Balance may sound like such a rigid, static word; but harmony accompanies it as well.  I developed a go-with-the-flow mentality, and did my best to extinguish conflict among groups.  I started to listen more, and be more in tune with the body language of others.

Number 3: The world is huge!  I understand the size of the world differently now.  Of course we all know how vast the world really is.  Yet when were living in the small little complex world of our community, we sometimes forget about the outside.  Living abroad, I always was aware that there was an outside, and that there were other things going on outside of my small Tokyo community.  It’s an interesting feeling: to be fully engrossed in your living space and at the same time being concerned of the things going on back at home and around the world.  I have grown to become more concerned about international matters in general.  We are all in this world together.

From friends to family, to those I may not know personally, thank you all for following me on this seven month adventure.  I encourage you to check out the other bloggers studying abroad in different countries, we all have interesting stories to tell.  Lastly, I’d like to thank everyone at Temple University Education Abroad for allowing me to utilize this site as a platform to express my own personal reflections on Life in Japan.  If any followers are interested in learning more about Japan from my point of view, or just have questions in general, feel free to email me at eric.burton13@temple.edu.  Thanks again and，左様なら！

To be a foreigner

A couple things come to mind.  I can’t say popcorn in Portuguese.  Why is everyone talking so fast, and damn, I really thought batman would at least have English subtitles.

After throwing ourselves into Bahian culture, we decided to take a day off and head to the movies.  Because of lack of Internet to check times, we started walking to the mall with nothing to loose.  We got there and saw that the next movie was for 3 hours, so what better time than to make a pro con list of malls in Brazil.  Pros; everything is an extra half off because the dollar is so strong, the food court is way nicer, and you can buy caramel everywhere.  Cons; nothing.

The whole group spoke about how it was kind of comforting to come to a mall and be around some familiar things.  It was funny to me though, because this was one of the times it hit me the most that I am in Brasil.  I realized that you never really have a day off when you are the foreigner, and you should never get too comfortable.  I decided to go the American way, and have ice cream and popcorn for dinner.  This was my first hurdle.  Why did everyone look at me like I was crazy?  All I said was, “una bolsa de dolce de leite”….  Is my accent that bad?  The same exact thing happened with my popcorn, but I got through that by pointing, smiling and pointing again, and repeating the phrase in Portuguese, until I see the mutual look of understanding.

It was weird for me to go to such a familiar place, and experience it in such a different way.

After searching and scouring for deals, and finding none, we trekked on to the movie “batman, the Dark Knight Rises”.  Things were starting off pretty well.  The previews were mostly in English with Portuguese subtitles.  Perfect, I thought, I get to practice my Portuguese, and I get to hear Christian Bale’s crazy batman voice.  Well, to everyone’s surprise, the movie was neither in English, nor did it have subtitles.  Within 15 minutes 3 out of 6 Americans were napping.  Every ten minutes or so, I would forget about the Portuguese, and just continue to watch the movie, then I realized again, oh right I have no clue what is happening. 

This very minor comfort zone put many things into perspective for me.  I had one teacher last semester that gave us 3 pieces of advice the first day, none of which was related to his class.  One was to take a picture of yourself in your birthday suit, because you wont be this young forever.  The second was to read the newspaper, and the third was to study abroad no matter what.  Everyone needs to know what it is like to be foreigner in another culture.

Welkom To Amsterdam (PG-13)

Before I begin this blog I would like to say that anyone who is easily offended should stop reading right now. Now calm down. I am not saying I am writing an XXX blog, I now Amsterdam has quite the reputation.  However, this blog just has some over 13-18 years of age stories to it and that is it, nothing too off-the-wall. If you are ok with that then this blog will not only be very entertaining but enlightening. So, in Amsterdam I stayed at a Hostel on the popular bar street called “Leidseplein,” and partook in the Gay Pride festivities and visited the red light district. The story commences with my train ride from Paris, Gare du Nord to Amsterdam, Centraal Station (those two a’s are not a typo).

Currently it is difficult for me to access a printer, so I opted for the “paperless” tickets for the train. This made me a little nervous because when I got on the train everybody had paper tickets. However, I felt pretty cool and high-tech when the ticket conductor came and scanned my ticket all while we were exchanging formal greetings in French. Yea, that happened, I am awesome. Anyways, the train ride was quite a surprise. I literally closed my eyes and fell asleep for what felt like a second, but when I woke up I was in Amsterdam.

The Amsterdam train station was gorgeous. Beautiful red bricks and unique stone work. Actually, when I think back on that city every building was built similar to that. It was like I was stepping into a city who knew how to make their past work as part of their present. It was amazing. When I exited the station I realized I did not plan ahead on how I was going to get to my hostel. I had arrived at 9a.m. so I had time to get lost. I strolled around the area where the station was until I realized I was not going to figure this out. Haha! So I found a Macdonald’s and got some free Wi-Fi. (The only time I was grateful for a Macdonald’s). I googled how to get to my hostel and it was easy as pie: one, 10-minute, Tram ride from the station dropped me off right on my street.

I walked around the area my hostel was in before I met up with my friend to check-in. There were so many cool things happening around me. I first stumbled upon a flower market where they, of course, were selling tulip bulbs and “grow-your-own cannabis” kits. To be perfectly blunt, that was one aspect of Amsterdam that kept surprising me. People would walk down the streets smoking cannabis like it was a cigarette. I may or may not have entered a coffee shop out of curiosity and I may or may not have found out that these places provide cannabis exactly like a restaurant, with menus, waiters and everything! They are highly respected as vendors. If I had experienced such a thing like that my mind would have been blown and I would have definitely not partaken in any of it’s content, but I definitely would have thought it was super chill… Anyways, when my friend and I checked into the hostel we met everyone staying in our room with us and they were all really cool! There were a group of girls from Finland and a group of boys from Australia.

We all ended up going out together that night. We went to several clubs and danced together as if we had been friends forever. It was great. The next day my friend and I went to the red light district. There we saw things that made me feel for the first time a cringe of culture shock. The sex shops I was not surprised by. I mean come on everyone, south street in Philadelphia has “Condom Kingdom.”  Seeing the girls with their red lights on was just inexplicable. There were half naked girls, tapping on the windows trying to entice you to come in and do whatever. Somehow my friend and I walked into a strip club, I do not know how we ended up in there, I swear it was just a bar. Anyways, we only stayed long enough to make a friend with one of the strippers. Though she was topless we had a great conversation that started from us complimenting her ring. She was a gorgeous Dutch girl that was into fashion. Walking about in the red light distract was both intriguing and heartbreaking. Some guys would taunt the girls and you can see the girls roll their eyes when the guys would pass laughing. Other girls were talking on their phones or to their girlfriend across from them and laughing, looking like they were having a great time, probably laughing about all the tourist that pass. Photos were forbidden, but the street itself, by the canal, was actually quite beautiful and I snapped a picture of that, with a few others from the sex shop…

In the morning I would go get some alsdkfjasdj to eat and then for lunch I would have jdasfkaj. Actually, those are not real words of food, but that is how it looked to me when I would read the menus. Overall, it was a great trip and I would suggest everyone to visit that beautiful city. So, that was my Amsterdam trip in a nutshell. Make sure to check out my next blog, this is my last full week here, so who know what’s going to happen! I am sure it will be inexplicably awesome.

Go Hard or Go Home

 

            Dear readers, I apologies for the tardiness of this blog. I will be making up for it by writing two RIGHT MEOW! (And OH, is it worth it.) So, This past week was quite fantastic. It is unreal to me that I am down to a week and a half left. Sigh, it breaks my heart. Anyways, this week I visited the Château Chenonceau, ate escargot, went to Montmartre, cried for those who have passed, kissed Oscar Wilde and thanked him, Edith Piaf and Jim Morrison for being alive. AND, I got an awesome grade on my past test and homework. So overall, it was a good week.

The Château Chenonceau was so beautiful! It had the most amazing gardens and towers, all surrounded by a legit moat. When you walked up to the castle entrance there was a wishing well right next to a look out tower that I swear looked exactly like the wishing well that Snow White sings into and the tower she climbs into to hide from the prince. Of course I ran up to it and sang so beautifully (actually, more like shouted like a kraken from the sea), “I’m wishing, for the one I love, to find me, todaaaaaay!!” Also, walking through this magnificent structure was incredible. I could not help but walk holding my dress and feeling like royalty. Another cool fact about this castle is that during 1914-1918 in WWI it aided 2,254 soldiers.

This week was the last week for our sweet ole’ Professor Roget. He treated us to an authentic French dinner and our new professor, Laura Spagnoli, joined us. I felt unstoppable, so I ordered the Escargot. I just would not have been content with myself if I left Paris never trying it. The conclusion was good. I thought it was delicious! It tasted like Calamari, which I love. So I was very content, though if I thought about how I was actually eating snails I kinda would start to get a little queasy, but if you just do not think about it, it is a great meal. Also this week I went with a friend to visit Montmartre. Those who are familiar with the popular movie “Amélie” know that Montmartre is where she lived. It is a breathtaking view of Paris with great street art and street musicians.

While walking up to the top of the magnanimous hill my friend noticed a plaque on a school for boys, “Ecole De Garçons.” It was in French so I had to read it a few times before I understood the entirety of it, but when I did I started to cry. In short it explained that more than 700 young Jewish boys were taken from that school and killed in concentration camps. The history that Paris holds will always be branded on my heart. On perhaps a less morbid note of deaths, I visited Père Lachaise. I kissed the tomb of Oscar Wilde, I sang “La Vie En Rose” with Edith Piaf and danced to “Touch Me” next to Jim Morrison. It felt so right to thank each one of these artists for being alive and influencing my life even in their death.

Experiencing all of this is not only making me a happier person, but I feel changed, in a good way. I feel matured and cultured; I feel like I could do anything. Paris is giving me a better view on life and I cannot wait to spread my love to those who cannot see the light of such self-freedom! Thank you all for enjoying my blog! Tune in next time and hear all about my weekend trip to Amsterdam!! It was Gay Pride week! Things got a little crazy, in a good way.

A Peaceful Weekend

Earlier in July I, along with about thirty or so other TUJ students took a trip to Hiroshima.  I did not know too much about the city itself, only its significance in World War II.  We took an overnight bus from Shinjuku station and arrived in the city early in the morning.  From the bus station we took a street car (similar to a trolley car but much lower to the ground) to Peace Memorial Park.  We met with survivors of the fateful atomic bomb as well as other city residents.  The survivors retold the stories of where and what they doing when the bomb hit.  Some of them were just fortunate to be in the right place at the right time; those who were in their vicinity either died or received very grave wounds.  After receiving a tour of the Park we checked out the Peace Memorial Museum.

From what I can remember of history classes I had in my preteens and teenage years, a significant time of the school year was spent on the World Wars.  I’m only speaking from my own experiences, but very little time was spent on the events that happened in Japan; specifically Hiroshima.  The deeper I walked into the museum more the I began to realize how horrific this tragedy really was.  Imagine the entirety of downtown Philadelphia being wiped out instantly; over 100,000 people dying instantly.  It’s hard to really comprehend the power of nuclear weapons until you’ve seen a physical example of the damage they can do.

After checking out the museum I was starving.  One food that I really wanted to try this weekend was okonomiyaki.  The Hiroshima style of this dish is considered the best in all of Japan.  I, along with a few other friends went to a nice spot that was recommended by our tour guides.  Okonomiyaki itself is sort of like a pancake, with just about anything you want beneath it.  Sounds like a fairly simple dish, but I don’t think my explanation will really do it any justice.  You’ll have to try for yourself if your ever in Japan.

Okonomiyaki

As the afternoon approached, we began to regroup and make our way towards Miyajima, the island where we would be spending the night.  As we ferried across the sea, I could spot the famous torii of the Itsukushima Shrine in the distance.  A calm, awe-inspiring feeling came across me as we neared the island.   This type of gate stands before every Shinto shrine in Japan.  Yet this one felt more unique in that it was not on dry land.  The next morning we would be meeting up with students from Hiroshima University, who would accompany us on a tour of the island.  I later learned from the students that the torii had not moved at all since it was built.  A true feat of ancient architecture.

We couldn’t have had a better weekend to spend our time in Miyajima.  We were greeted at the entrance of the Itsukushima Shrine by kaitenma boat rowers from a neighboring island.  In addition a post-wedding ceremony was occurring at the entrance to the shrine.  With all the tourists snapping photos of the event, the couple could have saved money on hiring a professional photographer!  After all this, we dined with the Hiroshima U students and staff in an okonomiyaki restaurant.  This weekend might have sealed the deal on me being an okonomiyaki addict; it’s just that good.

Marriage

Wild deer inhabit the entire island, hide your food!

After lunch I decided to take some personal time to stray away from friends and reflect on Life.  One thing learned while living in Japan is to have balance, in all aspects of living.  While living in America I found it hard to balance my social and personal life.  I would always be at one extreme or the other.  It is good be around others: to learn new things, as well as for enjoyment.  Yet sometimes it is wise to take some time to be alone with your thoughts; so that you might affirm your own opinions and ideals on things.  I hiked up a hill to a small a secluded shrine; and I thought about these things, as well as others.  Before long I’d be back on a bus headed towards the busy streets of Tokyo.

Torii at low tide

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.)