I arrived at Paris Charles de Gaulle Airport in the afternoon of Tuesday, 2nd of February 2015, at approximately 1300, Paris time. Memories from my 2010 trip to Spain began to flood my mind as I departed from the aircraft and strolled across the terminal to luggage recovery. Nothing about the place nor the experience was explicitly different from five years ago, save for the fact that I had, this time, departed from the aircraft alone - without my friends, the irksome other students from my high school, or the deceptively well-mannered students from Hendersonville, Tennessee (Surprisingly, I am still in contact with those same students. It's always nice to see how they have been these past few years). But, after all, that is the essence of adventure - to venture into unknown territory all the while leaving behind what is familiar and comfortable - and I was keen to revel in it again for the next half-year.
Mr. Muse
Of course, in this day and age, no one is ever completely left without support. I was met promptly by the international student representative from Paris Business College - Mr. Stephen Muse, with whom I had been in contact for several months by then. I must admit that I was completely taken aback by the first in-person impression he gave me. His emails (poorly structured and written) and name (I was not sure of its origin; I had assumed it was French) led me to believe that this man was removed from the problems of young American foreign exchange students. But this man had almost exceedingly proved the contrary - Mr. Muse is a Boston native, fan of the New England Patriots and the Boston Red Sox (Unsurprisingly, he was pleased with the Super Bowl results of the past day), occasionally vulgar, and, as I would find out later in the day, very down-to-earth with his colleagues and students alike, making for a friendly, enjoyable, and overall likeable character. I was wrong to develop such a bad impression of him merely from his emails; his willingness to meet me at the airport alone was testament to his dedication as a professor.
France and the Senses
As he led me through the necessary modes of transportation to get to my apartment in the 9th arrondissement of Paris, I was taking in everything about this new country that my five senses could handle. It was an incredible experience, for I knew without a doubt that I was in San Francisco no longer. The sights, smells, and sounds of everything were a pleasurable assault on the sensations, one that I had expected and had been craving for some time. I will most likely reference in delight the various experiences, in later entries, that this city has and continues to provide, so I will keep these initial descriptions short and concise. Granted that there are the perpetual riffraff who are present in any society (I am, in fact, more pleased with them than with the riffraff at home), on average, the Parisian seems to carry himself in a more graceful manner, apparently with more dignity and poise (This may just be my prejudices speaking, but this is what I can infer). I should also add that, on average, the Parisian is more easy on the eyes (though the average personality is yet to be determined). The architecture of the city is to fall head-over-heels for; the classic structures and designs of the buildings and roads whispers of the histories of centuries past and early romanticism. Even the mere side streets have a classical quality that offers much to appreciate. It is no mystery as to why Paris is called the "la Ville Lumière". The smells.. well, I can't exactly pinpoint the smells of Paris just yet, but believe it or not, they differ from the ones back home.
The School
After dropping my luggage off at my apartment, Mr. Muse took me to see the Paris Business College, located in the 16th arrondissement of Paris. It was a bit of a metro ride - approximately half an hour's worth, which should be a rough estimate as to how much time I should allocate to transportation on a daily basis. The school is situated in a quiet district of Paris (the 16th is located in the extreme south-west of the city), though it wasn't as quiet as I had expected it to be; the traffic is a bit reminiscent of that of the outskirts of San Francisco. Upon entering the college, I was introduced to my future schoolmates - students from all across Europe and even a handful from China. They seemed to be a decent group of kids, albeit incredibly talkative (Mr. Muse referenced again and again that French students are notorious for being unable to keep their mouths shut in the classroom). I see a lot of potential with me and these students. I merely have to be bold enough to reach out and act upon it.
Adventures and Misadventures
On my way back home from the college, I found myself lost in a new neighborhood after stopping at a station on the opposite side of Paris from my apartment (at Notre-Dame-des-Champs in the 6th arrondissement, as opposed to Notre-Dame-de-Lorette in the 9th). Left without GPS capability (I am still without cellular service), I explored the 6th district for my apartment for a good two hours before having to endure the embarrassment of asking a couple of hotel clerks of my true location (They were a couple of chaps from Hotel Le Six. Nice fellows, fluent in English). Perhaps what I found the most odd about my time in this district was my discovery of a quaint little Dungeons and Dragons-like shop, located in a quiet, dark corner, where a handful of Parisians of the geek quality were battling it out on their fantastical boards of wish-fulfillment. Maybe this store simply reminded me of the odd quirks back home. I wouldn't call this misadventure a waste of my time, though. Quite the contrary, wandering in an alien district gave me more to learn and to explore in this lovely city. It was this notion that led me, a couple of days later, to take a train as far to the outskirts of Paris as possible and to explore from there. It was an interesting experience, no doubt, as I got to see a different side of the city, in contrast with the busier side of the center, where my apartment is located.
Daily Living
I believe that I lucked-out with my apartment situation. My roommate, Kien, first contacted me about this place at the beginning of this year - a monthly rent of 700 euros each, complete with gasoline, electricity, and internet - situated in the center of Paris. Upon my arrival to the apartment, I understood that I struck gold; nearly everything that I would conceivably need for domestic life is but a stone's throw away from my place - two Safeway-like groceries a mere walking distance from the apartment door. Restaurants, boulangeries, and fromageries galore. And what would appear to be my regular coffee shop is located directly parallel to my apartment. All I need now is a laundromat in which to dry my clothes, but perhaps that's an issue that can be resolved next week. I'm also very grateful for my roommate, a 31-year-old student from Vietnam who moved to San Francisco for higher education, now, obviously residing in Paris to continue that education. Being of the temperament that he is, he naturally keeps the apartment and kitchen tidy. Furthermore, he also seems to be naturally caring, always telling me to spend more time outside of the apartment, doing his best to help me with my cell phone issues, etc.
Please excuse the roughness of this post; I had tried to gather the thoughts and reflections of my first three days in this country in just a few hours and there must be a few more details that have been left unsaid. But there is definitely lots more to come; if I have this much to say about these past few days, then I surely will develop carpal tunnel from writing about my anticipated adventures in the future.
