Gettin' Out

Well, it's all over. Less than two hours until I have to meet the Binets. I'm all packed except for my cameras and laptop, obviously.

Yesterday I met Laureline and Kalek for sushi. It was good to see them before I left.

Then last night was the opera Tosca at the Opera Bastille. The first act was slow, but the second and third were wonderful, and unlike Turandot, I understood the storyline perfectly. And I dunno if they used real gunpowder for the muskets when Calvaradossi was executed, but everyone in the theater practically jumped out of their seats.

Everyone said goodbyes afterward, with lots of hugs and posing for photos. I should have brought my camera, but I thought I'd have to check it at the entrance. I took the metro back alone and stopped for one last walk around La Defense.

I guess this is the end. But only in the sense that it is the end of the beginning.

Finishing Up

I've tried to write this post twice already but the... unstable individual that I live with has suddenly developed the notion that the radiation from our Internet system is giving her headaches, so she cuts off the connection just before she goes to bed.

We have an Ethernet system. I know not all of you may be that computer-savvy, but that means we get our Internet THROUGH WIRES! THERE IS NO RADIATION TO CAUSE HEADACHES!!!

I thought this idea was finally proof-positive of her really being crazy, but then today I discovered it has a larger cultural connection. While getting rid of my papers from the semester, I noticed a brightly-colored brochure from when I'd bought my cell phone on whether the radio waves from a phone can affect one's health. Every question raised in the brochure had the same answer: there is no scientific proof to indicate that radio waves have any effect whatsoever on personal physical well-being, as confirmed by the Ministry of Health and one other independent organization. But the fact that the Bouygues Telecom corporation bothered to make such a pamphlet indicates that this is a significant concern of French consumers. Were this the US I would blame the media for generating yet another health scare of the week, but as it is, I think the hysteria is the result of an urban legend blown way out of proportion by natural French hypochondria that comes from them having the best health care system in the world. Or they could just be freaking out over new technology like they did with the GMOs.

So, at least on this subject, Madame's not crazy, just paranoid. And ignorant of computers.

So just one thing left in the program. Tomorrow night the students and their host families are going to see Tosca at the National Opera. So this'll be the second opera by Puccini I've seen, after Turandot in the Olympiastadion in Munich when I was on the German exchange in high school.

Exams are over. Those of us in Cinema were pretty irritated when we devoted ourselves to studying all thirteen directors, their styles, and their works, and M. Bondurand made the whole exam an analysis of a clip from Kieslowski's Blue, the director and the film which we had all least suspected we'd be tested on. Didn't help that Blue was also the film that I liked least out of the ones we watched. Kieslowski just tried way too hard to make an art film, and the result is just aggravating. Even Russian Ark was better.

After the Explorations exam yesterday we had a picnic on the Champs de Mars in front of the Eiffel Tower to celebrate the end of classes. I brought Orangina and vodka. Others brought bread, sausage, cheese, strawberries, bananas, hummus, chocolates, pastries, and wine. I tried to eat leisurely but ended up gorging on everything that came to hand, it was all so delicious. Then I went to La Defense to meet up with my friend Kristie, with whom I'd explored the interior of the Sorbonne on Tuesday. We took the elevator to the top of the Grande Arche.

Got a lot of stuff done today to pack. Bought a sleeping bag at Au Vieux Campeur at much less than I thought I'd have to pay for it, and got my ticket to Libourne using the last day on my EuRail pass left over from Spring Break. I also bought more film, because Maia's given me the green light for my documentary study of the CVM camp.

Et j'étais genre, je ne t'écoute pas

Two exams down. Yesterday was the Grammar written exam, and I figured out why they had all of us take the metro to the suburb Arcueil outside of Paris instead of having the test in our normal classrooms: they have a whole building, specifically called the Maison des Examens, out there, with nine floors that are nothing but giant testing halls.

The main grammar section of the exam didn't go so well for me, but I'm pretty sure I saved my grade on the oral comprehension and the essay. I basically recited everything we learned back in French 375 about how the French concept of gastronomie relates not only to food, but to intellectual matters and also sex and the sexual practicality in French society, referencing Zola and Rabelais. Thank you, Maria.

There's really nothing to do now besides study, because everyone else is studying. A similar thing happens among the Yachters at Guilford during exams.

This morning I got up surprisingly early and finally visited Sainte-Chapelle, managing to beat the lines of tourists. The light in the High Chapel was cool, but I bet it would have been at the best angle at sunset instead of midmorning.

After that I've just been studying, preparing for my oral Grammar test, although I really should be studying for Cinema, which will have more in-depth information to know.

And in case I had any faint anticipations of missing this house in the future, Madame has once again disabused me of them. I won't give you a blow-by-blow of the conversation we just had at dinner, because it was on a variety of subjects, but about halfway through, my host-brother, Jean, dared to voice his opinion that maybe it was a bit much to categorize abortion as a crime. While Madame lectured him, I zoned out and began reminiscing about one of my favorite Age of Empires matches playing as the Ottomans. Gathering the supplies, constructing the mosque, hunting the deer, exploring the map (Carolina, incidentally, with me in the north)...

The conversation turned to homosexuality, and in a ploy to get his mother off his back, Jean desperately turned to me and asked what I thought on the subject (just as I was reaching Colonial). I said simply that I thought that we should accept homosexuals for who they are, prompting Madame to say that of course we should love homosexuals as people-- building the watch tower, sending more gold-- very serious disease, and the Bible clearly-- ageing to Fortress, building more houses-- and if all societies are going to be so "tolerant"-- ha, my opponent thought he was all bad sending a troop of eighteen crossbowmen to attack my town, until my five spahis (heavy Turkish cavalry) attacked their formation from the rear-- I've read these books by homosexuals, and not one of them-- training my cannons on his tower, riding down his remaining pikemen-- it's very serious, and God is very clear that-- my opponent's town burns as my infantry slaughter villagers left and right, my opponent resigns, "good game"s are exchanged-- oh, dear, it's already 9:50, Jean, you must get to bed!

I feel confident that in future times of adversity I'll be able to reflect back on these four months and remember the resilience and patience I showed living with a woman who is doubtlessly the second-craziest I have ever met.

The first was my girlfriend of seven months.

Exultation

So I'll be stayin' a wee bit longer in Europe.

This afternoon I called CVM to see why I hadn't received my acceptance letter yet, and the woman on the other end told me I GOT IN! I loved the way she phrased it too:

"Monsieur Campell, vous pouvez prevenir votre voyage."
"Mr. Campbell, you may plan your trip."

So now I have to look into buying a decent-quality sleeping bag and other camping stuff. They want us to bring our own plates and silverware, how French is that? And here I was ready to go the whole two weeks like a Roman legionary with nothing but a bowl and a knife.

My plans right now for the two intermediary weeks are to stay with my parent's friends Jean-Jacques and Marlène Binet in Montmorency near Paris until the 6th, then visit the Lincolns, an English couple that goes to our church back home at their house near Bordeaux. They're leaving for London on the 9th, so I'll probably leave early on the 8th to get out of their hair. Then I plan to have a leisurely trip to Briançon via Toulouse and Marseille. Might even stop in Nice for a day.

Today was also the photo shoot that I've been planning with Jen and Claudia. They're both fantastic models; Jen has a certain gravitas that I've never really seen before, and Claudia's one of the few people I've met that can pull off the hair-covering-one-eye thing.

Only eight days left. Now I have to study for the Grammar written exam tomorrow.

La Fin n'a pas de fin

Semester's finally winding down. We only have ten more days left in the program, and now that both Sorbonne classes, Grammar and Phonetics, have concluded, we only have one more Cinema class and then the searing trial-by-fire of the four remaining exams.

Dr. Costello is having me take pictures of classes in the program, and in return he'll be paying me the French minimum wage. Some of you might question why I didn't try to bargain him higher, like I tried to do with Mrs. O for the yearbook back in high school, but I didn't see the point. Minimum wage seems more than fair in this instance.

Last night M. Bondurand held his end-of-the-year dinner for the Cinema students at his apartment in Montmartre. We started off with gazpacho and then progressed to an array of light meats and a salad with olives, peppers, and feta. Everything was superb, easily a step above almost everything else I've eaten in Paris; for dessert we had cakes made from apricot and lemon custard that were so delicious they seemed some heavenly dish out of Hindu mythology.

We also had our last walking tour this morning. We looked at examples of Art Nouveau in the 16th arondissement. A group of us spontaneously had lunch in the Jardin de Luxembourg and wondered why we had never eaten there sooner. In Grammar and Phonetics we had small parties to celebrate the end of it all.

Haven't heard from CVM yet.

Study study study

I'm finally devoting one day to getting caught up on my studying. My first exam, Phonetics, is on Tuesday. It's the least consequential one, but then I have Cinema on the 26th and Explorations on the 27th. Grammar is actually two exams, one written, one oral. So once I finish writing this post I'm going to start reviewing prepositions, subjunctives, articles, conditional clauses, etc.

Yesterday was the program trip to Fountainebleau and Vaux-le-Vicomte, two chateaux about an hour outside of Paris. This is the kind of French history that really doesn't interest me; once upon a time there were these guys who had a lot of stuff, and we all agree that it was really cool stuff. Moving on. Don't get me wrong, I do appreciate all the history and intrigue that went on in these places, like the Revocation of the Edict of Nantes and Louis XIV's arrest of Fouquet for questionable embezzlement charges, but I feel like it all gets overshadowed by "Look at the Florentine goldwork on this decanter that was given to Henri II in blah blah blah where are the weapons?"

Last night was La Nuit des Musées, an event in which most museums in Paris were open to the public for free. I went back to the Jardin Rodin to take night shots of the statues. They weren't lit up like I thought they'd be, instead the museum was handing out little headlamps to all the patrons. I love the results I got. Hopefully when I'm internationally famous I'll be able to get permission to do this again with some models wearing all black so as to make their bodies almost invisible, drawing all the focus towards the statues and electric glow of the lights.

Thirteen days left here.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bK4k_X5jCqw
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0nlaJ4zPbSI

The Next Step

Whew.

Just sent in my application for Club du Vieux Manoir. Their headquarters at Pontpoint is only about an hour outside of Paris, so the letter should get there pretty quickly. I'll find out if I've been accepted sometime in the next week, probably Wednesday or Thursday.

The sites I signed up for in order of preference were a fortress and an abbey in Briançon, or a fortress in Guise in the north. The work is pretty much all masonry, but there are a few more specialized areas like woodworking. Boy, if they need any cabinet doors sorted...

Parks & Miyazaki

What do you get when you cross a polar bear with a water buffalo?

I've actually forgotten the name of the animal, but I saw one in the menagerie at the Jardin des Plantes today, and it was cool. All I know is that it comes from the Chinese highlands and there are only about 450 of them left due to habitat loss and overhunting.

Another weekend by myself. It actually wasn't so bad, because I kept myself busy finishing up my sightseeing in the city.

On Friday I went back to the Parc de Bercy for more photos. That area's probably my favorite in Paris, virtually untouched by tourists. The Jardin à l'américain was beautiful that day, with just the perfect intensity of sunshine. I lounged on a hillside for a while and then got up to take pictures. As I walked around I couldn't believe the tranquility and joy of the people around me; kids playing soccer, a group of teens sitting in a circle reading loud from a book with one girl moving dreamily as if she was thinking about practicing ballet, parents with their chubby bouncing toddlers, a gay couple cuddling under the arch of a gazebo, two sinewy black guys in matching outfits practicing capoeira, and a large number of people just walking and enjoying the day. Dogs were out in force too; regal German shepherds, frisky terriers, and great lolloping retrievers. This is what Heaven must be like.

After thoroughly exploring the park, the quay along the Seine, and the adjoining bridges, I went back to the house and had dinner. There was still plenty of time left in the evening, bloody sun don't set til 9:30 here, so I went out to La Defense for some night shots. The self-portraits of me in the tunnel are some of the dorkiest and yet most badass shots I think I've ever taken.

Now that I think about it, "sonic screwdriver" would make a great name for a mixed drink. And there could be another version called "laser screwdriver!" I must work out the ingredients for these.

Next day didn't do as much. Went to the 19th and walked the length of the canal from Stalingrad to Port de la Villette. When I got home I cooked rice and beans and began watching Miyazaki's debut film Nausicaä of the Valley of the Wind online. Fantastic movie, although the climax was really similar to Princess Mononoke.

This morning I planned to get up early to get to the Musée d'Orsay before the crowds, but I set the alarm wrong so I didn't get out of the house until 10:40. Luckily I got in line just before a big wave of tourists hit, so I was able to see the museum ahead of them. I saw the exhibition "Voir l'Italie et Mourir," which was a collection of paintings and photographs of Italy in the nineteenth century. It was really interesting to see how the photographic technology progressed from the daguerrotype in the 1840s to the calotype in the 1850s to dual-chromatic papers thereafter. I found the rest of the museum so-so. Now that I've seen what an art museum can be in the Musei Capitolini, I'm skeptical of museums that try to hold up their reputations by displaying works that are only artisitically relevant instead of actually well-executed.

Stopped by the Parc des Buttes Chaumont for a doze in the shade, then went to the Jardin des Plantes, France's foremost botanical gardens. The menagerie wasn't that interesting at first, as the only predatory animals they had were a few leopards, but by the end I had warmed to it. I might have to go back and see the Chinese polar buffalo-thing again.

Just finished one of Miyazaki's lesser-known films, Porco Rosso, about a daredevil aviator pig in Depression-era Italy. Actually a lot better than it sounds.

Begin Countdown

This is boring. This whole week has been one of the most boring weeks of school I can recall.

"But, Eric, you're in PARIS! There must be TONS of things to do in PARIS! Can't you just go to museum or a park or a cabaret or something?"

Yeah, everything closes at 6:30, besides the bars, and I don't like bars. And cabarets are too expensive. And this is all beside the point that my Phonetics classes, which end at 5:30, are so crushingly repetitive that they suck all the energy out of you and all you want to do afterwards is go home and watch Dr. Who. So that's what I did all week.

I'm just frustrated because Laureline canceled on me again. I understand she's busy, but this is a little much. And I was counting on there being a Liberation Day parade tomorrow on the Champs-Elysee, but a cop told me there wasn't. Or maybe he just refused to give me the time of it, he just mumbled and shook his head.

In any case, I'll just explore tomorrow, like I've been doing when everyone else has plans.

What I'm feeling isn't even homesickness. Getting back to the US isn't much of concern right now. I just want to travel more. After two consecutive weeks of feeding my childish instinct to explore, the pure, uncomplicated feeling of "what's over there? I think I'll go see," I want to do more, but I'm stuck in a box, with nothing to look forward to but exams and more guided tours. And despite the new things I've found and the things I still want to see, my subconscious is convinced that I've already seen everything. I want out of this city.

Twenty-three days.

This weekend

Yeah, yeah, I ain't posted in a while. That's cos there wasn't nothin' to post about until two days ago, and then I got hit with a paper that's due Tuesday. Luckily I spent last night getting on top of that, so it'll be easy to finish tonight.

This past week was pretty boring. For some reason I just felt generally lethargic. On Wednesday for our Explorations walking tour we did go to the Bibliotheque François Mitterand and the Parc de Bercy, two magnificent places that are just crying out for me to do some fashion-type shoots there.

Friday was French Labor Day, so we got the day off from classes. Laureline had to cancel her birthday party. I decided to go back to Bercy to get more pictures of the library and the park. While I was there I also discovered the stadium right next to the park that has really interesting architecture blending metal and grass that reminded me of the Olympiapark in Munich. This is a third locale where I want to shoot. Bloody one-track mind I have.

As the light was fading I took the metro to the Marais to look for a combination bar and bookstore that I'd heard about. I got off at Hôtel de Ville, Paris' City Hall. To my initial amusement, the remnants of a May Day manifestation against the new government regulations on university conduct were gathered outside. I shot some of their signs and even considered asking if I could take one as a souvenir, but I hadn't been part of this protest like I had the one in Rome.

Everything changed when a guy about my own age with long hair and a dense black beard poked his head out of the first floor window. He opened an aerosol can that sprayed a plume of blue powder that I guess was meant to mark the outside of the Hôtel, but was dispersed by the strong breeze. A few minutes later, something glass crashed to the ground, thrown from the second story. A group of about twenty students had somehow gotten into the Hôtel and looked like they were occupying it.

Then les fliques showed up, in full riot gear. Visors, armor, nightsticks, shields, everything. I had a distinct flashback to the urban warfare level of Half-Life 2.

I followed the police to the other side of the building and watched as they cordoned off an area from the public. They must have been gaining entry to the Hôtel to arrest the students. I made a point to keep myself apart from the other protesters, and when members of the press showed up I attempted to blend in with them.

The students must have barricaded the doors somewhere inside, because they continued to shout slogans from the windows for another half hour. One girl even walked on the narrow window ledges to try to tape a banner on the Hôtel's facade. I noticed one of the police had what looked like a camera, but then I realized was a tear-gas launcher, and was discussing whether to fire into the open window, but never did. After a while the students must have been caught or negotiated a surrender, because they disappeared from the windows and things settled down.

The next day I planned to go to Versailles, but after the protest I wasn't in the mood to view symbols of capitalist excess. So I went to Chartres. The cathedral was probably the most beautiful I've ever seen.