Due to a miscommunication, my parents were late and I was later. I went up to their hotel room. The door opened. It was weird to see my two lives collide, my family from America was in my city of Paris. We hugged, said the usual greetings, and then recalled a tale about the airport that left me cringing inside. Being my mom's first time ever doing a trip like this, and knowing the jetlag and other things that come with it, I took my parents back to my place for some wine and macarons. As I pointed out various things along the walk home, I felt slightly like a tour guide. They watched as I greeted some good acquaintances on my street, and I realized how much of a home Paris had become.
We had breakfast together in the morning, before we set off. I had made a program to show them Paris. There were some more famous places, and some lesser known places. I took them to the Paris arcades(1) to see 'old' Paris, Chatelet to walk around, the Galleries Lafayette(2) for their Christmas displays, and Opera to take pictures of the Palais Garnier(3). This was interspersed with shopping, as insisted by my mom, and the usual coffee breaks. My dad instantly fell in love with coffee with milk, and I was constantly showing them cases of the little pastries which had become my life. We ended up walking through the latin quarter, after having a wonderful dinner with live jazz. They were not used to walking as much, and I was constantly reminding myself to slow down. Christmas eve ended in a high with carols and mass at the famous Notre Dame(4) cathedral.
Christmas day is a special day, and Paris makes it even more of an event. I took them to the colorful Champs-Elyses(5) Christmas market to buy street food and look at the artisan work. We got a 'Paris' Christmas ornament, and a lot of hot cider. After walking to Concorde(6), we went back to my apartment for a real home made Christmas dinner (the first one in 2 years for me). This year, I was hosting. Every inch of my flat had been scrubbed to perfection, and my kitchen was ready to cook! I tried a modern take on a classic French meal with cheese and lots of wine, duck and rabbit for mains with potatoes and pasta, and a bûche de Noël (7) for dessert. We opened presents under my adorably small Christmas tree, and then watched classic movies late into the night. It was a merry night, full of old and new things together.
The next morning, it was back to business as usual. Paris had returned from the holiday spirit and was in full swing for Monday. I took them to the Louvre(8) museum, to an exhibit about movement and dance in art. We also went through part of the mideval and greek sections. Just being in such a large palace took you back to a time when the things on display weren't just artifacts. Also, it being first thing in the morning, there were significantly less visitors. I do not recommend going in the middle of the day if you visit this museum! Next, we walked to the Seine river(9) for lunch on the river. The company that did the venue was bateaux parisiens, and they offer dinner and lunch cruises. It was very relaxing, and a different way to see Paris. The food, too, was delicious. Next, I took my parents to see the Eiffel tower(10), something I see much too often for it to be special. I walked along the Champ de Mars, and tried to take them to see the adorable area by my university, but we had to go back to their hotel. That night was mom's last night, and we visited some cafes before going back and talking until quite late. It was easy to forget we were in Paris while we talked.
While I did show them some of the more popular sights, I also tried to include a great amount of cultural education. For example, I believe that going to a real café in Paris is just a necessary as going to the Eiffel Tower. There were some other, more local knowledge that I felt obligated to pass on. It is essential knowledge that one does not put butter on a baguette because it is already buttery, and that the type of wine should perfectly correspond with the course you are eating.
Love all and happy holidays!
1 http://www.parisdigest.com/shopping/paris_shopping_arcades.htm
2 http://haussmann.galerieslafayette.com/en/galeries-lafayette-celebrates-an-extra-polar-christmas/
3 http://en.parisinfo.com/paris-museum-monument/71227/Opera-National-de-Paris-Palais-Garnier
4 http://www.notredamecathedralparis.com/
5 http://en.parisinfo.com/paris-show-exhibition/142388/marche-de-noel-des-champs-elysees
6 https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Place_de_la_Concorde
7 http://www.livinglanguage.com/blog/2011/12/19/a-traditional-french-christmas-dinner/
8 http://goparis.about.com/od/parismuseums/a/louvre-museum-history.htm
9 http://www.aparisguide.com/seine/
10 http://www.history.com/topics/eiffel-tower
Saturday, December 31, 2016
Friday, December 23, 2016
Switzerland
I flew in to Zurich in the morning.
As soon as I saw Alex, I was back in Korea. After all this time, nothing had changed. We spoke excitedly while we planned out the day. First on the list was to see the city. She told me more about some of its history as we walked past a glistening river. Spires peaked up from a sea of red-brown tiled roofs, drawing in curious wonderers. The white buildings, too, were painted festively to give color to the otherwise bleak November streets. We walked past some statues and a gold-gilded fountain, ending up at the steps of a church. The icy wind whipped around the corner as we went inside-from the top we can see all of Zurich. She pointed out where her village was in the hills. I laughed and thought about our climb to North Seoul Tower.
At the chocolate factory, we were more childish than the actual children. First you pick a chocolate, then you add your toppings and set it. You can decorate it in a variety of ways as well. I spoke a confused mix of English and French, and Alex translated everything for me since I didn't know German. After we made out chocolate bars, we had a tour of the factory and ate chocolate all along the way. On our way back we went to Arau, a smaller town in between cities. It was quite lovely and traditional, with large pine Christmas trees at every turn.
Back at Alex's home, we rested a bit while we talked. I knew everything in her bedroom that was from Korea, and we reminisced a bit. Meanwhile, downstairs her mother was cooking an early Thanksgiving dinner. Being American herself, she understood the importance of having a feast at least once a year (and I had missed mine last year too). After a while it smelled of thanksgiving: apples and cinnamon, stuffing and butter, potatoes and meat! My mouth was watering as the familiar scents wafting through the house. We all packed in and ate, talking about a great many things. It was almost like being back in the States for the holidays.
The next morning we discussed the plan. We would go to Luzern and another city, then to the airport. We walked around, exploring the cities. Luzern was in a different Cantone, and while we had lunch on a boat we looked over the glassy lake to some famous mountains. We sat in a café later, and it was easy to forget we were in Switzerland. Her mom drove us to the airport, and we stayed to eat dinner before my 8pm flight. I hugger her one last time and went through the gate, thinking it was sadder than the first time we said goodbye because I knew what I was missing.
Special thanks to Alex for letting me stay :)
As soon as I saw Alex, I was back in Korea. After all this time, nothing had changed. We spoke excitedly while we planned out the day. First on the list was to see the city. She told me more about some of its history as we walked past a glistening river. Spires peaked up from a sea of red-brown tiled roofs, drawing in curious wonderers. The white buildings, too, were painted festively to give color to the otherwise bleak November streets. We walked past some statues and a gold-gilded fountain, ending up at the steps of a church. The icy wind whipped around the corner as we went inside-from the top we can see all of Zurich. She pointed out where her village was in the hills. I laughed and thought about our climb to North Seoul Tower.
At the chocolate factory, we were more childish than the actual children. First you pick a chocolate, then you add your toppings and set it. You can decorate it in a variety of ways as well. I spoke a confused mix of English and French, and Alex translated everything for me since I didn't know German. After we made out chocolate bars, we had a tour of the factory and ate chocolate all along the way. On our way back we went to Arau, a smaller town in between cities. It was quite lovely and traditional, with large pine Christmas trees at every turn.
Back at Alex's home, we rested a bit while we talked. I knew everything in her bedroom that was from Korea, and we reminisced a bit. Meanwhile, downstairs her mother was cooking an early Thanksgiving dinner. Being American herself, she understood the importance of having a feast at least once a year (and I had missed mine last year too). After a while it smelled of thanksgiving: apples and cinnamon, stuffing and butter, potatoes and meat! My mouth was watering as the familiar scents wafting through the house. We all packed in and ate, talking about a great many things. It was almost like being back in the States for the holidays.
The next morning we discussed the plan. We would go to Luzern and another city, then to the airport. We walked around, exploring the cities. Luzern was in a different Cantone, and while we had lunch on a boat we looked over the glassy lake to some famous mountains. We sat in a café later, and it was easy to forget we were in Switzerland. Her mom drove us to the airport, and we stayed to eat dinner before my 8pm flight. I hugger her one last time and went through the gate, thinking it was sadder than the first time we said goodbye because I knew what I was missing.
Special thanks to Alex for letting me stay :)
Thursday, December 22, 2016
Fall break- pt 2
I was nervous at the airport. It had been several months since I had seen Ben, the first time since Korea. I looked at myself in the bathroom mirror, wondering what if he doesn't recognize me? All of my fears dissolved when I saw him grinning at the gate, and pull me into a hug.
Belgium was charming, full of cobbled paths and lively streets. Lanterns hung above high arching doors. Ben took me around before we caught a train to Dinant to visit his family. Between the rain in Scotland and the 6 am flight, having hot food and a nice bed was more than enough to make me happy.
It was nice to catch up, and to see an old friend. In the small town of Dinant we mainly ate and rested. I spoke to his family in broken French, and enjoyed the change of scenery. Paris was as far from sweet winds and rolling green hills as you could get.
Back in Brussels, I had some alone time in the student housing. Each student had their own room, with one common room/kitchen per floor. Blinking orange street lights lined the wall, and a stray metal sign leaned by the fridge. We established a routine: shopping in the morning, Ben cooking a practically gourmet lunch and then running off to class, and me packing up the rest for later and going to town. In the evenings I enjoyed a quality experience with the other students. There was a Japanese girl whose friend was also visiting from Paris. It turns out we go to the same school! I also met people from Marrakesh, Africa, and some other places.
There was an endless stream of talking, food, and movies each night.
After Ben showed me how to take the trams and busses, I could travel freely. I visited parks, monuments, museums, and lots of waffle shops.
The last night was bittersweet, I would miss Ben (and didn't want to go back to school). His mother came in to town for lunch, and then we went to the Atomium(1) at night. We said goodbye at the train station in the morning, me leaving with a bit of Belgium in my heart and a new conviction to see old friends again.
1- http://www.atomium.be/Practical.aspx
Other sights:
http://cheeseweb.eu/2013/09/visiting-porte-de-hal-museum-brussels-belgium/
https://www.brussels.be/artdet.cfm/5757
http://www.worldtravelimages.net/Brussels_Albertine.html
https://visit.brussels/en/place/Parc-du-Cinquantenaire
http://www.manneken-pis.be/en/
Belgium was charming, full of cobbled paths and lively streets. Lanterns hung above high arching doors. Ben took me around before we caught a train to Dinant to visit his family. Between the rain in Scotland and the 6 am flight, having hot food and a nice bed was more than enough to make me happy.
It was nice to catch up, and to see an old friend. In the small town of Dinant we mainly ate and rested. I spoke to his family in broken French, and enjoyed the change of scenery. Paris was as far from sweet winds and rolling green hills as you could get.
Back in Brussels, I had some alone time in the student housing. Each student had their own room, with one common room/kitchen per floor. Blinking orange street lights lined the wall, and a stray metal sign leaned by the fridge. We established a routine: shopping in the morning, Ben cooking a practically gourmet lunch and then running off to class, and me packing up the rest for later and going to town. In the evenings I enjoyed a quality experience with the other students. There was a Japanese girl whose friend was also visiting from Paris. It turns out we go to the same school! I also met people from Marrakesh, Africa, and some other places.
There was an endless stream of talking, food, and movies each night.
After Ben showed me how to take the trams and busses, I could travel freely. I visited parks, monuments, museums, and lots of waffle shops.
The last night was bittersweet, I would miss Ben (and didn't want to go back to school). His mother came in to town for lunch, and then we went to the Atomium(1) at night. We said goodbye at the train station in the morning, me leaving with a bit of Belgium in my heart and a new conviction to see old friends again.
1- http://www.atomium.be/Practical.aspx
Other sights:
http://cheeseweb.eu/2013/09/visiting-porte-de-hal-museum-brussels-belgium/
https://www.brussels.be/artdet.cfm/5757
http://www.worldtravelimages.net/Brussels_Albertine.html
https://visit.brussels/en/place/Parc-du-Cinquantenaire
http://www.manneken-pis.be/en/
Wednesday, December 14, 2016
When You Aren't There
It is a big fear that when you leave to travel, you will automatically be missing out on your loved ones' lives. That is not the case- with a little extra effort keeping up to date and in contact is not too big of a hurdle. The real challenge, and something less considered, is what to do when tragedy strikes. In lieu of a death, friends and family may congregate to console others and seek solace themselves.
This month of December was unfortunate enough to bring two deaths. I learned who was here to care for me, no matter where they are. New friends in Paris, family in the states, and old relations from Korea all were there. I found that it helps just to be alone, that the best way to remember somebody is simply by remembering, and that unexpected things can happen. After learning about the death of an old friend, I reconnected with somebody that I had fallen out of contact with over the years. Small niceties mean the world.
A word. A message. It does not take a lot to help somebody who is down. Life is simpler than it seems.
In memory of Daniel and Corky.
This month of December was unfortunate enough to bring two deaths. I learned who was here to care for me, no matter where they are. New friends in Paris, family in the states, and old relations from Korea all were there. I found that it helps just to be alone, that the best way to remember somebody is simply by remembering, and that unexpected things can happen. After learning about the death of an old friend, I reconnected with somebody that I had fallen out of contact with over the years. Small niceties mean the world.
A word. A message. It does not take a lot to help somebody who is down. Life is simpler than it seems.
In memory of Daniel and Corky.
Sunday, December 4, 2016
All Hallows Eve
Incidentally, that last night was also All Hallows’ Eve, and there was a special festival. Just light any other story, it was a dark and stormy night. We stood underneath the vaulted arches of the church and waited for it begin. A kindly woman explained to us, while we waited, how not to get 'painted red'. First out came the animals, scampering all about and clanging. They danced about until the nature folk- druids and the like- came forth to wander. Half were summer, adorned with fresh leaves and glittering green. The other half was winter, frosted with glinting ice. A woman leapt from the vine-wrapped stage, clinging to a black box. The top exploded, spewing purple light in the fading night. Red people came next, ripping up the streets with screams. Clothing hung off of their red bodies, wet with rain and glinting as they danced and jumped in celebration. We felt it coming before we heard it-the steady beats of drums and the crackle of fire. The soaked soles of my feet felt the rumbling ground as soldiers and torch-bearers solemnly marched forward to fill the gap.
Summer and Winter stood side by side, winter sucking the life from Summer as he knocked him down the steps and grabbed his face with thick hands. Winter stood victorious, and his men paraded. Black-clad warriors with broad swords and axes marched around, flaming balls and chains were thrown, and a procession of drums approached. Eventually, the forces of nature came back. The King of Winter ran though the King of Summer. Quickly, in surprise, he knelt down by his dead brother. The anguish on his face was clear as Death approached with his servants. A woman in white appeared and fought them off, kneeling down by the body of Summer. She handed Winter his glowing heart in her hands, and then the celebration began. This time, not of victory but of marriage. The scavengers brought forth the food provided by Summer as an offering for Winter and his new bride.
The folklore behind this:
http://www.educationscotland.gov.uk/scotlandsstories/brideandangus/storyangus/index.asp
Another version:
https://salemsmoon.wordpress.com/gods/the-horned-god-oak-king-holly-king-and-green-man/
Summer and Winter stood side by side, winter sucking the life from Summer as he knocked him down the steps and grabbed his face with thick hands. Winter stood victorious, and his men paraded. Black-clad warriors with broad swords and axes marched around, flaming balls and chains were thrown, and a procession of drums approached. Eventually, the forces of nature came back. The King of Winter ran though the King of Summer. Quickly, in surprise, he knelt down by his dead brother. The anguish on his face was clear as Death approached with his servants. A woman in white appeared and fought them off, kneeling down by the body of Summer. She handed Winter his glowing heart in her hands, and then the celebration began. This time, not of victory but of marriage. The scavengers brought forth the food provided by Summer as an offering for Winter and his new bride.
The folklore behind this:
http://www.educationscotland.gov.uk/scotlandsstories/brideandangus/storyangus/index.asp
Another version:
https://salemsmoon.wordpress.com/gods/the-horned-god-oak-king-holly-king-and-green-man/
Wednesday, November 30, 2016
Fall Break- pt 1
Breakfast. I ran back home. With my suitcase, I met my friends at the bus stop. It was fall break!
We took the tram, staring out the glossy windows and trying to see any glimpse of Edinburgh. We were already delighted with the heavy Scottish accents and friendly people. It was going to be a good few days. We went out to dinner after stopping off at our Hostel. It was themed like a medieval castle, and we took pictures with the suit of armor on the stairs. We walked past cobblestone streets and caught a view of the castle at the top of the hill. After a quick stop for Italian food, we decided to head back to the hostel and rest up for the next day.
We had big plans, lots of time, and a whole list of things to see and do before we had to return home. Starting with the castle, we had a wonderful view of the old city. It stretched onwards into an ocean of mist, and across a small valley we could see towers piercing the sky. Walking down the hill, we listened to bagpipe music and investigated around the town square and church. We traded stories while we meandered between small shops, hidden alleys, and closed-off paths. Eventually we made it to the Scott Monument, a gothic-style tower dedicated to a Scottish author. It was refreshing to simply see something and be able to investigate; Paris life is so rushed it is difficult to accommodate. We also walked to the new Parliament, the Royal Castle, and the base of King Arthur's Seat (which we would do the following day). On our way back up the somewhat torturous hill, we stopped and walked through a lovely garden. Despite the cold weather, the grass was green, flowers bloomed, and people were very much out and about.
The following day began with doughnuts, and then a hike. Feeling very much like city people as we took breathless breaks, the view (and breeze) was worth it. You were at the top of the world- wind whipping your hair while you looked over Edinburgh like you owned it. We frolicked in the lush fields, laughing and yelling. Our feet, so used to stamping over the sacred and well-worn concrete as so many other Parisians do, sprung happily on a bed of fresh grass. After that, and a quick break for baked potatoes, we hit up heritage shops and had a nice look at some markets. I also got to experience very un-Parisian prices at Primark and enjoyed eating some very hearty Scottish cuisine.
It is a grand city, with proud walls and lovely hidden secrets. It is quite unlike Paris; a refreshing and welcome change for the four of us jaded Parisians.
For the Scott Monument:
http://www.edinburghmuseums.org.uk/CMSTemplates/ScottMonumentVirtualTour/index.htm
Edinburgh Castle:
https://www.visitscotland.com/info/see-do/edinburgh-castle-p245821
Royal Palace:
https://www.royalcollection.org.uk/visit/palace-of-holyroodhouse
King Arthur's Seat:
http://kingarthursknights.com/theland/arthursseat.asp
We took the tram, staring out the glossy windows and trying to see any glimpse of Edinburgh. We were already delighted with the heavy Scottish accents and friendly people. It was going to be a good few days. We went out to dinner after stopping off at our Hostel. It was themed like a medieval castle, and we took pictures with the suit of armor on the stairs. We walked past cobblestone streets and caught a view of the castle at the top of the hill. After a quick stop for Italian food, we decided to head back to the hostel and rest up for the next day.
We had big plans, lots of time, and a whole list of things to see and do before we had to return home. Starting with the castle, we had a wonderful view of the old city. It stretched onwards into an ocean of mist, and across a small valley we could see towers piercing the sky. Walking down the hill, we listened to bagpipe music and investigated around the town square and church. We traded stories while we meandered between small shops, hidden alleys, and closed-off paths. Eventually we made it to the Scott Monument, a gothic-style tower dedicated to a Scottish author. It was refreshing to simply see something and be able to investigate; Paris life is so rushed it is difficult to accommodate. We also walked to the new Parliament, the Royal Castle, and the base of King Arthur's Seat (which we would do the following day). On our way back up the somewhat torturous hill, we stopped and walked through a lovely garden. Despite the cold weather, the grass was green, flowers bloomed, and people were very much out and about.
The following day began with doughnuts, and then a hike. Feeling very much like city people as we took breathless breaks, the view (and breeze) was worth it. You were at the top of the world- wind whipping your hair while you looked over Edinburgh like you owned it. We frolicked in the lush fields, laughing and yelling. Our feet, so used to stamping over the sacred and well-worn concrete as so many other Parisians do, sprung happily on a bed of fresh grass. After that, and a quick break for baked potatoes, we hit up heritage shops and had a nice look at some markets. I also got to experience very un-Parisian prices at Primark and enjoyed eating some very hearty Scottish cuisine.
It is a grand city, with proud walls and lovely hidden secrets. It is quite unlike Paris; a refreshing and welcome change for the four of us jaded Parisians.
For the Scott Monument:
http://www.edinburghmuseums.org.uk/CMSTemplates/ScottMonumentVirtualTour/index.htm
Edinburgh Castle:
https://www.visitscotland.com/info/see-do/edinburgh-castle-p245821
Royal Palace:
https://www.royalcollection.org.uk/visit/palace-of-holyroodhouse
King Arthur's Seat:
http://kingarthursknights.com/theland/arthursseat.asp
Wednesday, November 23, 2016
Growing Pains
I had a will. I had a way. I had a pretty good care for myself. I stared blankly at my phone screen; there was really no point, I realized. My grand plan, a plan to ask for permission was promptly cancelled. Instead, I informed my parents of my new decision. It was strange at first, then freeing. I realized I had taken the first step into really being an adult. I knew what I wanted to do, and how to do it. That was all to the story- there was nobody that I needed to ask permission from or argue my case to. I proceeded to make a life for myself, my own life based on things I truly cared about, because I could with a sense of completeness.
Thursday, November 17, 2016
Scandanavia Study Trip
A quick word about AUP- they have a great cultural program that includes study trips for hands-on learning. I signed up to learn about sustanability and humanities while going to Norway, Sweden, and Denmark.
Norway's policies were just like the country itself: practical. Equality in Norway is very good. Oslo is clean, and the group of us enjoyed our tour of parlaiment and the national gallery. We learned about the Ombud, a person who leads a non-government agency to ensure all faireness in many matters. It left me pondering the correct responses to world chrises, and the best way to give back. On our free time, we enjoyed walking in the city. The air seemed to have a different quality than in Paris, and even the sunlight was crist and clean.
The Norweigan Nobel Peace Prize Committee- https://www.nobelprize.org/nobel_prizes/peace/
Parlaiment- https://www.stortinget.no/en/In-English/About-the-Storting/
Ombudsmen- https://www.sivilombudsmannen.no/?lang=en_GB
Denmark was even colder, and the language that much more unintelligeble to us. Having already established a small group of friends, I spend most free time exploring the restaurant scene in the nearby meatpacking district. In Copenhagen our focus moved more to International Law and Sustainable Business. We visited some university lectures and special présentations. At night we sat around the bright common room of our hostel, watching the night unfold by the window. The bikes in Denmark were impressive, to say the least. During every excursion we did not worry about cars. We had to be careful for the bikes instead. The last day in Denmark, and of the trip, was a free day. My friends and I sat at a cafe with a map, planing out the best route: canal tour, castle ruins, walking street, Hans Christian Anderson Museum.
International Law- http://www.un.org/en/sections/what-we-do/uphold-international-law/index.html
Sustainable Business- http://sustainablescandinavia.com/
The day trip to Sweden was wonderful. We took a train across the ocean, looking above the waves. Our only stop on the map was Malmo, which had created the world's first 100% sustainable neighbourhood. The busses ran on gas produced by garbage, and every building was designed to benifit others. Additionally, every view included water, art, or a garden. We were walked throught the design to transform the entire city, and the process of creating such a sustainable neighbourhood for a world show. Malmo also houses Sweden's first skyscraper, and Sweden's tallest skyscraper.
Sustainable Malmo- https://crcresearch.org/community-research-connections/climate-change-adaptation-and-mitigation/malm%C3%B6-sweden-integrating-pol
http://depts.washington.edu/open2100/Resources/1_OpenSpaceSystems/Open_Space_Systems/Malmo_Case_Study.pdf
http://www.energy-cities.eu/db/malmo_579_en.pdf
Norway's policies were just like the country itself: practical. Equality in Norway is very good. Oslo is clean, and the group of us enjoyed our tour of parlaiment and the national gallery. We learned about the Ombud, a person who leads a non-government agency to ensure all faireness in many matters. It left me pondering the correct responses to world chrises, and the best way to give back. On our free time, we enjoyed walking in the city. The air seemed to have a different quality than in Paris, and even the sunlight was crist and clean.
The Norweigan Nobel Peace Prize Committee- https://www.nobelprize.org/nobel_prizes/peace/
Parlaiment- https://www.stortinget.no/en/In-English/About-the-Storting/
Ombudsmen- https://www.sivilombudsmannen.no/?lang=en_GB
Denmark was even colder, and the language that much more unintelligeble to us. Having already established a small group of friends, I spend most free time exploring the restaurant scene in the nearby meatpacking district. In Copenhagen our focus moved more to International Law and Sustainable Business. We visited some university lectures and special présentations. At night we sat around the bright common room of our hostel, watching the night unfold by the window. The bikes in Denmark were impressive, to say the least. During every excursion we did not worry about cars. We had to be careful for the bikes instead. The last day in Denmark, and of the trip, was a free day. My friends and I sat at a cafe with a map, planing out the best route: canal tour, castle ruins, walking street, Hans Christian Anderson Museum.
International Law- http://www.un.org/en/sections/what-we-do/uphold-international-law/index.html
Sustainable Business- http://sustainablescandinavia.com/
The day trip to Sweden was wonderful. We took a train across the ocean, looking above the waves. Our only stop on the map was Malmo, which had created the world's first 100% sustainable neighbourhood. The busses ran on gas produced by garbage, and every building was designed to benifit others. Additionally, every view included water, art, or a garden. We were walked throught the design to transform the entire city, and the process of creating such a sustainable neighbourhood for a world show. Malmo also houses Sweden's first skyscraper, and Sweden's tallest skyscraper.
Sustainable Malmo- https://crcresearch.org/community-research-connections/climate-change-adaptation-and-mitigation/malm%C3%B6-sweden-integrating-pol
http://depts.washington.edu/open2100/Resources/1_OpenSpaceSystems/Open_Space_Systems/Malmo_Case_Study.pdf
http://www.energy-cities.eu/db/malmo_579_en.pdf
Sunday, November 13, 2016
This City and How to Live in it
Paris is gold. Tan buildings rise high into the sky, the many stories and faceted windows beautiful but uneven like the butter-brushed layers of carefully baked pastries. Gilded archways, balconies wrought with black roses and delicate patterns built up from large wooden doors that make you feel like an ant.
Paris is glass and diamonds. Sunlight shining, shimmering, reflected from French windows standing proud. Light running bouncing off of car windows from motorcycle doors and glinting off of polished jewelry. The seine, the crown jewel, flows like liquid glass. It throws back twisted memories of gilded bridges, proud houses, museums, trees, and is that the Eiffel Tower in the distance?
Parisians are the people melting the gold, mining the diamonds. The people are a little rougher than the fine-hewn city itself. We scuttle underground in the metro, getting from A to B in the most efficient way. No matter how many warnings I have had about the rudeness of Parisians, I have never had one neglect to hold the door for me (and I return the favor). No, I don't worry about getting mugged in an alley while I am walking home. I am more worried about dying of boredom if I finish my book on the ride.
Paris.
Paris is glass and diamonds. Sunlight shining, shimmering, reflected from French windows standing proud. Light running bouncing off of car windows from motorcycle doors and glinting off of polished jewelry. The seine, the crown jewel, flows like liquid glass. It throws back twisted memories of gilded bridges, proud houses, museums, trees, and is that the Eiffel Tower in the distance?
Parisians are the people melting the gold, mining the diamonds. The people are a little rougher than the fine-hewn city itself. We scuttle underground in the metro, getting from A to B in the most efficient way. No matter how many warnings I have had about the rudeness of Parisians, I have never had one neglect to hold the door for me (and I return the favor). No, I don't worry about getting mugged in an alley while I am walking home. I am more worried about dying of boredom if I finish my book on the ride.
Paris.
Saturday, November 12, 2016
Exploring Paris- Gardens and Parks
When I closed my eyes it was easy to forget where I was. I smelled dark, moist earth and luscious green leaves; delicate purple flowers swaying in the brisk breeze; strong old wood of the trees which surrounded me. I walked along the stone path through tunnels of trees, weaving in between colorful patches of garden and wet grass. Each garden was arranged according to color, giving somebody the impression that they were walking along a rainbow. There were wooded paths, and a sky bridge running in between laden branches to my right. The distant sound of waterfalls tickled my ears. I turned left in the labyrinth, coming to the wide lawn which was reminiscent of the broad strokes of an artist. I blinked at the dazzling blue sky as sunlight glinted off of the massive glass greenhouse. It was a strange meeting place of plants, trees, glass, concrete, water, and people.
the parc andre-citroen: http://equipement.paris.fr/parc-andre-citroen-1791
I walked quickly, hugging the side of the building. Cold fingers tucked into the folds of the leather jacket which was acting as my second skin. I looked to my left, the buildings gone. There was a gate, a path, a garden. Plump foliage strained against the hold of the slender metal railing, reaching up to grasp the wind. I smelled roses briefly, like a hint of sweet in an ocean of savory. The ivy-clad walls were tall enough to block out the sounds of nearby traffic, and it was quiet except for my own footsteps. Above my head, beige dandruff floated from a tall tree. The fluffy material seemed to melt into the sight of the cloud, and for a second I was in the sky.
the local garden/square at rue de la tocqueville
the parc andre-citroen: http://equipement.paris.fr/parc-andre-citroen-1791
I walked quickly, hugging the side of the building. Cold fingers tucked into the folds of the leather jacket which was acting as my second skin. I looked to my left, the buildings gone. There was a gate, a path, a garden. Plump foliage strained against the hold of the slender metal railing, reaching up to grasp the wind. I smelled roses briefly, like a hint of sweet in an ocean of savory. The ivy-clad walls were tall enough to block out the sounds of nearby traffic, and it was quiet except for my own footsteps. Above my head, beige dandruff floated from a tall tree. The fluffy material seemed to melt into the sight of the cloud, and for a second I was in the sky.
the local garden/square at rue de la tocqueville
Thursday, November 10, 2016
Urban Survival
Field Entry.
I have been living the great urban jungle for two months now. This is the true fight against wilderness, and there are a few tricks of the trade I have picked up in order to survive. When on the street you learn a specific way of walking in order to avoid dangerous parts of the trail- garbage, bottles, runoff water, and dog poop are just a few obstacles. When waiting to cross a pavement river, always keep an eye (or two) on the metal monsters with wheels. They are unpedictable at times.
With no working data on my phone, navigation is key. If you gets lost, it might be the last thing you ever see. The natural indicators of direction, maps, grow on the back of bus stops. If you see a bus or a metro, you are saved! Another life saver is the wonderful oasis, the Parisian cafe! If you go to a cafe all of your needs can be satisfied. For a student, coffee is what flows through our veins.
These are some things you might need to know when going on your own expidition. Good luck.
Thanks for reading guys, between fall break and midterms I haven't been online much, but I'll start posting more. Merci!
I have been living the great urban jungle for two months now. This is the true fight against wilderness, and there are a few tricks of the trade I have picked up in order to survive. When on the street you learn a specific way of walking in order to avoid dangerous parts of the trail- garbage, bottles, runoff water, and dog poop are just a few obstacles. When waiting to cross a pavement river, always keep an eye (or two) on the metal monsters with wheels. They are unpedictable at times.
With no working data on my phone, navigation is key. If you gets lost, it might be the last thing you ever see. The natural indicators of direction, maps, grow on the back of bus stops. If you see a bus or a metro, you are saved! Another life saver is the wonderful oasis, the Parisian cafe! If you go to a cafe all of your needs can be satisfied. For a student, coffee is what flows through our veins.
These are some things you might need to know when going on your own expidition. Good luck.
Thanks for reading guys, between fall break and midterms I haven't been online much, but I'll start posting more. Merci!
Tuesday, October 25, 2016
Morning Walk
Some time during my first week in Paris I woke up unnecessarily early. After laying in my bed for several hours, I gave up and followed my restless feet outside. This is what happened.
The sun was glaringly bright for the morning. In my half sleep-walking state the amount of people, cars, and bikes around was astonishing. I stood in the street for a moment before taking off down the cracked sidewalk. As I took a deep breath of fresh air, I noticed something different. Maybe Paris was so far away from my own small town home that even the air was differ. Perhaps there was a certain je ne sais quoi about the city of lights. Suddenly, it hit me. The mystery, the magic, the bread! The entire French passage that I was strolling through smelled like fresh-baked bread. I could taste the golden butter, hear the crunch of delicately designed pastry layers. My mouth watered as I peeked at the baguettes every body carried like a fashion accessory. Rummaging in my pockets for some change, I rushed into the nearest bakery and struck up a friendly conversation with an employee while I surveyed rows of glistening chocolate ganache, buttery rolls and perfectly baked bread.
That event was my introduction to a very important French food group: bread. It sits near the top of the pyramid along with wine, cheese, and chocolate.
The sun was glaringly bright for the morning. In my half sleep-walking state the amount of people, cars, and bikes around was astonishing. I stood in the street for a moment before taking off down the cracked sidewalk. As I took a deep breath of fresh air, I noticed something different. Maybe Paris was so far away from my own small town home that even the air was differ. Perhaps there was a certain je ne sais quoi about the city of lights. Suddenly, it hit me. The mystery, the magic, the bread! The entire French passage that I was strolling through smelled like fresh-baked bread. I could taste the golden butter, hear the crunch of delicately designed pastry layers. My mouth watered as I peeked at the baguettes every body carried like a fashion accessory. Rummaging in my pockets for some change, I rushed into the nearest bakery and struck up a friendly conversation with an employee while I surveyed rows of glistening chocolate ganache, buttery rolls and perfectly baked bread.
That event was my introduction to a very important French food group: bread. It sits near the top of the pyramid along with wine, cheese, and chocolate.
Monday, October 24, 2016
Starting to Feel like Home
Third comes navigation. The ability to turn into a human map. Only learned by doing, failing, and repeating until the correct street is discovered.
Second comes language. A deep appreciation of every sleek and slender sound which is spoken. Immerse yourself in it; become a sponge.
Third comes lifestyle. To learn how to speed up and slow down on command. Observe carefully and take detailed notes.
My schedule allows for long, stretched-out breaks. No more than two classes per day, and only one on Wednesday. This is both a blessing and a curse, since I live too far away for it to be worth it to return home. With our urban split campus, it is impossible to ignore the bold cityscape which stares us all in the face. Over time, the buzzing and colorful streets transitioned from novel to familiar. My eyes clung to fountains, carved arches, flower baskets on balconies, and petit cups of espresso. I learned how to walk with purpose, how to savor my food, and how to manage time.
Small things, like studying with friends, conversing on the street before class, and going out for coffee or a bit to eat gave me somewhere to belong and something to do. I joined clubs, volunteered, and threw myself into the eager mass of students at the American University of Paris.
Second comes language. A deep appreciation of every sleek and slender sound which is spoken. Immerse yourself in it; become a sponge.
Third comes lifestyle. To learn how to speed up and slow down on command. Observe carefully and take detailed notes.
My schedule allows for long, stretched-out breaks. No more than two classes per day, and only one on Wednesday. This is both a blessing and a curse, since I live too far away for it to be worth it to return home. With our urban split campus, it is impossible to ignore the bold cityscape which stares us all in the face. Over time, the buzzing and colorful streets transitioned from novel to familiar. My eyes clung to fountains, carved arches, flower baskets on balconies, and petit cups of espresso. I learned how to walk with purpose, how to savor my food, and how to manage time.
Small things, like studying with friends, conversing on the street before class, and going out for coffee or a bit to eat gave me somewhere to belong and something to do. I joined clubs, volunteered, and threw myself into the eager mass of students at the American University of Paris.
Thursday, October 20, 2016
Orientation
My footsteps matched the rhythmic humming sounds of traffic as I soaked up rays of early morning sun. It was a short walk; I didn't want to wander too far and get lost before anything important happened. My roommates and I walked to the metro together, curious about our week of busy plans. Once we arrived at AUP I quickly realized how things would work. This was not waiting for instructions at a small high school in Korea, and all the choices we made here were on us. People were friendly, but busy. I already saw small social groups emerge in the crowded open halls of our building. I held conversations with anybody in my vicinity, and moved in the crowd seamlessly. I kept track of my books and tried to stay organized. Don't fall asleep during lectures and go out for hot coffee with new friends during the breaks. Most importantly, make sure to sit outside and enjoy the view.
I learned about clubs, cultural programs, insurance, accounting, immigration, transportation, and anything else they could think of. In the evenings social events were held. Before the week was done, I had made friends with all sorts of students and had gathered my bearings (and sense of direction) in Paris. At night I was tired but satisfied, like how one feels after a good and long-deserved meal.
I learned about clubs, cultural programs, insurance, accounting, immigration, transportation, and anything else they could think of. In the evenings social events were held. Before the week was done, I had made friends with all sorts of students and had gathered my bearings (and sense of direction) in Paris. At night I was tired but satisfied, like how one feels after a good and long-deserved meal.
Wednesday, October 19, 2016
First Meeting
After my friends left the apartment, it was quiet. I spoke quietly with my roommate who had also just settled in. I left to get lunch, and she was asleep when I came back. At the end of the hallway I found my suitcases where they had been left. My room was small, but nice. There were pictures of cherry blossoms on the wall; I thought it would suit me just fine. I knelt down on the hard wood floor and dumped out all of carefully packed and precisely folded clothes and belongings. I unpacked in silence until my other roommate arrived.
She sat on the unused bed while I walked across my room, adjusting this picture and that lamp just so. We laughed about the old days of high school, and I tried to remember my small town before Korea(1) or France. I could tell that she was tired, and eventually we broke away. I took a hot shower and she went to sleep. Once again, I had the house to myself. We had a nice kitchen with a washing machine, a small balcony with some chairs and dry plants, and a large sunny living room. My room was next to the walk-in closet. I closed the door and looked out the windows; golden light filled the room and the streets seemed as busy as ever. I snuggled up in the fluffy blankets. The pillow did not smell familiar, but it soon would. I did not think about the upcoming week.
1- you can find my blog about Korea with this link: http://emilyadventuresinkorea.blogspot.com
She sat on the unused bed while I walked across my room, adjusting this picture and that lamp just so. We laughed about the old days of high school, and I tried to remember my small town before Korea(1) or France. I could tell that she was tired, and eventually we broke away. I took a hot shower and she went to sleep. Once again, I had the house to myself. We had a nice kitchen with a washing machine, a small balcony with some chairs and dry plants, and a large sunny living room. My room was next to the walk-in closet. I closed the door and looked out the windows; golden light filled the room and the streets seemed as busy as ever. I snuggled up in the fluffy blankets. The pillow did not smell familiar, but it soon would. I did not think about the upcoming week.
1- you can find my blog about Korea with this link: http://emilyadventuresinkorea.blogspot.com
Tuesday, October 18, 2016
Welcome to Paris
I woke up happy. I rolled over my friend's fluffy blankets and looked up to the small window that was letting in pale gold sunlight. We went downstairs to have breakfast and I felt comically out of place. Staying at Lollye's house as well was a Taiwanese girl she met in Korea. The three of us made pleasant small talk while we ate toast and had coffee and tea. I looked out the window to the small garden. Even from inside, I could hear the rustling leaves and smell the sweet green grass. France seemed very peaceful.
While I dragged myself out of a tired haze to get ready upstairs, a sort of party had congregated in the living room. Several of Lollye's friends and her brother were talking and laughing, and were introduced to me in quick succession. I said hello in broken French and then joined our Taiwanese guest in the kitchen. On the short walk to the train station I got to know the group of French girls a little better. They all took my suitcases and laughed and talked like nothing was difficult in the world. I felt very taken care of. We played games on the train and I looked out the window with glossy eyes. The countryside that was dark the previous night was now full of lush trees and flowers, quaint buildings, cobblestone streets, and delicate street lamps.
My first impression of Paris was of the subway. It was crowded and cave-like. People ran in all different directions, and if you stepped out of line it was like being swept away by a strong current. My friends had taken my suitcases and promised to meet me at my apartment while I checked in at the school. Once I had ascended to the street level, it was a whole different world. On both sides of me were grand buildings, surrounded by velvet lawns and spread apart by a highway studded with lights. A golden dome stabbed at the blue sky to my left, and my friend pointed at it and advised that I go there some time. I turned around, once, and saw the Eiffel Tower rising from a concrete haze. She told me I would see it every day (later I would prove that she is not wrong) and took me down another road to find my school building.
Inside I spoke to people with ease. In the arched-ceiling hallways and rooms with French doors I stood and waited, and talked to strangers like they were old friends. After a certain point of traveling, every face seems familiar and warm. After a little hold-up at registration, I was off to my apartment! We took a shuttle across the city, and I had a little tour of all the best restaurants and famous shops while I looked out my little window. I saw the famous Arc de Triomphe and had the distinct impression that I was surrounded by a vast sea of important things.
While I dragged myself out of a tired haze to get ready upstairs, a sort of party had congregated in the living room. Several of Lollye's friends and her brother were talking and laughing, and were introduced to me in quick succession. I said hello in broken French and then joined our Taiwanese guest in the kitchen. On the short walk to the train station I got to know the group of French girls a little better. They all took my suitcases and laughed and talked like nothing was difficult in the world. I felt very taken care of. We played games on the train and I looked out the window with glossy eyes. The countryside that was dark the previous night was now full of lush trees and flowers, quaint buildings, cobblestone streets, and delicate street lamps.
My first impression of Paris was of the subway. It was crowded and cave-like. People ran in all different directions, and if you stepped out of line it was like being swept away by a strong current. My friends had taken my suitcases and promised to meet me at my apartment while I checked in at the school. Once I had ascended to the street level, it was a whole different world. On both sides of me were grand buildings, surrounded by velvet lawns and spread apart by a highway studded with lights. A golden dome stabbed at the blue sky to my left, and my friend pointed at it and advised that I go there some time. I turned around, once, and saw the Eiffel Tower rising from a concrete haze. She told me I would see it every day (later I would prove that she is not wrong) and took me down another road to find my school building.
Inside I spoke to people with ease. In the arched-ceiling hallways and rooms with French doors I stood and waited, and talked to strangers like they were old friends. After a certain point of traveling, every face seems familiar and warm. After a little hold-up at registration, I was off to my apartment! We took a shuttle across the city, and I had a little tour of all the best restaurants and famous shops while I looked out my little window. I saw the famous Arc de Triomphe and had the distinct impression that I was surrounded by a vast sea of important things.
Monday, October 17, 2016
Arrival
I stared out the small window and tried to see past the clouds that drifted much like my mind. Twelve hours before I got on this Boeing 747 I was frantically packing, and only six hours before that I was having a festive going-away party. The reality of my decisions had not quite sunken in by the time I landed. I had successfully graduated early after Korea, was about to attend a university I had never seen in a country I had never been to, and was about to begin yet another one year journey.
At the airport, I was greeted by my good friend Lollye (and Louna, her friend who accompanied her), we had been together in Korea, and now were united after several months. Since I had not eaten any real food for a substantial amount of time, we went to a restaurant before taking the train to her house about an hour outside of Paris. The food was warm and filling, and Lollye and Louna told me more about life in France and survival in Paris. With my mind numb from travel, I followed them from the delightfully friendly restaurant to the closest train station.
It was dark, but I looked out of the windows on the train. My forehead was pressed up against the cool glass and I watched streetlamps zing by. I wondered if it would be alright to fall asleep listening to the rhythmic flow of French banter.
At the airport, I was greeted by my good friend Lollye (and Louna, her friend who accompanied her), we had been together in Korea, and now were united after several months. Since I had not eaten any real food for a substantial amount of time, we went to a restaurant before taking the train to her house about an hour outside of Paris. The food was warm and filling, and Lollye and Louna told me more about life in France and survival in Paris. With my mind numb from travel, I followed them from the delightfully friendly restaurant to the closest train station.
It was dark, but I looked out of the windows on the train. My forehead was pressed up against the cool glass and I watched streetlamps zing by. I wondered if it would be alright to fall asleep listening to the rhythmic flow of French banter.
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