Thursday, February 17, 2011
Wednesday, December 1, 2010
Monday, November 15, 2010
Reckless Abandon
It is indeed a rainy season and the weather starts getting colder, just before the actual arrival of winter. I had a pretty interesting weekend (in the rain) in Brussels nonetheless. I was introduced to 'covoiturage.com' by Mariane, my good friend and now a host sister when I had an urge to divorce Paris. The plan didn't work out since I wasn't prepared for the ultimate unplanned, but it did happen 2 weeks later. I just decided on the spot when I could no longer stand working on my 5th essay in the same week. Paris was driving me a bit nuts...
I was in a car with 4 other strangers and 3 hours later the rain embraced me coldly in Brussels. Despite the 40 hr non-stop rain, which was sort of a downer, Brussels was still small. It's the size that perhaps really made me feel comfortable while holding an umbrella. I left a few CouchSurfing requests the day before the trip and received quite a prompt reply by a local. Sam became those among the first CS hosts I "surfed" with, after Egypt. Sam is not Egyptian, but I found his hospitality as much appreciated as those Egyptians. He did startle me a bit at first, though, with his tall build and timid personality, but he was indeed a good host...fully verified by me as his first surfer. :)
Unplanned was my plan. I ended up at a random housewarming party until late in the first night and ended up crashing at one of the 'covoituragers' (who I ended sharing the ride back to Paris in his blue Mini). The people there were relatively friendly and open-minded (not so much like Parisians), if I'm honest. I also ended up joining a free Saturday walking tour (in the rain) with random travelers at USE-IT (http://www.use-it.be), made informed thru CS. We walked hours from streets to alleys and ended with a stylish-looking mug of brews. I topped the day walking some more on my own under a black umbrella. Sunday was spent trotting some more around the city and visiting a few museums - Magritte Museum being one in particular. I was just blown by his mental artwork. They say "don't ask about waffles when in Brussels", I wound up having a few of them. Yum! Of course, I didn't miss another Belgian 'thing'. I was told Neuhaus is the the best chocolate in the country. Before heading to the blue Mini, I grabbed some back for my French host. I'm sure they've had enough of smelly cheeses.
Back to Paris and home almost 2 a.m., I was bound to have a new essay submitted in two days. It was brilliant!
A group photo taken at USE-IT office : 13 November 2010Sunday, October 31, 2010
Halloween, not for Paris!
I had long reckoned Halloween to be a sort of special day in Paris. Well, it kind of was, but less far than I'd expected. I spent the evening with "Walking Sunday", a weekly organized walking-tour by Science Po, at Cimetière du Père-Lachaise. I thought the visit was really appropriate for the day - cemetery and Halloween, but turned out it wasn't exactly the best time to pay a visit since everyone probably thought the same as I did. I shall go back alone again, perhaps on a snowy morning of Sunday. It must be a more pleasant and spooky visit. I didn't get to see all those famous graves - be it Chopin, Marcel Proust, Jim Morrison, Edith Piaf, Oscar Wilde - along with many other famous dead. We ended up having some drinks nearby (the graveyard) and I decided to catch a metro back for dinner.
Soon came the night, I was on my supposedly Casper costume I got (from the night I snuck in in my host brother's room when he was away). I was quite satisfied, with the additions of fake nails and black goggles - I was all set ready to go! It wasn't long after when I decided to come back home. A good 'buddy' of mine with some other friends of us went to this party (organized by International Affairs Association of Sciences Po) at a pub called Cap Rouge (23 Rue Mouffetard) in the 5th arrondissement. The place was a rat hole; there wasn't at all space to move. The most disappointing was probably the vibe; very few made an effort to jazz themselves up for the night and the place was rather dull. Between waiting for other friends and attempting to make the decision on where we were heading to, I realized I might best catch the last train home. The plan of going to ShowCase - the supposedly biggest Halloween party in Paris - was perished. We bid each other goodnight. I was back on the train in my costume thinking how more demoniac the night could have turned out had I been in Bangkok.
4 essays due this month. I guess I should go to sleep now. Another day off to muscle tomorrow!
*On the way back, I supposed the girls ,too, didn't have their best Halloween...
Soon came the night, I was on my supposedly Casper costume I got (from the night I snuck in in my host brother's room when he was away). I was quite satisfied, with the additions of fake nails and black goggles - I was all set ready to go! It wasn't long after when I decided to come back home. A good 'buddy' of mine with some other friends of us went to this party (organized by International Affairs Association of Sciences Po) at a pub called Cap Rouge (23 Rue Mouffetard) in the 5th arrondissement. The place was a rat hole; there wasn't at all space to move. The most disappointing was probably the vibe; very few made an effort to jazz themselves up for the night and the place was rather dull. Between waiting for other friends and attempting to make the decision on where we were heading to, I realized I might best catch the last train home. The plan of going to ShowCase - the supposedly biggest Halloween party in Paris - was perished. We bid each other goodnight. I was back on the train in my costume thinking how more demoniac the night could have turned out had I been in Bangkok.
4 essays due this month. I guess I should go to sleep now. Another day off to muscle tomorrow!
*On the way back, I supposed the girls ,too, didn't have their best Halloween...Sunday, October 24, 2010
Broken
2:15 a.m.
Fear was felt and the thought swirled into anxiety. It wasn't too certain; it was far yet it was monumentous. Powerless and small. Shattered by my own curiosity and relentlessness. Forsaken I have, but what was I to do to retain myself in the unchanged? Stray and swayed in inconsistency. I was stuck in dichotomy of what was thought to be absolute, the opposite was yet to be found.The mind was wandering about, but must one know where he stood? Weak and powerless. The proud is stumbled in self-defeat. It peaked and slowly remedied. Another day was yet to come and it went on.
Fear was felt and the thought swirled into anxiety. It wasn't too certain; it was far yet it was monumentous. Powerless and small. Shattered by my own curiosity and relentlessness. Forsaken I have, but what was I to do to retain myself in the unchanged? Stray and swayed in inconsistency. I was stuck in dichotomy of what was thought to be absolute, the opposite was yet to be found.The mind was wandering about, but must one know where he stood? Weak and powerless. The proud is stumbled in self-defeat. It peaked and slowly remedied. Another day was yet to come and it went on.
Saturday, October 16, 2010
Underground Stories
In spite of its untidy and rarely a piss-like smell, I still find my underground travels in Paris quite enjoyable. I remember taking a train (RER B) for the first time from Charles de Gaulle airport to my residence near La Defanse and how much I enjoyed an accompanied sound of violin strung by an old man. There are many real talents out there both under and on the streets of the city, and I quite like them as far as I don't end up tipping involuntarily.
I was in St. Michel metro station the other day, and a recognizably Southeastern European lady stood just after the yellow line on the opposite side and started to sing a supposedly her traditional folk song loudly. Though understandably pestered by some in the crowd, I found it rather intriguing - hence stood watching for some minutes and missed a couples of trains as a result. In the train moments after, I managed to have myself comfortably seated and started to read a newspapers I grabbed from the campus. There, I again heard a familiar song sang by a lady. As she walked closer did I recognize her to be one of the Roms begging for money. Shunned by almost all the passengers she was trying to solicit from, I, also, felt contemptuous towards what was happening at first. But as she went on begging sadly, I started to felt sympathetic for her. I don't want to carry on talking about the whole Gypsies situation in France, but I simply think they deserve some space and acceptance from the people, especially the Parisians. We really live in the capitalism, don't we?
Just yesterday when I was walking down the metro to catch a train home, again, I was struck by an assembly of happy musicians who were musing their instruments and singing in harmony. It's seemed to me that there is no better way to travel to and from Paris than descending down its busy underground.
I was in St. Michel metro station the other day, and a recognizably Southeastern European lady stood just after the yellow line on the opposite side and started to sing a supposedly her traditional folk song loudly. Though understandably pestered by some in the crowd, I found it rather intriguing - hence stood watching for some minutes and missed a couples of trains as a result. In the train moments after, I managed to have myself comfortably seated and started to read a newspapers I grabbed from the campus. There, I again heard a familiar song sang by a lady. As she walked closer did I recognize her to be one of the Roms begging for money. Shunned by almost all the passengers she was trying to solicit from, I, also, felt contemptuous towards what was happening at first. But as she went on begging sadly, I started to felt sympathetic for her. I don't want to carry on talking about the whole Gypsies situation in France, but I simply think they deserve some space and acceptance from the people, especially the Parisians. We really live in the capitalism, don't we?
Just yesterday when I was walking down the metro to catch a train home, again, I was struck by an assembly of happy musicians who were musing their instruments and singing in harmony. It's seemed to me that there is no better way to travel to and from Paris than descending down its busy underground.
Sunday, September 26, 2010
Sciences Po
It's been 2 weeks of the first semester at Sciences Po - the institution of prestige - amidst Paris. I have found myself adjusting quite a bit with a uniquely tough assessment and teaching method here. Each of the 5 classes, out of 7 which I'm taking this semester, requires the presence the famous exposé or oral presentation, apart from long essays, and, in some instances, fiche technique or fact-sheets analysis. I have fortunately, at this very point, given 3 different exposé, one of which required 40-minute talk and had already amounted 40% of one of my final grades. Understandably, with a scarcity of time and energy, I wasn't able to pull off my best. I hope they weren't too bad, though.
Being among the exchange students and not being able to speak sufficient French, I have hardly been associating with the French students and got to learn about their culture as much as I expected. Let alone my French; it's still going nowhere. I should commit more with it as I go. I should! Students here, especially the exchange batch, are made up of those from many top schools all over. As such, I'd initially felt a bit intimidated and unqualified. The city itself becomes my comfortable asylum. Often I felt fortunate to have been given an opportunity to be here, live with a local family, and, at the same time, study in a place where everybody would 'wow' if asked where I go to. Oh and I'm starting to work soon, too. :]
Time flies by so quickly that I haven't seen an obvious progress nor change - not my French - to say the least. Cliché as it sounds, but why not seize every opportunity given for I wouldn't suffer in the end. The weather has gone under 20 in the past few days. I'm expected, at least, a new physical change, very soon.
Being among the exchange students and not being able to speak sufficient French, I have hardly been associating with the French students and got to learn about their culture as much as I expected. Let alone my French; it's still going nowhere. I should commit more with it as I go. I should! Students here, especially the exchange batch, are made up of those from many top schools all over. As such, I'd initially felt a bit intimidated and unqualified. The city itself becomes my comfortable asylum. Often I felt fortunate to have been given an opportunity to be here, live with a local family, and, at the same time, study in a place where everybody would 'wow' if asked where I go to. Oh and I'm starting to work soon, too. :]
Time flies by so quickly that I haven't seen an obvious progress nor change - not my French - to say the least. Cliché as it sounds, but why not seize every opportunity given for I wouldn't suffer in the end. The weather has gone under 20 in the past few days. I'm expected, at least, a new physical change, very soon.
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