It is currently 7:30 am and I am sitting at Gate 56 at LAX, waiting to board for my flight to…Seattle. I woke up at 5 am, and my family braved the 405 bright and early (yes, there was still traffic) to drop me off at the airport. I’m running on four hours of sleep.
It’s been a while since I have flown domestically. If I remember correctly, the last time I flew domestically was also to Seattle, but of course, that time I was actually going to Seattle on vacation with my family the summer of 2006. That was also the last time I celebrated the 4th of July in America. My main impressions are that the check-in area is a zoo compared to the international terminal. Also, they have much better food options here in the domestic area. I’m pretty sure the international terminal, last time I checked (it’s been under construction for years), had no more than a coffee shop and See’s Candy Kiosk. Meanwhile, here there is probably a dozen restaurants including a giant Lemonade. I’m going to miss LA.
update { 8:15 PST}
I never thought that my first time traveling to Europe would be alone, but I can’t wait to be there, in Paris, hopefully still awake enough to meet everyone at the Welcome Dinner.
update { 12:30 PST}
Boarding has already started in Seattle. I’m still here catching my breath. Now I remember how much I hate domestic flights and connections. Although Delta has free wifi on domestic flights whoo!! However, being late (despite the view) meant running to the next terminal and skipping lunch. Back into the airplane I go, my back hurts already.
update { 13:10 PST}
First thing I notice after sitting down is a usb outlet in the seatback TV staring back at me. Hallelujah, I want to rejoice the unlimited battery stream but I’m strapped down. Oh well. 10 minutes to take off. Flight mode back on, no wifi this time around.
update { 8:20 CET }
I’m in the world’s most unnecessarily spacious airport. I dragged my carryons a good half mile to the subway…which took us to the baggage claim area, after which I spent another good half mile walking to the terminal where I would be picked up. But alas, while my connection flight was late, this flight was too early. So here I am, alone in Paris, looking absolutely ridiculous holding my luggage and reading about economic geography in the form of a printed out textbook. And playing a game with myself trying to guess who was American. (I’m pretty bad at this game). Time to get back to reading, Charles De Gaulle only has 15 minutes of free wifi. Where am I?
update { 16:40 CET }
In a continuation of the longest day ever, I am now taking a break from unpacking in my new home at Place Des Victoires. But first, backtrack.
As soon as the clock struck 10 am (Paris time), I journeyed over to the door where the CIEE representative was waiting for us. To my delight, there sat about half a dozen other tired Bruins, looking about as clueless as I was. We hit it off well. The taxi drive was eye-opening as well. Packed into the back seat with two other travel study students, I sat through the most expensive taxi ride I have ever been on. It came out to over 70 euros. Thats nearly $100. Good thing the ride into town was included in the program!
After sitting through some traffic that was suspiciously like the 405 (reminded me of home…in a bad way), I got my first glimpse of Paris. And boy oh boy am I glad there is a good metro system here, I would never be able to drive here! One by one we were dropped off. Slowly, I began to familiarize myself with the different arrondissements and relative locations of monuments and realized that I got really lucky. I am staying in the 1st arrondissements, a very central location within walking distance to the Royal Palace, the Louvre, the Opera, the Seine, the Arc de Triomphe, plenty of high end shopping, and most importantly, the CIEE Study Center. Finally we came to a large circle, and there I was, standing in front of giant green doors, an address and name in hand, and completely alone in the middle of Paris.
Luckily, a nice lady understood my broken French enough to direct me to the correct apartment. “C’est en face d’escaliers, il y a trois, mais c’est la porte en face de tu.” “Merci beaucoup,” I mumbled, two of my apparently four word large French vocabulary, the others being “oui” et “non.” Three trips up and down what seemed like endless spiral stairs later, I was at yet another door. I rang the doorbell and held my breath. Footsteps. A man opens the door. I pray that I made it to the right place. Jetlagged and terrified, I waved around my piece of paper with my host family assignment and tried (and failed) to blurt out a coherent sentence that would indicate who I am and who I’m looking for.
Long story short, I met the family, the Dad, mom, two daughters, ages 22 and 19, and son, age 14. They were overly friendly, speaking to me in English, helping my bring my stuff to my room and getting me water all the while constantly asking if I was fatiguée. I was indeed fatiguée. I was très fatiguée, I hadn’t slept since my three hour doze Thursday night California time. Shortly after I arrived, my roommate, who had arrived the night earlier, arrived as well.
Our first meal with the host family was a home cooked lunch. I felt very self-conscious and nervous, wondering what table manners and customs I should use. I found myself carefully observing what the family members did and using my best judgment. I also felt extremely awkward because I could do no more than answer oui ou non questions and had a hard time keeping up with even listening to the conversations around the table. I perfected the wide-eyed stare after a couple pathetic attempts of stringing together a sentence. I feel so uncomfortable, not because of my host family, but because I felt so helpless and incompetent. So this is what it is like not having the security of a fluent language. Fingers crossed that by the end of this month I can be as talkative as I would like to be around the table.
After lunch, one of the girls took us around the neighborhood, despite the rain. We splashed our way around the streets and within the hour-long walk I’m sure I at least caught a glimpse of every major monument in Paris. It was magical seeing these things for the first time, after staring so longingly at them in pictures for years. Everything was so close, I can see myself walking around the neighborhood all the time.
update { 21:30 CET }
As I type this, I feel my brain slipping away, so I apologize ahead of time for any typos that might appear. We are finally home after a long social event with all the students and hosts on this program. We started off at the CIEE office, but a ten minute walk from the apartment, where we were shown our soon-to-be classrooms, and walked over to a restaurant for dinner.
My first restaurant meal in Europe consisted of: an artisan caprese salad, pan fried chicken and creamy mashed potatoes with a magical tasting gravy, and pour dessert, strawberry panna cotta, a rich and dense brownie bite, and what seemed to be a cup of fudge. Good food and good company, with fun advice and suggestions from our new TAs, made up for the cold and dreary day. But now, I’m full, such food coma, so sleepy, can’t write. Good night, tout le monde! Bonne nuit, Paris.