A word about technology: it's amazing. I was able to Skype my friend, Laree, in Oregon last night, in real time, from halfway across the globe. The picture was a bit fuzzy, to be sure, and at one point she was frozen in a robotic, slow-motion strobe light effect, but it was still amazing to hear her voice (for free).
That being said, I've realized on this trip how reliant I am on technology. For one, I didn't have a phone for about three weeks. This made meeting up with people a bit of a crap shoot, agreeing on a time and place and hoping we would see each other. Like the olden days. During one such encounter I actually had to ask to use the phone at Pressbyrån, the equivalent of a Tobac or kiosk, call my other aunt to call the person I was trying to meet up with because I didn't have her number, then proceed to wait aimlessly for half an hour. A mobile phone. Such a fantastic invention.
Also, I didn't bring my memory card for my camera (stupid), so I've been limiting my pictures to about 40 per day before I can upload them to my computer. The good news is that, unlike film, I can always delete the bad ones and not waste any money.
Finally, the clunky, prehistoric-looking adapter for converting from European outlets overheats really easily, so I can only charge my computer - or any other electronic device, for that matter, for approx. 15 minutes at a time. Hence, if my posts have a lot of typos or sound poorly executed, it's because I don't have time to read over them before my computer dies.
All in all, it makes one grateful for modern conveniences.
Anyways, I've had an amazing time here thus far. Kelsey has been a great tour guide, helping me maneuver the streets of Paris (with the help of my handy-dandy pocket map). Yesterday we went to Montmartre. Too beautiful. I was ooh-ing and aah-ing the whole way up the hill and Kelsey kept saying, "Just wait; you're gonna die at the top." She was right. You can see all of Paris from the Sacre Coeur (the cathedral). It's fantastic. There was a guy there doing the most amazing tricks with a soccer ball I have ever seen. He was wearing Rasta- armbands, a doo-rag and a Guinea jersey, his body a tight ball of muscle. At one point he climbed up the lamp post by the railing overlooking the city, holding the football with his feet.
Afterwards, we shamelessly bought a couple of crepes and sat on a curb next to your stereotypical French artist. He had a mustache, a beret and a patterned sweater. Kelsey is great with the locals because her French is so good (and all French men want to talk to a pretty, American girl). Me, I just sit there and smile and nod, mostly. Although my comprehension is getting better already.
Then we had Chinese food. In Paris. So strange. Kelsey's friends who live here suggested it. Don't get me wrong, it was good Chinese food, but it was kind of hilarious to be eating Chinese food in a place with the best food I've ever had. Ah well.
Last night we went to a Jazz Club. It was by no means a swanky affair, but it was really cool that, on a Monday night, there would be a room packed full of people wanting to hear a jam session. Sitting there, listening to a middle-aged, bald man play the bongos like his life depended on it, I had to smile. I am in Paris, city of intellectuals. This is the place for me.
Oh, and before I go, I should probably say that my class seems great so far. Yesterday was orientation and everybody seemed really nice! Half of them seem to be from Yale, but we'll forgive them for that...
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