Reflection on FETE DE LA MUSIQUE

Thursday, June 24th, 2011
     Last night was the most intense, largest music festival I've ever experienced. Grant Carter, a very skilled musician himself, Sarah J., Brittany, and Erin Hong and I picked up some sparkling wine, enough beer to sustain us until the 7 AM end time of the concerts, and some Guinness, as a treat when I can still legally buy it. We were planning on meeting up with Erin McCabe, and her sister who just arrived in Paris for a short vacation, Brian and Henry, and Yifan and his roommates. Knowing the crazy scattering of all of our apartments and dorms throughout Paris, I'm not sure why we thought that'd be successful whatsoever. We, living a seven minute walk from the Eiffel Tower, heard many of the bigger bands would be playing there, so offered everyone to come to our apartment before. Doesn't sound like the best idea after the noise complaint we received from our Canadian neighbor the other day. Luckily, everyone could not get their plans in time for us to meet up. Sarah, Grant, Brittany, and I were getting far to antsy to be missing the biggest music festival of the year, so we left by eight o' clock. Probably for the best, as the streets of Paris were crowded and it would have been possible to keep track of our group. We saw at least eight different performances with small crowds of people on our way to the Eiffel Tower. There were all sorts of genres differing from street corner to corner in French and English. We finally made it to the Eiffel Tower, but was rather disappointed as the two different performances there were just the Native American wind instruments we'd been hearing every time we walk through the Chatelet and Montparnasse metro stations. Grant probably would have made some serious euros if he'd brought his guitar and broke out his classics before he was dismissed from the Eiffel Tower by the police a few weeks prior. Really cut into his 80 - 100 euro a night income..We enjoyed the glimmering Eiffel Tower sparkles for a few minutes before mapping out a strategic tour of Paris. We made the best decision of experiencing the metro line 10 when it stays open all night long. It typically closes at 2 AM on the weekends, and reopens at 5:30 AM..perfect timing for those all night clubs! We finally reached our destination after being on a crowded metro train with shouting Parisians and Americans singing the best French songs and downing their whiskey and schweppes and seeing each person literally carrying their own bottle of rose wine. Where else rather than the Saint Michel area by the Sorbonne, where ALL the students would be gathering, to go for the greatest music festival of all time. When we finally reached it, we searched in the crowd for Marshall and his roommate Cameron, who were assets to our group as they were able to lead us to a few excellent finds in the crowded streets and as they were boys, they were able to deter many of the drunken men around us. Brittany and I were definitely getting our dance on in the streets of Paris. We've finally become more authentic European dancers, dancing delicately and calmly by ourselves, rather than up and close with a dance partner, like they do back in America. Really helps get less stares, especially when you're dancing in the damp streets of Paris. Dancing in the rain. Check! After wandering around and adding a few international and Parisian students to our group along the way, we somehow stumbled upon our favorite bar, the River, only to find the infamous Dr. Del Rio outside!! So far, all great nights have ended there. Hanging out with a professor singing and dancing to R.E.M.'s Losing My Religion with a Guinness in hand at 1 AM only can happen in Paris. A little awkward though when you see some students from USD far too drunk for their own safety embarrassing themselves in front of their very own professor and Parisians. Not the best situation. People really make stupid decisions when drinking, but they clearly got to that point by consuming the alcohol. The girl went to the extent of criticizing the professor and a few students sharing a cigarette outside the pub. 1) We're in Paris, once of the biggest smoking countries in the world. 2) Although I do not condone smoking whatsoever, sharing one cigarette with a few close friends in Paris, will probably not kill anyone, especially if you've had less than twenty cigarettes in your lifetime. Apparently this girl was feeling lightheaded in the metro station, fell into the tracks. Good thing the trains weren't coming as often as they typically do and we're spaced out by at least ten minutes so some heroic man had time to grab her out of the tracks in time. She ended up in the hospital with a few slight injuries. So I've heard. I've been warning my friends the entire time of these drunken times of invincibility. My mom's coworker's son studied abroad. Tried to get to the other platform by crossing the train tracks, but he wasn't as lucky. The train paralyzed him and severely damaged his brain/ skull. Not the proudest moment for a mother to have to fly to Europe to transport her nearly dead son home. Another girl in my Art History class shared how she saw a guy fall into the tracks last night, his arm was ripped off by the train, then he was crushed by the train. Sad to think how lives can be so drastically changed by such a sporadic accident.
     Always better to stay in control, especially in a foreign country, and at the fete de la musique. The festival we've been warned about for pick-pocketing and craziness throughout all the streets. It was craziness indeed. Drunk Parisians we befriended at the bar trying to lure us to another bar when the men in our group decide it's time for us to head out. Only 4 AM. Typical, right? Even with the metros open it took us about an hour to get home as we still did have our last Art History class at 9:30 AM. Then the crazy stories started ensuing. Travis, Dan, Jacob, and Conrad called us begging to come over. They said they'd explain once they get here. Weird when a group of strong college boys don't feel safe in their own apartment. Apparently their roommate, Yifan, was left behind that night in his apartment and must have felt a little rejected for the violent act he pulled upon Dan when they returned late that night. All the pieces began falling together when we heard the intensity of the situation from the boys fist hand involved and the intensity of the emails from CEA the following morning. It clearly made sense as to why he wanted to meet up so badly with my group, but it's strange he didn't come to our apartment when we invited him, considering how close it was to where we all wanted to head for the festival. I don't feel like Yifan was bullied or left out of the group. His roommates may have had too much to drink and got lost in the music forgetting about any worries. It happens all the time with my group when we venture around the city..except we're obviously more cognizant of our fellow girlfriends in the group and making sure we're together as boys are boys, less often the victims. It's scary to think that someone who I've grown so close with in Paris and Brugges is capable of hiding a knife in his room and threatening another friend with it over something so seemingly petty. Reminds me of the infamous case in which a the girl was killed by her drunken roommates during an international study abroad program in Florence. It's scary how such seemingly innocent people can get to such a level where they need to resort to violence. It's scary that Yifan could scare his close friends so seriously. Horrible ending to such an epic trip in Paris. Yifan sent me a message at 1:30 PM today and I was shocked to hear from him. He seemed so casual and calm telling me how he sorry he was for not being able to meet up with my roommates and I, how he'll tell us about how "it got real" last night, and how he'll tell me about it tomorrow. Ending all of this simple, seemingly caring message with a smiley face. It's crazy how he tries to play off such serious situations, but he still feels the need to let anyone who will listen know something is going on so you'll ask him more about it. I think he wants the attention and will do anything he can to get noticed. I don't know if he realized the immensity of what he tried to pull. I truly think he is unsure of himself and is searching for friends for reassurance. It hurts me to not be able to respond in fear of becoming involved in the situation legally. The legal system is so complex and different here in Paris. It would not be worth it to risk. The responses from the CEA coordinators really scare me informing me to forward on all contact Yifan tries to make and how to not agree to meet up with him nor to let him into my apartment under any circumstances. It's apparently for both of our safety. I still can't grasp the immenseness of the situation, especially as we were planning on getting together that night. I want to and do feel sorry for the situation Yifan jumped into so quickly, but he was hoarding a knife in his room and attempted to use it against another friend. I really need to get my mind of the intensity of last night and the misinterpretations of actions and words that clearly occurred. It seems like his wealth was too much to handle sending him to his downfall, like many great celebrities. Hopefully, he's able to learn from this and to have severe consequences to his actions. Money cannot always buy your friends and happiness, but I feel like he has not been able to realize that as it's been seemingly successful for his thus far. I am definitely praying for his well being tonight and that he's able to get the help that he needs.   

Treasure #3 - Latin Quarter/ Gay District

     For my final treasure, I wanted to write about somewhere that I’ve spent the majority of my time in Paris, outside of the museums. Somewhere that I’ve always been eager and more than willing to go visit after class. This would be the famous Latin Quarter/ Gay District not too far from CEA. After Sarah Jorgensen introduced me to the best Falafel place ever in the world and a few vintage shops, I’ve been wanting to go back for the savory meals, deserts, and pastries, the dainty tight shops, the crowded vintage stores, and the authentic French soap. I’m dying to buy what smells like what I would imagine to be lavender apple, although I’m not quite sure, as it’s all in French, meaning it must be good. This is also the area where I found the best scrambled eggs I’ve ever eaten in my life. They seemed light and fluffy, with the perfect touch of butter and splash of milk. They were lightly sprinkled with a hint of Parmesan cheese and embedded with spinach and asparagus throughout. Seemingly so simple, but so delicious. They definitely focus on quality, not quantity here in Paris.

     The Latin Quarter is in the 5^th and 6^th arrondissements in Paris, on the left bank of the Seine River, pretty close to the Sorbonne University. The Quartier Latin name derives from the Latin language, which was widely spoken in the Middle Ages in and around the University. The Latin Quarter is known for student life, lively atmosphere, and bistros – the affordability is definitely what draws myself and fellow international students, budget travelers, and artists. It apparently used to be significantly cheaper a few years ago, but the prices have risen with it’s trend factor. We’ve still found numerous great and inexpensive places to eat and plenty of bars and nightclubs after hours. The river, Sarah’s and my favorite pub, around the Sorbonne, sells pints of Guinness for four euros during Happy Hour, which goes until 22 (10 PM) on some nights, an hour later than most other bars and bistros. This is definitely the best deal we’ve found around the city. We can also get a massive falafel sandwich for lunch that will keep you full far past dinner for only five euros from L’As du Falafel. It’s glorious enough where you need to even skimp on your breakfast before going to be able to devour such a colossal amount of food, which you’ll have to do regardless of how you plan your eating schedule that day for how delicious it is.. guaranteed budget saver. The falafel balls almost taste like meatballs for how perfectly prepared they are. Even a meat-lover hesitant of vegetarian meals would thoroughly enjoy the falafel, as it’s warm and delicious on the inside, but crispy on the outside. It has diced cucumbers, eggplant, cabbage, tomatoes, onions, and numerous other yummy little vegetables diced throughout the massive, fluffy pita pillowcase. The pita was finally topped with a creamy red, spicy, yogurt, and Tahini sauce. Spicy anything gets itself ten more points than it would have otherwise. I’m very intrigued by the quality of the chicken schawarma here, but am too scared to veer away from the falafel knowing we only have about two more lunches here in Paris.

     Aside from the food in the Latin Quarter, I also enjoy sitting outside or on a street corner, which is sometimes necessary to do when the falafel place is too full, as there’s tons of people to watch here! So many different languages are spoken across the street. I can even understand some Spanish!  

     Here’s some history on the Latin Quarter and how it came to be what it is today. After the Romans conquered the Parisii tribe in 52 BC and took up residence on the Ile de la Cité, they extended their settlements gradually along the Left Bank of the Seine. They eventually reached what is now Mount St-Geneviève, which got its name from the brave girl that banded the Parisians together during the barbarian raids. The Romans built a Forum, a theater and amphitheater, an aqueduct, thermal baths, as well as laying main roads through the area, including today’s Rue Sainte Jacques, where Yifan, Conrad, Travis, and Jacob from my class live! Traces of this ancient era still remain today, especially at the nearby Cluny Museum, site of an ancient Roman thermal bath.

     In the 12th century, the University of Paris located itself in the old Notre-Dame cloister on the Left Bank. In 1253, Robert de Sorbon founded a school, the Sorbonne, for the poor that eventually became internationally reputable. It has been a powerful center of learning throughout its history.The Latin Quarter got its name because Latin was spoken there, being the official language until 1793. The university tradition lives on in this neighborhood. For example, in May 1968, the famous student protests occurred here.
     There's many famous site around here. The Pantheon is near by, located on the top of Mt. Sainte Geneviève, looking out over all Paris. In this quaint historic area, there's numerous cafés, restaurants, theaters, and little French bookshops.

Treasure #2 - Omaha Beach & bike ride

     I've been really thinking about what to write about for my last two treasures and haven't come across much more that I have enjoyed more than our bike adventure from Bayeux to Omaha Beach to see the infamous American Cemetery. There is a ton of history at this cemetery as it's were a large portion of WWII culminated. The Normandy American Cemetery and Memorial in France is located on the site of the temporary American St. Laurent Cemetery, established by the U.S. First Army on June 8, 1944 and the first American cemetery on European soil in World War II. Rosettes mark the names of those since recovered and identified. When I was looking at 1,557 names on the Walls of the Missing in the semicircular garden, it was a very moving experience to be in the place where many of these valiant soldiers lost their lives as proud Americans to protect their loved ones back home. I think it’s just an honorary privilege for France to grant the United States of America all of the soil in which the cemetery lays on in honor of the American soldiers in their assistance of freeing France from German occupation. The cemetery site, at the north end of its ½ mile access road, covers 172.5 acres and contains the graves of 9,387 of our military dead, most of whom lost their lives in the D-Day landings and ensuing operations. Over 10,000 American families are emotionally tied to this site and it’s moving to see all of the red, white, and blue flowers, ribbons, photo frames, etc. embellishing a majority of the cemetery stones. Considering how quickly flowers die when placed outside in the rain, many of the tombs were still decorated. This really conveys how often distraught families, friends, and lovers come to the cemetery to reflect on the life of their lost loved ones. The rain pouring down adding a layer of water to each tombstone seemed like god was shining down over and protecting the souls of each and every lost soldier. It was a very moving experience being here as many different languages were spoken, showing how D-Day was not merely a significant day in American history, but a day part of the history of nearly every country involved in the war. I noted this in my journal last Sunday when reflecting on the trip, but I really wish I had the time to go visit Sword Beach, where my father’s uncle, General Maskell was buried. He was a true hero apart of the valiant elite British commando and was dropped down with a few other soldiers the night before the big D-Day attack in Normandy. Unfortunately, him and many others did not survive this great feat and sacrificed their lives for both the welfare of Great Britain and America, as well as France, overall.

     Omaha Beach is the code name for one of the five sectors of the Allied Invasion of German-occupied France in the Normany landings on 6 June 1944, during World War II. The beach is located on the coast of Normandy, France, facing the English Channel, and is five miles long, from east of Sainte-Honorine-des-Pertes to west of Vierville-sur-Mer on the right bank of the Douve River estuary. Landings here were necessary in order to link up the British landings to the east at Gold Beach with the American landing to the west at Utah beach, thus providing a continuous occupation on the Normandy coast of the Bay of the Seine. Taking Omaha was to be the responsibility of American army troops, with sea transport provided by the U.S. Navy and elements of the Royal Navy of the United Kingdom. My great uncle in Sword Beach was apart of the Royal Navy. It’s so interesting to learn about an event so crucial to the histories of both my parent’s heritages and see two very different countries working together as a team for a common goal of defeating the German forces in an unexpected attack. For America, the primary goal at Omaha was to secure a five mile depth length on the beach linking with the British landings at the eastern Gold Beach and reaching the western area of Isigny to link up with VII Corps landing at Utah Beach. The 352^nd German Infantry Division opposed the landings, but lacked regimental training or combat experience.

     On D-Day, the untested 29^th US infantry division and nine companies of US Army rangers redirected from Pointe du Hoc were to assault the western half of the beach and the 1^st infantry division, whom were very experienced with battle, was given the eastern half. The initial assault waves, consisting of tanks, infantry, and combat engineer forces, were painstakingly planned to reduce the coastal defences and allow the larger ships of the follow-up waves to land.

Of the 12,020 men of the German division, only 6,800 were experienced combat troops, detailed to defend a 53 km front. The Germans were largely deployed in strongpoints along the coast—the German strategy was based on defeating any seaborne assault at the water line. Nevertheless, Allied calculations indicated that Omaha's defenses were three times as strong as those they had encountered during the Battle of Kwajelein in the Pacific and it had four times as many soldiers.

Very little went as planned during the landing at Omaha Beach. Difficulties in navigation caused the majority of the landing craft boats to miss their targets throughout the day. The defenses were unexpectedly strong, and inflicted heavy casualties on landing US troops. Under heavy fire, the engineers struggled to clear the beach obstacles; later landings congested around the few channels that were cleared. Weakened by the casualties taken just in landing, the surviving assault troops could not clear the heavily defended exits off the beach. This caused further problems and consequent delays for later landings. Small penetrations were eventually achieved by groups of survivors making improvised assaults, scaling the bluffs between the most heavily defended points. By the end of the day, two small isolated footholds had been won, which were subsequently exploited against weaker defenses further inland, thus achieving the original D-Day objectives over the following days.

In the end, the Germans were defeated, with many casualties on from all the countries involved.

I was really moved by being in the Cemetery and observing the chilly coast where this horrid, but valiant event took place. After touring the visitor's center and learning so much about the attack, it was surreal to be present on those very beaches and having the wind blow through my hair just trying to imagine what it was like to be there.

Fête de la Musique

Tuesday, June 21st, 2011
     Today, we were privileged enough to have a breakfast picnic with my Art History class outside of Luxembourg Gardens. Definitely did not mind returning there as it's one of my favorite places in Paris. I've noticed the atmosphere changes from day to day. Every day I've been there, there's been a TON of runners. I wish I would have found this park when I was in the peak of my work out/ running phase - before I kind of gave up on it and decided to indulge in the pastries. I was also hesitant about getting lost in Paris, running alone because the only boys I know who run here are quite fast and run marathons, so that would have been interesting to join them.., and having to stop for cars when running around the city would have driven me crazier than it does when I have to stop when walking. Also, having to be aware of my surroundings, by turning down my headphones, would have just been too much of a hassle. It's not like me clothes are fitting tighter yet, so I should be in the clear upon returning to sunny San Diego in two weeks to kick off my beach season! The first time I went there with both Erins (McCabe and Hong) and Brittany Ford, it was an early afternoon during the week, so many businessmen were picnicking and reading by the pond and it seemed more as a place to relax and take a lunch break from the hectic work day in the crowded Paris, rather than meeting friends and family there to socialize. On this past Sunday, when I went with Erin Hong, Brittany Ford, Phillip Guichet, and Phillip's three friends from high school, Chip, Stefan, and Lauren, it was much more of a family day. There was an older crowd playing chess on the cement tables and many children playing with sail boats in the pond and pushing them around with a wooden rod given to them when renting the boats. There were many fathers and mothers giving their children piggy back rides and many grandparents strolling with their families around the part. Today, we were there for breakfast by the large pond by 9:30 AM, after another hectic metro train ride with lots of pushing and shoving to get on the train, hands reaching in my personal space to grab onto a bar to prevent the embarrassment of falling during the accidental and failed metro "surfing," and lots of sweating. We finally reached the gardens and were greeted by many runners getting in their morning jog before work. The sprinkling and cold morning really inspired me to go on a run, but I figured I haven't been on one thus far, so why start now, when there's so much I need to do before my departure to London this Friday. There were much less people sitting in the forest green chairs scattered throughout the pond, but a ton more walking and running to get their exercise. Still relaxing and a good mental health break, just a different kind.
     Erin McCabe and I ventured down to Bon Marche, the massive department store, much similar to a Saks Fifth Avenue or a downtown Nordstroms in a ritzy neighborhood. So many sparkly lights, mirrors, and massive white walls. The clothes, purses, make up, lingerie - basically everything in the store - was stunning. The beauty and busy-ness of it kind of reminded me of Harrod's in London. I almost fell in love with a beautiful mustard Belle (from Beauty and the Beast)-like dress, until I glanced at the 3500 euro price tag. Motivation to follow my dreams of becoming a doctor right there.. We saw them setting up many bins in the lingerie department that appeared to be what they toss sale items in for big sales to force the customer to work for their discounted items. Erin and I decided to come back tomorrow during the apparently massive, Black Friday-like, Parisian style sale. Can't wait to see what it has to offer and if we'll be able to afford anything at all. It's interesting how they're having the biggest sale of the year the day after the Fete de la Musique concert, like we have Black Friday sales the morning after Thanksgiving - both are events that any Parisian, or American, has to celebrate to be apart of that culture.
      Erin and I ventured around the shops we spotted on our way to Bon Marche with our Art History class and found a few stores that we're marking clothes down for tomorrow right before our eyes! Found a super cute, French looking flower printed tank top and royal dress. Erin got a matching dress but in turquoise and another belted one in pink! Both were very French looking! It helped to converse with the sales attendants in the little French Erin knew and for me to be respectful in English, as when I politely asked if anything would be marked down tomorrow, we were given discounts off of the clothes, even though our sizes would have definitely been gone it we waited until tomorrow. We later encountered a very rude sales woman, who although there were beautiful clothes in her stop, we could not encourage her attitude, so we left the store with an "non merci, au voir." Kill them with kindness. I also found a beautiful black leather biker jacket that I refrained myself from buying even with Erin's encouragement to splurge. It's what I've been looking for for the past year when I was first introduced into the leather jacket culture in Italy. I bought a brown one from Italy, but have never wanted an article of clothing so bad. I know this sounds a little pretentious, but when someone asks me where I got something, and I'm able to say, "Oh, when I was living in Paris this past summer," it just makes me feel like I have a well-travelled life and makes me proud to do all the things I have done only being 19 years old. If I go back to the store tomorrow, and the jacket is still there, I am definitely buying it. It's probably the softest leather I've touched on a jacket; I try not to touch the super expensive leather jackets as I'm scared I might have dirty hands or something that would damage the leather forcing me to buy it..Sounds crazy, right?
     Back to Fete de la Musique - today's main event! It's an annual Parisian musical event held every June 21st on nearly every street in Paris. Hundreds of musicians gather in the streets, bars, cafes, and parks in Paris (we even saw them settting up a stage in Luxembourg Gardens today). FREE performances are available all over the city in nearly every music genre from jazz and rokc to hip-hop and electronic music. Can't wait to have something for free after today's little shopping indulgence that broke my checking account..It's going to be crazy trying to get around with the thousands upon thousands of people gathering the streets, especially with this crazy metro strike going down. Starting to think that started the strike in time for them to get in optimal time at the concerts and for the big sales tomorrow. Hey, at least all the walking I'm getting in will work off the massive breakfast I had (plain croissant before the picnic, then chocolate croissant, sour gummy candies, and spicy chili Pringles at the potluck with my Art History class), the first Parisian hot dog I've eaten so far (or should I count it as two since they load two hot dogs onto a baguette cut in half and douse it in cheese), and the Belgium chocolates I devoured today. At least it's kind of logical as chocolate is kind of like caffeine so the amount I had woke me up. I'm excited to be able to explore many of the different arrondissements that I wouldn't have been drawn to otherwise as each one has a type of music unique to it.

Paris:1. Hillary: 0 -> Defeated and worn out

Monday, June 2oth, 2011
    I was in the museum of modern art in the Pompidou Museum and was very astounded by all of the art that I had the opportunity to see. I was feel quite sick though. Very pale and lightheadedness, like when I used to swim a lot and was often dehydrated back in the eighth grade and high school. Oh the memories, and how unfortunate it was to happen again in a foreign country this time. Reminds me of when I was also sick in Italy for a day, vomiting sporadically all around the city..probably eight times in that one day. It's convenient that I always feel fine the next day. Usually it just takes a lot of water and a hearty meal to get me back up again. I'm glad it didn't impede with my plans too much and gave me a little bit of time to update my Facebook pictures and catch up with a few friends from home.
     Anyways, after the few pieces I had the chance to glance over in the Pompidou center, I was not a big fan of any of the pieces I really looked at from the cubism of Picasso to Matisse.They just seemed far too simple to be put in a museum for people from all of the world to come and visit. How can something that looks so simple and easy to throw together be considered art. Anyone can throw a rock at a glass statue and shatter it, pick up the pieces, then glue them onto a canvas, so I don't see what makes them so special to be presented in this famous museum.
     The building itself was quite interesting though as an "exoskeletal"with its functional parts (pipes, heating ducts, escalator) on the outside and the modern art in very spacious and open rooms on the inside. 

Centre Pompidou

     After looking at the urinal work displayed prominently in a corner, it made me question how we can interpret what's art and who makes the final decision of what constitutes art.

Marcel Duchamp's "Fountain" - Centre Pompidou

     How can a urinal be considered art? It's not one-of-a kind as it is mass produced in a production factory and Duchamp probably bought it from a home improvement store, similar to what would be Lowe's or Home Depot at that time in 1917. It's irreproducible and it's something any one could do, but not necessarily just anyone can think this up, as Duchamp was the first to actually consider putting such a grotesque appliance in a museum and simply throwing his name on the urinal - thus his creativity is what deserved him a place in the modern art museum today. 

     I then ventured back to my Cambronne stop, barely able to stand up on the hot, stuffy metro on the way home. I would be feeling extra claustrophobic when the metro is on strike, thus funneling everyone to only a few metro trains. Hey, you haven't truly lived in Paris long enough unless the metro goes on strike. Upon nearing my apartment, I was able to devour a warm, flakey 4 fromage quiche topped with thinly sliced tomatoes and half of a massive, soft baguette from the bakery we visit every morning. The plain croissant I had from there that morning was clearly not enough to sustain my dizziness. I've been to this bakery at least twice a day the past few days in my sudden eagerness to sample everything I've been reading about online or have been recommended by professors and advisors before I leave. Still haven't been disappointed. Hopefully the sugar rush doesn't force me into a sickly state in these last few days.

     We then worked on some homework, and explored our area a bit more in search of a new exquisite dinner. We eventually settled on a French grocery store, Franprix, after realizing we're running low on money and still have souvenirs to buy for friends and family, and go shopping ourselves.. I still felt like we were living the Parisian life as it's not like the French dine out in a restaurant every night, but share meals in their homes, as we do in America. I then felt a little better and couldn't handle staying in for the evening with only two nights left to explore Paris, so I met up with Sarah Jorgenson, Dr. Del Rio, and the majority of his comm class here in Paris at our favorite bar, called the River. It's pretty impossible for us to pass up a Guinness with Dr. Del Rio, especially when the cute French bartender, Pierre, who's studying Mathematics at the Sorbonne, is finally recognizing us!

Reunited in France

Sunday, June 19th, 2011
     On Saturday night after returning from Brugges and Sunday, Erin and I hung out with our friend, Phillip, and some of his old high school friends that he was travelling throughout Europe with this summer. 

 Phillip, Erin, and I having some wine and catching up at Luxembourg Gardens 

Cool U.K. sailboat a little boy rented!

I've had nearly every class with Phillip since Freshman year when we met in our Honors preceptee Biology class. We've definitely become best friends studying and working on our lab reports in the library until it closes every night, even the weekend, when the rest of our roommates or friends are doing thing that seem much more exciting, like surfing or hanging out on the beach nearly every day. He's one of those people that I'm literally around for 15 hours every day between all of our studying and classes we have together. Next semester, we have the exact same schedule, which is pretty hard to avoid when there's so few classes you can take as a Biochemistry major trying to fulfill the Honors program requirements with the few Honors GEs that are open. Next year, we both are two of the five preceptorial assistants on the committee for the Honors preceptorial program, on the exec board for Chemistry Club, one of fifteen pre-health advisors, and both are participating in the Scripps doctor shadowing program where we are fortunate enough to have prestigious Scripps doctors as mentors and the opportunity to see the excitements of different areas in the hospital, including the ICU and ER, on busy Friday and Saturday nights until 3 AM or so.
     It has been really interesting having so many friends just roaming around in Europe this summer, and even more exciting to actually meet up with them and hang out in pubs or have a bottle of wine in Luxembourg Gardens. We tried to go to the Catacombs today, but apparently getting there two hours before the last entrance isn't early enough. Hopefully, we can fit it in with the three full days we have left  in Paris. Boy, thinking about how we leave on Friday really shows how it's gone by so quickly. With all the things we still have to do before leaving, really baffles me how some people can come here for less than a week and leave feeling they've truly visited Paris. I've been here for nearly three weeks, yet still think there's so much we're going to leave unexplored when we leave. I still haven't even seen the view from the top of the Arc de Triomphe, the Eiffel Tower, or the 56 floor massive Montparnasse business building - many tourists are able to cram these activities all into one day, which sounds like what we might have to resort to in the few days we have left!!
     I'm truly going to miss Paris once I leave. There's so many restaurants I've fallen in love with that I want to return to before leaving, but there's just not enough meals in the day to get to all of them. I'm going to miss my fresh, warm French pastry every morning. My favorites have been Chausson aux Pommes (a delicious, flakey crust croissant like pastry filled with a gooey apple sauce like filling), a croissant (the plain, flakey buttery ones are definitely my favorite and definitely beat the panera croissants that I was never very fond of but my panera coworkers raved about - panera has nothing on the French pastries even though they too baked them daily), and the Croissant Amande (an almond croissant topped with sliced almonds and powdered sugar, but has the perfect balance of crispy, nutty, yet the almond paste inside perfects it - similar to a "bear claw" in America, but cannot even touch it). 

Croissant Amande

 Macarons

Chausson aux pommes

Those are just my breakfast favorites. Don't even get me started on my favorite snack pastries. The macarons have still remained my favorite. Every time I walk by a patisserie with macarons, I make myself stop in and indulge. These delightful little cookies from northeastern France are made from egg whites, almond powder and icing sugar. They are handburger-like shaped pastries made with two thin cookies with a thin layer of flavored icing in the center. A quality macaron has proven to be delicately crunchy on the outside and are moist, chewy and flavorful on the inside. On Sunday, I came across a bakery with macarons and could not resist the temptation of this light little treat. As I was trying to order, neither of the cashiers spoke English and the macarons were not labelled with flavors. I didn't feel like splurging 3,50 euros on a large macaron, especially when the smaller ones still satisfy the macaron craving, so I finally thought up "mini and petit" to lead the attendant in the right direction, but we still couldn't communicate which macaron I wanted. I really didn't care which flavor as I haven't been disappointed by any of the flavors, but obviously didn't have a way of communicating that to her. Luckily, a woman came in to the bakery during this incident and was able to translate and order the macaron for me. Chocolate filled coconut. mmmmmm. so worth the wait. I still have yet to be disappointed by the kindness I've been shown here in Paris. If someone was struggling this much with the language barrier, I'd probably judge them and think, why does this person feel entitled to come to my country and not know the language. I'd still try and help them out as I always try to when I can, but I'd definitely ignorantly judge them to myself.
     This experience in Paris has really changed my perspective on topics and opened up my views in the world. I really like to experience things first hand to remove my ignorance where possible.

Belgium chocolate, beer, and waffles

Saturday, June 18th, 2011
     Today, Erin Hong and I ventured off to Brugges, Belgium. I honestly don't know how this experience in Paris would have been different without Erin. We really didn't know each other that well outside of the few Chemistry and economics classes we've had together, but have definitely become very good friends living in tight quarters together. We pushed our beds basically next to each other as the room we share is so small and we're basically together for 24 hours out of the day with a few exceptions. I'm surprised we haven't gotten into any arguments or anything living together or taking the same class together. I've definitely found I've been successful living with people that I'm not great friends with or even know for that matter prior to living with them. Freshman year, my roommate was completely random. We never really hung out together and kept our relationship as roommates as we seemed to have very different groups of friends but coming from families in which we both have siblings, thus we both know how to be respectful and accommodating to each other, we did not get into arguments and even became best friends by the end of our two years living together. In Italy, I was acquaintances with one of my roommates and didn't know the other two that I was crammed into a hotel room that seemed like it should be rented as a double that they somehow crammed in a few extra cots for a month. We had a blast together. I really enjoy getting to know new people and living with them is a great way to truly get to know them way more intimately than you could other wise.
     Anyways back to Brugges. The train ride there was hectic! Our train broke down in a random city on the way there, so all 40 or so of us from USD had to collectively hop on another train that left literally seven minutes from the time the first train got there. It was insane trying to pile that many people extra onto an already very crowded train. The CEA program handled the stressful situation very well. Some USD kids were freaking out, but I've found it is always best to just work the stressful situation as freaking out about it really does not get you anywhere or help the situation whatsoever. This trip has definitely taught me how to be flexible in my travels. For example, just to name a few travel mishaps, the metro strikes, the fact that a cab ride in Normandy is almost 50 percent more on a Sunday, the day we happened to be there, lost train reservations, and the fact out of the seven of us in a group didn't speak English, so we had the wrong tickets on the train and we're required to upgrade on the train. All situations were stressful, but they always work out in the end. It's easier to enjoy life by not letting all of these little dilemmas get the worst of us.
     I really enjoyed the group I hung out with in Brugges - Brian, Henry, Yifan, Erin, and Sam. It really does not seem like a lot of us would have become friends without being forced together over meals and in foreign countries together. We really don't have interests that brought us together as school, other than our Paris adventure. We explored the famous Belgium chocalatiers, the canal with a boat tour from a tour guide who spoke three languages, and some yummy Belgium fries and waffles with caramel, chocolate, and whip cream. It didn't really seem like that many Belgian persons actually lived in Brugges as I've definitely heard the most English being spoken in this city than the rest of this trip to Europe and Spain. I was told that in Brugges, both Flemish and French are apparently commonly spoken around, which I really didn't notice as I was filtering all of the foreign languages out do to the overwhelming majority of English spoken. I noticed a man trying to order his waffle in French, but the attendant serving him kept replying to his French with English, even though the man still had accented English and clearly understood the French. I found this very odd.

New friends!

Friday, June 17th, 2011
     We had to take it a little slower today as we went to the club with some other international students we met under the Eiffel Tower last night. The students we met were from all over the world, from Brazil, to Switzerland, to the naval academy in Annapolis, Maryland. It seems like when I've been going out, I've been meeting a lot of men because they have definitely been approaching us more, around the Eiffel Tower, out at bars, and definitely out at clubs. The Brazilian and Portuguese girls and American girls from Vermont we met were probably the first group of girls we met that we've actually continued to hang out with. They were very friendly and accommodating, offering us to come over for dinner and we've been meeting up with them at bars and clubs the past few nights. Although my French is lagging, at least I was able to practice my Spanish a bit as some of them didn't know English and we're primarily communicating with each other in French. I found it very interesting how, although in France, they all did know English and French, even though neither were their primary languages. I think it's very interesting how most people in Europe know multiple languages. They have to at least know their country's primary language, English, multiple languages from school, and many of the languages of the country's around them. They seem so much more worldly here than a lot of my friends in America. It's interesting to meet other students who are eager to travel the world, and actually do it, whereas many of my friends at home always talk about how jealous they are that I'm travelling the world and how difficult it is to actually do it. A lot of the once in a lifetime opportunities, including internships and leadership positions,  I've had are definitely due to USD's excellence as a university. It seems like my friends that are envious of my travels are ignorant that I have to pay for my plane tickets and such to get here, whereas most other students have their travels funded by their parents. It's definitely attainable as I've built of a ton of savings in high school and college so far and will definitely need to rebuild those upon returning to USD... I'll admit I have already looked into study abroad classes and locations for intersession.
     Today, we went to the Musee de l'Orangerie. I was not a fan at all of Picasso and Matisse. But once again, I really enjoyed the Monet garden mural scenes again.

     Monet's Giverny gardens in Musee de l'Orangerie

    

From Moreau to getting lost in Paris

Thursday, June 16th, 2011,
     Today, we visited the home and museum of Gustave Moreau. Being a "dandy," his artwork was very different from the impressionists of the time.

Gustave Moreau's Triomphe D'Alexandre Le Grand

     This, and many of his other paintings were very interesting as in many of them he painted them without sharpness, but then added fine lines to outline the details to the buildings and figures. The above image, once again, does not capture anything even close to the real image.. It had a really mathematical crossed with artsy look, something I had yet to see in the Louvre or the Musee d'Orsay. It was obvious that Gustave Moreau was a perfectionist, as many of his works remained unfinished. Apparently some of the works took over ten years for him to complete, because he continually added fine details to complete the painting and fill up the entire canvas, which was very obvious that he thought about nearly everything possible he could.  The contrasts he displays in his stormy clouds are some of the most moving I've been able to see thus far. 

      We then ventured over to the Bastille area as a few of our friends live over there any were eager to return to the "best restaurant they've eaten at in Paris." Let me just note that I've definitely had better food on the corner of any street, specifically anywhere in the Jewish district. The potato and four fromage (cheese) casserole we ordered was definitely delicious as the potatoes were roasted and seasoned to perfection and the cheese was melted perfectly and were robust enough to satiate our palate, but not strong enough to detract from the potatoes. It was definitely the best casserole I've had thus far in Paris, but not the best meal whatsoever. I thought it was weird that the entire time I've been ordering cafes, and expecting the straight shots of espresso, as that's what a cafe is here. Today, the waiter was speaking in English after realizing we were speaking it to each other and he asked us if we knew what a cafe was in France. Yes, we know it's a shot of espresso and yes, it comes in the tiny little glass. We were kind of offended as we've been here for nearly two and a half weeks, but we can't blame him as he must serve many foreigners that are confused by the tiny espresso shot when trying to order a coffee.

     We then ventured off to the Jewish district to pick up some things we had our eyes on. I found three scarves for ten euros and a small satchel for five euros at a vintage store. We worked on our hunt for the perfect macaron, yet still haven't been able to top the Early Grey macaron I was fortunate enough to start off my macaron experience with. 

     Today was really enjoyable strolling through the streets of Paris with my roommates on our way to the museum and then strolling around in search of a little Parisian boutique. It was actually quite a struggle to find stores unique to Paris where no English is spoken as Zara, H & M, and numerous other international stores seemed to have made their way over to Paris and many Americans and English shoppers seem to flock to the stores. I heard way more English from the customers than French today. Lots of moms yelling across the store inquiring their daughters opinions on various dresses and linen outfits. A few of them haven't been in Paris long enough to notice the black clothes spread out on the streets. Anyone wearing an article of clothing that's white is definitely a tourist. If it's cream, you could possibly be Parisian, but if its at least khaki colored, you'll fit right in. They also haven't been in Paris to notice the downpours the past few days and to examine the weather forecast for the next few days. The storm clouds are definitely making up for the drought that was happening for at least two months before we came here.

Macarons, cafe, vins

Wednesday, June 15th, 2011
     Today we returned to the Musee d'Orsay and were privileged to revisit the Manet exhibit, which was wonderful as I absolutely love his artwork. I also really enjoyed checking out more Degas - definitely two of my favorite artists. I'm very drawn to Degas' ballerina paintings, so I found it very interesting when Dr. Maxim explained how the ballerinas were considered working women, such as the laundress, the bathing women, or the gleaners in the field. It made me appreciate it that much more especially as Degas portrays them as beautiful, elegant, and graceful, yet they are still some of the hardest workers out there, especially as women were just being welcomed into the performance profession as dancers. 
     Today, I was fortunate enough to thoroughly observe the Monet exhibit. I was really intrigued by the following pieces:

Monet's Les Glacons

     This online image of Les Glacons does no justice for Monet's actual piece, which is quite massive and detailed. The numerous colors and ballerina pink sparkles observable from different angles really bring the painting to life. The noticeable texture from the brushstrokes really gives the painting that one of a kind texture, where you know it can't be replicated without painting another, which would be difficult to replicate the genius art work of Claude Monet!

Monet's Londres Le Parlement

     I really really like the above painting because of its simplicity. I can recognize the Parliament building even though it's only a silhouette. The sunset is reflected of the Thames River. I like how I can infer so much from the painting even though the brushstokes seem so blurred and unfinished.

     Last night, when my friend and I went to a bar, we observed a few Parisian girls that appeared drunk, which was really something we had not seen too often here so it really stands out when I do notice it. I've found that it's nearly unheard of for people to take shots of hard alcohol here, whereas in the states, that's your typical college party that leads to so many irresponsible decisions, alcohol poisoning incidents, and even deaths, at some universities. Here, it seems like the Parisians pace out their drinking a lot more. They don't simply drink to get "drunk," but they just drink a glass or two with their meals consistently every night to savor all of their meals with good company. It's more of a custom here. At happy hour, the tables are full at every cafe we stroll by with tons of businessmen and women relaxing with friends and tapas after a long day at the office. It's interesting how the customs of coffee and alcohol are essentially reversed here. In America, we throw back shots of alcohol, but in Europe, they throw back shots of espresso. They cannot fathom the idea of a cup of drip coffee, or even the infamous Americano while we are shocked by the fact that wine is far cheaper than water, and soda, in Paris at a restaurant, or even in a discounted grocery store.
      This observation is also kind of similar to the transportation differences between the different cultures. In America, there's no wrapping our heads around the idea of such intricate, complex transportation routes underground the city, but in Europe, that's the common mode of transportation for anyone, from the homeless, to the rising businessman, to any Parision that cannot stand nor afford the weekly commute of driving into Paris for two long journies every day, to the tourist who is buried in his large fold up map, just to name a few.
     The equal playing field conveyed through the metro reminded me of Emilie Zola's novel The Belly of Paris, as its primarily focused on the middle class. I feel like the majority of the art we've studied thus far, before the impressionist movement at least, has been primarily commissioned by the wealthy and focused on the wealthy, royal, religious, and prominent historic events. It was interesting to learn all about Haussmann and the effect of his reformations of Paris, specifically the massive grand boulevards in the 1850s. I like how I can relate to Zola's experience in his arrival into Paris struggling to live the bourgeois lifestyle, as we're struggling with the different customs and language barrier to live the Parisian lifestyle.

Eh! La queue commence la-bas.

Tuesday, June 14th, 2011
     I decided to break out the "Wicked French," book my mom bought me with odd, funny, and even somewhat useful phrases in French. The title of this post means, "Hey! The line starts back there." I felt this was very appropriate as I went to the Musee Orsay with my Art History class today. I could tell by the crowds outside, and  the high ratings of it in my guide books, that whatever art was inside, had to be good! I was very impressed by the Manet exhibit! I knew very little about Manet before this art history class and often confused his famous pieces as Monet's, but they are very very different.
Thus far, Musee d'Orsay has been my favorite museum by far. Impressionism paintings have a lot of hidden meanings and the artists are professionals at making their paintings look as if they were effortlessly thrown together. I've discovered that Manet, Monet, Renoir, Degas, and Van Gogh are now amongst my favorite artists. The sun-dappled fields and the crowded Parisian cafes, although realistic of the early 18th and 19th century, are ideal to me of what I am dreaming to experience here in Paris. The vast fields and picnicking with fine china, steaming silver tea pots, men in shiny top hats and women in full, flowy, dainty dresses and bonnets may be a little hard to reach other than the picnicking in the famous parks such as Luxembourg gardens, filled with screaming children and old men playing chess..

 Some of my favorites from today's visit are below..

Edgar Degas - Danseuses Bleues

     I absolutely love everything about Degas' ballerinas - the bright sapphire blue full tutus, the small arched feet, the overwhelming presence of grace in the picture, the blurriness, an undefined background other than large speckles of colors (could possibly be the set).

Manet - La Combat de Kearsarge et de L'Alabama  

(The Battle of the 'Kearsarge' and the 'Alabama')

Manet - Clair de lune sur le port de Boulogne

Degas - La Repasseuse

Taking a step back

Monday, June 13th, 2011
     Today has been relaxing thus far. After class, I went over to the Jewish District. I've not been let down by the food yet in that area. After passing too many good smelling boulingeries with challah, macarons, tartes, pains chocolate, etc., we couldn't make it past this jam packed little restaurant. Sarah, Max, and I could barely read anything on the menu, so we knew it had to be good, especially after observing the freshly prepared meals around us. Lots of loaded scrambled eggs, hefty slides of quiche, croissants, and massive meringue pies, just to say the least. The tea selection was exquisite and smelt very citrusy and fresh. It has to be good tea when you're given a strainer to pour the tea still brewing when you're given it in the pot. I don't know what they did to make the eggs so good, but the scrambled eggs I ordered were probably the best I've ever ordered. They had the perfect texture, not too dry and crispy, nor slimy or too wet. There was a perfect ratio of artichokes and parmesan in the eggs. As basic as the meals sounds, I can't wait to return there for brunch this Sunday. 

Jewish District

      These eggs are like something I've never tasted before! During our meal, we saw the 6 inch high lemon meringues pass us by far too many times that we were talked into dessert just through observation. None of us were into sharing, so we each had our own massive dessert tart. Mine was a blend of exotic fruits, on a buttery, flakey crust.

Exotic Fruit Tarte

Lemon Meringue Tarte

We probably devoured more than we ever expected to and will be recovering from our food comas by walking throughout Paris. This is when skipping the metro comes in handy..
     Everyone seemed to be exhausted after this meal, but I still wanted to check a few more things off of my list of things I need to see in Paris before departing, so I ventured over to the Musee national de Moyen Age/ Musee Cluny. It was a nice afternoon strolling through the museum by myself, not being held up by anyone else who seemed tired, bored, or hungry. It was all on my own time. It was one of the first times in Paris I set out to do something by myself. I really enjoyed the self reflection I was able to experience by not talking to nearly anyone for the three hours I was gone. I could also experience the city more completely as I eliminated the distraction of talking to whoever is next to you, rather than focusing on the art of the streets I was wandering. It's also nice to be able to discover the city on my own. I eventually ditched the map after a while as there wasn't another antsy person with me eager to reach our destination as quickly as possible. I remembered the advice I'd been given numerous times, especially by Dr. Maxim, reminding me:

"If you want to discover somewhere that has already 

been discovered, lose the map". And that I did.

     The museum was small, but I definitely think it was worth going to see the stone heads from Notre Dame. The 21 stone heads shown in one of the rooms was kind of disturbing to see at first. I then learned than the stone heads were of the Biblical kings of Judah that were once in front of Notre Dame until an angry mob of Revolutionaries mistook the kings of Judah for the kings of France and abused and decapitated the statues. Someone gathered the heads and buried them in his backyard near the present day Opera Garnier, where they remained for two centuries, until 1977, when some diggers came across them. The statues in front of Notre Dame are reconstructions. 

21 stone heads of the Biblical kings of Judah

     I really enjoy learning about history, especially when I'm in such a historical, famous area to do so. I'm not coming back to Paris any time soon, so I feel I need to learn as much as I can and visit as many museums as I can, with still making time to immerse myself into the Parisian culture. So far, I think I've done a pretty good job balancing the two.
     A parisian man came up to me today on the metro today and pointed at the scar from my ACL surgery on my knee. He started talking in French and I heard ACL, as it's the same abbreviation in French and English, and so I just said "wie," but he kept getting into too much detail where he was confused when I just kept responding with yes. I eventually caved in and said, "I don't speak French," with a half smile. He began responding in the little English he knew. It was nice to be mistaken for a Parisian, possibly by my outfit and my gaze focusing dead on one point in the distance on the metro the entire time until the man spoke to me. I've pretty much read both of my guide-books back to back a few times, and it's less interesting to me to read to places after I've already been to them. Kind of anti-climatic. I've started picking up the free metro newspapers in the morning, and though I can't read French, I can look at the pictures and the words I recognize, such as Bradley Cooper, and his appearances in Paris for the premiere of the, "Hangover 2," or "Very Bad Trip 2," as it's called here. I really regret not taking some sort of introductory French class before coming here. Like always, life (school) got in the way..

Omaha Beach

Sunday, June 12th, 2011
     Today, Erin, Brittany, Marshall, Noe, Nate, and Cameron all ventured off to the American Cemetery up at Omaha Beach in Normandy. After our Amsterdam road trip plans fell through, we spontaneously decided to take another adventure. After battling the language barrier between the seven of us USD students knowing very, very minimal French and the SNCF train employees, we hopped on a 9 AM train out of Paris from the St. Lazare train station and arrived in Bayeux a little over two and a half hours later. I organized the entire trip, decided when to leave Paris, return, how to get to the cemetery, what we'll have time for, etc., yet I was the only one that managed to make it to the ticket counter and have to buy a second ticket the morning of, even with my confirmation number. At least I was promised a refund if I returned later in the week. Let's see how successful that is. Also, we accidently bought tickets in which a French discount card for 12 to 25 year olds is needed upon checking the ticket, so we were all forced to upgrade our tickets to the higher price when the attendant came by, waking up us to check our tickets. The attendant was having a rough time with a British woman travelling with a French man. They were speaking what seemed to be clear French to each other, but the woman, who was carrying an invalidated ticket, like ourselves, pretended she didn't know any French, like us, so she shouldn't be receiving the fine for breaking those rules as the man gave us an exception other than the necessary upgrade we all paid for. Since she was travelling with a Parisian, she should know to validate her ticket as there are numerous bold, impossible-to-miss reminders throughout the train station warning travelers of the fine. This is just another instance in which being kind to the Parisians has helped us. The French attendant explained to us what we were doing wrong and how to avoid the mistake next time, yet the British woman raising her voice and going on a rant, wearing the attendant out, was given a stricter, more demanding fine. Ticket checking on a train would be a very tiresome job to have with so many travelers trying to beat the system.
     When we arrived in Bayeux, it was cold, windy, and rainy - just as the weather report predicted. We all decided to get a quick, warm pick me up with an espresso and some warm food. We sat down at the first cafe we passed by. Boy, was that a mistake. After finally getting used to wanting a simple shot of espresso, we ordered "cafes" all around. All of the other cafes I've been to in Paris have taken that to mean, "espresso shot," but here we were all given watery americanos. On the bright side, it did the job of warmth and caffeine. We then ordered pizzas, croques, a quiche, and a sandwiche. The pizza came out in  overly symmetric and flat, not as disordered and scrumptious looking as any other meal I've ordered here in France. Cameron doesn't like mushrooms, so he picked them off and gave them to me. I was very excited and hungry to devour them, but I couldn't help but laugh after taking the first bite as the mushrooms were frozen. We all quickly concluded that our prior assumptions upon looking at the food were indeed true and our waiter had defrosted all of our meals from a cardboard box in a microwave. Nate savored the sandwich he ordered while the rest of us picked at our food in disgust. It makes sense that the restaurant can run such a scam as it's the only cafe by the train station in a little town that no one really travels to other than for the cemeteries. It's not like he has regulars there. He must do fine running off of tourists who will never return nor have anyone to warn about this awful dining experience. Hopefully he's able to realize the ethics of what he's doing. Karma might come back and bite him in the..
    We then decided to take an adventure to the American cemetery at Omaha Beach. After much debate of taking two cabs or renting bikes for our 15 km journey, we all eagerly agreed on biking, despite the rain drizzling outside. And because cabs are apparently a significant amount more (25 or 50 or some crazy percentage more than any other day) in Normandy on Sundays. As sad as this sounds, it was probably the most exercise I had partaken any day I had been here thus far. The exercise reminded me how addicting I find adrenaline and endorphin rushes. Made me want to go for a run when returning to Paris, except it was 11 PM, so I figured it wasn't the safest idea. It was mainly a straight cut through the country to get to the memorial. The ride was a peaceful break from the city life. Smelling freshly bloomed flowers, rain in the fields, and even manure were a nice contrast to the sidewalks and metro smelling like urine and the sweaty BO smell of the metro, even on the rainier, brisk days due to the overcrowded city life. It was nice to be able to have a destination so far away and not have the option of taking the metro to get there. I'd much rather get some exercise and explore the natural, open air side of Paris. This bike ride is definitely a French treasure and has inspired me to walk over taking the metro and to go on runs for that addicting, healthy rush from only attainable with strenuous exercise. As unsafe as this bike ride seemed, biking on the side of an uneven road in the hills of a foreign country, the road barely having two lanes, us not having helmets, etc. - it all added to the excitement of this experience. It almost seemed like an accomplishment making it there and back without at least one of us falling off of our bike into a ditch. We're so ready for Tour de France. I even saw a man in a his spandex biking suit and a helmet making his bright fire-truck red bike, coming the other direction. He was turning onto a different road and I was quite impressed by how sharp his turn was and how he was able to lean his bike to such a small angle with the ground.. until he fell right in front of a car! Luckily, he bounced right back up without any scratches too intense. It was a good reminder we must still keep our guard up and live with at least a little fear to not fall into such easily avoidable and even life-threatening mishaps.
     Rain usually puts a damper on the day, but it really added to the experience of the trip. It set the tone for travelling to such a moving, emotional cemetery. Many Americans know of at least one soldier who is buried here or at least are moved by their stories and pay reverence for their lives as they gave their lives our freedom. Over 9500 Americans are buried in this cemetery - all with different careers, backgrounds, economical statuses, sexes - but they all shared one thing in common - a love so great for America that they'll put their life on the line to honor their country and protect their families back home. One of the stories was about a father of 26 years old who died in battle at Normandy leaving his wife, three young children, and a son of 7 months he had never met before behind. It's instances like these that make me damn proud to be an American. Walking past the wall memorial of the missing and into the cemetery with white crosses and crosses of the Jewish soldiers with the star of David was very moving.

Endless amount of crosses

      Reading the names off of the tombstones and noticing some of the last names being some of my friends last names, even my last name (even though no Hawkins members from my family would be buried there as the Hawkins side of my family is British and we have a few members over in Sword Beach), was moving knowing how American all of the names were and how we all have some sort of connection to the cemetery, no matter how distant, it's still apart of our heritage. Standing on the beach and simply trying to envision all that happened there that day was a lot to take in. The seven of us barely talked the entire time we were up at the cemetery as words weren't needed.
     It was emotional hearing all the Americans speaking English around me and how they all travelled such a far way and made an effort to pay reverence to their ancestors and loved ones. Seeing tombs such as the one pictured below really moved me as they really did honor every soldier that acted heroically to give up his life for the rest of us today.

"Here lies in honored glory a comrade known in arms known only to God."

It was also very interesting noticing all the non English speakers at Omaha Beach, some who still noticeably were from far away, still interested in honoring the soldiers and all they did for our country, for Great Britain, Canada, and the free French all in an effort to drive the Nazis out of France and to end gruesome WWII. D-Day at Normandy in 1944 is an integral piece of our world's history.

Omaha Beach

Diagram of Normandy attack

     If we weren't under such a time crunch, I would have loved to be able to explore the many other cemeteries and memorials across the Normandy coastline, particularly Sword Beach (one of the British cemetaries). It is here that my great Uncle Fred is buried. He was dropped onto Sword Beach the day before D-Day as apart of the elite 4th commando. This really does portray how much of an impact D-Day had on families all around the world, especially as my father and mother were both from different countries, yet both had ties to the "war to end all wars."I believe that seeing a cemetery such as this is necessary for everyone of any nation that has one. This experience was surreal and reminded me to appreciate my freedom. It's necessary to honor these men and women who were lost or who went into battle knowing they could lose their life. It took the entire effort of each country to be able to do this, supporting their families back at home, and praying for the soldiers out in battle. We must not forget them.

Think not only upon their passing

Remember the glory of their spirit