It is a lovely Saturday afternoon here in le 14ie and I am loving every moment. We are housed in the dorm for Canadian students here at Cite Universitaire de Paris, which is essentially a collection of dormitories for visiting staff and students, built after the First World War. The building itself is lovely, having a modern, homey exterior and rooms, with classic features preserved in the corridors and common areas. Us students have small en suite rooms while the faculty are housed in studio apartments.
Since I have a history of talking about bathrooms, I'll tell you that mine is quite a joke. My prof warned us that it was like a plane bathroom and she was quite right, though I can fully turn around inside. The walls, floor, and ceiling are a continuous layer of plastic (? I cant quite remember the correct word here...the stuff showers and tubs are made of...), which is a good thing because my first shower got water everywhere except the sink, pretty much, though as I'll likely use that as a foot prop for shaving... You get the idea. I'm grateful to have it for myself, however, and really, the privacy is well worth the space. I even think I could stay for some time here quite comfortably :)
We had an orientation this morning, and then I spent a few hours wandering parks, getting a head start on my readings and testing my Metro knowledge, as I had no map. Of course I wore the wrong shoes and my feet are covered in blisters, and of course I've already ruined a pair of shoes (in Dublin, which seems to be tradition now), so all of that is grand.
I'm learning to love my hair again as the texture changes, an adaptation to the water and French hair products which are quite different from my American routine, and though it leaves my hair thicker and messier, I can't say I mind the ease of it being so. I can comfortably leave chez moi after finger combing it ( or not ) and look just as put together as most Parisians, putting me only (miles) behind the tourists, but I refuse to care what they think anyway. On that note, I was a bit worried about being here solely in August, when the Parisians are on vacation and the tourists abound...and I was right to do so. I can hardly stand the droves of loud backpack-wearers, and will someone please explain to me why the only bottoms Americans own are jeans? *shudder* I would love to bring home a closet full of chinos, but alas, I've committed to traveling carry on... I digress. My apologies.
I've quickly fallen in love with a simple ham-(insert sort of like Swiss cheese here) sandwich which is delicious and so cheap to find the markets, and I've been drinking orange juice diluted with sparkling water, which I feel better about drinking than a can of my favorite Orangina, though they are basically the same.
Also, There is a tramway in our street, and I have to say I love it, very convenient for jumping up to Lidl, my favorite little grocery store.
Donc, I've arrived safe and sound, I love it as much ( if not more ) than I always did, and yes, I am once again dreaming up ways to return long term.
Good morning, mes amis americain, bonne journee, et je vous aimez...mais Paris a ma coeur.
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