Wednesday hadn't been a good day. It had started with a couple of gypsy girls ambushing me at the ATM, pressing buttons, changing the amount I was requesting, and generally trying to distract me long enough to get the cash and my card and run. I yowled and thankfully there was a guy nearby who came over to chase them away -- they had demanded 300 euros, which surprisingly enough I don't have in my account at the moment, so finally in peace I got my 30 euros and went on my way, somewhat upset and shocked. The rest of the day wasn't bad, so to speak, just not great, and a few personal demons decided to show up and grab me around the throat...
Put it this way, Thursday morning wasn't particularly welcome. My alarm went off at 9am, not very early, I know. But oh lovely, the nose is stuffed up and it's gray AGAIN, this is going to be good...
But no matter what my state of mind, there is one thing that will always get me out of bed and on the metro, which is a dance class. So I dragged myself up and headed out to have some breakfast. Colette was eating at the same time and we chatted for awhile over coffee, until I realized I needed to go and put the car in gear.
I was just feeling scattered -- my mind and body tend to be really connected and the mini-breakdown of the night before was scattering my energy all over the place. Gray again, I was tired, slightly sick, and muttered various French curses on my way down the stairs.
On the metro, there was a cheerful guy with an accordion, speaking french with a heavy Arab accent and smiling. He played several bouncy tunes. I gave him a euro. It seemed a small price to pay for making me smile.
I wish I could say that I had an amazing ballet class and everything was better afterward, because that would make a good story. Only it's not true: I was off my balance the whole class, still outside of my body, and it was only the last combination of an hour and a half long class that I finally felt like I was centered. Better late than never, I guess. I felt slightly better but still frustrated as I headed back to the metro. The bums on the sidewalk all call out, "belle madamoiselle, une cigarette?" They all want cigarettes...no, I'm not interested. I ignored them all. Just easier that way, even though bumming cigarettes seems to be a national pastime.
I dropped by Reid Hall briefly to print a few things out, had a fight with the printer, and then walked home. I had lunch with Colette - the avocado I'd bought earlier in the week was absolutely perfect, the Maroccan strawberries that had been on sale were juicy and red and beautiful and really good with yogurt. Plus a "tradition", which is if possible better than a baguette, and life started to look up. Colette made some coffee and I had it with a chocolate eclair.
After all this activity, I was exhausted, and lay down for a little cat nap, which I have perfected. I slept 30/40 minutes, then kibitzed about the internet until 18h45 (6:45PM in other words)...then back on the metro.
Line 4 to Chatelet, line 1 to Franklin D Roosevelt, line 9 to Alma Marceau, where I met a friend and headed off to the Palais de Tokyo. Her idea -- apparently it has really nothing to do with Tokyo and is instead for contemporary art. Go figure.
When we got there, there were a bunch of people standing around in the lobby, as though waiting for something. Heartily confused, my friend and I bought tickets (1 euro each, not bad!), then asked the lady what was going on.
She pointed to a black box plopped in the middle of the lobby, roughly 6' X 6' X 6'. She said that there was a metal band inside, and in about five minutes they were going to open the door and reveal them.
Oh really?! We went over to the box and put our ears against it. Yep, you could hear vague pounding, but that was it. Right about then, the sound exploded as the guard swung open the front door, and sure enough! There was a metal band squashed inside. Four of them: drums, a bass, guitar, and a vocalist screaming into a microphone. Strange.
After that we actually went to the exhibit, which was even stranger. It was in the basement, in this enormous warehouse space, bare industrial walls and no lights -- the light came from the huge video projections on the wall. It was an exhibit about Amos Gitai and his father -- the films were all creations of Amos, often about his father's story. The projections really were enormous, and the sound from them was all mixed together and jumbled until you were right in front and then the one you were looking at took precedence. It was interesting -- though bizarre.
Back on the metro after that -- 9 to the 1 to the B, though I suggested the 4. I would have been right because the B was delayed, but there you go. We got off at St Michel and met another friend. Elena and I were hungry and grabbed a bucket of fries from nearby, then we headed off to a nearby bar, called The Gentleman, which is really nice. It was busy -- there was a soccer match on. However, we found a little table and crowded around it with a pint.
At the end of the first pint, Elena's boyfriend and a friend joined us and so the second pint came around, plus two more chairs around the tiny table. Five of us now, we spent another hour chattering. Although they could tell immediately that I wasn't French -- my accent gives it away, even though I speak really well -- the new additions didn't have any problem talking extremely quickly, and with the noise of the bar I really had to concentrate. However, I understood almost everything, which I was really happy about. I'd say I'm doing well if I can understand rapid fire French in a busy bar. (My accent, by the way, gets better with a little alcohol. Or at least, I talk quicker. They say you lose the editor...it's true).
We headed out a little past 11 and I went home and went to bed fairly soon after, but much happier and much more together. That is a fairly typical day at the end of the week, though usually I'm teaching. I move a lot -- I'm out about in Paris often, often with friends, always on the metro...and I love it.
However, I would be much happier if the sun would come out. Just for a little.
Friday, February 25, 2011
Tuesday, February 22, 2011
Not Staying Inside: Free time in Paris
I would like to tell you what I've done for the past two weeks. That's kind of why I made the blog in the first place.
Here are my excuses for not updating:
1) The weather sucks. What exactly this has to do with my lack of writing, I'm not sure, but I'm sure it's related. It's gray and cold and occasionally, whenever I don't have my umbrella, it spits rain. When I don't, it's just kind of gray. Once in awhile the sun comes out for a morning, just to tease me. I disagree.
2) J'ai trop la flemme, and if I spelled that right I will be shocked. Either way, I've just had NO ambition to do anything that involves writing. Today, thanks to the weather, I had to force myself to go to ballet. But dance I can handle. But stuff like sending e-mails I keep forgetting to, you know that fun stuff, j'ai aucune envie, I just don't want to. I know, whine whine.
3) I keep going out. That is, I've been out almost too much if possible, especially this weekend. For various reasons I didn't sleep in my own bed very much this weekend, was either too far from home or out with girlfriends and it's often easier to just sleep over. I have a lot of free time right now because my students are all on vacation and off somewhere in the Alps skiing (screw them) for the February vaca that happens in French high/middle schools, so I've been taking care to keep myself occupied. Whether that's walking, drinking coffee with friends, meeting friends for lunch (sushi), taking extra dance classes, seeing movies (Les femmes au sixième étage, Black Swan), seeing exhibits (Paris: Avant Après 1860-2011, Louvre: Les appartements de Napoléon III, le code d'Hammurabi) during the day, and then at night having dinner with friends (une raclette, house warming party), out at a concert (Pont Ephémere), meeting someone for a drink, etc, it makes for a busy schedule and not a lot of sleep. It's way too much fun, actually.
Well, yeah, so the third reason is what I've been up to. In a nutshell. All over the place, now that I think about it.
Obvious piece of news: The Louvre is HUGE. They say you can walk around for two straight years and not see everything. This seems unbelievable to me, but it is still giant.
Cool thing that happened: On Tuesday, I was in a café with my friend Julia when the skies opened and then the sun came out,making an incredibly bright rainbow practically just outside the window.
I don't know why I'm telling you this piece of news: I met a French guy. Well, yes, I've met several, but I think you know what I mean. We've only seen each other twice, mais que j'ai craqué pour lui ("de craquer pour" somebody means that you get one of those giddy twirling kind of crushes on them. Voilà.)
La vie est belle, what else can I say? I'll try and update more.
Here are my excuses for not updating:
1) The weather sucks. What exactly this has to do with my lack of writing, I'm not sure, but I'm sure it's related. It's gray and cold and occasionally, whenever I don't have my umbrella, it spits rain. When I don't, it's just kind of gray. Once in awhile the sun comes out for a morning, just to tease me. I disagree.
2) J'ai trop la flemme, and if I spelled that right I will be shocked. Either way, I've just had NO ambition to do anything that involves writing. Today, thanks to the weather, I had to force myself to go to ballet. But dance I can handle. But stuff like sending e-mails I keep forgetting to, you know that fun stuff, j'ai aucune envie, I just don't want to. I know, whine whine.
3) I keep going out. That is, I've been out almost too much if possible, especially this weekend. For various reasons I didn't sleep in my own bed very much this weekend, was either too far from home or out with girlfriends and it's often easier to just sleep over. I have a lot of free time right now because my students are all on vacation and off somewhere in the Alps skiing (screw them) for the February vaca that happens in French high/middle schools, so I've been taking care to keep myself occupied. Whether that's walking, drinking coffee with friends, meeting friends for lunch (sushi), taking extra dance classes, seeing movies (Les femmes au sixième étage, Black Swan), seeing exhibits (Paris: Avant Après 1860-2011, Louvre: Les appartements de Napoléon III, le code d'Hammurabi) during the day, and then at night having dinner with friends (une raclette, house warming party), out at a concert (Pont Ephémere), meeting someone for a drink, etc, it makes for a busy schedule and not a lot of sleep. It's way too much fun, actually.
Well, yeah, so the third reason is what I've been up to. In a nutshell. All over the place, now that I think about it.
Obvious piece of news: The Louvre is HUGE. They say you can walk around for two straight years and not see everything. This seems unbelievable to me, but it is still giant.
Cool thing that happened: On Tuesday, I was in a café with my friend Julia when the skies opened and then the sun came out,making an incredibly bright rainbow practically just outside the window.
I don't know why I'm telling you this piece of news: I met a French guy. Well, yes, I've met several, but I think you know what I mean. We've only seen each other twice, mais que j'ai craqué pour lui ("de craquer pour" somebody means that you get one of those giddy twirling kind of crushes on them. Voilà.)
La vie est belle, what else can I say? I'll try and update more.
Wednesday, February 9, 2011
Complaining Suddenly Irrelevant: It's already February
So I spend all my time whining about how I don't like January and February, and then they do me the disservice of making me look like an idiot and whipping on by. At least the last couple weeks -- suddenly it's February 8th and the worst month of the year is 1/4 over.
I suppose it may be because I have been absolutely determined not to let the blues get me down -- I am in Paris, and thus do not consider it legitimate to mope about for two months. I've been pretty careful to keep my head in a good place and catch it whenever it gets off on one of its "I hate this time of year" rants.
It helps that the sun is coming out.
My host mom says that it's normal to have the first signs of Spring now, which, as a Colorado native growing up at 8200 feet above sea level and thus having spring sometime in late May, this is utterly bizarre to me. It seems far too early to even consider spring, but I sure hope she's right. Warmer weather and sunshine would be a-okay with me.
Of course, thanks to the temperature changes I have a lovely head cold and am somewhat in pain at the moment, but there you go. I'm still in Paris, and what's more....
I'm staying here until the end of July.
Yes you heard right. I asked a friend and got an offer to share an apartment for the summer, which means that my dream of celebrating my birthday in Paris and generally getting to see Paris in the summer is coming true. I'm going to work on finding a job, doing what I don't know yet, but we'll see. The point is, I'm here for the summer. I leave in August because there are people that I must see before I go back to New York in the fall, and I think I've gotten to the point where I know it will be the perfect time here and the perfect time to leave. Of course, I may always come back -- but that's too far away. As I've been learning to do this year -- sort of forced to learn -- I'm trying to live inside now.
One other big piece of news for the week is that this past saturday, thanks to Anne, I presented a solo - my own choreography - at a gala benefiting an association called 'Virades de l'espoir" and fights against a rare genetic respiratory disorder. It was a trip -- and I mean that in a couple different ways. The venue was in St Rèmy les Chevreuse, about an hour away on the RER train, so it's not really "à côté" as they say here, aka nearby. Also because my solo was about as different to the choreography of every other group there as Santa is to the Grinch BEFORE the Who's start singing. The other groups were all large in number, used music with a heavy dance electronic kind of beat, was just endless sharp movement, all performed facing the audience. There were a couple pieces that were the most formulaic pieces of dance I think I have ever seen.
To be fair, there was one piece that was really, really well done -- it was a mix of African and hip hop, and while I can't figure out what it was about it that made it so good, it had a emotional content, an intensity, and was just really well put together and staged.
However, I have to say that I felt pretty out of place -- my solo was really good, don't get me wrong, it's been worked on so much, but it's just a more subtle kind of dance that plays with energy and tension and suspension and release, and isn't the bang bang crowd pleasing kind of thing that was all over the place otherwise. I was pretty nervous -- it's been a LONG time since I danced a solo and it was my debut as a choreographer as well. It went well, I suppose, but there was just something kind of lacking...a kind of connection with the audience that is really important for me. It was just like, I danced, people clapped, and that was it -- but not the life-sparking, intoxicating connection that happened the other night at the Elysée Montmartre.
But there you have it, it was cool in any case.
So in general, what am I doing these days?
I'm teaching -- a lot. Three days a week I'm at the high school, one day I have private lessons. On the one day I'm not teaching English, I'm helping my dance prof at Paris 7 teach a class called "danse création". At the high school, I've ditched the idea of just bringing in a subject and talking about it -- that just doesn't work at all. Instead, we've been having debates, or, more popular, doing some roleplay. I write a scenario on a slip of paper and they imagine a conversation or sketch based on it. It's been remarkably popular, though some scenes work better than others.
As for my class at Paris 7, it's been remarkably helpful. It's sometimes incredibly overwhelming -- my teacher (also my mentor and coach) Anne often lets me lead exercises or parts of the class and will give me tips here and there. With the combination of watching the students closely, figuring out how to structure the class, and trying to give instructions and corrections in a language that still isn't perfectly familiar to me, it's exhausting!!
When I'm not teaching, I'm either on the metro or in dance class myself. I take three dance classes a week, two ballet and one contemporary. It's not enough, but it's what I can do right now. I'd have to pay for the next one myself and money's just a little tight at the moment, especially trying to plan ahead. I also still have my choreography workshop in addition. Soon I'll be adding on a directed research project, which rounds out the course list.
Yeah, I spend an incredible amount of time on the metro. While it's really cool -- it sure repeatedly ejects me from my bubble -- it does get tiring sometimes. Ah well -- can I really complain?
As the title of this post suggests, no. I can't.
In the time in between all that, I go out for drinks, for dinner. I meet friends, see films, have bitter espressos and amazing French food, eat bread. I go to soirées, I dance some more.
La vie est toujours belle.
I suppose it may be because I have been absolutely determined not to let the blues get me down -- I am in Paris, and thus do not consider it legitimate to mope about for two months. I've been pretty careful to keep my head in a good place and catch it whenever it gets off on one of its "I hate this time of year" rants.
It helps that the sun is coming out.
My host mom says that it's normal to have the first signs of Spring now, which, as a Colorado native growing up at 8200 feet above sea level and thus having spring sometime in late May, this is utterly bizarre to me. It seems far too early to even consider spring, but I sure hope she's right. Warmer weather and sunshine would be a-okay with me.
Of course, thanks to the temperature changes I have a lovely head cold and am somewhat in pain at the moment, but there you go. I'm still in Paris, and what's more....
I'm staying here until the end of July.
Yes you heard right. I asked a friend and got an offer to share an apartment for the summer, which means that my dream of celebrating my birthday in Paris and generally getting to see Paris in the summer is coming true. I'm going to work on finding a job, doing what I don't know yet, but we'll see. The point is, I'm here for the summer. I leave in August because there are people that I must see before I go back to New York in the fall, and I think I've gotten to the point where I know it will be the perfect time here and the perfect time to leave. Of course, I may always come back -- but that's too far away. As I've been learning to do this year -- sort of forced to learn -- I'm trying to live inside now.
One other big piece of news for the week is that this past saturday, thanks to Anne, I presented a solo - my own choreography - at a gala benefiting an association called 'Virades de l'espoir" and fights against a rare genetic respiratory disorder. It was a trip -- and I mean that in a couple different ways. The venue was in St Rèmy les Chevreuse, about an hour away on the RER train, so it's not really "à côté" as they say here, aka nearby. Also because my solo was about as different to the choreography of every other group there as Santa is to the Grinch BEFORE the Who's start singing. The other groups were all large in number, used music with a heavy dance electronic kind of beat, was just endless sharp movement, all performed facing the audience. There were a couple pieces that were the most formulaic pieces of dance I think I have ever seen.
To be fair, there was one piece that was really, really well done -- it was a mix of African and hip hop, and while I can't figure out what it was about it that made it so good, it had a emotional content, an intensity, and was just really well put together and staged.
However, I have to say that I felt pretty out of place -- my solo was really good, don't get me wrong, it's been worked on so much, but it's just a more subtle kind of dance that plays with energy and tension and suspension and release, and isn't the bang bang crowd pleasing kind of thing that was all over the place otherwise. I was pretty nervous -- it's been a LONG time since I danced a solo and it was my debut as a choreographer as well. It went well, I suppose, but there was just something kind of lacking...a kind of connection with the audience that is really important for me. It was just like, I danced, people clapped, and that was it -- but not the life-sparking, intoxicating connection that happened the other night at the Elysée Montmartre.
But there you have it, it was cool in any case.
So in general, what am I doing these days?
I'm teaching -- a lot. Three days a week I'm at the high school, one day I have private lessons. On the one day I'm not teaching English, I'm helping my dance prof at Paris 7 teach a class called "danse création". At the high school, I've ditched the idea of just bringing in a subject and talking about it -- that just doesn't work at all. Instead, we've been having debates, or, more popular, doing some roleplay. I write a scenario on a slip of paper and they imagine a conversation or sketch based on it. It's been remarkably popular, though some scenes work better than others.
As for my class at Paris 7, it's been remarkably helpful. It's sometimes incredibly overwhelming -- my teacher (also my mentor and coach) Anne often lets me lead exercises or parts of the class and will give me tips here and there. With the combination of watching the students closely, figuring out how to structure the class, and trying to give instructions and corrections in a language that still isn't perfectly familiar to me, it's exhausting!!
When I'm not teaching, I'm either on the metro or in dance class myself. I take three dance classes a week, two ballet and one contemporary. It's not enough, but it's what I can do right now. I'd have to pay for the next one myself and money's just a little tight at the moment, especially trying to plan ahead. I also still have my choreography workshop in addition. Soon I'll be adding on a directed research project, which rounds out the course list.
Yeah, I spend an incredible amount of time on the metro. While it's really cool -- it sure repeatedly ejects me from my bubble -- it does get tiring sometimes. Ah well -- can I really complain?
As the title of this post suggests, no. I can't.
In the time in between all that, I go out for drinks, for dinner. I meet friends, see films, have bitter espressos and amazing French food, eat bread. I go to soirées, I dance some more.
La vie est toujours belle.
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