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Tag: Paris

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Bonjour à Tous!!

Last time I wrote I talked about the fact that I would be switching positions from someone who gives out food to those in need, to someone who collects the food dropped off at Serve the City's building. This has been a bit of a challenge because I now have to take and understand directions in french (which are said very fast) as well as interact even more with the workers who do not speak any English! I was a bit nervous about this because I always doubt my French skills, and I was worried once they found that I was slower at communicating, they wouldn’t really interact with me. This is actually not the case at all! As everyone in the packing department has been very welcoming and even when I haven’t been able to exactly convey my thoughts they have been quick to meet me half way. It’s been great to understand why people decided to work with this organization and the highlights and struggles of the job. 

I suppose so far the accomplishments I am most proud of besides helping people in need, are the fact that I can definitely say I have been all around Paris and off the beating path! I’ve seen parts of Paris that I didn’t even think about going to before and I feel like that’s a major pro of volunteering in a new city. I am also proud of how far my french has come since volunteering here, a result of having to speak it on a daily basis. I still report to the volunteer supervisor so my responsibilities have not really changed but people know me now so I can kind of do my own thing.

I have been having an amazing time volunteering with Serve the City Paris, and it’s a bit hard for me to believe that in a little over a month I’ll be on a flight back home to the states! The people I have met, have already impacted my life in the best way and I hope the little work that I partake in has helped lessen the load that this amazing organization undertakes.

À Bientôt! MEKAYLA

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By Marissa Kirshenbaum

This weekend, I went to Normandy with my program. The sight of D-Day and the entire battle that liberated France from Germany, the region of Normandy in the north of France is integral to the nation's history in the context of the second World War, yet simultaneously important to France's relationship with the United States. Before coming to Paris, I knew that D-Day was important to history, but I did not know to what extent it was still referenced to and talked about in the modern day.

France is a country with a very long history. It has seen five different republics, countless kings and queens, emperors, and revolutions. Juxtaposed to France, the United States is like a young kid finding its way: so young that it is confused and progressive all at once with enough energy to keep its momentum going for a long time. The two countries are drastically different when it comes to their histories. However, the one true thing that they have in common is the Battle of Normandy. I have thought it so interesting for months how French people seamlessly make fun of Americans, yet at the same time almost strive to be just like them. On occasion, they poke fun with our accents and discredit our global knowledge, yet at the same time, they respect us. They sport our clothing brands, they watch our movies, and they dream of visiting our country. As a sweeping generalization, they seem to hate to love us. And why? In part, because of the Battle of Normandy.

Since my first week in Paris, I have heard of French people adoring Americans because "we saved them in the war." At first, I discounted this as a stretch of our history with the French. However, as the weeks passed and the confusion ensued, I realized that in fact, no matter what we as a country seem to do, French people continue to like us because of the sacrifices that we made for them during the war. As a country of tradition, it is not surprising that they share a long memory.

...continue reading "Thank you, U.S.A!"

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By Marissa Kirshenbaum

Life abroad is all about adjusting your mindset. You are in a weird place, knowing more than the tourist yet always less than the local. You look like you belong there, and people don't doubt it until you open your mouth, but you cannot associate with the vacationers. You are caught in between two different mindsets, and sometimes you can't even notice it until something interrupts the constant flow.

For me, this is what happened over Spring Break when my boyfriend came to visit. His French vocabulary comprised one word, "bonjour", and only recently grew to include "merci" and "s'il vous plaît": he is a raw American, a type that I have not interacted with that often since my time living in Paris. Over the course of the week, he brought things up to my attention that I had never noticed before about the city: he just saw things differently. He noticed the bilingual ads in the metro, the cafe seats facing the street, and the rapid weather changes. He compared the city to its American counterparts: New York, D.C., and Boston, using descriptions that I had never thought of before. Growing up learning about French culture through my nine years of language education, I had grown used to the differences that he noticed so blatantly. He allowed me to change my mindset around the city a little bit to an identity that is more familiar to me. For the first time, I saw Paris as an exploring American rather than an impersonating Parisian.

Perhaps the biggest mindset change happened when my host parents invited us over for dinner. Seeing as my boyfriend does not speak French and my host family does not speak English, I became the designated translator. Over the past month and a half, I have gotten so used to my way of living in my homestay. On the first day, I was so overwhelmed with the idea that I would not be able to speak at all in my native tongue to any of the members of the host family, but at this point it came as second nature. To have to change my mindset, my actual language and thought process when conversing with my boyfriend and with my host family was a strange yet eye-opening experience.

...continue reading "Switching Gears"

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By Marissa Kirshenbaum

At this stage in my abroad experience, I feel as though I can more properly compare the two cultures in which I have lived. I can more confidently say what I like and don't like, with enough life experience to back it up that it doesn't come across un-researched and unprofessional. Now, I feel confident to declare what things I dislike about French society without seeming petty, the things that I miss from back home. On the contrary, I I can also say what I love more about France. As a short list, I can confidently say that although my love for cheese was birthed in the U.S., French cheese has stolen my heart. I can say that popcorn at the movies in America is more suited to my tastes in comparison to the butter-less and salt-enhanced French popcorn. Besides matters of food, there is one aspect of French society that has me looking more to the East: the culture of striking.

La grève, the strike, the headache. Like the fact that winter is a constant rainfall in a sky of gray, the French do not advertise their culture of strikes. It was first presented to me in my "Business French" class when my professor joked about how to Parisians, protesting is like a sport. Whenever they feel passionate about a certain issue, they take it to the streets. You have to admire this action-based way of trying to make change happen. I am all too used to hearing strong-willed words from angry American citizens without seeing the mouths behind the statements. Strikes seemed like a proactive way to combat issues. They make a statement, and they sure are noisy.

However, what happens to the child who throws a fit every time that they don't get ice cream after a meal? They get ignored. As soon as the month of April hit, it was strike season, and the appeal wore off. Three days of work, two days of strikes. Like clockwork. Trains delay, flights are canceled, buses are stopped. Reform is all about progress, so why do we have to regress?

I believe in speaking your mind, and I am passionate about equal rights in the workforce. However, I feel as though la grève can inconvenience more than it aids its point. Is it not the lay public that you want to vote for your reform?

We, the people, want the metro.

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By mekaylatucker

Bonjour à tous!!

Mekayla here, reporting from Paris where its...raining… yep still raining... but any who…

After going back and fourth and trying to figure out which volunteer opportunity to choose, I decided that I would go with Serve the City: Paris!! I have been working with them for just about 4 weeks and I volunteer about two times a week. It has been cold but a great experience. There are currently about 2000 people on the streets in Paris, so what Serve the City does is recruit volunteers to collect or distribute food for people in need. So far, I have decided to hand food out, which means I am usually freezing or wet, as Paris has not gotten out of winter yet unfortunately, but it allows me to get to know other volunteers and most importantly, practice my French.

For me, the biggest challenges I am facing have to do with the language barrier as I still have a hard time understanding French when it is spoken very rapidly. I think the best way for me to overcome this is just to continue to push myself outside of my comfort zone as much as possible because once I get used to the rapidness, I will be able to get it down. The benefits of volunteering with Serve the City is that I am able to see so much more of Paris than I probably would otherwise, which is exactly what I wanted. I also just love helping people and to see the instant happiness on peoples faces when they see food gives me hope that the little I am doing here may help them even if it is just for the day.

Overall I am incredibly excited to see where else volunteering with Serve the City will take me. This week I have decided to do more of the collecting of food to see the other side of operations. The environment at Serve the City is great and it is mostly young people, so it is great to hear what French young adults feel about the state of their country and specifically problems like homelessness in Paris. I am so excited to take you all on this journey with me! Stayed Tuned!

(Hopefully I survive this continued rain!)

À Bientôt!

Published on

By Marissa Kirshenbaum

This weekend I did something that I had yet to do in my (almost) eight week adventure in Paris: I traveled alone. I did not cross any international borders or even go very far at all. I stayed in the city, but I traveled through it by myself. I went to countless monuments and museums, I walked over bridges and through tunnels, I sat and I strolled. I saw Paris through a different lens this weekend, a lens that presented the city as a sight of exploration rather than a the scene of classwork and tight schedules. When something caught my eye, I went to it. When I felt like walking to a new spot, I did so. No rules, no constraints, no boundaries.

It took me a while to feel comfortable enough in Paris to be able to travel through it alone. Even though my normal collegian life is spent in a city, it took time to readjust back to the urban lifestyle as well as to the culture of studying abroad. Just because you are used to living in a city doesn't mean that it is easy to live in any city in the world. Every change in life requires an adjustment period, and studying abroad in no different.

I have finally reached that place where I feel extremely comfortable in Paris. I don't clutch my bag every second in fear that somebody will pickpocket me, and I don't hesitate to sit close to someone on the metro even though there is an open seat. When I bump into someone, I say "Pardon!" instead of "Sorry!", and when someone on the street offers to make me a bracelet I just walk on by instead of indulging in their con act. These little adjustments have helped me to feel more like a local, like someone who is well-versed in the subtleties of the Parisian urban lifestyle. Because of this, I have gained the confidence to be able to travel places on my own without any fears or hesitations.

...continue reading "A Day with Marissa"

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By Marissa Kirshenbaum

It's funny how the first time I truly felt like Paris was my home was the minute I left it. When you travel, you simultaneously indulge in a different culture and reminisce about the place you left behind. You compare, and you analyze. The second you begin to juxtapose your trip with your normal life, you recognize that "normality" as the place that you call home. And that is what is truly special.

My first trip was to Milan, a spontaneous voyage one of the first weekends into my program. I was so excited to go to Italy, a place I so passionately hoped to visit that it has practically been engraved into my bucket list for as long as I can remember. I absolutely loved the sights, the food, and the atmosphere: although geographically close to France, Italy does not nearly resemble it. I found myself making note of the people and the culture of Milan, and analyzing its similarities and differences to Paris. Some things were positively different, while others were a negative change. I found comfort in my comparisons, for I felt as though I knew enough about Paris to compare it.

This pattern of comparing and analyzing leaked into second trip to Brussels, and even more into my most recent voyage to Fez. I remembered Paris when I was traveling, keeping it alive in my thoughts as I walked different streets. Paris was in Italy, in Belgium, and in Morocco. Rather than a weekend trip or a check off of a travel list, Paris was the destination at the end of everything, the place to come back to.

...continue reading "Chez Moi"

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Shakespeare once questioned: "What's in a name?". A name, however permanent and solidified it may be in one language, is ironically also arbitrary. It is only until you enter foreign territory, where a name is different, that you realize that all along what you considered so fortified was in fact solely constructed.

Since living in Paris, I have become so aware of language: its use, its meaning, and its connotations. Language builds walls but also barriers. The other day, my professor lectured on the idea that in terms of culture, although one thing can be true, its opposite can also be true in another culture. Therefore, if language is a force to bring people together, it is also the thing that can set us apart.

I have been taking French for nine years, and although I do not consider myself fluent just yet, I would confidently say that I can communicate with other people in this language. However, language barriers still continue to exist. I find myself taking things too literally in conversations, like a child who doesn't understand sarcasm. I find myself searching for specific words in my mind, and then resorting to silence because I could not bring myself to correctly engage in a conversation. It is very hard to learn another language, even if you are immersed within its culture.

...continue reading "The Phantom of the Opera"

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By Marissa Kirshenbaum

Think to yourself, "What is the first thing that comes to my mind when I think of Paris?". I'm guessing that right now you are thinking about either the Eiffel Tower, a bunch of striped-shirt and beret wearing men with moustaches carrying a baguette, or some cheese. Now, keep in mind that two of the aforementioned stereotypes include food. The gastronomy of France is integral, essential, and embedded into the culture of the country. Understanding how one eats in Paris is as important to the comprehension of the society as understanding how a suburban kid in the United States navigates the college decision process. However, what puzzles me the most is not necessarily the eating habits of the people and how close their relationship is to food, but more so why their relationship with food differs from our own, a country that undoubtedly loves a great meal. What is different about our love for food in the United States in opposition to that of France?

Any hopeful study abroad student venturing off to Paris will learn after doing research before their arrival that gastronomy in France is central to the culture: but what does this mean? For starters, people here do not take their food "to go", or even walk with it on the street. Food is to be enjoyed while sitting down and engaging in meaningful conversation with pleasant company. A meal is not something to be rushed. Products are free of preservatives, and everything that one eats is made fresh, without the influx of importation. This is all well and good, but it goes further than this. As I mentioned in my first blog, cultural norms go further beneath the surface and cannot be fully observed or understood without an eye for analyzation. A person's cooking in France is more than just a plate of food. Indulging in a meal is like opening up someone's gift: it is special, thoughtful, and must be enjoyed to the fullest degree. If you don't finish a plate of food, it is thought that you did not like it, and therefore do not appreciate the actions that the cook has made in order to provide you with this alimentation. This deeper meaning into the significance of food is key to understanding the French person and their way of life: once you indulge in one's meal and enjoy their company over freshly cooked food, you become closer to them in a way that cannot be experienced in the United States. Rather than solely a necessity for life, a meal is life itself.

...continue reading "À la Table!"

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Hey everyone!

I assume that if you're reading this you are either interested in studying abroad, curious about a life in Paris, or one of my beloved friends or family members. What I have to say this week, for my very first post on how I have been affected by living in another country, will hopefully provide enough insight to make my loved ones understand the cultural changes I have experienced, or will help the wondering and excited students to fully comprehend the meaning of study abroad. I will begin with this: I am no expert, and I don't intend to be one after my three and a half months in Paris. All I know right now is that study abroad is a whirlwind of an experience, one filled with childlike exploration in addition to independent navigation in a world unfamiliar to yours.

My story begins almost three weeks ago when I scurried off the plane in Paris, fatigued and unsure of what I was supposed to do. I had mixed feelings about touching the ground after my six hour flight, something that not everyone necessarily feels but what people even rarely talk about. I was so nervous. Of course there are people that mentally prepare for an experience such as the one I had just thrown myself into, but I didn't give much thought to the fact that I would be living rather than visiting a foreign country for the next few months of my life. This means grocery shopping, completing homework, and using transportation all in a country that I had only seen for ten days prior in a high school class trip.

For me, Paris was always the destination. I have been an admirer of French culture and a dreamer of life abroad since the first day of French class in sixth grade, when my teacher relayed to us his experiences of living in Paris. Having never known this was an option, I dreamed of historic cobblestone streets and the iconic monuments for years. There's something very special about a dream that becomes reality, but it is also a little scary. With a dream this large comes years and years of buildups of expectations, and there is enough social pressure to live out your dream to the absolute fullest to be able to suffocate you. What I have learned these past few weeks is that it is essential to separate what others want for you and what you personally want to get out of your experiences. People seem to think they know what is going on because of the outlet that social media gives to our outer circles, but the truth about apps like Snapchat, Instagram, and Facebook is that they don't show study abroad. Study abroad is everything that happens between the uploaded pictures.

...continue reading "Explore More Than You Study"

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