One Chapter Closes as Another One Opens

I've been home for a few months now, and I keep trying sit down and write a final post about my experience, but it is hard to put into words all of the feelings and emotions that go along with such an ending.

I guess, I should tell the story to the ending first.

The last few weeks seemed to fly by. All of a sudden it was my last day of work; and an odd day it was. All of my regular classes were canceled. So, my plan to say goodbye to all my students fell through. Instead, I worked one-on-one with a young girl trying to improve her pronunciation of the Martin Luther King Speech. It was interesting trying to explain the meaning of the speech to her in French. I left that day without really any closure; no one said goodbye to me...no one really noticed. I said goodbye best I could to the students without disrupting classes.

I was bummed but I had bigger and better things ahead of me. Nick was coming in just two days and we had an adventure ahead of us! Or at least I thought.

This was all around April 17th or if you had been following international news just three days after the irruption of the volcano in Iceland. It would ultimately stop Nick from coming for our two weeks in Italy, and lead me to a two-day-travel-adventure to get home sooner.

Nick's flight was canceled the day he was due to leave and instead of spending a week in Chicago waiting for a flight out, we decided he should get his refund and I'd figure out a way home.

I went from having two weeks left to get all accounts shut down and seven-plus-months of clothes and memorabilia packed and ready to leave within five days. Now, in America that is no problem. In France in the middle of their spring break and when all forms of transportaion is shut down, it was like being in the middle of Nordstrom on Black Friday. The bank was closed two out of the three times I ended up going there, the train was on strike so there was limited tickets available and two hours lines to just get a ticket, and then there was the constant vigil I held on flightstats.com to see if my flight would even take off.

But, I'm getting ahead of myself...I haven't even explained the plan to get home. I had two options, get to Barcelona or Italy to fly back home. Either one was a toss up because who knew how long the ash would stay out of those airways. I went with my gut and I chose to get to Barcelona and take the soonest flight out. I got the last over night train ticket available for Tuesday, April 20th leaving from Paris to Barcelona that would get me there early morning, but not enough time to catch the cheap flight home.

I had found a ticket home for $500, which in the middle of an airlines crises that has kept millions of people stranded is a dirt cheap price. Only problem was I didn't have enough time from the train station to the airport to make it. So, I went back to the drawing board and found what would be the most expensive ticket I have ever purchased. It was well of $2,000 for coach. But it was my only option unless I wanted to wait another two weeks. So, I said goodbye to any future shopping trips and bought my way home.

This was all on Saturday when Nick was supposed to have arrived. So, the next three days I was neurotic with checking flightstats.com to see if my flight had taken off that day. Sunday: it didn't. I was in tears and came to the conclusion that I was going to have to stay longer and deal with it.

I know alot of you are probably thinking being trapped in Paris wouldn't be so bad, but when you've been away from the love of your life for so long and dreaming of this two week travel fest through Italy; it kind of a bummer. Also, at the time no one knew when this would stop or when the airports would open back up. We had no idea when we all might make it home. Luckily, I had great roommates who were totally supportive and helped me with everything, and also helped me to see that another few weeks wouldn't be the end of the world. Of course, after I came to that conclusion, the flight took off on Monday.

Booya, we were in business. I was going home!

After that, everything went surprisingly smoothly. I got to my bank to close my account, I finished packing a day ahead of leaving, and I got to spend my last day in Paris with my friends and just enjoy its beauty.

It took me approximately, 35 hours to get home. I had a 12-hour over night train ride, a three hour window at the airport, an eight hour flight from Barcelona to NYC, a six hour lay over and then a six hour flight to PDX. On top of that I had a total of four bags, one big enough to fit me inside of it, that I had to lug on the train, lug off the train, get in a cab, get to the airport, drop them off at check-in, pick them back up in customs at JFK, lug through a thousand people to walk through customs, put them back through check-in and then finally pick them up at baggage claim. (I made Nick carry them then and he had trouble with it!)

Another lucky break was that Barcelona was the ONLY airport in all of western Europe to stay open. My gut lead my right once again.

After I got home, we used the rest of Nick's vacation to go on a week and half road trip through California. It wasn't Italy but it was defiantly a great replacement.

Since I've been back, I've had all kinds of mixed feelings. I'm so happy to be home and starting my next chapter in life, but I have my moments when I miss Paris and it's old windy roads. There are some mornings where I wake up and don't know where I am, because I had just been dreaming of my Parisian apartment or our favorite restaurant or park. The whole adventure was such a mixture of emotions and experiences, I will always look back on it fondly and with a great feeling of accomplishment. Really, it's hard to write a final blog on the time there, because it has played such a big part in my life before, during and even after I was there.

Part of me still expects to be going back soon, and even though I don't know when, I know I'll be back someday walking through the windy streets of Paris, eating a pain au chocolat and remembering my days there.

Raiding King Louis XV's Wine Cellar

Last Friday, two of my room mates, me and a friend went wine tasting at Ô Chateau. A historic cellar that is walking distance to the Louvre and used to hold Louis XV's private collection for the court.

We did the Tour de la France tasting that included six wines: one champagne, two whites and three reds. All of them from different regions of France and each exquisite.

We also had a young sommiler, someone who knows their stuff about wine, who was in charge of leading us through the world of French wine. He was humorous, honest and knowledgeable.

He started off telling us the three steps of wine tasting.

step one:
- See.
Hold the glass by the stem; it is the best way to measure the clarity of wine . To measure the clarity of the wine hold it up towards the light-- look at it -- is it lighter or darker? If it has a lighter clarity than it is going to have more acidity than sugar... so more dry than sweet. If it has a darker clarity than it is going to be very sweet. Sweeter wine has a golden color to it...plus 250 grams of sugar. Dry wine will always be in a green or brown bottle and sweet wine will always be in a clear bottle.

He said that in France those are the only kinds of colors for bottles of wine you can find, but around the world that is changing...he once found a blue bottle of wine in Oregon.

Now to check the vintage of the wine, you must examine the wine's meniscus. To do that you continue to hold the glass side ways but hold a white piece of paper behind it; this will make it easier to see the two layers of color. The top layer is the meniscus. If the meniscus is paler than it is an older vintage and if the meniscus is darker it is a younger vintage.

Moving on to step two:
- Smell.
First you need to oxidize the wine by swirling it. Then you hold your nose up to the rim of the glass and inhale. Smell the different aromas.

There are five categories of flavors:
- Spice
- Flowers
- Fruity
- Woody/ Oak-y notes
- Animal flavors

Then raise your glass to your neighbor and dit santé (cheers) while looking them in the eye.


Step three:
- Taste.
Oxidize the flavors by taking a little bit of the wine into your mouth and swirling it around on the tip of your tongue. Best way to do that is to shape your mouth as an "o" and breath in while slightly moving your tongue. This will enhance the flavors and you will really sense the alcohol in the back of your throat.

He told us some neat wino facts, such as how to measure the amount of alcohol or sugar in the wine. If there is more sugar than alcohol, you have more legs (streaks that run down the side of your glass) but if the legs run down fast there is more alcohol than sugar.

He also explained how the weather can affect the vintage of wine; like in June or July when the grapes are warmer and dryer the vintage is better. Or in southern France the wine is darker in color because the weather is dryer and warmer year round thus giving it a higher potential to age.

And he touched on a few interesting wine cultural differences between France and other countries. Such as in their marketing for the bottles; it is illegal to name the grapes used in the wine over the name of the region. While in the "New World" (California and Australia) the focus is on the grapes from all over the country or state not on the region the wine is made in.

Another one was the difference between how we pair wine with food; we think of wine more as taste or a dessert. Where they pair the wine with food to enhance their diets between salt, fat and sugar. For example, they'll balance a high in fat meal with an acidic wine, because the acid in the wine will eat some of the fat from the food.

It was a blast and a perfect way to spend part of an afternoon in Paris. We learned about French wine, culture and all while in a historic location.

Another Fastforward

I know I had another drop off the face-of-the-blogging-world, So I'm going to do a quick catch up (plus try to blog regularly for the next month)!

When I came back from Christmas break, I wrote a few blogs but
really didn't have much positive things to say. I was close to a breaking point and really wanted to return to the states. So instead of blogging about it, I decided to just power through and focus on spending time with my room mates and distracting myself from being desperately homesick...until my next trip home.

My mom was a big support in helping me through the first week back, plus some. I had horrible jet lag and was sick, which made it unable for me to sleep the first four nights back (even with a double the dose of sleeping pills). My mom sat with me for hours on the phone keeping me calm and trying to talk me to sleep. After a week of talking at all hours of the night/day and across the cont, she decided to come visit me in early February and celebrate her birthday here.

So, Mommy saved the day and came to spend eight whole days with me. We had a lovely, lovely time together. We stayed in a hotel a few blocks from the Arc de Triomphe that was close to the train station to my work; we had wonderful French dinners together and shared a glass of wine at each meal; we warmed up over several café viennois; we read four books together and watched Friends laughing late into the night; and we spent a day in Reims and a relaxing weekend in Tours. We survived the bone chilling wind, a random snow storm and the gray skies. We learned through those chilly days that a little sunshine and blue skies transforms Paris into the magic city we all love and dream of.

It was the perfect mother, daughter trip. She brought home to me and helped me make it through the last dreary days of winter.

A week after my mom left, I got to go home for another school break and spend some much needed time with my fiance. While I was back in Portland, we were able to find the location for our wedding (Oh la chance!!), go snowboarding, celebrate my friends birthday, have dinners with family and friends, and go to a Blazers game! A wonderful two weeks.

Again, I found myself dragging my feet to leave again, but I'm very glad I did (many thanks to my very supportive fiance and family), because I've learned a great deal about myself and inner strength. Many people won't be able to understand why living in Paris is so much more than the glamor of it all but a challenge, but I'll know how much I've concord and grown from the experience. I know I can achieve anything now, and that is priceless to have full confidence in oneself.

A Dream Realized

My whole love for Paris and everything French originated from a book my Dad used to read to me called "This is Paris." It was my Dad who got me interested in the architecture in Paris and led to my desire to learn the language. My Dad and I weren't that close when I was growing up, and I had always dreamed of coming to Paris with him and exploring the streets we used to read about together.

Today I realized that dream. I picked my Dad and Sister up from the airport around 7:30 this morning. Originally, I wasn't supposed to be here because we had a scheduling error and I was going to be in Dublin, Ireland for St. Patty's day when they arrived. I decided to stay and see them instead, and it was worth every penny.

They've only been here for a few hours, and are currently napping, but I couldn't be happier and can't wait to take them for a walk around my neighborhood, La place de la Bastille, and show them the life I've been living here for the last six months.

Paris is...Paris

Over the holiday break, I had tons of people asking me how it was to live in Paris, and not too many were thrilled when I told them it was hard.

Paris has this blown up image that it is some magical place that when you come here there will be nothing but butterflies and unicorns dancing you down the street. But it's not like that.

Paris is like any other big city-- there are too many people, dirty streets, crowded public transportation and sketch balls.

It doesn't make the daily three hour commute to work any more special, the blistering cold wind any easier to tolirate, four room mates in a two bedroom apartment a picnic in July or the creep who stole your phone or touched himself while looking at you on the metro your best friend.

Paris is...well...just Paris.

And don't get me wrong, it does have many positives to it: the history, culture, food, language and much more. But that doesn't mean everyday I've spent here has been a royal ball with glass slipper and all. It has been a huge learning experience into what I want out of life and where I want to be. It has been a challenge, not a vacation.

Catch Up

So, I'm a little behind on my blogs lately...After my last it has
been a whirlwind of activities--here's the low down:

My boyfriend, Nick, came to visit me for two weeks in the end of
November, beginning of December. He surprised me with a very romantic proposal on the kissing bridge, which has the tradition on Valentines day of couples going, kissing and locking a padlock with their names on it to the bridge. I had told him about the bridge (but not about the tradition) and asked him to bring a padlock. It was a surprise what it was for. So, that morning I wrote our initials on it with the date we started dating and the current date. I left the other side blank for him. When we got to the bridge, I offered him the lock to write something on it and went to kiss him. While we were kissing he wrote "will you marry me?" and hooked the ring onto the bridge with the padlock. I went to look at it, looked at him and said "Are you kidding me?!" He was down on one knee, and an American couple was yelling,"OMG!" I said, "Of course."

We also went to Oslo, Norway (his country of origin) for a weekend; where we learned that yes, it is the most expensive city in the world, but also very clean and beautiful. He also helped me and my room mates host a Thanksgiving dinner here-- where for many Frenchies, it was their first.

Two weeks after he left, I returned home for the holidays after almost three months of being away. During those two weeks we managed to squeeze in a plethora of activities.

It decided to snow in Paris two days before I was supposed to leave. So, when it was time for my plane to sore off into the great blue skies towards Amsterdam...we were delayed on the tarmac for two hours because the weather had caused some mechanical thing to freeze.
By the time we landed in Amsterdam, my connecting flight to Portland was taking off...without me on board. I thus began the fight for a flight home with a few thousand other stranded people. I was lucky, I only had to wait in line for a few hours to talk with a flight agent. They first rescheduled me for a flight for the next day that wouldn't get me home till after five p.m. west coast time and three hours after our engagement party would have started. The news of that caused me to lose my cool, and I started to cry. After explaining the situation, she told me I had the option to go on stand-by for a flight to Vancouver B.C. and then a flight to Seattle. She offered to hold my flight for the next day too, so I had nothing to lose.

I held a three hour vigil at the gate while on stand-by along with 25 other people. Somehow, I was the first one to get a ticket on the flight. So after about six hours of what would have been into my original flight home, I boarded a plane-- thinking the worst was over.

When we landed in Vancouver B.C., I got to go through American costumes because I was taking an immediate flight to Seattle. Well I was delayed there because I didn't have the next boarding pass and couldn't get through security. Once they managed to get that for me, I was delayed at customs because one of my bags was missing and they wouldn't let me through without it. After sitting for a half-an-hour (I had an hour layover, and had already been delayed at security for 20mins) they managed to get me a missing bag report and let me through. Even though I ran thirty gates, I still missed the last flight to Seattle.

Next step? No, not a hotel. Mission get on U.S. soil.

Nick was already on his way to the SeaTac airport, and I didn't want to wait another night. In Canada if you are over 21 you can rent a car, and that's exactly what I did. It was a little tricky cause I would be crossing the boarder and then needed to be 25. So, I had to pay an underage fee for that, and going across the boarder was interesting too. The agent was a little curious as to why: first, I was driving from Canada and second didn't have any luggage after being in Paris for three months.

By the time I met Nick in Blaine, Washington at the International Motel-- I had been traveling for 26 hours, had been in four different countries and crossed four different customs. Also, ended up going to four different airports: Paris, Amsterdam, Seattle and Portland (had to stop at SEA and PDX to look for my luggage).

Even though my luggage was lost for five days and getting home was a challenge, I had a wonderful holiday vacation. We celebrated our engagement, had four Christmases with all our families, learned how to snowboard and had New Year's with friends.

Coming back to Paris was definitely a challenge for me. It's hard to leave family and loved ones so soon.

Paris, Barcelona, Paris, and Athens

Lauren, my room mate, and I have gone on two trips since moving to Paris six weeks ago. Our first was a weekend-jaunt to Barcelona, Spain.

It was the first real cloudy, windy and wet week in Paris. And by Thursday morning we were sick of it. So, I wasn't too surprised when Lauren sent me a text wanting to know if I'd be up to hopping a plane to Barcelona that night. Why not? When in Paris, right?

After rushing home from work, and throwing some clothes in a bag; we were off to the airport for some sunshine and late October tans.

We didn't land in Barcelona till around midnight, and crashed into bed around 1:30 a.m.

Bright and sunshiny early, we headed off to the center of Barcelona-- La Ramblas. During our weekend stay, we pretty much spent our entire time walking up and down La Ramblas admiring the odd street performers and merchants. They sold all kinds of things, from jewelry to pets (bunnies, birds, chickens, mice, ect).

We also took a hop-on-hop-off bus around to all the touristy stuff. Our favorite was Park Guell, which was designed by the famous Spanish architect Antoni Gaudi. It was beautiful with all the flowers, greenery and the tiled architecture -- very breath taking and original. The park is in a French film called "L'Auberge Espagnole."

La Ramblas is also known for pick pockets and even though we were on the look out, my purse was still almost stolen. While waiting for the hop-on-hop-off bus we sat down by a fountain to talk. There were many people around doing the same. A man sat down next to me and I didn't think much of it except he was rather close and breathing heavily. After awhile of him fidgeting, I glanced down and noticed he had his finger on my purse. I instantly grabbed it, placed it in my lap and told Lauren we should leave. I think while he was fidgeting he had managed to move my purse closer to him, because I had originally placed it in between our legs. As soon as we were in line for the bus, two men approached us stating they were police and saw the man had tried to steal my bag. Needless to say it was a little more excitement than I needed.

Unfortunately, it was not very warm. Even though it was sunny, there was a constant wind keeping it just chilly enough to prevent any sun bathing.

--more to come on Athens--

Seven Months in Paris

My name is Caitlin, and I'm a recent graduate of the University of Oregon. I'm currently living in Paris, France and will be for the next seven months -- working as an English assistant at an Elementary school in the NW suburbs of Paris.

This blog is going to follow the adventures and experiences of what happens while I live in Paris. A look into the quirks and differences of a new culture and starting a new in a different country -- all while speaking a different language. Mainly, this is a fun way to stay in touch with my family and loved ones, but maybe you'll find something of interest or helpful throughout my posts. My boyfriend may also be adding additional notes from his perspective of this experience.

Le Début

So, I'm a little behind on starting this blog. I've been in Paris for almost a month now, and though I've had plenty of adventures so far to write about, I have yet to actually sit down and put keyboard to screen. So what a better time than to start now on a drizzly Wednesday afternoon?

My adventure started before the sun had even risen on the 25th of September when my boyfriend, Nick, and I packed his car to the brim with my four suitcases and left for the Portland Airport. The unexpected started immediately, when I went to check my luggage and received a whopping $600 fee from my bags. (Side note: Triple check the baggage rules of your airlines for international flights, and if they will be charging you for cross country luggage or international. Later on, I learned that I was charged for flying my bags to JFK where I caught my transfer flight-- not the same as the international price!) After a rushed and tearful goodbye, I was on my way to the city of lights.

I arrived in the beautiful city of Paris on September 26th bright and early-- completely overwhelmed, sleep deprived and tear stained. Luckily, I had a ride from Charles de Gaulle from the Lovely Monique to her apartment. After she whisked me away down the chaotic and windy streets of Paris and set me up in her apartment, the full load of what I was about to do started to settle in.

Tired, homesick and lost in translation, I began my first day in Paris with Monique as my guide. We went to get my picture taken for my Navigo (Metro, Train and Bus pass), to the phone store (a whole other story) and almost to the train station before I completely collapsed of exhaustion.

I finally went to bed at the ripe hour of five p.m. after 20 hours of traveling and a full day of errands to be wide awake three hours later. I can only say thank the technology gods for the Laptop, Internet and Skype, or else I wouldn't of made it through those first few days of homesickness.

After two days of staying at Monique's, I went to join my new room mates Lauren and Lindsey at a hotel where we stayed for the next two weeks until our apartment was ready.

Over the last month I have learned: Nothing is simple in France (opening bank accounts, phone plans and apartments), the challenges of working in a foreign country, of the difficulties of language barriers, and the test of living with four girls in a two bedroom apartment.