Parker Mullins

So I’m the kind of person who frequently gets hooked on songs. They get stuck in my head and I can’t stop singing them to myself. My only catharsis in these situations is to play the song loud and often. I like these songs, so I thought I would start sharing them in a series of posts called “Song of the AM,” or “SOTA” (see what I did there?).

My first SOTA is “Sunlight” by Modestep:

The video for this song is a few old people partying harder than I have ever imagined. I don’t care how much you might dislike dub/DnB/club/electro, you can’t hate this video. But the song is pretty great too. I can’t get it out of my head the last few days. Yes, the vocals may be a bit repetitive (by my count, it somehow manages to use 20 less words than Rihanna and Calvin Harris’ “We Found Love”), but this song somehow avoids the repetitive trap that made “We Found Love” its victim with some massive drops (my personal favorite), a clean effective tempo shift, and a great drum ‘n’ bass backbeat.

I have changed my blog address, and with that I will be changing the format of my posts a bit. I am no longer abroad (sadly) and so I have decided instead to reflect on my life, my experiences, and my surroundings here in Minneapolis, Minnesota. I really have no idea where this might take me, so I would be honored if you chose to stick with me and follow along as I try to explore life through this blog.

My good friend Brian (he’s the one in the pictures) shared this a little over a week ago with our friends from our time in Paris and I couldn’t help but share it with you. Although some of the details are personal to our friends, and some of our opinions are a different (there is much better cuisine than French, Brian – its way too thick, creamy, and meat-based for me), I think it is a wonderful summary of our time abroad (although he was lucky enough to do a bit more traveling than I…).

“Ah ma vie! The suitcases have been put back into storage.  The innumerable pictures sorted, (posted on facebook of course), cataloging a journey that seems comme un rêve in retrospect. Reunions with friends and quintessential American cravings satisfied: a juicy burger, a slice of pizza, a bean burrito, skim milk. Home is how it has always been; steadfast, familiar, and filled with a constant stability. And yet surrounded by a life that I have always known, I find myself thinking, “Can I go back to Paris already?”

Although my life in Paris lasted only 4 months, they were 4 glorious months; without a doubt the best of my life. My time in Europe can best be described as a dream, for surely real life does not consist of frolicking in Paris everyday where the doctor-prescribed cure for boredom is to hop on a plane and fly to a new country. I visited 10 countries in 4 months! Sometimes when I reminisce I am unable to comprehend how much I saw in so little time. I have always possessed the traveling bug but hopping to a new city each weekend serves as such stark contrast to the reality I have returned to in the US. Despite the travels, we somehow managed to learn a lot without having any homework. I would not really call study abroad college, yet I feel pretty well versed in French politics and I think I can call myself quite the savant concerning the tumultuous history of the city of lights (not to mention French cheese).

But oh what a city Paris is! For those ignorant few, who cannot appreciate the grandeur and beauty of a city so steeped in a timeless history or those who see Paris as a city of snobs not worth visiting, I really have nothing to say. La Ville de Lumiere has a sparkle that simply cannot be matched by any other place that I have ever witnessed. It is true that the Parisians are proud, but in my estimation they are entitled to pride, living in such a city like Paris. They actually enjoy Americans, especially the younger generation, probably in part due to their support for Obama. Surprisingly they fail to smoke as much as the movies depict, although it is quite jarring to see 20 high school students lighting up outside of class. And for the life of me, I really have yet to figure out the secret of how they all stay so damn skinny. I mean they definitely eat less but the food is just so decadent! MY GOD. Heaven is surely fed by a French chef. Pastries, Baguettes, Cheese, Wine, Escargot, Duck Confit, Foie gras… I don’t need to go on. It’s the best food in the world. WITHOUT A DOUBT.

Nonetheless, having toured Europe and been fortunate enough to see many countries in my 21 years, I can confidently say that Paris is the most beautiful city in the world. Just start with the Haussmanian buildings: uniform yet so ornate, probably the reason why Paris earns such an allure. There is something magical about walking around Paris, best seen from the stunning opera district with its grand boulevards and balconies running for as far as the eye can see, that makes one stop and simply marvel. Or how can you not fall in love with Paris if you see the Eiffel tower sparkle? Gaze at it from anywhere in the city and there is something so captivating and romantic that just causes you to sigh in hopeless restlessness, either that or fake cry over the fact that there is no one beside you to kiss passionately. WARNING. If you see it sparkle from Trocadero, a stroke induced out of sheer emotion-induced overload may result. Furthermore, here is a philosophical conundrum to mull over: What is more beautiful, Paris at night or Paris during the day (preferably the Spring time)? I really have not decided, and I don’t think I ever will when I’m faced with ranking a stroll along the Seine with a Berthillion cone in hand versus a nighttime romp around the Louvre to see le grand pyramid and get a drink.

As for a favorite neighborhood in Paris, that is just too hard of a designation. I mean ask all my friends and they will tell you that I’m in love with the 16th arrondissement, my home for 4 months. (It’s an Eden, don’t let them tell you any different) But I cannot call it my favorite when St. Germain des Pres is in the mix where adorable boutique shopping lines the streets or perhaps Le Marais, where one really sees Paris before Haussman with narrow streets filled with secrets waiting to be discovered. But then how can one forget the Latin Quarter or Bastille, great for bar hopping at night and always beautiful during the day. Explore Rue de Rivoli and Rue St. Honore if you want to get fancy or the quaint Ile St. Louis which is just a picturesque island yearning to be explored. I mean don’t get me wrong, I wouldn’t want to spend a Friday night in Porte de Clignancourt or Belleville, but stroll with me in the 7th, maybe along the Seine, and we are set for a magical evening.  Having visited Paris before, never did I think that I would fall in love with its sights, sounds, people, food, and overall persona in the way that I did. Truthfully I do not understand why I failed to see that Paris is perfect for me; its decadent, chic nature, slight haughtiness, class, propriety… I mean come on, am I describing myself?

But possibly the most important detail, without which Paris would have paled in comparison, is finding the great friends I made during my time in Europe. More than just companions in class or good company when hitting up the bars, we traveled around Europe together and made strong friendships through our both breathtaking and crazy escapades. I always said that traveling serves as one of the best tests of friendship and after almost 10 trips, I think we’re in it for the long-run kids. We laughed, we cried (except me of course who just fake cried when applicable), we sang, and we became so close within mere weeks. Never before have I felt so at ease with a group of people after so little time! Whether dealing with crazy gypsy bitches, avoiding bus explosions, or simply dealing with a plethora of interesting characters at IES, we killed it in Paris. Sitting here writing this in my living room, I really wish that we were all together again (in Paris of course, not the suburbs of NJ) possibly staring out at the Seine, or hitting up Queen, or just hanging out together at one of our Parisian apartments…

They say you don’t know what you have until it’s gone, but I always knew what I had in Paris. From the first time I got into a cab that took me from Gare de l’Est to my apartment, I knew that Paris had my heart at first glimpse. Driving past the center of Paris with all its iconic monuments and then along the Seine with the Eiffel Tower looming above the rooftops, I felt like I was Anne Hathaway in the Devil Wears Prada; googly-eyed and marveling at my luck for being able to spend my life in a such a beautiful city. But just as soon as I arrived, sadly, it seemed as though the clock struck 12 necessitating me to take my leave. As my host mother took me down the same route again, back to Gare de L’Est, I saw all the sights but now they were more than just postcard images but rather filled with memories. She said to me in French, look well, because this is the last time you will see the monuments of Paris. But I smiled and said “Je vais retourner à Paris, C’est certain”. And I know that I will.

Thank you Paris. To my time abroad I owe so much. Although the time flew by in the snap of my finger, looking back I feel like I left home a long time ago. Possibly due to the fact of my numerous travels, or maybe rather due to the fact that I just did so much every day in Paris. But I think the real reason is because I myself grew a lot in Paris. When I came back to my room for the first time, I felt out of place. Almost as if my room were too small, as if I’d outgrown its walls. Paris revived me. Paris lifted me up and maybe bitchslapped me a few times into seeing reason. Truly, Paris taught me a lot about myself and also elucidated what I wanted in life. It’s pretty hard not to be pensive when looking out at a Greek sunset (or maybe 7 for that matter), staring at the Eiffel tower as it sparkles, or simply letting your mind wander on 1 of maybe 20 flights. I looked at my life and really reassessed everything: friendships, ambitions, ideals, and those things that I need the most to attain that potentially holy grail that we call happiness. I think that I was imbued with the nature of a quintessential Parisian, no doubt aided by the swagger of some crazy friends. But truthfully life in the fast lane showed me that life can be marvelous, reaffirming my belief to never allow myself to settle for anything less than wonderful.

On my last night in Paris I walked home from the dinner cruise (through eden-like streets of course), reminiscing on undoubtedly one of the top five days of my life, I thought back on the semester and smiled for I had attained all that I wanted out of my time abroad. Looking back at pictures and just thinking about all that I did, I still catch myself smiling as my mind replays wonderful memories. As for now it is off to a new city and new adventures, though Paris really endowed me with a sense that I can do anything. Maybe I’m just fou-fou, but feeling empowered is not the worst thing in the world, right? I know that throughout my life glimpses of all those memories will resurface inducing a passing smile. I saw so much in 4 months and spent time with people who I really came to love. I am certain that those memories will never stray too far, always close at hand to add a little perspective to the sinuous paths of life. JE SAIS that we will always have Paris.

Merci Paris, Tu possedes mon coeur.”

As a part of being a student blogger for IES (my study abroad program), we are asked to write a post when we return to our homes after our time abroad. When I first returned home I thought it would be easy. Life was good, the transition was easy, even the jet lag was nothing. I planned on writing this wrap-up of my semester in Paris then, but decided against it. It was too soon. The honeymoon period had to end sooner or later.

But strangely enough, acclimation into being at home never changed. It was like I never left. Nothing surprised me. And I haven’t made any slip-ups, save a couple small habits I picked up, like closing the door on every room when I leave (those Parisian drafts are deadly-or so they say). In a way, it is a huge relief. One of the biggest things I worried about when I first started to think about going abroad was how being gone for 5 months could change my situation when I came home. While I haven’t had a chance to see if anything has changed back at school, everything here at home is the same. But in a way it is also almost disappointing. I came back on such a high, just to be thrust back into the daily same ol’ same ol’.

However, while getting comfortable with life back in the the U.S. was a simple task, now that I have been back for a month, I am starting to feel uneasy. I miss life in Paris. Everything that I ever complained about regarding life in Paris seems trivial in comparison to life in the suburbs of Minneapolis. I long for my forty-five minute commute on the metro to school every time I get in my car to drive. I dream of the corner boulangerie, or the neighborhood supermarché every time I get in the car to drive 10-15 minutes just to pick something up for dinner. I miss my glass of wine and the cheese course with dinner. I long to see the people who became some of my closest friends and are now spread out across the country. I miss exploring the alien world that surrounds me and the strange world within me.

And while I miss the relaxed, convenient nature of my life in Paris, a life that I could only recreate by going back, I know that going back is not a realistic possibility or the best solution. So I guess I will have to revise my world here in Minnesota. I will have to remodel my life and maybe in doing that, I can bring a little bit of MY Paris here to my corner of the U.S.A.

Just because I have returned home doesn’t mean I will abandon this blog. I spent plenty of time creating and maintaining it, I can’t let that hard work go to waste. So I plan on continuing to share my thoughts and experiences here. As of yet, I’m not entirely sure how. But stay tuned for updates as I continue to take on life, one challenge at a time!.

As an end of program celebration, IES held a farewell dinner for all the students in my program. We had a wonderful three course French dinner (see photos below) all while floating through Paris via a boat on the Seine. Beforehand, my friends and I got together to take a few photos, prom-style (if only I could have taken my ACTUAL prom photos with an Eiffel Tower view…), on the Bir Hakeim bridge (which you may recognize from Inception). Throughout the course of the evening, I was lucky enough to see the Eiffel Tower sparkle THREE times (it never get old), and spent a few last hours with some of the best people I have ever had the pleasure meeting. Our only hope (if I may be so cheesy) was that it was not “goodbye”, but instead “see you later,” as we said goodbyes before everyone headed back to their respective parts of the U.S. the next morning. Luckily, I am staying here for a few days, decompressing, getting ready to go home, and sneaking in a few last things I didn’t get the chance to do.

On the last night of our program, we were lucky enough to dine on a beautiful boat as it cruised down the Seine. In addition, we got to see the Eiffel Tower sparkle (a rare treat-unless your homestay has an Eiffel Tower view…) THREE TIMES. This was the third time, at midnight, sitting with friends, reminiscing, listening to music, and wrapping up a wonderful semester.

Last week, amid all of the preparations and stress that surrounded the last week of school, finals, and our last week in Paris, my French professor invited our whole class over for dinner at her house. To be honest, none of us were really excited; we had a lot of work to do, we were tired, she lives almost an hour away from where some of us live in Paris, and we didn’t think she would feed us much-there were 12 of us, plus her, her husband and her daughter. We were completely wrong. Not only did she have tons of food and drinks for us (aperitifs, appetizers, lots of delicious ratatouille, charcuterie, cheese, baguette, and wine), but it was a fantastic time, and a great end to our semester. It was a good opportunity to chat, eat some good food, and relieve stress. We also got a chance to peek into our professor’s life, and see the cute little suburb where she lived (in a HOUSE, with a GARDEN-something I haven’t seen in quite a while…), including this beautiful view of Paris from the site of an old château.

Being abroad has not only brought out new parts of me. It has sparked new interests to my life as well. Some things are trivial, like my new appreciation for cassis, some are odd, like my new obsession with skulls (see one of my favorites below), and others have come as a result of integral changes in my life. As I stated in post earlier in the semester, Paris is much quieter than being back with my friends and family in the U.S. People are relatively private, and tend to keep to themselves. If someone is speaking in a loud tone of voice, something big is happening.

These quieter surroundings have led me to listen in ways I never have before, and in doing this I have found that for me, one of the best ways to experience a moment is to just listen. It could be the sound of conversations on the metro (even if I’m not actually listening to what is said, but rather the low constant murmur of voices), the sound of people and cars on the street, or the sound of people celebrating, partying, or maybe even mourning. In the last few weeks, I began to collect these sound bites from my life (yes, I know it sounds like Save the Last Dance, but I haven’t gotten quite that intense about it…). However, in the process of uploading pictures and videos from my camera to my computer, they were accidentally erased. In one some ways, I was extremely upset; these were parts of my life, parts of my experience, that I will never be able to retrieve, and therefore relive. But on the other hand, these moments as they existed are engrained into, especially the sounds.

For example, when I visited Marseilles a couple of weeks ago, on the way home from dinner, the soccer match ended and Marseilles was the winner. It just so happened that we were right on the main drag for bars in the city, so we were there as the road flares were lit and the crowd roared in celebration. The group of celebrants continued to grow, and did so all through the night. Through our hotel window, which was a little removed from the main action, we could hear the sounds of revelers late into the night. It was almost eery with the way the silent, empty streets were quickly filled with the sharp cries of people headed toward the celebration at the Vieux Port.

Although the neighborhood where my host family lives might not be the best in Paris, I have been blessed to have a panoramic view of the Parisian suburbs from my 12th-story French windows (which, I must add, are one of their greatest creations). When I am at home, I usually open the windows to let in a little fresh air, and with the air comes the quiet buzz of the neighborhood; children playing, cars honking, birds singing, and if I’m lucky, the sound of the bells tolling from the towers of the two churches nearby. Although I may be sitting inside, the sounds instantly transport me to the street, and I always feel connected to my environment.

Although it may seem like a small aspect of my 4 months in Europe, this newfound interest in the sounds that surround me has definitely become one of the things that will stay with me. Not only has it enriched my time abroad in experiencing everything with all of my senses, it has helped me to acclimate in every situation, by listening, learning, interpreting, and repeating.

I have reached the last week of my time here in Paris, and things are getting very interesting. Last week I attended a re-entry session where they discussed re-entry shock, that is, the opposite culture shock that comes with returning home after being away for a semester.  It really made me realize that going home might not be as great as I sometimes dream it could be, with all the people, places, and food I have missed in the last four months. Everyone (I hope) will be interested to hear about my time in Europe, and I don’t know what I will share with them. I imagine it will be something like coming home after a day of high school to a simple “How was your day?” from my mom. I could expect it every day, but when it came, I usually had nothing to say, usually settling for a simple response of “Fine” or “Okay.”

Not only do I have to worry about going home, but first I have to worry about getting through school here. In the last week, I have had three 5-page papers due, gave three final presentations, and had five finals, an even bigger challenge after the generally light course load I have had this semester.  Obviously, doing work and preparing finals is not the first thing that comes to mind when I think of all the things I want to do in my last weeks in Paris. In fact, I have quite a list of things to do. Yikes. Time to get on that.

I believe the main difference between a semester abroad and anything shorter, say, six weeks, is that in four months, you are able to really become a local. You get to know the city (or most of it…Paris is HUGE!), the places, the sights, and you have a chance to visit things more than once. However, it can be hard to stay on track when it comes to exploring the city. It is easy to find one place you love to go and revisit that place over and over. Then, when the end of your four months comes whipping around the corner, you are left with a couple short weeks and a list of things you have yet to complete before you leave. With a shorter program, I think it is easier to grasp the amount of time you have, which leads to more planning and less left to do when your time is up. But to me, that then becomes almost like an extended vacation.

I can’t say enough how glad I am to have had more than 4 months in this beautiful city, and to have been able to call it my home. It was always nice to come back to Paris after a vacation, or a weekend away. I wouldn’t trade this feeling of belonging for anything.

It is hard to imagine and understand the events of a Friday in Paris’ Barbés neighborhood until you make the trip there to experience it yourself. It was by far the most educational trip I have taken since being in Paris. It is a part of my time abroad that I will never forget.

La Goutte d’Or, as described by Thirza Vallois, is “A tiny patch of Africa transplanted to Paris.” It started as an immigration destination for North Africans in the early 1900’s and then in the 1950’s became even more popular as immigrants came looking for work in the automobile industry. Now, twenty-seven percent of the population in La Goutte d’Or lives below the poverty level, and 17% lives in social housing, proof of the lower standard of life that seems to exist in some parts of this area.

But this area wasn’t always struggling, and even now not all of the population is experiencing this level of poverty. Originally La Goutte d’Or was a hamlet of wine growers, living in beautiful old houses, on small lanes, and cute little gardens. In the Middle Ages, the wine from the district was some of the best in Europe, given to the king every year by the City of Paris for his birthday. Some of this history is still evident, hidden behind gates and more modern, less fancy, façades.

While Barbés is still struggling against poverty, there are some positive movements being made toward the growth of the district. The Center for Muslim Culture is making positive strides toward building respect and understanding between the people of the area and the rest of Paris. Through educational and community events, they are creating an environment that will allow the Muslim community to be welcomed in by the rest of Paris.

This is also building toward the construction of a new, larger Center, using some government funding, which has already been approved by the Parisian government, a feat in and of itself. To build a religious center, especially one in a country that focuses heavily on its secular approach to government, with the money of the people, is extremely difficult. But what made the case for the Muslim Cultural Center is that it is supposed to be a place for everyone, and it is hoping that it will be able to follow through on this promise by welcoming all parts of Parisian society. In addition to the Cultural Center, the plans for a new mosque have been approved, which will be funded entirely by private donations.

While Paris already has the largest mosque in France, it is not big enough to handle the Muslim population in the city that is home to one fifth of the total population of France. This was obvious on our trip to Barbés during the Friday prayers. Because the small mosques in the neighborhood are not enough, the male population spills out onto the streets, where a highly organized procedure blocks off the streets, lays down prayer mats, and installs a private security force to protect the prayers of the people. Donation buckets are passed around, collecting funds to be put toward the new mosque, and people flow in from all directions to participate.

The situation is a model of tolerance. It goes both ways, from the tolerance of the Muslim people toward the secular government that makes it difficult for them to practice their religion, to the tolerance of the people of Paris who let this peaceful assembly to exist on a weekly basis, despite the inconvenience it might bring them. It was amazing to walk through the quiet, peaceful streets, while the sound of a service blared from speakers on top of cars lining the streets, and people who weren’t a part of the worship milled quietly about through the clear sidewalks and crosswalks. People kept to themselves, and respected the lives of those around them.

My other experiences in Barbés left me with a completely different feeling, one where I couldn’t wait to get away “to safety.” I felt out of place, exposed, and very uncomfortable. I felt like I was constantly being stared at like an outsider, because I was. I didn’t fit into what I saw as the entire population of the area, and I acted like someone who knew they didn’t belong there.

This trip was quite the opposite. In the clear light of a beautiful day, and with a better understanding of what I was walking into, I was able to feel comfortable, despite traveling with a large group of American students. Of course we got plenty of stares – we were a large group of mainly white students walking in a pack and speaking loud English. But this time they felt more like stares of curiosity, rather than threats. The people were friendly, welcoming, and willing to help. I have never seen Parisians so willing to answer a question from a stranger on the street. Barbés is probably one of the most misunderstood areas of Paris, and I am glad I had the opportunity to experience the culture of such a fascinating social situation.