The American Girls Say Bonjoir! Bonjoir! Oh My God.

Day two of my Parisian adventure began at 9:00 am with breakfast in the dorm. Breakfast here consists of a hunk of baguette, a bowl of coffee, and warm milk and cereal. Not exactly what I would normally choose, but I think the fact that the coffee comes in a big bowl makes up for everything else. After breakfast we had orientation where we learned about where we are staying. At St. John’s (the dormitory) there are students staying from St. John’s University, Parsons and Marist. Across the courtyard from our rooms are priests (which means I definitely have to adapt to closing the blinds when I’m changing) and there is a church next door. As I have known from birth, a Catholic community comes with a lot of rules. For example: no overnight guests, no drinking in the dorms, no coming home intoxicated, signing in and out guests, and quiet hours. When we left orientation, we decided there is no way we are all going to leave this program without getting into trouble. We have two communal fridges in the student lounge-one for cheese, and one for food without cheese. Aside from the fact that this sounds like the kind of kitchen set-up my family needs, it is actually practical considering the cheese here is really smelly.

            After orientation we took the Metro to our school, Mod’ Spe. Riding the train made me miss Chicago. And then it didn’t. Seeing how efficient the Metro is here makes me wonder what the hell Chicago and every other city with train systems in America are doing wrong. The trains here come every four minutes and are always on time. The cars are clean and spacious allowing more than enough room to hold all passengers. Furthermore, when no one is in a seat it folds up allowing for more people to get on. After being amazed by the train itself, I was thoroughly impressed with the stop it dropped us at. After walking up street level we were greeted by open cafés, street vendors, and people leisurely walking around the city enjoying the weather. I absolutely love the area Mod’ Spe is in. The school itself is small, but delightful. The ceilings all have moldings and the large windows overlook courtyards with gardens. My professors seem perfect. They are all industry professionals working for top fashion labels out of Paris working with textiles, merchandising, and much more. I will be taking six classes this semester including: Product Development, Visual Merchandising, Fashion History, Fashion Trends, French Language, and French Culture. I must say, I am truly excited for classes to start on Monday!

            After the tour of the school, we had lunch and I ate my first French crepe. It was just as delicious as I had hoped. We then walked a ways to an hour and a half, double decker bus tour around Paris. Having time to kill, we looked inside a magnificent cathedral across the street. Going into these cathedrals can make anyone a believer. The amount of skill and detail that goes into the paintings, murals and sculptures astounds me. True to form, after the cathedral visit, the bottle of water I had downed was starting to settle in, so a friend and I were on a hunt for a bathroom. Not knowing we wound end up holding up the entire bus tour, we searched an entire square block for a place to go. It was a fruitless journey (making me miss the convenience of fast food establishments on every block) that only ended in the bus driver and all passengers not really liking us. On the bus tour we had a top level, breezy view of the city where we learned all sorts of facts about when and how the city was built, the architecture, and the fact that there are three Chanel boutiques and three Dior boutiques in walking distance of one another. Returning home, we stopped at the grocery store which is an absolute Mecca for bakery, fresh fruit, olives and anything else you can ever crave. On our college budget, we all got cheese and bread to make a poor man’s sandwich before we went out for the night.

            We set out for a nightclub called “Le Queen” around 12:30 am. We had no idea what we were getting ourselves into. The last train in Paris runs at 1 am, so we missed our transfer and had to walk over a mile to the club in stilettos. If you’re thinking about how much this hurts, try adding in the cobblestone streets and then we’ll talk. On our way, we decided to greet everyone in passing (in my mind I was just like Belle) saying “Bonsoir!” This ended up working out in our favor considering we picked up seven guys on the way simply by saying good evening. I must say, I am very frond of the jenesequa about the French men. The fact that they seem to really like American girls also shows they have good decision making skills. The club was straight out of a dirty humor movie. It was like someone took everything I correlate with the term “Euro trash” and put it into one place. With a 20 Euro cover and drinks costing 15 Euros each, I was definitely expecting to have a note worthy night. Good thing it did not disappoint.
The club is two stories with flashing strobe lights everywhere, smoke machines, sticky floors, and glow sticks. It was packed with people dancing to American music and trying to sing along. On my way downstairs I discovered two strippers dancing on platforms in the middle of the dance floor. Big beefcake men with tribal tattoos gyrating around with nothing but a white towel over their manhood. Obviously, being myself I immediately was only hoping those are not the hand towels used to dry your hands in the bathroom, or to wipe off the bar. Sex on the beach in hand, I braved the bathroom with a friend. When we walked in, I noticed men using urinals. Horrified that we had obviously walked in the wrong bathroom, I failed to notice the girls washing their hands. Guess what kids? It was a unisex bathroom. In how many languages can you say date rape? I guess the plus side is you’ll know right away whether or not you’ll want to go home with a guy. The rest of the night went as you can probably imagine: spilled drinks, platform dancing, broken glass, hookups, and stumbling home just before 4 AM. If this much fun comes out of every night out, I may not miss American nightlife one bit.