The first Hump Day

Cerise, Me, Katherine, and Amanda

WEDNESDAY - 9/11

I was done with classes around 14h45 today so I had the whole afternoon for adventuring. One of my new friends, Amanda, was on her was to a patisserie so I decided to tag along. Cerise and Katherine joined us as well. With Amanda leading the way, I swear we took the long way around (sorry girl, but I'm just sayin'), but there is no route you can walk in Paris that doesn't lead to some beautiful architecture or hidden treasure like this square we found with a giant fountain. I think the woman who I asked to take a picture for us was a little challenged with the camera because each of the photos were taken at an angle. Well, at least it looks artsy.

Just around the corner and down the street was our destination, the super famous patisserie Pierre Hermé. They make arguably the best macarons and chocolate in Paris. (Some of the others include Carette, Ladurée, etc.) Of course, every Parisian has their own favorite places, but the entire time we were in the little shop, there was an endless stream of people coming to buy their little treat of the day. The cases were filled with rows of artfully crafted pastries and the most adorable macarons I have ever seen. The numerous flavors ranged from the familiar (salted caramel sounded especially good) to the more playful (rose and lychee). I really wanted to get something to try, but after taking a look at the price tag (2 euro per small macaron and well over 5 euro for the other confectioneries) I decided that I would save this special treat for a little later on.

Giant macarons

Gâteaux, tartes, et crèmes, oh my!

Thrift shop where you pay by weight

Afterwards, the four of us parted ways. The other two returned home to run some errands while I continued to explore the city with Amanda. When choosing our route of exploration, we decided to walk in the direction of the Seine, which is usually downhill from anywhere else in Paris. This is because there are two large hills in the North and South and the Seine lies in the valley between the two. Along the way, we explored the small streets and stopped at several shops that tickled our fancy. Among them included a very old book store and a thrift shop that sold clothes by the kilo instead of by article. We also passed through the district des beaux arts full of artist galleries and collectors shops. 

Artist district

There was one gallery in particular that was displaying a lot of African art, which we entered. As we perused the interesting artifacts, the gallery owner was busy tending to what seemed to be a big sale. When speaking to Monsieur Bouhon about it later, I found out that for the most part, the art district there has been commercialized. All of the "real artists" are more proud of their work and would never go to such lengths to earn money. I see where he is coming from, but what he is suggesting requires a delicate balance between doing something just because you love it, and earning money to make a living. 

When we arrived at our destination at the bank of the Seine RIver, it was a magnificent sight as expected. We took one of the bridges across the river deemed "the lover's bridge" because it was filled with pad locked inscribed the with names of people proclaiming their love for one another. The locks ranged all different shapes and sizes representing all different kinds of love. For a moment, Amanda and I looked longingly at the locks thinking about our own family and friends (and in my case boyfriend as well) back home. The sudden wind, however, kept us from pouting very long and we hurried to the other side. In front of us was a pedestrian street which led through the archway of a grand building that we later recognized to be the back side of the Louvre. Lover's woes thrown aside and cameras at the ready, we knew where we were going to escape the biting cold. 

Embracing the wind at the Louvre

The pretty lady herself

The 20m deep mob of poeple

Ultimately, I went to the Louvre by myself because Amanda did not have her carte de l'étudiant for the Louvre with her, which allows us to go to the museum at any time for free and through the secret fast entrance. The people who were in the endless zig zagging queue outside in the stormy weather gave me annoyed glares as I slyly shuffled past them and into the entrance of the pyramid. If the line outside was any indication, it was completely packed inside the Louvre. I didn't really have any plans on what to see exactly, so I got a map, wandered off in the Sully direction, and just leisurely perused the works of art. When I saw a sign for the Mona Lisa, I knew I had to pay the Mademoiselle a visit. I'm not sure what was more surprising, the fact that the painting was even smaller than I remembered, or that the mosh pit in front of the famous painting was probably close to 20 meters deep. It took me around 20 mins to slither my way in there, take my photos along with a couple of failed selfies because people kept pushing my arms, and then escaping to safe grounds.   

When my tummy started telling me she was hungry, I decided to head on home. However, we didn't have dinner until close to 21h. The French take their meals a lot differently from Americans. FirsIy, the difference in times that each take their meals are hours apart. Many American families (and Yale University included) eat dinner between the hours of 17h-19h. However, most Europeans eat much later. On the first night, when I was asked what time I wanted to eat dinner, I responded around 19h-19h30 (which is around the time I eat at my house). But, this was far from the usual time they they ate dinner. The French also take their time eating and because M. Bouhon and I always stay to chat long after dinner, we usually aren't actually "done" until around 22h30 or 23h.

You wish you could taste this right now don't you?

The best part about dinner tonight was the apricot tart we had for dessert. Delicious doesn't even begin to describe it. The crust was the perfect texture and the slightly caramelized apricots were both soft and crisp, sweet and tart, all at the same time. (I tried not to think about how much butter and sugar it took to make something so mouth watering.) When I said that I also like to cook and bake at home, we began an in depth discussion on how to make the perfect tart crust. After cutting a slice, he picked up the slice of tart by grasping ether side of the outer crust and the bottom base stayed perfectly flat. It did not break, crumble, or even think about splitting. I was super impressed.He agreed to teach me how to make a few desserts if I agreed to cook a Chinese meal. Of course it was a done deal!

After dinner, we again talked for a long while. This time the topics were more serious and included things such as politics, global problems of overpopulation, hunger, clean water, and the slow downward spiral society was taking. (The conversation was not as depressing as it sounds, I swear!) He also told me things that were deeply personal; about the struggles of being an artist with conviction, and how he could sympathize with the poorest of people because was once homeless. This took me by surprise because the french do not like to disclose personal things so easily, especially to someone outside of the family. It was very heart warming to know that he already considered me a member of the family. This is becoming an immersion experience in all senses of the word!