The end has unfortunately finally arrived...I go home in just a few days time now and I am extremely sad. I have met amazing people along this journey and I don't want to say goodbye and I have also seen amazing things that I do not want to part ways with, only thing missing are the tears. I have said goodbye to all my friends over a group dinner and my friends at the cafe. Did my last minute shopping and indulged in some heals and a vintage shop dress. Go figure I would find the good things at the end. Go figure I would also make friends with Parisians at the end of my trip. The other night my only French friends a couple I met back in New York City invited me to a Parisian house party and everyone was so delightful, truly breathtaking spirits. But all things happen when they do for a reason, maybe I am meant to come back to Paris sooner than I think. The great part about this trip is that I officially found that my heart is capable of belonging to more than one great city at a time.
I cried at my farewell dinner, because I fell in the love with the friendships I created but I promised not to loose any of them, life brings you presents sometimes I believe and the present I received on this trip was a great group of 8 men and women from all around the world, was I truly this lucky?....I believe so.
I can't wait to hug and kiss my parents again and see my best friends and eat a home cooked meal, the other side of me truly can't wait for all of the above.
Monday, September 12, 2011
"The culture here is an Interesting one!"
After having arrived to Morocco I realized plenty of different things right upfront, one of those things being "the culture here is an interesting one!" I had heard many mixed reviews about Morocco and North African countries in general. So I was pleased to be on the fan based side of things. Although this would be a short trip I wanted to make the most and really indulge in the differences here. American media has done a good job at making Muslim people and their cultures seem extreme and insignificant all at once. So I wanted to visit a country where I could asses my own opinion.
The city of Marrakesh is a booming one, traffic everywhere but no stop lights in sight anywhere. It had occurred to me on the way to my hostel that we were in Ramadan so I was curious as to how that would affect my trip. As soon as I got off the bus I saw people breaking out into fights and arguments in every stop along the way I thought "hmm here is a group of riled up individuals" when it had not registered that maybe just maybe everyone was riled up from the lack of food through out the day. Then on the walk to the hostel I was almost ran over twice by speeding motorcycles. I wanted to at least survive the first day of my trip, therefore this would require my full and undivided attention when ever I would walk somewhere.
After checking into my very cozy hostel which had a great feel to it, I ventured out solo to get some dinner. I was going to give myself just two rules when it came to food here in Morocco: 1. No tap water, and 2. No meat in my meals. So I was on the prowl for the best cooked vegetable meals. But the first thing I realized once I walked back out of the hostel was the most bizarre thing from when I entered. There was a calmness in the streets after the sun had gone down. The busy busting of the earlier sun was gone, men where not hollering my way or even at each other. It was peaceful in the streets as I made my way to the restaurant.
I got a sense of how the Moroccans got down after 7:30pm once they were allowed to eat, then and only then did it occur to me why it was so calming and peaceful in the streets, when people are to busy with food in their mouths all at once...well there's no one left to make the noise. At the restaurant the nearby groups of Muslim people enjoying their dinners were so nice, with tables filled with huge amounts of food, a guy walked over to me when he saw I was still food-less and offered me one of the extra smoothies at the table. Being my uptight nervous American self I politely denied the man thinking "never leave your drink unattended and definitely never take a drink from a stranger" but the gesture made my day.
When I got back to my hostel I found my favorite thing about vacationing alone begin to occur...I made my first set of friend. These two adorable sweet sisters who were from all over Europe. I say all over because they were born in Scotland, Raised in Greece and currently living in Barcelona as a Ceramic professor and Linguist. And yes they spoke at least 3 to 4 languages each! Since it was Ramadan we were forced to not go out for a drink but mint tea. My poor poor sober soul.
We spent the evening shopping, enjoying food and getting to know one another and the only thing I could think to myself was how lucky I was to be in such an interesting place with even more interesting people. I felt oddly blessed... The next day at breakfast I said goodbye to the sweet Scottish pair and said hello to my new set of 6 Portuguese friends whom I would spend the rest of vacation with.
We traveled the city together, ate dinner, smoke hookah, went on our excursions together. I quickly began to love this warm group of individuals. All from different parts of Portugal, speaking multiple languages, and working different jobs. They group even met on their trip to Morocco, it was like destiny had brought me to meet these people for a reason. The best part was that I was given something I had been missing this whole summer in Paris, a piece of home...we spoke plenty Spanish, they were loud and funny and if it weren't for the random blurts in a language I could not speak I would have thought these people were even Puerto Rican's. It was truly great, we even went hiking to the mountains of Orika Valley and ate lunch on the river...yes tables seats and all were soaked and I was happier than ever to be in my scenario.
At the end of my trip we all said sad and happy goodbyes...they were my little Portuguese family and I promised next time we all met I would be visiting them in Portugal!
The city of Marrakesh is a booming one, traffic everywhere but no stop lights in sight anywhere. It had occurred to me on the way to my hostel that we were in Ramadan so I was curious as to how that would affect my trip. As soon as I got off the bus I saw people breaking out into fights and arguments in every stop along the way I thought "hmm here is a group of riled up individuals" when it had not registered that maybe just maybe everyone was riled up from the lack of food through out the day. Then on the walk to the hostel I was almost ran over twice by speeding motorcycles. I wanted to at least survive the first day of my trip, therefore this would require my full and undivided attention when ever I would walk somewhere.
After checking into my very cozy hostel which had a great feel to it, I ventured out solo to get some dinner. I was going to give myself just two rules when it came to food here in Morocco: 1. No tap water, and 2. No meat in my meals. So I was on the prowl for the best cooked vegetable meals. But the first thing I realized once I walked back out of the hostel was the most bizarre thing from when I entered. There was a calmness in the streets after the sun had gone down. The busy busting of the earlier sun was gone, men where not hollering my way or even at each other. It was peaceful in the streets as I made my way to the restaurant.
I got a sense of how the Moroccans got down after 7:30pm once they were allowed to eat, then and only then did it occur to me why it was so calming and peaceful in the streets, when people are to busy with food in their mouths all at once...well there's no one left to make the noise. At the restaurant the nearby groups of Muslim people enjoying their dinners were so nice, with tables filled with huge amounts of food, a guy walked over to me when he saw I was still food-less and offered me one of the extra smoothies at the table. Being my uptight nervous American self I politely denied the man thinking "never leave your drink unattended and definitely never take a drink from a stranger" but the gesture made my day.
When I got back to my hostel I found my favorite thing about vacationing alone begin to occur...I made my first set of friend. These two adorable sweet sisters who were from all over Europe. I say all over because they were born in Scotland, Raised in Greece and currently living in Barcelona as a Ceramic professor and Linguist. And yes they spoke at least 3 to 4 languages each! Since it was Ramadan we were forced to not go out for a drink but mint tea. My poor poor sober soul.
We spent the evening shopping, enjoying food and getting to know one another and the only thing I could think to myself was how lucky I was to be in such an interesting place with even more interesting people. I felt oddly blessed... The next day at breakfast I said goodbye to the sweet Scottish pair and said hello to my new set of 6 Portuguese friends whom I would spend the rest of vacation with.
We traveled the city together, ate dinner, smoke hookah, went on our excursions together. I quickly began to love this warm group of individuals. All from different parts of Portugal, speaking multiple languages, and working different jobs. They group even met on their trip to Morocco, it was like destiny had brought me to meet these people for a reason. The best part was that I was given something I had been missing this whole summer in Paris, a piece of home...we spoke plenty Spanish, they were loud and funny and if it weren't for the random blurts in a language I could not speak I would have thought these people were even Puerto Rican's. It was truly great, we even went hiking to the mountains of Orika Valley and ate lunch on the river...yes tables seats and all were soaked and I was happier than ever to be in my scenario.
At the end of my trip we all said sad and happy goodbyes...they were my little Portuguese family and I promised next time we all met I would be visiting them in Portugal!
Going home soon...
Paris is most amazing in the morning, it's one of those places where you begin to compare everything you have ever known before and try to pick apart the differences. I will be going home soon and saying goodbye to my amazing friends and delicious wine and cheese (yes the stereotype is true) and saying hello to my career when I arrive in NYC. I am sure a lot has changed a lot since I have left but one thing can be for sure, cities never do.
I will be heading to Morocco for a few days which is exactly what I wanted to do on this trip, but with a little patience (something I am still learning) and credit card I managed to get what I wanted, I don't know what to expect but I plan to stick to the cooked vegetables and no meet or tap water, let us see if my stomach will survive that.
The book is exactly where I want it to be but with less than two weeks left here I think I will just go with the flow of things and see where and how I end up...no rush right? I am only 22 (this I keep telling myself).
I will be heading to Morocco for a few days which is exactly what I wanted to do on this trip, but with a little patience (something I am still learning) and credit card I managed to get what I wanted, I don't know what to expect but I plan to stick to the cooked vegetables and no meet or tap water, let us see if my stomach will survive that.
The book is exactly where I want it to be but with less than two weeks left here I think I will just go with the flow of things and see where and how I end up...no rush right? I am only 22 (this I keep telling myself).
Friday, August 19, 2011
More in love each day...
The longer I stay here, the more I feel I have discovered the city and now I discover the people. With my close group of friends and cafe chats I really feel I could stay a bit longer now. Today I went to what was the only comparison to a real coffee shop here in Paris, and that it not to be confused with a cafe. Now what is the difference you might ask? Well in NYC we have lots coffee shops, a place of gathering for writers, regulars, students etc. Drinking a good old cup of Joe and hanging around for hours on end. A cafe here in Paris is a place to eat, drink and well hang for an hour or two. You look sort of like a squatter if you just stay around for hours on end at a cafe here in Paris.
But one of the sweeter things about the day was going to a dinner based on American style dinners, and meeting a few local internationals studying here in Paris. A sweet little Korean Puerto Rican from California, a British fellow and quirky Mexican. I felt I could have spent my whole evening there listening to their stories and what brought them to Paris. People always say my story sounds amazing, (artist moves to Paris after "Uni" to write a book etc) but these people have the true amazing stories...not even done with studies, or even able to speak the language when they move away to a foreign country...yup they make me look like a sucker!
So what was I doing on a Friday night in Paris today? Reading a book at my favorite little cafe while sipping on a espresso with Baily's cream. It's all bliss to me...the servers at the cafe know me by hard already and greet me with a kiss and hug every time I see them now...I will miss this circle of warm people here in Paris.
But one of the sweeter things about the day was going to a dinner based on American style dinners, and meeting a few local internationals studying here in Paris. A sweet little Korean Puerto Rican from California, a British fellow and quirky Mexican. I felt I could have spent my whole evening there listening to their stories and what brought them to Paris. People always say my story sounds amazing, (artist moves to Paris after "Uni" to write a book etc) but these people have the true amazing stories...not even done with studies, or even able to speak the language when they move away to a foreign country...yup they make me look like a sucker!
So what was I doing on a Friday night in Paris today? Reading a book at my favorite little cafe while sipping on a espresso with Baily's cream. It's all bliss to me...the servers at the cafe know me by hard already and greet me with a kiss and hug every time I see them now...I will miss this circle of warm people here in Paris.
Thursday, August 18, 2011
Paris at 9:30 a.m.
It's a 9:30 crisp morning air here in Paris on a bright beautiful August morning...this scene might seem more then cliche in an anyone's mind as they read my current blog entry. But this is what it is, blissful and perfect and the couple next to me just adds to the view. They are having a couple of cappuccino's and just discussing, I can't quite tell if they are tourists or just morning Parisians but all I can think of are my parent's. Older couples always appear much cuter to me then they might actually be to any other person.
I know I have found one particular thing about this morning, the earlier the wake up... the better the inspiration. I just wanted to open up my tiny little pink net-book and start writing. Even long after the couple is gone and strolling down the street I am writing away. Lost in nostalgia as I begin to enter the next chapter in my book about my journey from Munich to Milan. I remember this humble feeling I had about life after I left Dachau but I am struggling to bring fourth that emotion in my writing...something's about New York made me run to Paris and now I am slowly believing those same things are going to bring me back to NYC.
Until then, the sun is starting to come over the building and the hours are starting to pass this morning...I think it will be noon in Paris soon.
I know I have found one particular thing about this morning, the earlier the wake up... the better the inspiration. I just wanted to open up my tiny little pink net-book and start writing. Even long after the couple is gone and strolling down the street I am writing away. Lost in nostalgia as I begin to enter the next chapter in my book about my journey from Munich to Milan. I remember this humble feeling I had about life after I left Dachau but I am struggling to bring fourth that emotion in my writing...something's about New York made me run to Paris and now I am slowly believing those same things are going to bring me back to NYC.
Until then, the sun is starting to come over the building and the hours are starting to pass this morning...I think it will be noon in Paris soon.
Tuesday, August 16, 2011
Let Go
The countdown continues, I return home in just a couple of weeks. I also leave for Morocco in a less than a week. I am also quite content because I actually feel like I have made the most of my experience here in Paris. I don't feel like I will leave with an unsatisfied taste in my mouth. Everyday waking up and writing, going to my little favorite cafe to read my book and make friends. And some nights spent a bit more inebriated than I would prefer but still spent with good friends. I think if I had to pick one thing I will miss the most here, it is the special people I have met. Crazy men in the cafe who keep your attention for hours on end, good friends with whom you spend to many nights drunk with or too many days eating.
Another amazing thing has occurred to me since I have been in Paris. While working on my book, I find it quite difficult to let go of a lot of feelings that I have harbored towards a couple of characters. Some of those characters being my ex boyfriends. In particular my first one, my first love as i specifically remember him. But I sat at a cafe one day reading a great chapter in Eat Pray Love, one particular chapter on forgiveness. And I just remember feeling a warmth in my stomach, as I almost began to cry over her description of letting go of her ex-husband.
I immediately thought to myself, why haven't I forgiven my ex-boyfriend. This guy who played such an important role in my life at one point, and in this book...why haven't I let go. Was I waiting for a feeling like this to overcome me or was I waiting for another sign. Difference between me and this book was the fact that my ex had tried contacting me in the last couple of years. When I think back to my grudge I do feel bad having kept one for so long. But that has now changed, I went home and contacted him via face book and wrote him a letter of...forgiveness. Who knows if we will ever enter each others lives again but I would like to know I have also....Let go.
Another amazing thing has occurred to me since I have been in Paris. While working on my book, I find it quite difficult to let go of a lot of feelings that I have harbored towards a couple of characters. Some of those characters being my ex boyfriends. In particular my first one, my first love as i specifically remember him. But I sat at a cafe one day reading a great chapter in Eat Pray Love, one particular chapter on forgiveness. And I just remember feeling a warmth in my stomach, as I almost began to cry over her description of letting go of her ex-husband.
I immediately thought to myself, why haven't I forgiven my ex-boyfriend. This guy who played such an important role in my life at one point, and in this book...why haven't I let go. Was I waiting for a feeling like this to overcome me or was I waiting for another sign. Difference between me and this book was the fact that my ex had tried contacting me in the last couple of years. When I think back to my grudge I do feel bad having kept one for so long. But that has now changed, I went home and contacted him via face book and wrote him a letter of...forgiveness. Who knows if we will ever enter each others lives again but I would like to know I have also....Let go.
Wednesday, August 10, 2011
Is it really almost time?
Oh how time flies, already leaving in three week! When I first arrived I felt as if I were a tourist visiting Paris for the first time, and now the end is near and I feel like I could have extended my trip longer. So many things I still want to see and new things I keep discovering. I finally moved into the 5th district where I have a tiny studio in the heart of the Latin Quarter. No seriously, absolutely tiny, as in my shower in adjacent to my kitchen sink, (and no there is not door dividing the two). But I do kind of feel like a true writer in residence. My ground floor apartment over looks a backyard garden which can be either of two things, good AND bad. Good for morning sun and fresh air and a silent view, but bad for the critters who make their way into the apartment without any given permission. Yes I have killed two spiders already.
I go to my favorite cafe everyday where I am finally meeting my dose of real Parisians and even practicing my French. I made particular friends with an old man who spoke seven languages. I'm not quite sure why I stayed and spoke to him for so long, or why I took his cell phone number but very glad that I did, he had old stories that kept me wanting to hear of more. He was balding with gentle crisp blue eyes. I spend most of my time listening, and interestingly enough, he has inspired my writing more than any other person has here.
It's also going to be quite sad leaving the group of friends I have made here, just when intimate stories have began exchanging and drunk nights you will never forget have begun happening, I have to go. But for some reason I have this gut instinct that I will be returning to Paris, maybe to write my second book or even to see the people I have come to call my family away from home. Who really knows? I am certain of one thing though, I have learned more about myself than I expected to. My strengths and weakness, my will to get over random sad nights. The other night I had my first extreme sad night where I was severely missing my mom, to the point of tears. It's crazy how you don't realize how much you miss your mothers embrace until it's completely out of your life. And all the fights and annoying things about her, are suddenly forgotten and you can't even completely remember what she does to annoy you. But for some reason I'm sure I will be reminded of that one as soon as I return home
I appreciate things he more, the random nights out and all the people I meet, dinners with food I have never tasted before, and walks down winding streets with cafe's and shops only one would find here in Paris. This inner emotion has only been triggered here, I now crave more and yearn to taste something new, and I only want to explore more and more.
I went to the north of France last week and stayed with a friends family. In this beautiful house not to far into the country. The city itself was absolutely charming, and the food! Well let's just say if you want good French food, I wouldn't come to Paris. I ate so much while in Metz, and absorbed something that was completely foreign to me. I almost didn't want to leave and was saddened that I had only seen this one gorgeous city outside of Paris. I wondered if this was comparable to the south.
Next stop is Morocco, after all who knows when I will have time again to see this country and it's been on my to do list for quite a while. I feel extremely privileged to be able to keep making new dreams come true for myself. Privileged by whom, I don't really know...one shouldn't always analyze these things.
I go to my favorite cafe everyday where I am finally meeting my dose of real Parisians and even practicing my French. I made particular friends with an old man who spoke seven languages. I'm not quite sure why I stayed and spoke to him for so long, or why I took his cell phone number but very glad that I did, he had old stories that kept me wanting to hear of more. He was balding with gentle crisp blue eyes. I spend most of my time listening, and interestingly enough, he has inspired my writing more than any other person has here.
It's also going to be quite sad leaving the group of friends I have made here, just when intimate stories have began exchanging and drunk nights you will never forget have begun happening, I have to go. But for some reason I have this gut instinct that I will be returning to Paris, maybe to write my second book or even to see the people I have come to call my family away from home. Who really knows? I am certain of one thing though, I have learned more about myself than I expected to. My strengths and weakness, my will to get over random sad nights. The other night I had my first extreme sad night where I was severely missing my mom, to the point of tears. It's crazy how you don't realize how much you miss your mothers embrace until it's completely out of your life. And all the fights and annoying things about her, are suddenly forgotten and you can't even completely remember what she does to annoy you. But for some reason I'm sure I will be reminded of that one as soon as I return home
I appreciate things he more, the random nights out and all the people I meet, dinners with food I have never tasted before, and walks down winding streets with cafe's and shops only one would find here in Paris. This inner emotion has only been triggered here, I now crave more and yearn to taste something new, and I only want to explore more and more.
I went to the north of France last week and stayed with a friends family. In this beautiful house not to far into the country. The city itself was absolutely charming, and the food! Well let's just say if you want good French food, I wouldn't come to Paris. I ate so much while in Metz, and absorbed something that was completely foreign to me. I almost didn't want to leave and was saddened that I had only seen this one gorgeous city outside of Paris. I wondered if this was comparable to the south.
Next stop is Morocco, after all who knows when I will have time again to see this country and it's been on my to do list for quite a while. I feel extremely privileged to be able to keep making new dreams come true for myself. Privileged by whom, I don't really know...one shouldn't always analyze these things.
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