Turkish Endeavors

So, I guess my "radio silence" has got my mother fearing for my life.  Radio silence being the term used when I do not put up a post for a couple of days I suppose.  But, in an effort to be a good son, I've decided to sit down and solve the problem.  A new post.

Since last we spoke I went to the Musee d'Orsay, and the Eiffel Tower, walked up and down the Seine at night, went back to that library to find it overrun and uninhabitable, taken my phonetics exam, and gone to class repeatedly (and on time).
The Musee d'Orsay was everything I could have hoped it to be.  Beautiful paintings all around, hitting hard my love of Impressionism with works from Renoir, Manet, Monet, Degas, and countless others.  Or I suppose they're countable, but that fact flattens the effect I suppose.  After that, a cafe allonge, and after a brisk walk I found a nice cafe near the base of the Eiffel Tower and had dinner.  Then, as the sun was setting, I walked around and took some pictures.  I decided not to go up in the tower, because it was getting cold and I had already been to the museum that day and am trying to conserve my money for important things like: food.

Quickly on the subject of food: I was apprehensive to buy a baguette.  Hear me out.  See, I had been eating plenty of sandwiches, trying different kinds, paninis, etc.  All of them are made with baguettes, so it wasn't so much an issue of the bread.  Instead it was a question of what on god's green earth are these French people doing with all this bread?  Every day and night I would see people walking home with two, three, four baguettes slung under their arms like they were going to feed the homeless masses.  But even one baguette is a lot of bread.  Those suckers are really long, and to be honest I didn't grow up in a house where bread accompanied every meal.  I just don't know what to do with it.  Eat it obviously, but in my mind I thought that would mean making a meal, cutting up the bread, pouring some wine, lighting candles, etc.  A hassle in plain english.  But, as I was considering the prices of Parisian cafes the other day I decided it was time I just pick up a baguette (I had butter) and for that night I would have bread and wine for dinner.  My literal bread and butter.  So, that night (along with the rest of Paris) I went home with a baguette under my arms.  Cost?  One euro.  Okay, that seems reasonable.  What did I find out when I got home?  Baguettes are to kill and die for, especially when they're fresh from the local bakery.  Absolutely wonderful.  That night I ate standing up, slathering butter onto slices of bread and pouring hubris amounts of wine down my gullet to wash the whole feast down.  Fantastic.  Enough about food.
So like I was saying, I didn't go up in the Eiffel Tower.  Last time I'd been to Paris we only made it to the second tier so one of these days I will need to go all the way up just to say I did it.  But not that night.  No, instead I headed down to the banks of the Seine and walked all the way back to the opposite side of the city as the sun finally settled behind the horizon and the City of Lights finally earned its name.  Every building was lit up, some of the government buildings were set aglow with blue and red across their facade.  Each bridge had a string of lights and tour boats with spotlights and flash cameras glided along the black water passing the shadows of trees along the buildings and people strolling by.  A repeat experience is most definitely required.
By the way, the reason I'm being so ambiguous about which days these things were happening on is because I have a terrible memory and no idea.  So let's just pretend it's only been a day since my last post and it was a very busy day.  That way I can keep saying "yesterday" when I really mean one of the five days since I last posted anything.  Okay.
So yesterday...went to class, a lot.  I feel like that's all I did yesterday.  Though after class I did finally take my phonetics test.  As I walked into the room where it was taking place, a one on one conversation with a french language teacher, I knew this wasn't going to take very long.  In fact I cut it short with my response to her second question.  Je ne parle pas francais.  She looked up from her checklist of questions with a sort of pleased shock on her face.  I guess after a whole day (possibly more) of interrogating people's unpleasant French skills she was happy to see someone who knew the most important phrase of all.  I don't speak French.  With that I was assigned into a beginner course for the afternoons after my practical course.  The phonetics tests are every day Mon-Fri every other week.  They start next week.  After this I was able to sign up for my conferences, which I guess are basically just large lectures.  Being a debutant I was only able to pick from a couple of options, so I chose History of French Art and French Cinema.  Obviously.  It was either that or a lecture about food that took place at 8 am, and there was no way I was going to sit through a two hour lecture listening to my stomach grumble knowing that I would have to run to make it to my practical course with no time for breakfast once it let out.  No thanks.  I'll stick to what I know.
Only problem is that my Art History course is at the same time as my phonetics course, so once a week I'm going to skip my lecture.  As it was described to me (finally) it's a big room, lots of kids, the teacher talks, you take notes, and at the end there is a test you can take if you want.  I'm picturing back of the room blank stares and doodles a plenty.  Yes, what was this whole trip needing?  A man speaking to me in droll elongated French with complex sentence structures and multiple tenses while I sink into the oblivion of hundreds of strangers.  So excited.  Maybe I'll get to watch some Godard.  At least that way if there are no subtitles I may already know what they're saying and it won't matter so much.

What else...oh yeah I just remembered "yesterday" I went back to that library.  No dice.  Full to the brim with students. I couldn't even think in there.  Instead yesterday (a different yesterday I think) I went to the local cafe by my place where I once spent those three hours on those two verbs and read Bolano for about four hours.  I left in a trance kind of stumbling about like a somnambulist trying to find the kitchen.  I guess I'm not used to reading so much.  Honest I only drank one coffee.
You'll be happy to know I've been doing my homework.  And today I finally hoped a turnstile.  Now, in my defense, I did intend to pay.  It was just an act of passion.  My pass has been acting up this past couple of yesterdays and sometimes it won't let me through and I have to use another turnstile and rub the thing around the sensor for awhile before it lets me through.  Well today I was in a hurry (okay not really) going to class and I tried swiping my card on the sensor but it didn't work.  A business guy passed through the turnstile to my left so I followed after him and tried swiping my card at that turnstile.  He was polite enough to hold the little gate back at the end for me, and it just felt like an invitation to jump.  Besides my card didn't work immediately and the guy was holding the thing for me.  So I jumped it.  The guy looked a little shocked.  I seem to be doing that to people.  Je ne parle pas francais; oh, thank you mister, now watch as I break French transit law as you aid and abet.  Au revoir!
As you might have guessed I'm doing just peachy on my own (except for the law breaking).  I'm quite liking it, but that's nothing new. J'aime la solitaire.  But, knowing that my mother would simply die and then turn over in her grave if she knew I wasn't trying to actively seek out friends I decided to make one today.  A Turk from Istanbul.  He and I have sat next to each other every day since the beginning of class so I decided to ask him to lunch after class today.  What did I learn.  He speaks no English and I speak no Turkish, so we would have to speak French.  Ha ha.  Oh cruel fate.  Whatever, we made it work.  Our French is at an equally bad level and so we're understanding.  We even managed to communicate that tomorrow after class we are going to go to Sacre Coeur together because I hadn't been yet.  He's nice and we talked about books and authors and French and waiters and where we lived and how old we were and anything else that can be expressed with a limited vocabulary and a basic mastery of the present tense.  Okay, one friend down.  Now maybe I'll find me an English speaking one and really be in business.  So there you go mom.  I had my first meal with another human being, and possibly my first unobligatory conversation.  Voila.  Looking at the positives I think it will be good to keep hanging out with Eren (his name).  It will really force me to speak French and will probably bring up my conversation skills to a new level, level one.

What else did I do yesterday?  I watched an unhealthy amount of TV.  I wrote a little.  I've got a test tomorrow.  Maybe I'll make myself dinner tonight.  Really spoil myself with a nice bowl of cereal.  Who knows.

Okay, I'm pretty sure I've run out of things to say for now.  Hope all is well state side.  Make sure to leave some comments, or send some emails.  This radio silence thing does work both ways.  I'm not just a source of unending joy, I'm also a human being who likes to hear about your lives.  Send some updates people.  Or just talk about how much you miss me (Emily).  I'll take anything.  That's all for now!

-John