FIELD NOTE 5.83 - Differences.

They were talking their loud English all the way to and from the placement test, these 2 girls, and all I could think about was how different my perspective is from what it once was. These differences are probably not as great as I imagine they are, but still they seem incredible to me.
So they spoke their loud English and over and over I thought to myself "I am not like them" without even daring to let my mind wander to the next question: "If not like them, then like who?"

FIELD NOTE 5.82 - Placement test.

I swear the Sorbonne's placement test somehow managed to search out all those little words and rules of grammar that I told myself I would never need to remember and combined them into one 3-page exam.
Some people stood up a few minutes after starting and proclaimed they knew none of it. Some people made a few half-hearted attempts and left after 10 or so minutes. I just put pencil to paper and prayed that what I was writing and checking would somehow manage to transform itself into an acceptable answer.
After the written portion of the exam, there was a small oral portion. I sat down and just began talking. I was kind of proud of myself for being able to go that fast and only forgetting one word in the span of it.
Tomorrow the answers will be posted at 8h30. Strangely, I feel the same as I did in Nantes after the placement test I took there in January: there's nothing I can do now, there's no sense in worrying.

FIELD NOTE 5.81 - Early morning, 7AM.

For the next month I will be waking every morning at 7AM to give myself ample time to prepare for and get myself to class on time.
Normally I hate early mornings, but something about Paris changes all that. Taking a shower in my tiny bathroom, flinging open the shutters, rushing through Parc Montsouris to catch the RER - somehow all of it makes me feel like an adult, like I can actually pretend like I have an entire life of my own. Sure my parents paid for it, but that seems trivial.
So I run through this city's metro system, keeping in time with the French people around me and reading the French newspaper in between metro stops. It might not be a full life, but it's enough life for now.

FIELD NOTE 5.80 - Missing roommate.

It is now 0h12 and one of my roommate's has been gone since 18h30. He said he would be going for a short walk and that he would be back soon. That was 6 hours ago.
I realize that the 4 of us living here haven't known each other long and the span of time hasn't been enough to allow unbreakable bonds of friendship to be formed; however, I feel that 3 days of rushing through the metro together and endless hours of orientation when coupled with a few conversations do breed a certain level of trust.
At our orientation we were told the emergency number to call, but we were told not to call it if it was something that they couldn't fix. Not knowing what to do, we emailed a prof and were told not to worry until the morning.
So I guess if the morning comes and he's not here, then there's a problem. But until then there are 3 of us in this apartment all listening attentively for the sound of opening doors and turning locks. Not a fun way to spend a night...

FIELD NOTE 5.79 - This moment.

It is now 21h27 and I am sitting in the living room/dining room of my Parisian flat with the window open. It is that point in the day when it's not quite dark enough to require a light on but still not light enough to see everything. A few minutes ago it was raining and it is rather cold but I still can't bring myself to close the window.
It's moments like this that make me know I could live here quite happily. But it's also moments like this when I know that it's all ephemeral - light fades, the rain returns, and the window will have to be closed.

FIELD NOTE 5.78 - Parc Montsouris.

Today the weather has been slightly cloudy and cold but even still I talked myself into doing my preliminary readings for one of my courses in Parc Montsouris which is right across the street from my apartment.
Since most things are closed on Sundays, the parks of France tend to be particularly crowded these days and I was not surprised to note that Montsouris was no exception. The park was full of playing families while runners filled the pathways and old people sat on the benches looking on all the rest. I chose a bench not very far from the entrance but close enough that I could dash back to my apartment quickly in the event of a downpour.
I passed almost 2 and a half hours there reading and listening to little snippets of passing conversation and the occasional clip of pony hooves when they would pass with children on their backs.
I always love the parks best here because they are the places where I feel that I cease to be viewed as a tourist and I just am. Sure, the French definitely know I am not one of them with our greatly differing appearances and dress styles, but nor am I of the same sort of loud American tourist which they are used to.
So I read and they go about their lives. Occasionally our gazes meet and then we look away. And then I continue reading and they continue on with their lives.

FIELD NOTE 5.77 - Brewing time.

Eventually I realized that staying in bed all day when my time is so limited here would be a mistake, I slowly began to rouse myself out of bed so that I could begin my day. Soon after I had washed my hair and brewed a cup of tea, my roommates began waking as well.
And then Pegan began brewing coffee for all of us. Two hours later when the coffee machine had only managed to brew about 3 cups of coffee, it became obvious that something was wrong with the machine and so we added more water and waited another hour. In that time the machine somehow managed to make almost 7 cups and, rather than waiting for the rest to brew, we just turned the machine off and drank the strong brew as it was, calling it French.
We decided that in the future it might be wiser to avoid the coffee machine in favor of a café or perhaps waking early to give the machine ample time to brew. Lessons, lessons.