happy hours in amsterdam-oost

I stood at the door. The host had given me clear directions to the flat and promised me his friend would meet me at 3 o'clock with the keys. It was 4:18pm (or, 16h18). I called the friend. "Oh, your friend should be inside. She was on time." Which friend, I wondered. Following his instruction, I buzzed up to the flat. It wasn't long before I heard feet running down the stairs. Marie's cousin greeted me. Though I'd never met her in person, I was relieved to immediately recognize Charlotte. She felt the same; little introduction meant she could rest her lost voice. She turned to lead me up three steep and narrow flights. I practically held my suitcase above my head.

Fortunately, the airbnb was as cute and airy as expected. Worth the hike, in other words. My brother rang up a few minutes after I'd caught my breath. Soon after, Marie followed. Properly reunited and introduced, we set out on a leisurely walk to the De Gooyer Windmill. We had made plans to meet Lorelei for happy hour al fresco at Brouwerij 't IJ, Amsterdam's leading organic microbrewery.

The evening advanced organically (pun intended) from there. Thanks to Lorelei's local scoop and Dutch data, we tipsily strolled over to Roest. The laid-back industrial setting was perfect. We enjoyed a couple more beers with a casual spread of picnic food. We also boldly participated in the inflatable backyard fun--a bungee run and a two-man joust--until we discovered it'd been rented for a private event...

Eventually, the night winded down with gin cocktails, whiskey, and wine at Walter's, the Walter Woodbury Bar. It was a classier yet just-as-local haunt with a beautiful interior that was clearly influenced by its namesake--the 19th century English photographer who was one of the first to capture the "exoticism" of the Dutch East Indies. Given the atmosphere and plethora of libations, our conversation became a debate on culture and identity. My brother was absolutely enthralled. "The wonder of grad school abroad," I told him with a smile as we walked back to the airbnb. What a special understanding Jorgie and I now share.

hasta la vista

A couple of hours ago, I was sitting in the cozy back room of this French resto playing Mikado with my mom, dad, ma soeur, and her parents. We needed entertaining while we finished our glasses of wine (third bottle, ahem) and waited for dessert to be served.

Earlier today, I mentioned to my mom that the I might not be in Paris again until Marie's wedding (!); a thought which conjured a whole lotta feelings. It's hard to believe I have less than two weeks in a city I never really expected to "design a life" in. Mais ça c'est la vie, je suppose. In honor of my pre-nostalgia (and my parents current visit for my Tuesday graduation, and my Thursday birthday immediately following), I'm taking un petit hiatus. Check Instagram for last-minute Parisian memories. Forever dramatic.

how to be mindful

Did I tell you I went to a psychic last month? I did, after enjoying plenty of wine and cheese with Catherine. We were on our way to Grom because we hadn't yet reached our dairy intake goal for the day. The psychic smiled and invited us in (as she probably does to to all passerbys). But, in our tipsy state of being, we decided to go along with it. Catherine teared up at the accuracy of her reading. Mine seemed less so. Yet the psychic did mention two inevitable occurrences-to-be: a big move and financial success. As a full-time student, the latter could very well represent a regular paycheck of more than zero dollars. Woot, woot. I have lots to look forward to.

In all seriousness though, she foresaw correctly. I will relocate to... somewhere, for a job. Knowing that fact has made being in Paris again all the more special. I've found myself living in every moment and interaction so much more; a night at Le Perchoir comes to mind: It began with a Pisco Sour and reminiscing about pisco-drenched memories. Lorelei and I continued to a casual fête après.

{via}

As much as that in and of itself is bittersweet, it also makes me appreciate my favoritest thing about being abroad: wonder, and the mindfulness it brings. I hope I'm able to hold onto it wherever I end up in my good fortune ;). Taking note of these zen habits now:

1. Do one thing at a time.
2. Be present, especially when talking with someone.
3. Eat slowly and savor your food.
4. Make cleaning become meditation.
5. Keep practicing.

how to belong

Adaptability. You may have heard that's it's the #1 life skill you learn and practice while studying abroad and/or working in an international environment. It definitely is one of them. I'd argue the ability to create a sense of belonging is even greater though.

It's freaking hard to build relationships with strangers who grew up in a world separate from your own, to observe norms you're not familiar with and then take them on yourself... to thrive as the only American woman in an office of tech-minded French guys. And yet, whether or not I actually have an INFJ personality, doing so has been one of the most rewarding foreign experiences thus far.

I worked from home today, and tomorrow, I'll meet the PageYourself team at our new office in the 18th. Au revoir, Le Réfectoire ! We will no longer have medicore burgers and bomb-a** fries at our disposal. But, for the next two weeks at least, I'll continue enjoying a "male-skewed" lunchtime diet. The sentimentality is already kicking in full throttle. I'm going to miss my coworkers.

How did I get to this point? I "kept on swimming", even if I really wanted to give up sometimes. And honestly, that's the most valuable advice I could give. Adapting is a process of excitement, resentment, and acceptance. Sometimes mojitos help, but maintaining perspective on the impermanence is an even safer bet. Now I just have to remind myself that diving into solitary thesis research doesn't at all mean losing these personal and professional connections. Le sigh. Second transition of the year: go!

"There’s an old adage that says you leave pieces of yourself wherever you go, wherever you’ve called home. And I suppose that’s true. But, it’s kind of bullshit, too, like most old adages and their supposed relative truth. It’s not the pieces themselves that matter. It’s the size of those pieces you leave behind and the size of the hole they’re trying to fill that matter. Because you can have the biggest pieces of yourself that are connected to these places and the sense of belonging that you derive from them and still not manage to fill the hole. Your sense of belonging starts when you stop asking other people and places permission to belong. It’s not about where you “feel like” you should be. It’s about where you are, and you belong wherever you are." -Jon Hamlin

expat reflections

When I picked him up from LaGuardia Airport on the morning of June 21st, I was excited. It would be his first time in New York, and I got to be the one to show him around! I love forcing inspiring people to fall in love with places I live or have lived. It's a gift. He was over the moon, too. "NYPD!" he exclaimed as we entered the Van Wyck Expressway. I couldn't help but laugh.

I only realized how cool it was to grow up thirty minutes from Manhattan when I went away to college and met other Americans who couldn't go to the city whenever they wanted and didn't go at least a dozen times a year. Then I was exposed to what "being from New York" meant on the global scale, and let me tell you, the cool factor reaches a whole 'nother level. I don't mind it.

For instance, while interviewing at PageYourself, I briefed them on what brought me to Paris in the first place: I wanted to study global communications and I wanted to get out of New York, preferably by way of an ocean. My now-boss chuckled in response. "Parisians are dying to be in New York." And it's true. This is one of countless examples.

So, I obviously brought my German to the quintessential New York sights he's seen photos of his entire life. But I also wanted him to see my city, the people I spent my time with, the spots I frequented; and beyond that, to get to know my "thirty minutes from Manhattan" home. We climbed the stairs to the Kensico Dam, went to lunch at Playland, spent an afternoon in the Westchester Mall, and when we got home, my mom had made us a classic family dinner: spaghetti and meatballs, steamed broccoli, garlic bread.

In between getting all sentimental about how much I love where I come from and how much I love that he loved it, too, it was fun to ask him what stood out to him as being different, American, or New York:

1. Tattoos. I hadn't noticed it, but yeah, I guess biker dudes and wanna-be rock stars are less prevalent in Europe.
2. Great service. Waiters who take our order upon seating? Free coffee refills? Quickly cleared and cleaned tables? "Yes, sweetheart, we aren't in France anymore. Don't forget the tip."
3. Ice water. According to him, water is simply too cold to drink when you fill it to the brim with ice. Plus, more ice means less water. My mother's opposing argument: lukewarm is not refreshing and water glasses get refilled. (See above).
4. Obesity. He didn't outrightly tell me this one, I had to ask. And I did. Because even I was taken aback. It makes me sad to think of what a mess our food system is and the detrimental effects its having on not just small town USA but the world. 
5. Yoga pants. Though he goes to the gym, he'd never consider his workout clothes everyday-appropriate. Welcome to 'merica? We have to counteract the previous observation somehow. (Whereas in Paris, I was painfully aware of Sunday's outfit).
6. Friendliness. My German boyfriend was born and raised in Berlin, so he's a city kid. Strangers generally keep to themselves in cities--no passing "howdy" or "good mornings"--but somehow, we managed to encounter the exceptions. We had random conversations each time we road the elevator in Syracuse. And in Manhattan, on our way to my aunt's apartment, we were stopped by a woman who's question about where we'd gotten such a beautiful bouquet ("thanks for having us for dinner" flowers) led to a casual invite to her 60th birthday party. She was mostly kidding, but it was sweet.
7. Exposed fire escapes. He didn't mention them as "so American" until our Lower East Side afternoon. Safety looks good.
8. Air conditioning, everywhere. An idea worth spreading, that's all I have to say! The canicule may have gotten to me...

By the way, if you're wondering what inspired this post: this article + Parisian tour plans for my boyfriend's best friend from home.

how to afford a summer in paris

Times have been tough. Remember when I took myself out to lunch on Fridays and frequently met up with friends for food and drink? Me, too... fondly. I'm on a much stricter budget now that I live in a legitimate apartment. Federal loans only stretch so far, especially after such a fabulous break at home. The list of Parisian delicacies I can enjoy are limited to: 1-euro fresh baguettes, seasonal market produce, and prix-fixe lunch menus only once or twice a month. How I suffer so ;). In all seriousness though, I really do have to be more careful about how I spend my money. Paris is not a cheap city, and even 5-euro pints of happy hour beer add up fast. I might be depending on free events to get me through. Even with an internship paycheck, I doubt I'm going to be able to afford a real vacation.

But who needs a vacation when you live in Paris, right? (Raises hand). With that said, for those who don't already have the luxury of residing here, studying abroad in the City of Lights may very well be out of the question. Unless, of course, you receive help.

Recently, I was contacted by Paris Study Center, L3C to spread the word about their discounted prices on studying abroad in Paris. The potential students are only required to qualify for regular program admission and be considered economically disadvantaged by their FAFSA applications. There's no shame in accepting aid to pursue your dreams, my dear! It's what I did. If you're interested in learning more, or know of someone who might be, please contact Ayana Burroughs at contact(at)parisstudycenter(dot)com.

to be abroad

In August of last year, I couldn't remember why I wanted to be abroad again. I had a life in New York, it's where most of my family and friends were based... how could I pick up and leave it all behind to move to a city of culturally distinct strangers speaking a language I'm not quite fluent in? Wasn't traveling enough?

In my case, no. The challenge of creating a home in a foreign city has simply been too rewarding.

There's nothing quite like the satisfaction of successfully navigating seemingly tireless bureaucracy, for example. Living in Paris is no walk in the park for an expat; there is a ton of paperwork and forever a long process to legally reside here. But as such, earning a carte sejour is a celebration in and of itself. 

Efficiently opening a bank account and receiving an imagine-R card have brought about similar pride.

The same goes for uncovering Parisian gems and establishing neighborhood favorites. Although it's frustrating that the French (in general and in particular) have a tendency to superlative-ize their civilization, this city does boast a multitude of enviable museums and restaurants, amongst other venues.

Being able to critique such things is a very unique opportunity. I undoubtedly notice more here--whether it pertains to French art, American culture, or Mexican food. The daily grind has become intellectually stimulating, almost as much as my time spent within AUP's classrooms.

That's no coincidence. This is why I feel better abroad. And even in a constant state of missing, I'm not alone.

Being far from home has created wonderful communities of students, young professionals, fellow bloggers who--in many ways--have promoted the removal of "barriers of language, culture, and geography." It's an irreplaceable and invaluable experience to be exposed to such diversity. I've tried to enjoy every moment.

It's not easy. I wish I could see my family more often and spend time with my friends again. Instead, I seem to meet new people each week, and only if I'm lucky, consciously navigate my way into an authentic new bond. But it is extra special when that happens. Just a few weeks ago, as I stood in one of the most photographed spots in Paris with my German boyfriend and his brother, I couldn't help but think of all these chances I wouldn't have been given were I to have stayed at home. Despite the sometimes gloomy days, I am so grateful for them all. Stay tuned for more from spring break in Portugal with some of my favorites.

at home in paris

Gosh, it feels so good to be back. I may have woke up at 5:45am this morning (darn you, jet lag) but I honestly couldn't be happier. Last time, I flew in by way of Iceland entirely unsure of myself, terrified, excited. This time, despite a turbulent flight, I landed with a smile and a sigh. I wasn't thrown off by the onset of everything French; my airport pick-up was thrilled to see me; him and I took the familiar metro to my neighborhood for the first time this year; and finally, with help, I climbed the stairs to ma chambre de bonne. It was exactly as I'd left it. I realized then, more than ever before, how much I'd truly made this place my home.

Since my Saturday morning arrival, I've had copious amounts of noisettes (small espressos topped with steamed milk), tried my best to sleep at appropriate times, and have enjoyed a Parisian salad, take-out sushi, an English breakfast, pain au chocolat, and an impressive trio of Mexican tacos in the company of friends.

Knowing that I already have friends here, good ones and more than one, makes me all the more optimistic about this next year in Paris. I already have a growing list of exhibitions (especially this one) I want to see in addition to restaurants and bars I want to visit. I very much hope to make yoga classes a habit again as well. Also, have I told you how committed I am to improving my French? I'm grateful to have the extra time this semester to do so, most notably during my "ambassador" hours at MAM. Of course, that's when I'm not reading/writing/studying for Brands and Beliefs, Global Digital Cultures, Global Audiences in Media & Communications, and Global Advocacy and Public Policy. I'm honestly thoroughly looking forward to the work, all of it. (Please remind me of that when I'm stressing out at the end of the semester, okay?)

And I have even more friends coming soon; my second set of visitors! I'm eager to introduce Anna and Leslie to my life here--including my favorite neighborhood brunch (see photo above)--and travel to Marrakesh for the weekend in between. It'll be my first time in Africa, ever. The excitement is almost too much to handle.

Anyway, I should finish unpacking before I get too carried away :) hope you're beginning your week happily.

(stereo)typical

In addition to sending off my friends from Oklahoma, potlucking with friends I made through blogging (in honor of the blogging friend I crashed with in Madison, Wisconsin), lunching with my New Jersey-bred college roommate, and wining and dining with the bestest New Yorker/sorority sister, I've also been lucky enough to spend ample time with those friends I grew up with; and catch my San Francisco-living college friend and Strasbourg-made friend on the phone; and brunch at my former Manhattan apartment hosted by my former roommate, born and raised in Seattle, with an appearance from a sweet Brooklyn boy.

So, you know what I'm dreading? Friends; not having them, of course, but making them. The thought of having to introduce myself, get to know people, and figure out which relationships are plausible is just overwhelming... as is the sincere hope that mostly everyone will like me. When you're going to be living somewhere new for an extended period of time such things matter. And frankly, I'm simply daunted by the desire to keep in touch with the amazing friends I already have.

These are a few of the many ways my "new friends" could possibly perceive me:

• a woman: crazy, impractical, emotional, weak, can't wait to commit
• the oldest: bossy, perfectionist, tightly wound, responsible, conscientious 
• a college sorority girl: needy, promiscuous, dependent, superficial, dumb
• a New Yorker: rude, stressed, unfriendly, relentless, sophisticated
• a twenty-something: entitled, lazy, idealistic, techie, immature 
• an American: materialistic, ignorant, fat, egotistical, loud

Fun, huh? Especially as so few of those stereotypical characteristics describe me.

Yet the above assumptions are extreme and entirely unlikely :). I'd like to think the other globally-minded graduate students like myself will not only have interesting things to say but also be interested in befriending the real me. It's still unsettling to think about though, even if I know for certain I'll be fine. Phew.

Now, my darlings, I'm off to embark on an adventure my friends claim to have expected of me: I'll fly out of New York City tonight, arrive in Reykjavik early tomorrow morning, explore Iceland for three days, and wake up in Paris, France on Friday, August 31st. I'm nervously excited--please wish me luck! À bientôt.

preparing for paris

"How excited are you for Paris?!" Actually, lovely person I'm going to miss excessively very soon, not that much. This may make me seem unappreciative of the opportunities before me--bratty, even--but I expected it. My process works this way: wanderlust, excitement, freak-out, excitement. I'm currently between those exciting parts. And since the major details are all set (flight, temporary lodging, student visa), it's the technicalities that get me. I wonder how helpful the housing office will be in my apartment search, how likely it is I'll find worthwhile friends, how quickly my French language skills will return. Living and studying abroad, especially in a city like Paris, can easily be romanticized but I am all too aware of the challenging realities. With that said, I'm also looking forward to each one. I know deep down I can do it and couldn't possibly forget why I want to. So, in these final two weeks, I've been studying Prêt a Voyager's Bloggers Guide to Paris, the videos below, and Lost In Cheeseland's Franco File Fridays. From the latter, the responses to "describe what you love about France in three words" are as follows:

paris from Olivia Rae James on Vimeo

Culture, history, beauty. Food, passion and style. Passion, style and wine. The nutty French. Appreciation of beauty. Everything is beautiful. Lifestyle, food, photogenic-ness (I know, I made that last word up, but I had to condense it into one word). History, beauty, passion. Gardens, markets and meals. Cuisine, style, beauty. Food, new, old. Pain au chocolat. Food. Wine. Scenery. Culture. That's four. I cheated. Joie de vivre. Delicious, dreamy, exhilarating. Le pain chaud. Food, people, travel. Contrarianism is mainstream. Great health care. Freedom, Food, Travel. food, culture, language. Healthcare, food, history.

Friendly Fires - Paris (Aeroplane Remix ft. Au Revoir Simone)by0ctolover via chic or geek

Classic, timeless, beauty. Tradition, Elegance, Taste. Timeless, passion, gourmandises. Complex. Romantic. Home. Its diverse regions. Slower paced life. Food, wine, architecture. Liberté. Egalité. Fraternité. Joie de vivre. Bread, cheese, wine. The artist spirit. I live here. Pain au chocolat. Family, gourmandise, Paris (because pain, vin, fromage is a little too easy!) Universal Health Care. Style. Passion. Pleasure. Tradition Juxtaposed with'Tendance' (trend). Conversation without end. History. Beauty. Food. Salty, creamy, butter. Bread, wine and cheese. Enriches my perspective. Love of craftsmanship.

Paris In Motion (Part I) from Mayeul Akpovi on Vimeo

Flair for living. Beauty, tradition, terroir. Beauty, tradition, discipline. Craft. Stories. Wine. Paris, landscapes and baguettes ! Provence at dawn. Art de vivre. Eye Candy and Lights. La Vie Française. Beauty. Decadence. Arrogance. Beauty, Manger, le Ciel. Earthy, Taste, "Joie-de-vivre." Champagne, chèvre, chocolate. Beauty. Paris. Provence. History, food, art. The two most important words - about living anywhere - for me are home and adventure. Weather, weather, weather. Just kidding. Wine. Cheese. Exploration. Can we make it 5 words? Eyes, ears, nose, tastebuds + brain. Delicious Daily Surprises. Liberté. Égalité. FOOD.

you should study abroad

Phew. January 2012 was a doozy. I lost quite a few more things than I 'd bargained for, and a very special person, too. And so, I'm looking forward to starting fresh in February. Perhaps because we're conditioned to look at each year, month, week, my gosh, even each day as a new beginning and a clean slate. 

I believe in this optimistic view to a degree, but I also know from experience that, sometimes, you only do get one single opportunity to take a life-changing chance. For me, studying abroad was just that. I think many others would agree.

The plate you see above was my first official "study abroad" meal. With scrambled eggs, yogurt, zucchini bread, and fresh fruit, it was hardly an exotic breakfast. But the cuy that followed, in addition to cochayuyo, these shellfish, endive, and tarte flambée would all still be foreign had I not been so deliciously introduced.

Of course, in the end, it was never actually about the food. It was about living in a country I wasn't familiar with, with a family that wasn't my own, and spending time with peers who were all but strangers until we became friends. Then doing it all over again, and again.

It was about building relationships with people who grew up in completely different environments than the one I myself was raised in, and discovering that we had nearly everything in common when it came that which mattered.

It was about seeing amazing ruins of historical significance with my own eyes.

It was about finding a home in not one, not two, but three cities across the globe.

It was about camping in national parks, climbing volcanos, and surfing deserts. 

It was about being a minority as an American and a native English speaker. It was about adopting a new culture as I became somewhat multilingual.

It was about visiting my aunt's beloved Spanish city, the land my grandfather's parents came from, my neighbors' the home country; reuniting with ma soeur.

Most college students aren't required to study abroad. Yet according to the Institute of International Education, more are doing so anyway. We have our entire lives to travel, (and we should, often), but studying abroad is a unique experience that has the power to transform us from pampered young adults to cultured global citizens.

It obviously doesn't always have such magical effects, but it most certainly can if you let it. You simply have to be open with the world and patient with yourself.

I will forever be grateful I decided to study abroad for a year--I actually made it happen, in spite of seemingly countless fears and doubts. I gained a clear sense of independence, self-sufficiency, and self-trust. I matured, I played, I flourished in ways I didn't know were possible. And if you are given the opportunity to study abroad, (my brother is currently applying to spend a semester in the third most popular destination), with all my heart I hope you'll take it.

It's terrifying to willingly place ourselves into uncomfortable, challenging, and risky situations. It's much easier to avoid them all together. But don't. Study abroad anyway. Let yourself have the international experience of a lifetime.