Classes finished on May 15th. Last Thursday I finally picked up my stuff from the printmaking studio, made some last prints, and said a tearful goodbye to everyone there. Now I only have packing and picture-taking to think about during my last week in Paris.
Summer has arrived. Outside the sky is blue and the sun is shining brighter than ever. The coats and sweaters I've accumulated during my stay are now completely useless, and while walking around I look longingly at the sundresses displayed in shop windows.
I woke up late this morning. I've been exhausted ever since I got back from Barcelona late Wednesday night. It wasn't so much the trip that tired me out, but the flight. So many hours were spent getting to and waiting at the airport, all for a flight that lasted only and hour and a half. Barcelona, on the other hand, was fabulous.
I went with my friends Kathy, Peggah and Colman, who all go to Sarah Lawrence college. Kathy and Peggah are in the Paris program, and Colman is here for a visit. Kathy, the red head, is a lot like me in many ways. Those three turned out to be a great group to travel with; we all have similar interests, are relaxed, and so the 4 days we spent together were amazingly stress-free. We got a room for 4 in an excellent hostel a little ways from the center of town, far from the clubs and noisy streets of las Ramblas. We saw a lot of the sights: la Segrada Familia, the Picasso museum, the Cathedral, Gaudi's park, and many of the buildings he designed. Compared to Paris, Barcelona seemed extremely laid back, happy, and cheap. I've been told that Barcelona is an expensive city, but it's nothing compared to Paris. It was so nice to find good food for under 10 euros!
Speaking spanish again was difficult after 4 years of French. My vocabulary has been reduced to almost nothing, and I'm limited to speaking mostly in the present. However, unlike here in Paris, people really seemed to appreciate the fact that I was trying, and were so friendly and helpful. I also never once felt uncomfortable walking the streets, even though I was told by several people that Barcelona was dangerous. I suppose it's the same as any big city; you just have to be reasonably careful.
I should go soon; I have to go tutor in half and hour. Down below my window I hear the sound of suitcase wheels on concrete sidewalk. It's an almost constant sound here in Paris; people are always coming and going, leaving and arriving. When I first got to Paris the sound surprised me because I resembled that of my mother's wheelbarrow on the gravel driveway, but now I hardly notice anymore. In 8 days that'll be me dragging my own heavy luggage around the city and up and down metro steps. I will leave no trace behind. Paris will go on being a beautiful city full of strangers, artists and lovers and people like me who don't quite know why they're there.
Love to you all!!
