Transfers are weirder than in DC, as you have to go above ground and walk to the other station. Then the instructions to "walk away from the bridge" proved difficult when there were two bridges, and my back wasn't facing either. Sigh.
I arrived at orientation in time to meet my student advisor. And orientation reminded me about GW's orientation and that...harrowing experience. We went on a walk to the edge of the 7th arrondissement, and I was falling farther and farther behind, like in all the cross country races I've ran. Finally, I decided what the hell and tried to head back to the school, only to get hopelessly lost. Plan B, then, was to go back to the apartment where I was guaranteed WiFi to email my advisor and let AUP know I wasn't dead.
Then my cab got in an accident. It's actually amazing that it's taken this long for that to happen. New York traffic seems far worse. But when I called the AUP security head, his tone seemed to imply that collisions are far more common here in Paris than across the pond. So strange.
I kind of waited around. What is the protocol when your cab driver is in a car accident? Especially when you can't remember French for, "Uh, listen, can I go?" I honestly would've paid him because I felt really bad, but I had to get home. So here I am.
Don't panic, Mother. My second driver turned out to speak English. I've perfected my "merci" over the past few days, and I love how the French respond with their, "De rien." It's like a drawl ("de riiiiiiien"), and I find it fascinating. What a strange takeaway from a crazy morning.
Orientation is still going on, but I don't know if I want to chance the metro. It's frustrating because it seems like I don't know what I'm doing, but I followed the directions exactly and still got lost. The paper didn't mention going above ground. That would've been nice. So I'm still not sure what to think about this. I liked walking around Paris, but I chose the wrong day to break in new shoes. (To be fair, I assumed we'd be sitting in an auditorium all day.) And honestly, it was morning, and there were tons of people. Parisians (I've been told to distinguish these inhabitants from regular French people) have proved to be helpful so far. I'm enjoying it, but I'm very hungry. Food, glorious food! La nourriture, la belle nourriture! (Best translation I have. It probably sucks.)
What else can I say? I got pizza last night, had an interesting conversation over my "chinoise"-ness with the staff, took the fastest and most claustrophobic shower of my life, and realized I had the apartment to myself, which was actually a bit disorienting. I guess if my mom were here too, I'd rather be staying in a nice hotel with linens and room service. Sinks and showers drain very slowly here; I was afraid I was going to flood the bathroom (sadly, yet again--it's a common occurrence when I travel to Europe). I did round out my night with a nice cup of tea in my own personal mug. Everybody needs her own wine glass and tea mug. I emulated Jamie and bought a wine "cup," as in a glass without the stem.
Still, wandering Paris alone is more palatable than going in a group. However, I have to admit that I was the pokey one this time.
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