I went to a free choir concert at the Madeleine, which is just beautiful. I really enjoyed the concert. A men’s choir was singing, and it wasn’t until a couple songs in that I noticed that they were all old men. But they made up for age in robustness and heartiness—lots of moving on their heels and head-bobbing.

Our family was talking about all the languages they know (“When you live in Europe, you have to know them all”). They asked us if we knew any other languages. I felt kinda lame with just two, so I said three! And I spoke some latin de porc (pig latin—yes, I made that up). Then they spoke some of their French versions of pig latin for us. One that’s really popular here with young people is moving the first sound to the end of the word. They said lots of people say C’est ouf instead of C’est fou (means “It’s crazy).

One of the classes I’m taking is called Paris Walks. I get three credits for walking around Paris. I did one of the walks in the Marais area. It was great. It included the Carnavalet museum, Victor Hugo’s home, the St. Paul cathedral, and a bunch of other cool, old things (don’t I sound cultured?). I really enjoyed the Carnavalet. It’s pretty much a bunch of rooms that cover French history. I loved the French Revolution rooms. It’s also fun for me to read the French captions. Listen to what I learned about Bastille Day, although I learned it from my trusty friend, Rick Steve, who supplemented my museum visit: After the angry mob stormed Invalides to get weapons and the Bastille to get gun powder, they went to Hôtel de Ville (town hall). They literally ripped the mayor of Paris apart with their bare hands! Then they put his head on a stick. Now aren’t you glad to know that?
The walk took my down a road with a high school on both sides. The students were on break when I got there, so I had to get through all of them. It seemed a lot like American high schools—lots of groups and cliques, people trying to impress everyone else, and it was very loud.

I also liked Victor Hugo’s home. There are a bunch of paintings, sculptures, photographs, and trinkets that belonged to Hugo, show him/his family, and depict scenes from his stories. Apparently, I need to brush up on the Hunchback story, because the pictures of Quasimodo and Esmeralda were not G-rated or Disney-approved.
The other walk I did this week for my walks class was the “Get Lost Walk: the Anti-Walk Walk.” You’re supposed to go wherever the wind takes you and be a flâneuse (feminine form because there are only two boys out of the thirty of us in the program). To be a flâneuse, you walk like you have a tortoise on a leash and have no particular destination in mind. So, I got off the metro at Concorde, pretty close to the obelisk. I wandered in one direction and ended up at Invalides. I actually didn’t know what building I was at until I read the signs and saw the armed guards. Then I found a cute little park/garden nearby and did some people-watching. I especially liked watching a couple different games of soccer on some patches of grass with signs that read, “Ball games strictly forbidden.” After a few minutes on the park bench, I got up and wandered in a different direction. I passed a lot more people—mostly tourists. I’m starting to feel more like I belong in Paris and less like I’m just here on vacation.

Also, I had a hard time actually getting lost, because I could see the Eiffel Tower almost the whole time. Maybe that would have been different if I had been in a different area of the city?

The most interesting thing I got from this walk was something I learned (or just remembered) about myself: I am not a very good flâneuse. It’s fun to walk around aimlessly for a little while, but I prefer having a set schedule. I strive on structure. Even when I go and relax somewhere like the Tuileries Gardens, I like to know how long I want to stay and what time I’m going to start my next activity.