Culture: Part One

Bonjour! Et bienvenue a Paris! It is currently 4:00 AM EST, but I am wiiiiide awake. I have just arrived after my 7-hour flight from Boston to Paris and am sitting here in Charles De Gaulle airport—the clocks reading 10:00 AM.

            My flight was surprisingly fast and actually quite pleasant. Even though the flight took off at 8:30 PM, we were served “dinner” not long after. I say “dinner” because mom and I had already eaten before I left, but this didn’t stop me from munching on some of the veggies. I slept for a few hours and was awakened for breakfast…errr, another rice cake. Despite the lacking vegan breakfast, the way in which the airline serves dinner, turns off the lights, turns them back on, and serves breakfast really helps to reset your internal clock. I feel like it should be lunchtime, but at home, the sun hasn’t even risen!

On a different note, the cultural immersion has already begun. So many different languages and passports from different countries of origin, just from walking through security! I sat next to a nice couple on the plane who were traveling to Slovenia, where the woman was from and then on the tram to my terminal, I sat next to a guy from Amsterdam. One thing that seems to know no cultural bounds is peoples’ perception of Harvard. My water bottle is such a conversation piece. I guess I forget sometimes how well known it is.

But I’ve started to notice cultural differences already. When I boarded the plane, I happened to find a French copy of Elle magazine and thought I could use it to spruce up my French a bit. Not only was I proud of how much I understood, but I also could not help but notice the differences between French and American Elle. For one, French Elle has a ridiculous amount of topless models. That aside, it also has a larger amount of political and current event type articles, which American Elle lacks. I don’t know what this says about French women, but I think it’s really interesting. Also, you don’t have to take your shoes off through security…hmmm.

A few days ago, Neil asked if you could tell once you landed that you were in another country. I said I didn’t think so, that all airports are mostly the same, but I take that back. I am most definitely in France. It smells different here, the airport and the people (mostly good.) It sounds different (duh.) And the people and the architecture just look different. I don’t know what it is about Europeans that is so distinguishable, but you honestly can’t miss it. I am certainly not in Dennis anymore. And plus, there’s a LaDuree macaron stand across the terminal right next to a parfumerie and a Longchamp store, totally Parisian.

Well, on that note I think it’s time for a 4 AM lunch. My flight for Rabat leaves in 2 hours so I have some time to kill. No better place to people watch than an airport.

Plus de mots et plus de photos demain! 

Au revoir la France, bonjour le Maroc! 

-Allie