Friday, July 30, 2010

On the Transitory Nature of...Us

I watched a great movie tonight, called Before Sunrise, that was about two young people who met on a train in a foreign country and spent one night together, both knowing they might not ever see each other again. Incidentally, they were a French girl and an American guy, but that wasn't the point of the story, at least not to me. Instead what struck me most was the movie as a study of the transitory experience - the temporariness of feelings, of meaning, of significance of time and place. In the final moments of the movie, still shots of the places that the couple had spent parts of their one and only night together - this night so significant to each of them by its very brevity and rarity - shown the following morning in daylight... my words can't describe the way those same places, which had once held so much meaning for two certain people, could just hours later be just another park bench, just another patch of grass, just another café table. The way an old lady could wobble unknowingly and unaffected over the same patch of grass where these two young people had forged such a connection, when that patch of grass that would forever hold so much significance to that couple, whenever conjured up in memory would trigger other memories, if ever revisited would impart so much feeling. But of course the old lady would wobble unknowingly and unaffected over that patch of grass, for how could she have known what had happened at just that precise location just a few hours ago? And yet that very transitory, ephemeral nature of the moment, that is where lies the amazingness and the scariness of....well, i don't know what. love? romance? emotion? any shared experience? any personal experience? My point is that I was incredibly moved by the idea that a moment, an experience, an encounter, that could hold so much significance to a person, say me, would be after all, just that. A moment, an experience, an encounter. A matter of a few minutes, perhaps a few hours, even a few days or weeks. But once it is over, that's it. It has passed and it is no longer. And once its gone, and you have gotten up from that patch of grass, and an old lady has wobbled over it with no idea that you and/or anybody else had sat there and experienced something so important - once that moment has passed, there is no physical trace of your presence there at all. No evidence of the time you spent there, the words you said, the emotions you felt. For all anyone could ever know, the moment may not have passed at all. The experience may never have existed. It may never have happened, and there is no proof at all. Except in your memory and perhaps someone else's.

But we are all lucky to have this jumble of cells that produces memory, for what if that someone else's memory were to fail them, or worse yet, your memory to fail you? Or is that really worse? Would it be worse to have them forget and you remember, and yet be unable to prove that it happened, because only you could remember? Or would it be a good thing that at least you remembered, so that at least you could hold on to that happy significant moment forever (or for as long as your memory would permit you)? Or if that memory were skewed (as I'm reading in Dan Gilbert's Stumbling on Happiness) and the way you remembered what happened didn't align with what the other person remembered, or with what actually happened at all? On that note, how much of what humankind remembers of the world experience is accurate at all, if we all perceive things a little differently, a little uniquely, a little crooked? Does crooked a billion times over make the overall understanding of the universe generally straight?

As you can see, if you've been able to follow my crazed train of thought at all, I'm very much intrigued with this impermanent, temporal, fleeting idea of experiences, and when I think a little too much about it late at night, this strange idea snowballs into bigger and bigger questions of memory and perception and existence, and then I start using huge fluffy quasi-philosophical words like "universe" and "humankind" ...

Anyways, I've returned home from France and I apologize for my lack of posts for the past couple of weeks. For lack of anything interesting to say, I just did not feel compelled to waste precious (ha) internet realty with humdrum recounting of my humdrum life. For a small update though, my family has been incredibly occupied with packing up our entire house in preparation for sale, because once again, we are moving. This time to where, we have no idea, which is a change, but the act itself of packing up, discarding the unnecessary, keeping only the useful and/or treasured, is one my family is quite familiar with. This sort of event would be likely to prompt some feelings of nostalgia, intro- or retro-spection perhaps, but my busy hands have kept my head empty for the most part, until recently, as things have wound down and the boxes have begun to pile up, stalling traffic outside but not inside my head. And tonight's movie it seems has been the ignition for my thoughts once again...but until I have some time to sift through these swirling thoughts in my head, I will leave you. I hope whoever, wherever you are, you are enjoying the summertime air and the chance to have some thoughts yourselves. I promise the next time I write, I will be able to better explain myself and what I have been thinking, and seeing, and perhaps have something a bit more interesting to say, but until then, salut and happy almost-August.

P.S. If you're interested in reading more about this movie that stirred my thoughts, and its recent sequel, I recommend: http://www.slantmagazine.com/house/2010/01/before-sunrise-and-before-sunset-laden-with-happiness-and-tears/

Tuesday, July 13, 2010

Hello from the South of France - Chateaus, Small Towns, and Bright Yellow Sunflowers

My family and I have been traveling south from Paris for the past week and a half. I apologize for the lack of the posts in the meantime - between sightseeing by day and spotty internet at night, I just didn't get a chance. That and I realized I have completely turned off my brain ever since I left Paris. Why, I'm not sure - it could be that I'm with my parents or that my classes are over, or it could just be that smaller towns and pretty country scenes just lull my brain to sleep. Either way, I just haven't had enough mental activity lately to come up with anything all too worthwhile to say - thus, I'll leave the bulk of this post to images, to show you all what I have been seeing for the past few days.
The beautiful gardens at the chateau de Villandry.
A gorgeous sunset on the Loire River, as seen from the adorable town of Chinon.
Sunflowers abound across the French countryside and, true to their name, they face the east in the morning and the west after noon, eventually drooping their heads around 4pm when they've had their fill. Beautiful. (And here's my mom, hehe.)



Geese! At a goose farm in the Dordogne region, where I saw the force-feeding of the ducks and geese for foie gras production (although the force-feeding is used to make all parts of the duck or goose tastier, as I learned). Yes they were cute. Yes it was sad. Yes I still love foie gras. Watching the force-feeding demonstration was, if nothing else, a great eye-opener to the basic practical nature of making of a living. You produce geese. Fat geese sell better. You make the geese fat and you make a living. Such is life.
Huge Roman aqueduct in the south of France, near Nîmes. Ingenious engineering and masonry, 2000 years ago. I was impressed.

And to finish off, a goodbye from Arles, where I am currently: the "Rome of France," set in the heart of Provence, and (most importantly) where Van Gogh painted some of his most famous works (like Starry Night over the Rhone and Café Terrace at Night). I went today to find the café made timeless by his painting and it was utterly disappointing - all tourist-fare and souvenir-fodder - though I did take a couple photos to prove I found the spot (one of my goals for this trip). However, I was able to get some amazing photos of lamplit Arles at dusk which, by complete luck and good timing, managed to bear striking resemblance to some of our dear VG's pieces. Staring up at this murky sky framed by the yellow-bathed and dusty walls of ancient Arles, I can imagine what may have inspired the tortured artist to paint as he did. Small and touristy as this town may be today, I have to admit, it has charmed me with its bright sun, warm colors, and vibrant atmosphere.
Tomorrow we move on one more small town in Provence, then Nice for some French sunbathing - c'est la vie! And after that, we fly - home. It's been a whirlwind tour of France, and there is no doubt still lots to see, but to be honest I've been ready to go home ever since we left Paris. For I'm still a big city girl at heart. After all, how can you compare with never-ending nightlife, around-the-corner convenience, and most of all, that world-class culture right at your doorstep? My answer: you can't. Though a beautiful sunset sure does help.

With that, bonne nuit, à bientot, and gros bisous to all.


Monday, July 5, 2010

Thoughts Upon Saying Goodbye, and Hello

Tonight marks the absolute last of my one month here in Paris - a month which has, to my surprise, turned out to be one of the most enriching and eye-opening times of my life, as cheesy as that sounds (fromage!). But, in truth, it has been truly amazing to observe (and participate a bit in) a culture, a lifestyle, a way of appreciating life in a manner which has proved so different from any I've experienced before. Spending a month here has renewed in me a sense of awe and respect for humanity, for culture and beauty across the world, and especially (for me) a happy reminder that friends can be found anywhere, regardless of time place or circumstance.

I, like most others I'm sure, have never been particularly fond of saying goodbye - in fact, its one of those moments in life that I absolutely dread, for they always bring up the deepest of emotions in me, and often just at the moment when its almost too late to explain or act upon them. And so, I was very unhappy to leave my summer program friends who have become the best fellow city explorers I could ask for. But as a wise friend of mine once said (I'm lucky enough to have quite a few of those), we have to have the Goodbyes so we can enjoy the Hellos (or something like that, eh Dan?) - and he couldn't be more right, although they still remain one of my more abhorred moments.

This time in particular however, I can't help but feel like tonight's goodbye to Paris as a city is more of a see you soon than a real goodbye, because, in fact, I am very honored to announce that I have been accepted into the international exchange program at Sciences Po in Paris (through Berkeley of course), and I have, tentatively, for the moment, accepted my admittance.

I use such wishy washy language in an attempt to explain what I have been feeling for a couple months now - an uncertainty and inexplicable unfulfilment that, interestingly enough, set in just after what most (and I included) would call a major success in my otherwise quite uneventful life. The truth is that once the craziness of the time cleared and the storm clouds lifted, it was as if all the truths of my life, all the holes and hills and bumps became painfully well illuminated, in such a way that metaphorically hurt my eyes to look at them. In the face of those uneven bits of my life as it stands today, I wavered and in fact am still wavering a bit between leaving again for Paris next spring or staying at Cal through my junior year, because the truth is, as much as I have loved Paris, I have loved my life at Cal, which so far I have had two wonderful years to nurture and develop. To leave would be, as the verb denotes, to leave all of that behind, and to find what? One can never be sure, though my usual inner optimist begs me to relax.

And after quite of bit of discussion with friends and family, and especially locals familiar with the Sciences Po education I would be getting, I have begun to see that an opportunity like this is not one to be given up lightly. The exposure to another type of academic greatness, the chance to rub shoulders with bright minds from across the world, the challenge of staying afloat academically and personally in a vastly different environment, albeit one I am now a bit more familiar with - opportunities like these don't come along any old day, and they are guaranteed to change your life (to paraphrase another wise friend of mine, this time Jeff). So despite my wariness and reluctance to let go (which is relatively new to my life, by the way), I do think I will end up coming back, if only to avoid the ever-terrible, ever-haunting "what if?" question of life.

I have no idea where a semester spent in Paris will take me later on in life - in truth, I've never quite imagined France, or Europe in general for that matter, playing a large role in my life. But as I'm sure any of my wise friends would tell me, who ever really knows where they are headed, and what will, in the end, be most important to us?

So, to close, I want to leave you with a little (possibly humorous) anecdote that may give you a better idea of what my life motto is at the moment: At my homestay, chez the Charoys, there were 3 adorable postcards with clever humour-philosophical sayings (for those of you who may recognize, they were from Les Devises Shadok) pasted up on the wall in my bathroom that I would read everytime I was in there...doing my business... One of them for some reason became especially impressed upon my mind, such that I can now recite it by heart: Quand on ne sait pas où l'on va, il faut y aller, et le plus vite possible.
In English, roughly: When you don't know where you're going, you just have to go, and as quickly as possible. I had to think long and hard about that one to figure out what it meant exactly, and whether it made any sense, but now, after yes, a month of thinking, I think I am starting to get it, and I think it makes a great deal of life motto sense, if not exactly rational sense.
And with that, I leave you, my readers (if you're still out there!), until the next time I have internet/enough energy to post (I will be traveling to a new part of France daily with my parents for the next two weeks). I hope all is well chez vous, wherever you are and whatever you're doing. Until next time, salut!

Thursday, July 1, 2010

For Simplicity's Sake

This time, just a few pictures to show you what I have been doing for the past week. To my great dismay, tomorrow will be my last day with the program - after that my parents will be arriving for our tour of "The Best of Paris and the South of France in 15 Days." I absolutely can not wait for that, but at the same time, I am so very unhappy to be leaving Paris. In the 4 weeks that I have been here, learning its history, observing its inhabitants, and most of all enjoying the richessethat life here has to offer, I have come to really love this city. As a good friend of mine said, and I'm sure countless others, Paris is a magical city. By day, by night, food, art, history - Paris has so much to offer, and her citizens pay her due respect by appreciating every moment. As I have.

I have so much more to tell you, about my plans for the future (which have changed), my new excitements, my new apprehensions. But I would rather leave that for another time, and for now, let you appreciate the sights of Paris without distraction. This is how I have seen Paris. And I hope one day, you can fall in love with this city as much as I have.