c'est pas pour vous, eh!

I've been in Paris for three days now, and it's still a little hard to comprehend.

All eleven of us are staying in a small hotel together, which in itself has been fun. Like the dorms, but with fewer obnoxious people and worse internet. Even better, though, is the hotel's location -- mere blocks away from Le Jardin du Luxembourg, and a descent walking distance from several other monuments. And besides that, everything here is old and so beautiful -- every building is a monument.

The day I arrived I walked around le jardin in somewhat of a daze. I know it's hard to believe, but everyone speaks French here! And I do mean everyone -- since it's the middle of winter there aren't many foreign tourists. Even more strange and intimidating, though, is that everyone is beautiful, and everyone is fashionable. I knew that this was true of Paris, but seeing it is another thing. I mean, rarely in my life have I gone on a walk in a city and felt so underdressed. If you know me at all, you know this is saying quite a lot. But as frightening as it is, it's wonderful. A dream come true really. In that sense, at least, I feel at home -- as long as I wear black.

Since that first day it's been dawning on me more and more, the fact that I'm really here. Each day I seem to have one moment of amazed, joyous comprehension. The first time was when Alex and I were wandering around the neighborhood and completely by accident we came upon the Seine, and then, righ there, was Notre Dame. As we walked toward it, I finally saw Paris -- in the cathedral and in the river flowing past the old buildings surrounding, backlit by the setting sun. It was completely Paris as I've always imagined it.

Almost everyone is here now, as the program's about to start. We've been walking around the city together, our large group of loudly laughing Americans. (I've been taking lots of pictures, but the internet is iffy in the hotel, so I don't know how long it will be until they're online.) We've had crepes and coffee and lot of wine. We've seen the Louvre and eaten in several very Parisien bistros, all the while stumbling our way through the French language and already we have plenty of great stories. Here is one of our favorite scenes so far:

Behind Notre Dame there is a small playground, with one swing (la balançoire) and some other structures. Taylor, our resident football player, was taking his turn at enjoying this small childhood pleasure, when an older woman passed and shouted "C'est pas pour vous, eh! C'est pour les petits!" (That's not for you, eh! It's for the kids!) Since then, that has been one of our catchphrases. And as we laughed at this new inside joke, we continued to play behind the cathedral, probably laughing too loudly because we are young enough and we are in Paris when we could be in Tacoma.

We are so damn lucky.