Scribblings of a Sappy Study Abroad Student

Words by Chloé McElmury

THURSDAY (5/24)

Today I really felt present and aware that I was in Paris and that’s amazing. I absolutely loved the Musee d’Orsay. The Impressionists were beautiful, my familiar color schemes of cotton candy skies. I would hunt each painting for a small trace of flowers, anywhere. The Degas sculpture of the ballerina made me think of my mother, and I’m not sure why. I took a photo of it for her. When I was little, I had a large framed print of young ballerinas, stretching against a barre.

Photo by Natalie Pieterick

Photo by Chloé McElmury

Photo by Chloé McElmury

After we left the museum, we found ourselves walking across the bridge where everyone locks up their love. A passing older man and I made eye contact for a moment, and he remarked that I had “beautiful blue eyes” on the bridge. He seemed French but spoke in English. I thought it was nice that he looked at my eyes before anything else.

Every mundane thing today seemed magical. Even drinks by the Gare du Nord at dusk with a little group of us seemed special. I was happy.

TUESDAY (5/29)

I think if I could stop wanting this, it would come. And I can say and write that I won’t do it again, but I still need it. They all say I have so much time, but that isn’t reassuring to someone who sees all of the fleeting moments and mourns them. I’m not sure why I am so hung up on this, always. It never really leaves me. Today, it’s got me feeling fluttery and uneasy.

Driving through the French countryside, I feel like it’s been untouched by time. There are probably buildings and farms that have been here for years and decades and generations. Everything is so damn green and lush. We pass miniature forests that remind me of home. It is all dark green and wild and alive. There are large expanses of land, larger than I’ve seen in Minnesota, before interruptions of buildings.

You’re only reminded of the current decade by the electrical lines and cars. Otherwise, I would be fooled. I don’t think I will sleep at all on the bus ride. I enjoy looking out the window: in planes, trains, and cars. It gives me two types of feelings. The first being very reflective. It gives me time to think and just listen to music. To think about things I want or miss or need. Secondly, it sort of makes me feel like I’m in a music video, as silly as that sounds. I’ve always felt that way, even since being a child. There’s some glamorous power it gives, watching the Earth pass you as you’re on your way somewhere.

FRIDAY 6/1

I notice as we’ve been moving east, the buildings are changing. They are less classical, FrenchChâteau-type of homes. They seem like either ancient farmhouses or more modern houses that you could see in America. I notice the speckling of purple and yellow flowers along the road. I notice a deer wading in grass up to its shoulders. I wonder if it has ever encountered a human. I notice so many trees. I thought Minnesota had a lot of trees, but I think France has got us beat.

I notice I don’t see very many birds. I think I could count all of the birds I’ve seen on my fingers. (Not including pigeons). I notice I’m the only one constantly staring at the window. Jokes are made that I’m like a dog, but why wouldn’t you be trying to take in all that you can? I notice strong mountains and pines. I notice stone pillars with a gate that no longer leads anywhere, worn down by time. I notice an abandoned and ruined stone tower. Or maybe it was a really tall house. It isn’t anything anymore.

Photo by Chloé McElmury

WEDNESDAY 6/6

At the supermarket a family was buying some milk and it was only 89¢. They wanted to pay by credit card, and the lady was trying to explain it wasn’t even a whole Euro and they didn’t understand. Somehow I did even though this conversation was all in French. So, I gave them a Euro, and their reception was so sweet. They had two little girls and they both said “merci beaucoup” to me. It brought me a lot of joy that I could have this little interaction, all by myself. I felt even more proud that I had understood the situation, even though I was abroad.