Inscriptions.

They're doing some construction work on the road that I take to get to the subway stop from the apartment, and this morning when I walked by a man was standing up to his knees in concrete, setting it. There's so much to see here, and living in Paris is much less hurried than spending time in New York; people walk slower (sometimes frustratingly slowly), they pause and watch the street around them, groups of friends take up the whole sidewalk while air-kissing goodbye.

As of today, I am finished with Orientation! Tomorrow I, and most of the kids from my program, am heading off for a two-day visit to Bretagne and the Mont St. Michel. I'm pretty excited -- I love train travel and I really love the Mont St. Michel. (When I visited Paris in 2005 with MV, we did a day-trip there.) It's really the last time the whole program will be together, since starting on Monday most people's courses begin, and then we start the business of actually living and studying here.

My courses won't start until October 6, though. I've decided to take a full slate at the Université de Paris 8-Saint Dénis, although given the peculiarities of the French university system, I might be attending up to 27 hours of class the first week. Once I have my schedule all set, I'll post it. Looks like I'll be taking one film course and three literature classes, if all goes as planned! But in my week off, I'll be visiting a high-school friend staying in Strasbourg for a few days, which I'm really looking forward to.

So far, every day has brought an interesting experience of cultural difference. Last night I went out for dinner with a French friend, who had never before eaten schwarma and had never heard of a bagel. (Once I managed to explain the shape, she thought I meant a doughnut. Drawing the distinction between a bagel and a doughnut is surprisingly difficult if you can't remember the word "fried.") And I recently went to a Paris city library branch, at Vaugirard, to try and get a card ("m'inscrire"). This was a frustrating process. First, I couldn't figure out how to open the door -- there was a secret push-button thing! -- and then, once inside, I didn't see a "Inscriptions" sign, so I went and stood in an official-looking line. The librarian was quite perplexed when I asked if I could m'inscrire. "Would you not prefer an inscription for the adult collection?" he asked politely. Why yes, I would prefer an adult library card! He directed me to the right desk, with emphatic hand gestures. I approached this other librarian, an older man with wipsy white hair, and asked if it would be possible to m'inscrire.

"Do you have your passport?" he asked.

Why no, I did not have my passport! He shook his head sadly. He was afraid a passport would be required to obtain a card. Perhaps I could come back another time.

I have a second try penciled in my datebook for Monday.

Until then, I'll be busy exploring the northwest of France. Unless it rains, I should be able to take lots of pictures, so I'll definitely be doing an update next week!