Free at last, free at last...

Greetings one and all. On Wednesday 13th February 2008, just before 11am, I exited a Sciences Po classroom and made my way down several flights of stairs. I sat on the bench in the peniche and waited for Cassie, who I knew would be following me shortly. I had just finished my exam for “Grande Nation: Modern and Contemporary French Foreign Policy”. It was a two hour essay exam with a choice of 2 topics. I chose the topic about the importance of rupture and continuity in french foreign policy since 1870. I don’t honestly know how I did because I’m never entirely confident that I understand what the ScPo professors want, but I thought I did fairly well. I wrote about how France’s perception of itself as a “Grande Nation” has underlied it’s foreign policy for the last 140 years, despite the fact that France’s glory-days are largely behind them. I won’t bore you with the details, but I didn’t think I did half bad. I was feeling relieved to have it over with, as I saw Cassie coming down the stairs. She grinned and walked over to me and before I could ask how it went said, “You just finished college!” It caught me off-guard and I paused a moment and said that strange sentence again- I just finished college? The reality of it washed over me and I stood there in the middle of the peniche smiling like a crazy person. Over the previous few weeks people at home and here had often asked me if I was excited about being almost done with school. I said “sure”, but I hadn’t really thought about it. I had been trying to focus on passing my exams and not on reveling in excitement of finishing college. I honestly didn’t think that it would be anything very thrilling. I really think at first Cassie was more excited about it than I was, but Cassie’s boundless enthusiasm (one of my favorite aspects of her personality) was contagious. The combination of sleep deprivation, caffeine, and the jittery relief of being finished with exams led to an animated conversation and goofy goodbyes as various friends passed through the atrium on their way to and from other exams. Each time Cassie informed someone that “Lyndsey just took her last exam EVER,” my smile got a little bigger.

I don’t know for sure, but I’m guessing that I’m probably the only person at Sciences Po that just finished college. People don’t typical pick their last semester of college as the time to go abroad. Because of that I’ve spent this semester in limbo with basically nobody else my age around. In the undergrad program at school my friends are all a year or two younger, while my friends at church are mostly finished with college and thus a year or two (or more) older. It’s alright, I’ve never been very good at “normal”, why start now?

Anyway, the group in the peniche dispersed towards more exams or to begin their semester break travels and I walked out onto rue Saint Guillaume and into the cool February sunshine. I was exhausted and giddy all at once. Three back-to-back nights of cramming for finals meant I needed rest, but I was too pumped to be able to sleep. I walked the long way to the metro, enjoying the fresh air and my first sip of freedom. I put an energetic song on my iPod and fought a losing battle with the corners of my mouth that jerked involuntarily upwards every few minutes when the thought “no more school!” crossed my mind again. When I made it to the apartment I was going to do the Rocky run up to my door, but I live up 6 flights of narrow winding stairs and I had a collective 8 hours of sleep over the previous 3 nights, so I only made it up about 2 flights in that manner, and then resigned myself to a more leisurely climb to the top. After I recovered though, i did dance around my apartment for a while.

That evening was a going-away dinner for my friend Abe who has been here working for 6 months. Several of us met at a cramped chinese restaurant over by Espace St. Martin and passed a pleasant evening eating weird food and conversing. It, like all oriental food in Paris, made me miss American-chinese food. I know it bears no resemblance to authentic chinese food, but I don’t care. Some of the real stuff is good but I’d trade it for some food-court Chinese. Oddly enough “chinese” food was my last American meal. During my layover in the Atlanta airport I sat at a counter eating Panda Express’s orange chicken and some beef and broccoli with steamed rice while discussing Macs and the ridiculousness of Charles-de-Gaulle airport with a pilot. Hard to believe that was about 6 months ago. It was late by the time we finished and parted company in the street and my tired was finally catching up with me. I said goodbye to Abe as he got off the metro with a hug and a semiserious “have a nice life.” Hopefully someday down the road our paths will randomly cross again, but unfortunately that may not be the case with Abe or most of the friends I’ve made these months.

Paris is superb because because it attracts individuals from every horizon and forges an inordinate bond between people who in other circumstances would likely never have become friends. No matter our backgrounds, we are united in the common experience of separation and our status as outsiders. The unifying factor of “foreignness” is enough to override a myriad of differences. But for most of us our time in Paris is a fleeting period, and in the end we return to whence we came or move on to other adventures. If we are lucky there will be moments in the future where we find ourselves in the same city at the same time as an old Paris pal, and we may keep in contact with our closest expat friends over the years, but in large we will move on with only memories of “our “ Paris and a soft spot in our hearts for those who stood beside us in the cobblestone trenches fighting the battle to make sense out of a beautifully bizarre world.