I studied at Paris III (Nouvelle Sorbonne) for nearly five months with the Middlebury School in Paris. People always assume that I must have gone nuts on Europe and traveled all over Schengen; but aside from a trip to visit Bowdoin friends across La Manche (it doesn't belong to England, really), and a Christmas visit to long-lost-relatives (I kid you not) in Switzerland, this polar bear's paws stayed firmly routed on French soil.
Bowdoin taught me to take risks, to be flexible and to be honest with myself. Taking up a new martial art in a foriegn language, for example, proved to be one of the more embarassingly awkward things I've ever done in my life. I had to be bold: coxing eight middle-aged French men on a basin that featured a 180 degreee turn (1k down...1k back!) in the middle, making French friends in Japanese class, getting lost on purpose, and trying to explain bus routes when asked directions by an elderly lady... to earn my Paris.
Photos: With ACBB crew team (out of the 16th) and Alleyway in Père Lachaise cemetery.
My Yolette (boat)