This is the first time I've blogged since the trip began, so I'm well behind in my writing. They've been scribbling in their notebooks and using the hotel computers to document their daily travels. Since the trip began we've given the travelers three assignments. To warm them up, we just wanted to get the first impressions of London. They've jotted down everything from our bus mishaps to tour guides to pigeon attacks. Second, we asked students to fictionalized some account of their trip by stepping into the shoes of someone we have come across: a passerby, another group member, our tour director Vico, or even me.
Yesterday we arrived in Paris and went first to Notre Dame. Apparently the people of Paris wanted to tear down the "eye sore" that is was until Victor Hugo wrote a little tale about a hunchback ringing the bells. Since then, it has been a point of pride in the city, and Hugo is heralded all over the place. We asked the students to use sensory detail and show their passion for something by telling us what they would like to save through their words. This shall be interested. As always, traveling to new and different places forces me to reflect on myself more than anything else. Wandering through city streets, attempting--rather pathetically--at new languages, and experiencing iconic landmarks causes me to egotistically think as much about myself as about the history and people and nature that have created this world. I both take pride and shame at my abilities to be clever, intelligent, authoritative, rude, snobbish, and curious. These are all things I already know about myself, but they come through in new ways. As I get to know the fourteen students, three parents, and twenty-seven other members of the tour group all led by one fast-walking, multi-lingual, Italian-British ex-pat, I broaden my views more than ever (though I know it never seems like it). I have in five days beamed at eighteen year-olds becoming adults and marveled at the ignorance of a well traveled middle-aged woman. A lot can be determined by observing simple decisions. Who will eat at McDonald's and who will try something new? Who will clumsily speak a little French and who will talk in English without thinking? Who will complain about their weary feet and who will run--yes, run-- from the Louvre to the Eiffel Tower? Which would you do?
Oh, and for the record: running through Paris in a skirt surrounded by spirited high school students has been the highlight so far.
