Nora Heimann, assistant professor of art; Julian Nelson, assistant professor of modern languages; and Peter Shoemaker, assistant professor of modern languages:

On Saturday, we arrived at the hotel around noon. The students were exhausted and the rooms (alas!) weren't ready. We stowed the bags in the basement and sent the students out to get a bite to eat. We went out ourselves and observed the students wandering around the neighborhood in timid groups, too tired, or perhaps too intimidated by the new landscape, to order a sandwich. Two of the young women, however, were resourceful enough to beat us — seasoned visitors to Paris — to the bank and had already purchased euros. After lunch, we came back to the hotel and found the students in the lobby dozing on sofas, each other, the floor.

	CUA students adjusted to a cafe lifestyle quickly.

After getting into our hotel rooms that evening, we flocked to the restaurant in a large group. On the way, as we dodged aggressive Parisian traffic, conversation turned around the students' first reactions to France: their adventures ordering lunch, the closet-sized hotel rooms, the lack of privacy and so on.

Over the course of the week, we dined out in small, typical French restaurants. We'll never forget the expression on the students' faces when they saw that there was no English on the menu.

Professor Shoemaker:
As a language teacher, I was gratified — and amazed — that every student made an effort to order in French. In terms of confidence and a willingness to communicate in a foreign idiom, they had made more progress in a matter of hours than many students in my classes back in the U.S. make over the course of a semester.

In the typical French manner, the long meals encouraged conversation and created a sense of community among the students — many of whom hardly knew each other before coming to Paris. We suspect the shared experience of a foreign culture has broadened their horizons and brought them closer together.

Professor Heimann:
One of my favorite memories from the trip began at a small cafe in the heart of the Latin Quarter, not far from the Pantheon and the Sorbonne. I had brought a few students to a little brasserie for dinner there, and — at once curious and adventurous in the face of a strange menu — they ordered every unusual cut of meat on the menu. They ordered in French bravely, ate their pig's feet and pâté with relish, and took the warm-hearted teasing of the waiters with aplomb. We left the restaurant late, so we arrived at our hotel long after midnight, leaving little time to sleep before arising for early morning Mass on Ash Wednesday (mercredi des cendres). As I sat next to all the students in the church I felt lucky to be in Paris at the start of Lent — a city where so many Catholics have sought to renew their faith each Lent for centuries — in the company of students whose youthful energy and compelling intelligence was balanced by an even more engaging open heart.

Professor Nelson:
Part of my tour involved taking the students shopping. I had expected to be called upon for help with the purchases, but in a second-hand clothing boutique the students took matters into their own hands, negotiating prices and bartering with the seasoned, yet somewhat bemused store owner. Every student bought something: a coat, bell-bottom jeans, a hat, a leather jacket, etc. Some immediately put on their new clothes, tucking their U.S. clothing into their bags. They looked more Parisian every day.

On the last day in the city, after our group activities, the students took off one by one or in pairs to different destinations around Paris: used record shops, the Père-Lachaise cemetery, etc. As we watched them disappear into the crowd, we remembered how bewildered they had been, on arrival, at the bustle and chaos of the city...