No longer a B student

Cumulative grade point average: A-

Graduation is on Thursday. I wonder if they hand out already-framed diplomas. That would be awesome.

Paris is particularly beautiful right now.

Countdown

Sorry to whomever asked for the translation in the previous blog post:
"Pardon?" I asked.
"Pardon (me)?"

"Est-ce que c'est moi qui vous cherchez?"
"Is it me that you're looking for?"

"Pardon?"
"Pardon (me)?" (still not understanding)

"Est-ce que c'est moi qui vous cherchez?"
"Is it me that you're looking for?"

I giggled, "Oh, non, desole, c'est ne pas vous aujourd'hui - autre fois peut-etre."
"Oh, no, sorry, it's not you today - another time maybe."

%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%%

So...
Major project presented. Major meeting now over copyright ownership between the program and us students. (Yes, the film is THAT good!)

One memo left - working on now. Everything turned in on Friday. And I'm done!

I'll leave Sunday to Toulouse for a couple of days with friends from back home in Madison, WI. Then, Barcelona for a couple of days. Then, Geneva for several days. Back for graduation on the 18th. My sister and her fiance come to town that day. We stay in Paris until the 23rd, head to Cinque Terre Italy, then off to some yet TBD destination, and then Amsterdam for several days. Wooo whirlwind!

Paris? Well, she's doing well. A two-day heat wave and now it's back to chilly cold. Strange weather, indeed. Anything outside of that and I'm clueless. Nose in the books right now.

For Starman, RE: financial crisis

Really. I don't know how Europe is weathering the recession. Not that I can't comment, but I've been rather insulated from the inside scoop. It's been a lot of doom and gloom all over the world, but the US's market is heavily consumer based and driven by credit. The EU as a whole is a larger consumer base than the US, but parts (Germany) export more strongly and the money market is not the same. The USD to Euro is holding pretty steady at $1.30-ish over the past months. Unemployment has risen all over the world, but the social services net is wider and stronger in the EU to help citizens get back on their feet (in their same sector or otherwise, remaining healthy, and protecting their pensions), which leads to continued stability through small business loans, consumption, production for exports, etc. Also, they haven't had the enormous banking crises that the US has had. Perhaps due to better regulation, better banking practices, or just the fact that the banking sector is less influencing (while still tied globally and having purchased the same MBS purchases).

So, in my unprofessional personal opinion, I think the EU is fairing better in this recession, but is still feeling it.

Here's a portion of what the European Central Bank said on 27 April 2009

"First, there are profound differences in the financial structures of the euro area and the United States. The United States has a primarily market-based financial system; in contrast, the financial system of the euro area is largely bank-centred. A few numbers illustrate these differences. At the end of 2007, the stock of outstanding bank loans to the private sector amounted to around 145% of GDP in the euro area. The corresponding proportion of bank loans to GDP in the United States is only 63%. This means that the banking sector is more than twice as important in the euro area as it is in the United States. It also means that to be effective, ECB policy must focus first and foremost on the banking sector.

Similarly, direct debt securities account for 81% of GDP in the euro area. The corresponding proportion in the United States is 168%. This means that market-based financing plays a much smaller role in the euro area and is only half as relevant as in the United States. Therefore, the structures of private credit outstanding in the euro area and the United States are almost mirror images: recourse to banks on our side of the Atlantic makes up two-thirds of non-equity external finance. On this side, the equivalent proportion is only around 30%. Against this background, it is natural that the Federal Reserve’s “credit easing” policies mainly target markets for debt securities, whereas our policies of “enhanced credit support” focus on banks.

There are also many profound differences in our respective economic structures, which of course are also reflected in financial structures. For the sake of brevity, I will single out three characteristics of the euro area economy that our policies have to take into account in order to be effective.

The first characteristic is the very important role that small and medium-sized enterprises (SMEs) play for the euro area economy. These SMEs in general cannot tap credit markets directly. Guaranteeing continued access to bank credit is vital for SMEs to be able to finance their activities.

The second characteristic is the role of the housing market in the crisis. In the United States, the housing market is at the epicentre of the crisis. This is not true for the euro area. Nevertheless, the euro area is indirectly affected as banks there hold toxic assets partly backed by mortgage loans originated in the United States. Forcefully addressing the toxic asset problem is a precondition for reviving credit on both sides of the Atlantic. I should add that addressing this problem clearly falls into the realm of fiscal policy, not monetary policy.

The third characteristic is the flexibility of the economy. Goods and services prices and wages are more sluggish in the euro area than in the United States. This sluggishness, on the one hand, has drawbacks as it slows down the adjustment of the euro area economy to adverse shocks. At the same time it offers some protection against very bad outcomes, provided that the policy framework provides a solid anchor for private sector expectations. In the euro area, the institutional framework provides such an anchor through the medium-term stability orientation of fiscal policies and monetary policy geared towards fiscal sustainability and price stability. In this environment, overly activist policies risk destabilising expectations and, thus, being counterproductive.

In technical terms, I would say that acknowledging the existence of structural differences between the euro area and the United States is crucial for understanding the mechanisms behind the policy models and concepts that we use in our decision-making processes. Structural differences imply that the policy response has to be calibrated to the structure of the economy."




And, here's what the French finance minister, Christine Lagarde said on Jon Stewart's "The Daily Show" - we're all in it together, so don a beret and grab a glass of wine. Somehow we'll pull through.

The Daily Show With Jon Stewart	M - Th 11p / 10c
Christine Lagarde
thedailyshow.com
Daily Show Full Episodes Economic Crisis First 100 Days

Why I've been so quiet

Last month of grad school:
Multilevel Economic Governance: paper on deepening my examination of the US-Colombia trade agreement, trade as a whole, FTAs, WTO, waivers, pros and cons
Risk Governance: we have to re-work last semeter's paper = Regulatory Risk, EU Commission and anti-discrimation directives on Member States
Final Capstone Project: we're writing the final script of our documentary (see my Risk paper), Croatia is our case study as they ascend to the EU

Speaking of Croatia, I'm uploading the photos from our trip to Zagreb. Should be up on flickr by end of today.

And then the on-going job hunt. Narrowing in on Geneva. Aiming to shop around the documentary and mapping exercise (business, legal, moral case for diversity management in Europe) to consultancies, NGOs, governments.

Paris is in full spring bloom with hot days followed by cool rains. Oh, and I posted photos from the Paris Marathon on flickr. I never found my girl friend who ran, but there are some pretty interesting shots of the finish, which I hope convey the overwhelming sense of endorphins that was in the air then.

I can't believe I'll have a Master soon. It's mind blowing. My sister and her fiance are coming in June after graduation and we're looking at heading to Cinque Terre again. It's such a beautiful part of the world.

Spring, my friends

It's warmer out and sunny (although not today). I'm walking around more, enjoying the city, falling in love with Paris and all the couples who are in love by the Seine.

I'm also headed to Croatia on Monday for 6 days for my Capstone project. We've got interviews with Ministers, the UNDP, human rights groups, etc. And, will hopefully have some time for some frolic, too. I'm looking 1.5 months of real class work right now and it's scary. Two major papers to write, two memos, final project. And job hunting. And trying to have a personal life. My best friend from when I was fifteen years old is coming to visit in 2 weeks with her husband (with whom we went to school). I haven't seen her since Cape Cod in 1992. It'll be a trip, for sure.

Paris is beautiful right now. I'm trying to soak her up as best as I can, because who knows where I'll be in the autumn. I'm really focusing on Geneve, Paris, Brussels, DC, NYC, and SF. I like cities. If you know of anyone who is hiring -- hook a sister up!

PS. Thanks, Kim, you're too sweet.

The bad side of grad school

I'm sitting here at midnight and friends have asked me out for drinks and I'm trapped here under a (so far) 6 hour analysis of a policy-turned-law 10 years ago in the US.

I'm intrigued with the makings of the law, the complex coalition that was grown out of a truly disturbing personal goal of one man. I've read at least 12 different sources that have analyzed the history and outcomes of this law and its process.

I can see with my eyes that I am bigger than the small icons on my laptop. I am a monster in comparison to them. I could eat each little icon as a peanut.

Yet, I am so insignificant in the world. I am a spec on a grain of sand in a millennium of time. I can research this piece of foreign policy and can understand the humanity behind it, the assumptions that made it. But I'm frozen when it comes to the section wherein I'm supposed to make recommendations to change it or improve it or demolish it or convert it. I'm a blip in voices who think they could make a difference. Who do I think I am to recommend anything? As if a year and half of school should give ME the wisdom to make any difference.

The more I learn, the more I know I know nothing.

What recommendations would make any difference? It's one small policy in a world of complexities. It's one 3 billion dollar line item in a budget that can give trillions away to the auto industry. It's one policing policy in a thousand passed over the last 8 years.

I am frozen when it comes to the next step. I could give a 100-page dissertation on how to make things better, to rectify what damage has been done... but I am still coming from my own interpretations, my own background, my own beliefs, my own ideas of what is "better" or my own vision of the future. What good does that do? I am no Gandhi. I am no MLK. I am no Mother Teresa. I am a tiny ant living at the top of a small hill in the marsh of a microscoped country in an itty-bitty continent on a cell of a planet. What strength has my little voice? What change can my Times New Roman font make into the pool of chaos? What's the point? Even if I were to publish the papers on which I write - into one of a million journals - who would care?

I'm finding it interesting to read and understand these policies that we so rarely hear about. That our (US) tax dollars pay for. But I don't even hope to work for the US government. So, who cares? What is the point of all this? Who cares when the more things change the more they stay the same?

Sigh.

..... we now resume with our regularly scheduled programming......

Countown!

I was speaking to my cave guy tonight, when buying wine for the US election party tomorrow, and he's for Obama. Peeking over someone's shoulder who was reading the newspaper on the metro, and the US map was full of color: reds, blues, swings. Maybe electrons really do fly fast, but I can FEEL the energy from the US over here. So excited!!

But first, I have to get through final planning details of the conference, linen laundry, full day of class tomorrow (10am - 18h), run home, un-fold the futon couch-bed, pull out the air mattress, put away the drying clean clothes, tidy up last details, and then go to the Election Party. Stay up as late as I can (will we know by 6am Paris time?). Sleep during the day. Go to school. Help with registration and set-up. And then, hopefully be a joyous bundle of contentment at the fact that we'll have our first African-American President. Ooooo so excited!!!

I'll have a big, long post on conference planning in Paris because I tell you, it is an entirely different beast. Panelists we invited 6 months ago and started calling 3 months ago are still undecided. There isn't such thing as a conference center at Sciences Po. Accommodation with students and staff is hell because we all live in flats the size of bread-boxes or in a dormitory at Cite Universitaire. Panelists cancelling at last minute. Visiting students making irrational demands from abroad. It's been an interesting challenge. Kind of like running a campaign, including firing staff people, setting deadlines along the way, keeping it cool on the outside while I freak out on the inside, giving interviews to other students not engaged in the planning, schmoozing to get panelists, encouraging team members, etc. So, while I wasn't in the States to do my usual Get Out the Vote efforts, I've run my own campaign down here. Let's hope it goes as smoothly as Obama's!!

Cheers to all!

Finally French, with a Few Flaws

Oh, my horoscope is right:
TAURUS (April 20-May 20): I usually don't have to tell you Bulls how important it is to finish what you've started. You are, after all, among the top three signs of the zodiac when it comes to following through. But just in case you've momentarily fallen under the sway of a delusion that would encourage you to escape before the resolution is fully in place, I'm here to remind you: It's time to make the art of completion your graceful obsession.

I had to fire a colleague from conference planning and now am on my own as the leader of the event, but have learned so many good lessons from this: delegate, communicate, and then, move on if all else has failed.

&&&&&&&&&&&&&

So, the firing was Wednesday night. Thursday, I was tired and grumpy when I got up, and it trickled down all day until an outburst that wasn't so nice. Short on rest and finally fed up, I reached a point of no longer being patient with all things French (or Parisian).

The carte de sejour. It's a brutal process to re-apply for the residency permit, but it's made a bit easier at school because there's one poor, sweet woman who attends to all the students (between select hours) for our applications. I remember seeing her last year after waiting for 4 hours one day, and then on another day after a 2-hour wait. The first time I didn't even make it in to see her. After 4 hours waiting, she came out of her office and apologized, but it was the end of the day and she wouldn't be seeing any more students. The second time I made sure I had all the necessary paperwork to ensure I wouldn't have to return - and I didn't! Got the temporary letter of permission, followed it with the doctor visit, and then got the official card to say I could stay in this country.

So, now I'm renewing, which should be easy. But, no bureaucratic thing in France is. I went for my first visit two weeks ago. With about 12 people in line, she wasn't accepting any more applicants at the 3pm hour. Left defeated and irritate. It's about a fifteen-minute walk from class - not much, but it becomes a lot when you're squeezing it in between class, lunch, class.

Returned last week and got in line behind ten people. Waited patiently, got some good work done, and finally got my chance. Had everything needed but a 3-month set of bank statements - I imagine the French government wants to assure spending within its borders or enough money to weather the financial crisis.

While I waited there were like 10 legitimate people for their first visit and repeated line-cutters who only had a few papers to turn in after being turned away with instructions for return.

She's a sweet paper lady, the carte de sejour woman. Does she have a name plate? Nope. Do we know her name on her door? No. She's like anon carte de sejour lady. Smiling even while I could barely write my name for lack of food, which produced hand shaking. She is patient and even-spirited. I'm sure she drinks a whole bottle of Pinot Noir each night and must smoke a pack a day just to get through, although I'm not sure when she'd find time for a break.

Yup, everything in order but the bank statements - a new turn for this year.

So, I came back about a week later. Asked the waiting students how the day was going and realized we had a first-timer, and two who just needed to drop their additions off - bank statements or other papers. Gradually, over the hour I was there, more and more people came and thought they had the right to just go to the office and basically jump the line. I tried my horrible French to ask what they were there for and to indicate that, yes, we were all here for a carte de sejour, which humbled most into getting in line. After about a half-hour with the first-timer in the office, trying to navigate in broken French and English between carte de sejour lady and the applicant, people started to lose their patience. The Aussie gal was like, I'm gonna get sacked if I don't make it back to work. I was corralling people into line. The Canandian boy was too timid to coral and admitted it. The last woman was Chinese, who unfortunately supported my style of dictating to the others.

After explaining to two students, I told the Aussie and the Canadian waiting that it was their turn to keep watch and explain. Aussie had perfect French and convinced a Russsian girl to leave due to time constraints. The Canandian got nowhere and never spoke.

I let the Aussie jump me to get her paperwork in and get off to her job. Then, a woman showed up and I informed her we were all in line for the same thing. She acknowledged and yet still waited at the open door. After the first-timer left, the Aussie went in and was rounding up her paperwork, and then - after me waiting there an hour and half - the French woman took a step inside the office. I know where it came from, from the bottom of my belly, from desperation, from tiredness, from justice, from impatience, from what is right. I jumped up and cut her off and had a heated explain in Franglo (French-English combo) that, dude, she might just have to "posé une question" but we all to just pose a question so get in line, woman. It was quite a complex exchange of my fumbling words and her defensiveness.

But after me not jumping the line, after being patient, after letting Aussie-freak-out-get-sacked, after all of it, I wasn't patient anymore. There is a process in the world - maybe not in France, but in the world there is respect for others and a degree of understanding that you have to wait your turn. And, maybe I was trying to transpose an American value, but dammit, I was fed up with the weird system I was subjected to. So, I Franglo'd my way through and she stormed out - after commenting that I didn't need to be so stressed, that all she had was a question, that it's not a big deal.

I entered to the empty seat opposite carte de sejour lady and she smiled, "Well (in French), I see you've been very patient. Thank you. Let's get this going." I informed her, with smiles and relaxed, that it was no big deal and that I'd be quick and all I had were my bank statements. She basically ignored the rest of my dossier (which she already approved, but generally wanted to look over in 2nd detail review), looked at the dates of my statements, approved, and signed a quick form.

It wasn't that I felt power at that moment, but that I felt justice. I'm still not used to this system where anything goes. Where the line at the post office all of a sudden becomes 2 strange lines because someone inches up alongside instead of behind and then thinks they can challenge you to the open window (when only 2 of 4 are open -- is this not just like Buenos Aires in 1988?). The lines at any window - a train station, a boulangerie - there's no form to them. They are layered and who cares who was there first - it's survival of the fittest - if you can edge up, you get served. So, damn me if I'm going to fight for that window then.

It was quite unusual for me. Even before entering carte de sejour hell, I'd spent 45 minutes in line at the post office to mail my election ballot. I'm patient. I'm even. I'm forgiving and I'm flexible. But only to a point.

I have started to understand the pattern of walking and transportation. It's like India, it seems like mass chaos, but people have their own patterns and rules for merging, signaling, crossing. In Paris, in Europe, the scooters take the free space of the roads or sidewalks, the cars merge quickly, the buses have a greater right if you don't beat them first, everyone has great brakes. Passing on the sidewalk there's no walk on the right, pass on the left. There is no order. It's free for all and each for their own - don't run over the bicyclist, don't rear-end the scooter, don't get rear-ended (and they are MUCH better drivers than in the USA). But it's a pattern I don't get yet. I still think it's more efficient to find a general agreement to path and passing. A conformist understanding. But they seem to make this chaos work. Not for me, not yet. So, when someone cuts the line, I take issue. Or, I took issue.

It felt good to defend myself, but I also felt tremendously like an a-hole.

I'm still not sure how to balance this.

Following this encounter, I was on my home, waiting for the bus. Three young girls, maybe ten or eleven years old, were goofing off waiting for the bus, too. One of them pushed another and she dropped her empty pop can on the sidewalk. They were giggling and pushing each other - you pick it up, no you. A mom walked by with her two kids and pointed the empty can to the girls and scolded them to pick it up. They laughed as she walked off and finger-pointed at each other again - you pick it up, no you. After I noticed that they were almost content to let it sit, I decided to say something.

Frankly, I'd been practicing this in my head since I saw a few juvenile boys launch their burger wrappers into the street. So, I turned to two of them, and said, "Mademoiselle, ça c'est pour la poubelle, c'est ne pas pour la rue." I'm sure this is wholly incorrect, but they both lurched for the can and picked it up and then giggle-fought over who had to deposit it. The bus came so I missed the end of it all. They got on and I read my homework the way home while listening to their giggles on the bus.

This felt less like power or old-lady-correcting, and more like, damn it, I like Paris and she gets trashed too often. Granted, there are paid sidewalk washers and street cleaners and poubelle picker-uppers, but people shouldn't just get lazy about it all. They'll still need the sidewalk washers and poubelle-picker-uppers since dogs still can't seem to pick up their own poops, and pigeons aren't trained yet, and there's still garbage in the poubelle. But at least we could stop adding to the crap.

I still felt like an a-hole. Who am I to think I can take a stand like this? I'm just a visitor. This isn't my country, nor my town. But I do like to abide by the "home is where I lay my head." So, I guess I do feel like I belong and I'd like to respect it.

My French has definitely improved though. So has my courage.

To be French

Thank god I'm not 19 anymore. Really. But I did have a nice evening hanging out with a new colleague at school (who is 30) and 3 French teenagers. Colleague and I went for a drink following a long day at school and then were invited to beers by the next table over.

I'm always astounded when I hear the America-Love from people. And I've heard it from my Chinese colleagues via a link regarding the fascination with America during the Olympics. And tonight I heard it again from three 19-year-old French boys. They cited more movies and TV shows than I've seen in the States. They spoke "American English" as opposed to British. It's strange to look inside from the outside.

Of course, I know it's easier to criticize the US while I carry her passport. And I can always return. But how strange, in the middle of a financial meltdown and in the middle of the fresh roll of a new wave of The Depression. But people still hold a high regard for the US, an esteemed worship, a lust, a hope for the country and to find themselves someday making their yellow brick road there.

It hasn't changed my view on the country. I'm still skeptical - despite the Hope instilled by Obama (and these boys know Obama and McCain and know that Change is associated with the former and toasted to it). I'm still exhausted with the work ethic. Still dismayed by the urban and rural planning of the country. Still disencouraged by the policies. Still hoping to get a job in Europe or the rest of the world so I won't have to return next year. But then I run into these people who want to clink every round of beers to the US and to the hope it instills.

It's true, too. In Europe, or at least in France, still, to this day, you have to declare your intended track of study before you graduate high school. You have to determine your fate beforehand and you have to stick to it. There's no such thing as a 33-year-old going back to school. It's unheard of and weird. Hence, the lack of student discounts for me - they end at 26 years old. No one can understand why someone would be able to or want to change their life path.

To these boys, the US represents Hollywood, New York City, chance, glory, opportunity, uniqueness, freedom. To me it represents the opposite for I have felt the crush of these things. But we always think the grass is greener over there, don't we?

And now that I'm in Paris again, I remember how much I love my boulangerie, my cave man with the wonderfully cheap wine, the idea of sitting out on a sidewalk drinking beer for hours in the evening, the risk of greve (strike) any moment, the challenge of being a country, a city, and a piece of the EU. Who is the US a member of? Iraq??? To whom do we have to submit our concerns?

It's food for thought on a late night before a class.....

What kind of a policy-maker are they making here? I'm not a Socialist or a Republican or a Liberal or a Fancy Pants. But good god, what has this education in France given me??

Grad school complexities

It's a lovely season. Cooling off, leaves are changing, all the Parisians have returned (although I wasn't here when they left so I don't notice the difference), new students are infiltrating the balance, and new viruses are spread all over the metro and buses. I have a cold, which could be a sinus infection. I hate being sick, although it does give pause to living, which is a nicely forced slow down.

School started last week with orientation on Thursday and Friday, although I'd already been there a few times before to present the conference to the new first-year students - who look way better than our class does, very encouraging. This week we slowly started some courses and debated the procedure and results of electing our concentrations and capstones. Concentrations include things like risk management, economic and territorial development, human security, multilevel economic governance, welfare. They include an overview course each semester (which can be taken as an elective) and a hands-on methods course (not allowed to be taken as elective).

Frankly, I wanted to take them all but that's impossible. I got swept up by professor presentations and changed my mind at least ten times. Finally, I settled on the top three choices that would be submitted to admin: multilevel, risk, human security. There was a draw and almost everyone but three of us got their first or second selections. There's way more to it, but I didn't truly - in the end - want human security as a concentration. I have a background in welfare and a type of human security (which basically just places the person as the central focus as opposed to the state or war). To make myself well-rounded I need an economic or management concentration. So there was a bit of a heated discussion with the director, and man, was I proud of myself for holding my ground but not pushing too hard. It's a delicate balance to insist without demanding, confront without breaking down, justify without whining.

I wanted to pull the money card - after all, I am paying a &%$# ton of money to go to school here - but that seemed like last resort, and an unspoken obviousness. I did play the "I'm doing a lot for this program" card, which felt a bit cheap, and the "It's not like I'm going to tell other people and incite a riot for everyone to change their concentrations," which also felt slimy. The procedure was transparent, agreed upon, and rather equal among all parties. In the end, the resolution was to allow the 3 of us who got our third choice to switch, but no one else. In the end, not enough people chose the welfare concentration so it was cancelled - second year in a row. Last year they converted it into a lecture series, which I attended diligently. The human security was saved and the 3 of us are content with our decisions. I got my second choice: Risk Management.

Next up, the capstones, which are basically the replacement for doing a thesis. It's more professionally-focused, where we work in a group with a leader who brings a case study for us to resolve. Again, all of them are interesting on some level, and they all involve a degree of travel, which is a big draw. I didn't want to do the Eastern Europe-Mekong trade comparison because it would involve too much travel for me to handle with the other school work. It was, of course, the most popular. Instead I went with a diversity-focused capstone that would involve analyzing a multi-national corporation's adherence to a new diversity law in Europe and offering direction on how to improve it - if needed. The firm is based in Europe, Asia, and Latin America so there is potential travel there, and interesting comparisons between developing and developed countries. My second choice was a Corporate Social Responsibility (CSR) project working with fair labor practices and firms who signed an agreement with the ILO to improve their practices. My third choice is led by the professors of my concentration and deals with analysis of nuclear energy facilities and regulation through these risks.

Well, we'll hear today hopefully what we get for Capstones. It's a gamble and a game and slightly a prisoner's dilemma. Do you put your real first choice or the first choice everyone is aiming for to ensure you get your second choice, which is your real first choice? Yesterday, we had an open discussion with the admin, because only 6 of the 9 capstones were chosen by students - with way too many in some areas (Mekong and CSR), which would mean putting the school's reputation into jeopardy by telling a capstone leader that no one selected their project. In the end, one project was saved by a group of smart kids who switched to the capstone openly. This enables them to have their choice of project AND know with whom they'll be working. That's the other unknown about the whole group project blind pick thing. Who knows who you'll be working with because, even if you plot with your good friends to choose XYZ, who knows if you both get it? And, as second-year students who stayed at the school (instead of doing a dual-degree program and moving over to Columbia NYC or London Sch of Econ or Hertie in Berlin or Lee Kuan Yee in Singapore), we're aware of the group dynamic complexity since other schools don't focus on this as much. The difference between last year and this year's groups is that this year you're stuck with the group for a whole 9 months, whereas last year maybe you'd be stuck with people for a week or a semester.

So, the boys were smart yesterday by letting go of particular desires (a capstone can translate into job opportunities) and going for others (clear group dynamics). I know who the people were who selected my capstone and knew I could work with them, but really, I'm much more flexible in this area. The most problematic person last year was a guy who didn't return this year. I worked with him twice, once in a big group and once in a smaller group. In the former, I was unable to really move him to think of things in a different way or communicate displeasure since there were so many other people who were already regretting his presence and trying to direct him one way or another. In the latter situation, I could kind of direct the dispersion of group tasks in a way that would influence his contribution - by re and re-emphasizing exactly what everyone's tasks were and deadlines. He did a great job in the end and we were all pleased. So, I'm not terrified by the unknown of the group dynamic as much as other people who have genuinely made enemies by either being themselves (some are slightly abrasive) or just not connecting well with other personalities.

Anyway, in the meantime, I'm also regretting being the conference organizer for this student conference in November. ... whew. From keynote speakers to panelists to alumni receptions to accommodations to supplies to registration applications to budget. I have a co-organizer who is attending LSE this year and, well, likes to delegate his activities more than I can accept and often tries to delegate back to me, which I think is hilarious. The first-year students are fantastic and really stepping up to help - thank god. We're a month away and there's a TON to do still. One day at a time. One deep breath after another.


Here's some Paris in the autumn - I have gotten out a bit these days.

Oh those Latin Americans..

they can really drink you under the table.

I am so thrilled to be back in school you can't even imagine. I am ecstatic to have a schedule - boulangerie for the best bread at 6pm, groceries at the market on Saturday, class orientation at 9am until 9pm. I'm too happy for anyone to be this happy. I walked home tonight - and not intoxicated but filled with a few beers with friends from last year - with a wide grin to send to the ladies on the corner, the men in the arab grocery stores, the couple holding hands on the metro, the people on the street. I am too happy for this world!

Yes, I loved my summer in Geneve, and yes, I felt free, but more than that, I feel ... like fireworks, like a birthday ice cream cake from Dairy Queen, like Christmas right before you open the presents... I feel this about every day of life. I am so thankful thank you thank you thank you to whomever is owed these thanks for me being alive and free and fortunate and lucky to live.. LIVE. Even in the struggle of fear of the financial collapse, the fear of no job next year, the fear of deciding classes, the fear of what Presidential candidates are deciding each day, the fear of poverty ever-lasting, the sadness of corruption, the depression of losing all holds on reality.. despite these, and WITH them, I am still blessed to feel such utter contentment with life.

"Death is the Easy Way" by My Morning Jacket played on my headphones as I walked home. Replayed over and over again. It's a horribly depressing song, but it inspired in me a sense of freedom and remembrance that death is the easy way and life is hard and messed up and difficult and messy and not easy and my god I'm so lucky to have it. And I'm not at all naive enough to think that this moment will last. I know that in 4 weeks I'll be stressed out and complaining and freaking out and wishing for simpler times. But I will still, even then, remember how lucky I am to feel the feelings of those emotions and experiences.

It will be 11 years this October when Mike killed himself. I can see him standing here right now. I even almost forgot his name but I could still see his face, his fresh-faced youth snicker and blonde hair and glasses. His punk look and detached coolness. He was dating Liberty, my roommate in Minneapolis. She was one of eight roommates at the time in our 3-story house. I had just meet her in the kitchen one day, after I had re-enlisted into college after a two year absence. I moved in with my old friends and she was new and blonde and black clothes. We all were then. And she came with Mike later, who became a funny, comical character around the house. He was in a band, as were so many of our friends then. He lived with like five other guys over at Dead End Alley - named that for the street sign just outside their house. Minneapolis was and is a cold place with generously warm hearts and a ton of community. But he was suffering. And Liberty helped in so many ways. She'd made an appointment with him with a psychologist or some such. The day before the appointment, he climbed into a car in the carport of Dead End Alley and hitched a tube between the exhaust pipe and the window.

He is my inspiration. Every autumn. It used to be every day, then every week, then month, then he just kind of melted into my own thoughts and personality. He has become a talisman in a way. Live now. Life is short. Live well. Live with all the emotions of life. Life is bigger than just happiness. Life is broader than just joy. Life is all the pain and sadness and hatred and depression and happiness and success. Life just fucking is. And this is his gift to me.

I can still see him standing there.

Slightly goofy and too smart for his own good.

And I'm smiling now. Laughing even!

God, he's given me a good thing.

Life is short. It should be lived to the fullest in any way possible.



Yah.

Yeah.

Well, here's to Mike. And to my friends Eduardo and Juan Pablo and Kimberley. For tonight. We hadn't seen each other since last year and they invited me for beers. We were close in varying degrees last year. Degrees that came and went like waves. Disgust, anger, rejection, friendship, confidence, love, hatred, jealousy, indifference. But we had such good talks tonight. There are some people in life that are just that. Friends in unique degrees, who are deeper friends than we know, revealed to us only in special moments. These people are ... well, I hope never to lose them. Like Dasha. She is far from me but we are friends. I know this without having to read her words. But it's icing on the cake to see a sentence from her. I'm not afraid of being far from my friends because I know I can find them again. Petty, but Facebook has helped this triple-fold. Regardless of it, I am so fortunate to know that my friends, family, loved ones are out there - in the world. Rooting for me. Working on just causes. Loving each other. Loving life. This sustains me. And, my god, I'm so fortunate for this knowledge and feeling.

Thank you thank you thank you.

Thank YOU.
yes, YOU.

Life is short. Be it. Live it. Be here now.

Leaving on a jet plane

Well, rather, on a fast train.

Bought my ticket to Paris on Monday. Leaving on 9/11. Seems appropriate since I left the USA for Paris on the same date - after all, tickets are cheaper then. It's my reinvention of a bad day into something good, some change.

Cinque Terre was great. It wasn't the pilgrimage I thought it would be, but it brought me closer to my good friend. It was a lot drier this time around so we weren't slipping on rocks the whole hike. The pasta was excellent, the seafood fresh, the sun boiling, the exercise cathartic.

Since I got back to Geneve, have been working on photos, working on the conference I'm planning for the students of my school and 4 other schools that will happen in November. (How oh how did I rope myself into this one?) Also, caught all the DNC and RNC action online. Interesting differences. I'm scared, I'm hopeful, I have no idea what's going on. It feels strange not to be participating in another one of the most important historic events of my country. Strange, but relieving. I don't envy my past co-workers who are working so hard for this election. I'm slightly disillusioned, but yet inspired still by Obama. I can't imagine what the campaign trail does to a person, but I hope everyone is taking their vitamins. (Especially after the news clips of Hilary talking about eating pizza all the time.)

.....
9/11/08

It's always strange to see an empty room without the hope and excitement of filling it. I can't wait to arrive in Paris, although I'm not looking forward to the miles of up/down stairs with my backpack and suitcase. They need to invent elevators. Seriously, I still wonder what physically-challenged people do to get around. And, then, I'll have the long climb of 101 stairs to my apartment. I'll go up, unload the backpack, go down, separate out the suitcase and go up with both. Then, I will pass out. No, then, I will make the bed, check the apartment, get food, get wine, and slowly unpack to fill an empty room with future.

Last night, the flatmate and I had a wonderful meal, drank really great wine, and read tarot cards again. It's quite interesting this pagan ritual. Interpretation can play a major part, but I never, not once, picked up the "fool" card. In fact, it seemed as if my fingers were blessed to pick out only cards with strength, communication, warmth, internal power, and victory. I'm excited about this next year of school, and I can't wait to see what happens afterwards.

Well, see you all back in Paris! Oui, oui, Paris.

Ciao, Geneve!

The roar from afar that is Euro Cup

It is 85F in Geneva. The sun has turned me a golden brown and I'm no longer burning red under it. Although at the top floor of the old building I feel hot and the breeze is not enough. It is summer...!!

Well, finished the last weeks of May in a blur and a half-assed happiness. Given more time, I would have done better in everything. Now, I just hope I passed. Grades are available this week, but they're not mailing them out. I just so happen to have to go back for a business meeting (about the Global Public Policy Network Student Conference this fall) this coming Fri-Mon so hopefully I can end the awful suspense and receive full confirmation that I did, indeed, suck this past semester. I realize now why my prof from first semester said my paper could be publishable. I spent so much more effort inside that theme and on paper. Second semester there just wasn't adequate time to delve into each subject.

Sigh.

The last three weeks were littered with days like this: Econ 1b class, 1st year meeting (review), Amartya Sen, Matt in town, dinner with Cuba group. Or, Bridget visit, Global paper due, Econ exam review, GPPN meeting with Anand, Conflict Management paper review meeting, dinner with Bridget. Now, my ex-co-workers will confirm that I thrived in our schizophrenic days where one minute it was a volunteer training, a lobby visit, hiring interns, tracking legislation, health care meetings. But this year has felt more schizo and more multi-tasked than I felt before. And many of my friends left without announcement, possibly never to be seen again - off to summer internships and then another school in our dual-degree program next fall. My heart felt torn and my mind wiped out.

So, work happened and my mind moved and friends came. Matt and I had baguette lunch with his traveling friend, Bart, down by the Seine where it was less windy and a bit more sunny. Bridget came and, after 15 years, it only took us 20 minutes to settle back intohttp://www.blogger.com/img/gl.link.gif each other as friends. We let ourselves sleep late and do our own thing during the day. She visited Rimbaud and I spent quick hours at school. We met for dinner and laughed over the über American tourists. And when I was free all day on Saturday, we went through and around and into Paris. The back way to the Sacre Coeur (thank you, Josh and Sarah!), such a perfect day, into the Museum of Montmartre to see the history of absinthe but to leave wondering where to find it.

[The giant roars as Spain kills 3 goals in 5 minutes... sorry make that Spain 4 and Italy 2 .. in the last 7 minutes - good lord!]

Up the back way to the Sacre, around its outside, through a lovely garden, down a side street into the rain and scamper under the cover of an awning of a little bistro. The nicest bartender ever. I'll go back for a salad and beer sometime soon. The corner of Rue Custine, Rue Labat, and Rue Ramey.

We left after a few hours and beers (me, drinking beer in the middle of the day, in the middle of finals prep - I felt giddy and heady and ooo what fun!) and meandered through the street to all of a sudden end up in African market land. Literally, turned a corner and there were glorious bodies of shimmering fabric, hands full of sacks of groceries, children tottling before or after, the smell of chicken roasting, saffron. Bridget is more comfortable than I am, after confronting her shyness of African women (I told her I thought that it was perhaps that they carry such mystery and magic, power and essence within layers of beautiful robes; she told me that they do have the power - they do the accounting, they portion out the shares, they labor in the field but they have the purse strings). She leads me into the fabric stores to show me the multitude of designs and colors from floor to ceiling stacked high. And then, we go on a walk through the Rue de la Goutte d'Or and then to find a bathroom.

Bridget tells it better than I have:

########

"vote football (a story)"

walking through a beautiful arab and african quarter of paris, we were
in search of a bathroom - fast. past bakeries and mosques we could not
be deterred because that's how bad lauren had to go. little old men
sitting on stools in front of big city old doors. selling something or
maybe just passing the time like in the old country. kids holding
dad's hand as they strolled the narrow walkways. elegant fabrics
sneakily pouring out of the tops of storefront doorways. we walked on
in a general direction toward something on the horizon. a field of
train tracks below gave way to a space in the skeye that told us which
direction to follow to gare de l'est.

the skeyes was dimming and it wasn't looking good for umbrellaless
urban-explorers. finally we reached a choice in the path where the
decision was immediately obvious. continue down the narrow street or
take a set of steps down to a mini-courtyard that seemed to be
bouncing around a soccer ball. we took the steps and when we arrived
at the bottom, a group of young boys ignored us very well. we were in
the way of their soccer game but they weren't going to make it
obvious. they were copying some of the best moves that they saw from
their favorite footballers on t.v. and seemed to be in a hypnotic
state about it. two white ladies in search of a bathroom could not
compare to the obstacle that their defense offered them.

until... until, i without thinking ran up to them deciding i wanted to
play too. i guess i was feeling 10 years old and didn't think of
obstacles either. but when i approached the kid with the ball, his
eyes got big, he retreated from the ball and shrank in physical size
to an image i could barely see. i realized right away what happened.
being young black immigrant african boys in a mostly white parisian
culture didn't leave a lot of room for safety. they were protecting
themselves EVEN if they had to leave their probably most prized
possession behind: their soccer ball. they were ready to run from ME!
a weird white lady and leave their game - their dream...

it felt like crap. i felt like crap. such a huge worldly pain, regret,
and guilt crept over me and i too cowered away in the opposite
direction.
trying to reconcile embarrassment, racism, pain, oppression, and all
of the embedded junk that goes with it, i got lost in my head feeling
really weird and uncomfortable. lauren still had to go to the
bathroom. but she watched the whole thing happen. and by the time i
got within whispering distance to her, all i could say was: 'those
kind of experiences are important to have to.' she replied with the
obvious, that they thought i was going to beat them up or take their
ball or something like that - i don't remember exactly. but then she
said the most memorable, 'that's why you have to try again.' i think i
said 'WHAT?' still recovering and imagined being in recovery mode for
a few days or weeks... she said 'you have to try again' and
simultaneously realized that the public library just across the street
probably had a bathroom. she began to disappear in that direction as i
mulled over her comment.

hmmm. what the heck. so i went back to the game and gently, in my
nicest french, quietly asked them if i could play. they stared and me
and were of course weirded out. who is this lady? and what does she
want? i couldn't have answered the question either, so i am glad that
it was their eyes and not their mouths that asked me. they were
hesitant, but finally the leader put me in the least desirable
position on the court yard bumpy rocky 'field' that was starting to
get quite slippery from the french drizzle. i became their goalie.
which freed them to show off their best footwork even on pavement that
may as well have been ice.

with my back to the steps, i was guarding a space between a railing
and a wall. it was too big for the number of amazingly dexterous kids
running at me in the rain, but i didn't complain. i just strapped my
backpack on tight. pushed up my sleeves, and awaited the plummeting of
goals over my head, through my legs, under my arms, and too far for my
slippery reach in both directions.

eventually they started calling me madame and told me to take my
backpack off so i could be more comfortable. a few smiles started to
creep up on their pro-footballer faces and a few times their was as
much laughter falling as their was rain. we were lucky to be semi
under cover and only the ground was really getting wet - which i
repeat was NOT easy to maneuver. it felt like a game of broom ball on
the frozen over baseball field of a mid-western town. with just a
soccer ball and a bunch of friends these kids knew how to have fun
despite their surroundings. they found a field half the size of a
tennis court with buildings on two sides, steps on one, and a street
on the other. it was clear they had been playing there for awhile.
because they knew with exactly how much force they had to kick the
ball in order to pass it to a distant teammate but not kick it as far
as the street. i was the only one who ever kicked it into the street.
big faux pas. big eyes.

i have to say, i did make a few saves and got quite sweaty in the
short time that i played, but for the most part it was evident that
these boys were the football heroes, and i was not.

lauren came back at some point, but i didn't notice her for quite some
time - being so immersed in my game. when i did look up she was
smirk-smiling from behind her camera. on a high note i left the game
and joined her, watching from the sidelines. she said after she went
to the bathroom, she had a chance to vote in the library. the question
was: should immigrants be allowed to vote in local elections? an
interesting juxtaposition of experiences... it sure would be nice if
the parents of these kids could have a voice in the decision making of
their community. i can just see these boys as professional footballer
casting their ballots ten years from now.


#########


The photos are in progress. I'm right now working on the ones from my friends the Family Sarnowski visit back in the end of April. Yes, that far behind. But... now I have time, my friends!!

**this was finished on 23 June - I'm not ready to talk about the internship yet, but today was a good day at the United Nations.**

finished, fini, finito, f grad school

Did anyone else want to cry pounds of saltwater out of their tear ducts when they did the last spell check on the last paper that felt like the last ounce of energy in their body?

Well, there's no time to stop now.

My sister comes to town tomorrow at 8am (I desperately need 1 day to sleep all day!!!). We hug and then run down to my school so I can print the final copy and email the final to the prof. I pay the landlord rent - if he's lucky. We find me my own guide book to Northern Italy. We buy a few needed items since I've had no time to run errands. We drink at least 2 bottles of cheap French wine in celebration of me finishing my first year of grad school without tearing out all of my hair -- although I have noticed I'm shedding more than I ever did before in my life. We cruise the Venice Marco Polo rental car agencies online, pick one (she's such a smart girl and got the international driving license before she left the US - me? I was thinking I could just walk in and show them my badass driving skills.... seriously, I was neck-deep in the Fed).

Then, Tuesday we hop an Easy Jet to Venice, get a car and head for the west. It's so unplanned right now and I'm not freaking out at all about that. In fact, I could care less what happens to us over there. If we could just find a little room in a little town with a bunch of good olives and good wine and cute Italian people, I'll be happy. I'm revisiting college days and only packing a small bag. I am hoping for a Sofia Loren moment in a sundress and handbag overlooking some nice windy, tiny town where small boys chase balls in the street and the men lean out windows to whistle. .. Or, again, just a room and some wine.

I totally think I bombed the last two papers I wrote and frankly, senioritis has me so bad right now that I can't care too badly. But then I remember my high standards of late and think maybe it's not so bad. And that really each paper I write could turn into a PhD if given enough time. I reviewed my Ethiopia-Eritrea paper with the prof, which almost sent me into fits. He highlighted like every other line and was really way too interested in my paper than I thought it warranted. He asked for a few clarifications that made me panic. I mean, frankly, I write a paper, turn it in and forget it just to move on to the next thing. How am I supposed to remember what I meant by the negotiations already being biased based on the fact that the Ethiopians were requested to move back to their territory prior to the 1987 conflict? (Hmmm I guess I do remember - it meant that the unmarked border was in essence falling to the benefit of the Ethiopians as the border wasn't theirs to determine necessarily. Having international orgs determine this line inflamed Eritrea and cast a shadow of favoritism over the whole negotiation. ... hmm.. Yeah, I did love that paper.)

Anyway. Other than that paper, I'm clueless on any grades and I don't care. Grad school isn't really about grades. It's more about effort and comprehension. And I like that. And I also like that it's over for now.

So, sister and I and Italy. Venice, Florence, Cinque Terre, Venice, back to Paris. We'll have a half-day here and then the graduation of the 2nd years - my last real time to see them and see a bunch of my own cohorts. So bizarre the ending to this year. There wasn't a single event of closure at all. No big bang. No big fiesta or fete or frankenweiner. All of a sudden, we were all in a panic to finish papers in the last 3 weeks and then people just kind of peeled off. I happened to be there at the time when one of my friends was leaving to go finish packing to return to Canada the next day and then go off to LSE or Columbia for the next year. Kind of suffering separation anxiety, and kind of totally excited to know I have some amazing friends all over the world again.

Bittersweet this.

On another front, I'm kind of seeing someone. Man, I haven't even told my in-person friends about this really. But I guess I can tell the whole anonymous world (I'm pretending my family doesn't read this right now). He's French, and kind of very French. He's a bit more romantic than my pragmatic American senses, but there's mutual respect for these differences. Last night he had me over for an apertif to meet a ton of his friends and then to this super kickass monthly event at Telebocal. An independent TV/film production group. It seemed very punk rock, DIY, hippie, original. The gist is that they film events, do on-street interviews and then have a showing of their work monthly. A lot of interns from local universities and young people. I laughed so hard - and actually laughed at the right places and actually understood a lot of the low-brow humor. Got to meet more new French friends. And then got to dance my booty off! The end band was this amazing alternative, mod, punk rock precussion ensemble with a room full of drum sets and musicians in sunglasses playing plastic kid's toys. It was fantastic. So, yes, while I'm moaning about the work load, I am getting out and enjoying the sunlight and night events.

So, one of the interesting things about last night was the amount of times I got up from the couch. Right, sounds like nothing unusual. But literally, every person who comes in greets every person already there. So, every time someone arrived we'd get up from the deep-seated couch and kiss right-left cheek and sneak in our name as intro and then "enchante," which I love because it's so fairy-tale. But, man, what a ritual. I remember Argentina having the right-cheek kiss at intros, but did they have it at departures? And was it so formal that at a party everyone would get up and do the rounds? And who invented cheek-kissing anyway? And who determines how many in which country? Santa? The Queen?

Yes. Well. So there's Paris, then Italy, then Paris for about a week during which I scrub and pack and lock-down and prepare for the Brit subletters and take off to Geneva. Then, there's like, dude, real working. Or, fake real working - I think the motto will be make the most of it and make your own adventure. I don't think I'll be fetching coffee, but since all the interns were in relaxed gear, I'm doubtful I'll be entrusted with the secret documents about the new statistics out from Russia on the growth of their economy. (Not that that's a secret anyway.) I know the point is more to network and meet other interesting people at other interesting organizations in hopes of making some lasting impression so I get a job in the future and pay off my family loans and the Chinese.

But yes, as AA says, one day at a time. And for now, it's 3 minutes into the day my sister arrives and I should go get some sleep. Yeah.. in college when I finished a year it was all about the party, now it's grad school and all about the sleep. Heh.

Bisous.

Paris on quick takes between surviving grad school

My great friend Bridget came to visit last week, right in the middle of paper-writing hell. I am, of course, again, right in the middle of paper-writing hell. But she was kind enough and smart enough and loves Paris enough to tour around on her own during the days while I had meetings or last classes or finished my 10-pager on Globalization (actually ended up being 16 without the bibliography). Then, I put things down and got my groove on. We had such a fantastic time. Walked for hours and then hours more. I'll detail more later. ... of course, this post is not about Paris because when I am in Paris I have no time to write posts, but when I am in paper hell I make time to procrastinate and write posts about this.

I hope this will all change a) between my trip to Italy with my bad ass sister and taking off to Geneva in June and b) when I'm in Geneva trying to find the cheapest cheap things to do. Then, I will write like mad and maybe get a book out yet.

Anyway. Right now, I have hated the U.S.-Colombia Trade Agreement, hated Cuba AGAIN since we had to turn our awesome powerpoint into a paper, and now am hating everything about the The Fed and why it is been given more oversight and why the SEC and CFTC will be merged. [Debating which question will be answered: What has been the effect of the subprime crisis on the principal-agent relationship between the US government, the Federal Reserve System, the U.S. Securities and Exchange Commission (SEC), and the Commodity Futures Trading Commission (CFTC). --OR-- How did the existing delegation arrangements among the U.S. government and the independent regulatory agencies, specifically The Fed, the SEC, and CFTC, affect the responses to the subprime crisis? Why did the arrangements create that response?] Also, I am hating graphs and equations and word problems - all on my final exam in Microecon tomorrow.

So, anyway... This is a nice break and good to know:

"Surviving the first year: a positive attitude, strong commitment, and lots of coffee." Although it comes from "How to survive your first year of graduate school
in economics" by Matthew Pearson it's appropriate for any grad school degree. Wonderful things like:

--No matter what you like about economics, I can guarantee that you will spend a fair bit of time your first year studying material that you do not like. Statements like, “this is not what I came here to study,” or, “this is not why I like economics,” or even, “this stuff is not economics at all,” are heard from time to time.

--It is quite common to feel like you are the only one not understanding the material, even when your colleagues impress upon you that their difficulties are significant as well. If you are struggling with feelings that you are an impostor, that you do not deserve or are not prepared enough to be here, remember that the admissions process
works, and you are here for a reason. .... Often these feelings come from fear of success as much as fear of failure.

--Wanting to give up: This is so common that it is often a running joke among
first-years. Resist these feelings. You have to want the Ph.D. more than life itself,
and willing to nearly kill yourself to get it. The first year is about learning that
survival is not all about intelligence, nor passion, but commitment. Unless you’re
Goedel or something, then of course, this’ll seem like math for idiots. But if
you’re a mere mortal from the humanities, you’re going to end up like those kids
on Real Genius screaming and going nuts. Watch Real Genius, actually. That
movie is, emotionally, kind of the right movie that you may relate to.


This is where I stopped and wanted to buy and watch Real Genius. I remember loving this film as a kid. Not even for the fact that Val Kilmer was the hot kid on campus who didn't care about studying. But because I could relate somehow, with only being in 6th grade. It was the idea that LIFE in general could be so high pressured that people would run down the hall screaming, that one had to balance this with a sense of humor and a bit of strangeness. Granted, my life at age 12 wasn't so high stressed, but I could tell I was supposed to internalize this for my future sanity. It was hilarious and mysterious and funny and liberating. And of course, there was a good guy who beat the bad guy and got the girl - "American optimism," my Microecon prof called it recently.

Speaking of, enough procrastinating. Back to the numbers and graphs and blah blah.

I'll be done with the final exam tomorrow and will write my heart out on the Fed paper. A few Madison friends come to town on Thursday, including an ex-colleague Jennie, an ex-boyfriend Paul and his girlfriend Melissa. They've been relaxing in the south of France so I'm excited to hear their stories. I hope to be totally done with this paper by next Sunday AT THE LATEST. Monday at 7am my sister arrives in Paris. Tuesday we fly to Venice, rent a car and tool over to Cinque Terre, Florence, and whatever strikes our fancy. Then, I fly back, attend the 2nd years graduation ceremony, with the President of Brazil as the key speaker. Hang out and sleep for a week and then pack a bag and move over to Geneva for 2.5 months. ... Man, where has the time gone!?!?!?

.. Ok, now I really mean it. Enough procrastinating...

Look inside my grocery bag

We're an incredibly dumbed-down country, the USA.

The issue is serious, but it's hilarious when US Under Secretary for Commerce, Chris Padilla does Free Trade Agreements for Dummies. Take a look here.

Addendum: It's not as easy as he makes it look. There are many more factors involved in the consideration of the US-Colombia Agreement. And, no, by "dummies" I don't mean Democrats or Hilary or Obama. Wait to read my paper, thank you. (Due to the prof this Friday at noon - not sure when we get it back.)

What have I done and who do I thank

1) Thank the Chinese.
Global Imbalance:
My dad wrote, "Is this at all good news???" First, it's strange, delightful, and very cool that my dad is asking me questions. He's always known more than me - and he will always know more about all things scientific or mathematical, and probably financial - so for him to ask me about something makes me very proud. (Not that he's never asked, mind you. I'm also very lucky to have parents who teach me and simultaneously acknowledge that they've learned from me.) Anyway. After a month of reading and many, many, many group meetings I think I have some substantial input on this question. Granted, if I wanted to have real input I'd have to go for a PhD in econ.

Here's what I wrote back:
"Good and bad. ... you're 1 day late on this link though - I gave my presentation y'day. ;) We've got a shared docs folder for each of our class presentations so I've saved this article there. Thanks for sharing!

It's a very long explanation which I'm going to attempt to write about on the blog. Essentially the USD needs to depreciate because of the drastic global imbalance between US and several other surplus countries (esp China - hence our push that they appreciate the Yuan and have better, more flexible money market), but this depreciation will hurt us adn the world because of a catch 22: USD is world currency and the most invested market. So, our $ goes down, our exports go up (we make money for our "store" called USA), our consumption goes down (we can't buy as much with our weak dollar), China's imports to us go down, we shrink our deficit, they shrink their surplus. But this also means that stocks, Treasury bills (that the chinese purchase with money from selling their exports to us) lose value which means their investment starts to mean less, which means people will move their money to another market - Euro? This means, we lose jobs in the US, lose production, lose the reign of world currency. And that's only a small portion of it. A lot of our deficit is owed to oil imports because it's an inelastic good - the price might go up but our consumption remains the same. Also, China's culture of saving (leftover from the Asian crisis & history of instability) means they won't consume our products as much = they aren't spending down their huge surplus. Also, our culture of spending/consuming since the Great Depression. We were starting to save as a country between 40s-80's but then hit the tech boom/production boom/investment boom and started spending more than saving, relying on credit more (I factor in here!). Who's carrying our credit addiction? The Chinese, the Asians, the oil barrons. And the great fear is that at some point our market is going to tank from partying hard for so long. When that happens it could be disastrous to the world who has invested in our markets - domino effect. So, we need to devalue the dollar a bit, we need to save more (yes yes what you've been saying ALL my life; Addendum: "You Can't Take It With You"), the gov't needs to tax us more, it needs to stop spending so much (twin deficits = foreign trade & budget!), we need to tighten our belts. And those countries who've been gluttonous in saving need to go on a shopping spree a bit.

So... i can write that now after about a month of reading and group meetings. i'm going to tally up my hours spent on this subject because it's insane how much i read just to understand global imbalance, current account balances in general and then to understand the US's position on how to address it. Man! the group meetings were interesting, too. 2 Indians, 1 Iranian, 1 USA, 1 China. Very interesting interactions, dynamics and learning."

[No additional editing has been done to the above. I'm sure it needs some but I've moved on from global imbalances. If you have questions, please feel free to direct them to me.]

1a) My memo to Shell in 1995 concerning their options in addressing a possible crisis in Nigeria.

1b) In our Scenario Planning class, we look at the future of Cuba. You can view our slide presentation here. (Guess who did the layout? Photos are from a million people/places all over the 'net. Hope I don't get sued. If you have the Mambo Kings album, the sound might work for you, as well. Or, just imagine "Guantanamera" for the first 4 slides. "Yo soy un hombre sincero / De donde crecen las palmas / Yo soy un hombre sincero / De donde crecen las palmas / Y antes de morirme quiero / Echar mis versos del alma / Chorus: Guantanamera / Guajira Guantanamera)

1c) An interesting article on the Sciences Po MPA in Le Monde (French) here. Quoted are two of my classmates, Sean who is West Point grad and retired early after being in Iraq for a while, and Preeti who is a lawyer from India.

2) My trip to Geneva was awesome. Ditched out of class a bit early to make it to Gare de Lyon. Of course, the metro all of a sudden had problems at Concorde, which sent a bit of panic through me. But thanks to my years of second-hand military training, I had given myself enough time in case of emergency. Luckily, the problem was fixed and we carried on to the station. At GDL I got my e-ticket from the machine and eying the long line at the Info booth, asked a woman if she knew where I'd get the TGV schedule to Geneva. Another testimony to the incorrect assumption that French are rude or unhelpful, she pointed out the big board in front of my face (without ridicule) and said that 20 minutes before departure, the gate would be available but that they either left from this large platform or another one across the way. Twenty minutes is not a lot of time between realization and finding one's seat, ahem. Thankfully, my train left from the main platform.

Sat next to a guy reading "Sur la Route." Yes, exactly, "On the Road" by Kerouac. Very good sign for me. I started to do some reading in preparation for the up-coming group presentation on Global Imbalances (see above, or see this PPT here; appendix is here). But then, the guy sitting next to me asked if I worked in Geneva and we began a really nice conversation. He works in GIS mapping and spoke s much English as I do of French. I learned that what I thought was mustard between London and Paris on the Eurostar is actually colza (used as an oil or biodiesel).

The older woman sitting across the aisle from us also chatted me up after my seat companion debarked. She's the wife of a retired career UN guy, with an apartment a few blocks away from me in Montmartre. She gave me her number in case I ever needed anything in Geneva. Totally nice.

Got to town. Bought a croissant in the train station just to absorb everything. I had time and it was still daylight and was drizzling a bit. Located the automatic bus fare machines and found #5 easily to head off to Home Saint Pierre, the Lutheran hostel for girls and women. (Normally I don't gravitate to sex-separation for my activities or accommodations, but this was the cheapest and most available at 28chf, which is roughly $1=1chf.) I thought Paris was pretty international - although I tend to hear more French, English, Russian, German, and then other Nordic languages and then other EU languages - but Geneva, of course, in its internationalism, I hear more of everything and then more of languages I've never heard before. I felt at home in this soupy mix.

I got off the bus at Place Neuve where men were playing giant chess in the drizzle. This is the old town of Geneva, all the way up the hill. Cobblestones like Paris. Old walls, old façades. I got a bit lost and asked a Latino-looking guy if he knew where the church St Pierre would be. He didn't, but answered me very nicely in French. I called the hostel and the very German sounding woman told me how to get there. I took a left and down stairs instead of a straight and right. Anyway. Found the place, checked in (her warmth left a little to be desired but I'm not young, nor am I afraid of new places), and went over to the dormitory for my bed. It feels a bit more lonely to have just a bed, like it's barracks or something. But I chatted up the young women there and discovered that one of them was from Paris, Sciences Po doing research for her thesis.

Went off to look for dinner possibilities and ran into the Latino (Peruvian) guy from before. He and I exchanged emails and he pointed me to a nearby Italian restaurant, at which I was served yummy pizza and Swiss wine (not as yummy) by a Portuguese server who spoke Spanish, English, French, and Portugal Portuguese (she slightly scoffed clarification when I asked if it was Brazil or Portugal). Got to bed rather early and got up rather early. After all, I was going to the HOLY %&$# United Nations!!!!

Check-out was at 10am so I packed everything and took the 7chf breakfast at the hostel, left the luggage, hiked down the hill, found the same #5 bus, passed the train station, passed UN Concil on Human Rights (wow), stopped at the official Palais des Nations entrance (where the photos of all the flags lined up are taken), hiked quickly up the hill to the other entrance. Through x-ray check and to security to check-in. Some kind of delay with checking and emails and if they knew before and had he sent the notice. Meanwhile, this nice woman who kind of helped me know I was in the right line at the right entrance was rolling her eyes and being a bit too overly critical and impatient of the process for my liking. But my future boss came down to meet me, I got the ugly photo pass (worse than a driver's license), and he walked me over to the UNECE and our floor.

He gave me the grand tour and by that I mean I got to meet the woman with whom I'd be working quite a bit, as well as the chief of the department. I'm walking a fine line in my blog between what I can/should share and what I know would be inappropriate. So, nah nah boo boo you don't get all the insider scoop on the UN. Suffice it to say the building still reflects the time period when it was built and offices are rather bare, bland, and unlively. Of course, consider also the amount of official business that is conducted in each and I guess one can't have a big dart board next to one's desk.

I met with the intern coordinator, who happens to be from Minnesota and graduate of University of Wisconsin. And then met all the interns who were around at the time. Very nice folks all of them. Very comfortable and very funny. Me, dressed in my nice suit pants, kitten heels, blue blouse, and pearls all thinking, oo the UN better dress nicely. The interns, all dressed in jeans and tee-shirt or definitely summer wear. They told me it usually took an intern an average of a week to ditch the business wear for the casuals. I think I'd like to keep a step up on the jeans wear though - just because of my age, my interests in future jobs, and to be kind of in the 'real world' despite my laziness and love of everything comfortable and easy.

The interns are, of course, from all over the world but most seem to be hailing from Europe and then more concentrated in the Eastern block. The unique thing about the UNECE is its focus on Russia and the Eastern countries to I guess that's why the predominance of interns from those regions - translation is a big activity for them. Interns from all departments are located in this area on the Stats Division floor since I guess they have the most empty offices. I sat with and talked to a young woman from Germany who works in the Environmental Policy division. Just so happened she mentioned that she had a great roommate in the old part of town and that she'd be ending her internship in May and leaving and maybe I'd be interested in talking to her roommate about the flat. She warned me that the place wasn't new and had a 5th floor walk up (ha! mine in Paris is 6) and the roommate is creative and so is the place. It sounded perfect to me as she described it. Just so happened the roommate was free at 3pm to meet me.

Next, I sat with the social coordinator intern, from Latvia. She'd been at the UNECE for a while and was coordinating outings, happy hours, etc for all the interns to bond.

I went back to my future boss as it was noon, and we headed to the cafeteria of the world.


..... it's bedtime for me now.. I'll finish this tomorrow. School's kind of winding down. May means 3 papers, a French exam, an Econ exam and then also visits from friends all over the world. The weather has been amazing here lately, with highs in the upper 70s and a lovely breeze. The metro is starting to feel heavy in air so I'm preferring the bus. Pants are folded for shorts and skirts. Skin can breathe again. Parisians seem happier. I'm super excited for this month but also a bit wary of how to balance it all. C'est la vie.

Oh, and if you're interested in hopping on the export/import train, my birthday's the 13th. There are two links upper right side that point to fun things on Amazon that I like. I'd be happy to ship you anything you request from Europe.

No, I've not gone unconscious

But this semester is big 'n busy.

Paris has suddenly warmed from the 50s to 70s over the past 4 days. I broke out the skirts and shorts and my white skin is blinding people all over town.

I worked 7 hours yesterday with my International Econ group on "Global Imbalances" which scholars have written 100-page analysis on. We've got 35 slides. My section is on the US - I've seen 50-page papers on it; my slides are 7. Essentially, it's a US twin deficit (budget and current account) to a group of world surpluses, especially China. The US needs to stop needing needing wanting wanting, and start saving. China needs to start buying, spending some hard earned cashola. But there are other factors, of course. Interesting though, my group represents China, India, Iran, and the US. There is hope for the world yet, people. I gotta tell you though, with the $ being the world's financial currency and us owing a lot of big boys on the block, the subprime crisis doesn't make anyone feel very secure.

Today, I'm off to the massive student housing area called Cite Universite. Another 6 hour group meeting. This one features the US, Canada, and China wondering what the future of Cuba could be.

Tomorrow, I'm off to Geneva in the afternoon. I'm taking the train and am super excited to see some landscape. The first half of Tuesday I'll be at the UNECE doing the tour, meeting the folks, sitting in on a meeting, getting a feel for the place. This isn't necessary for the internship and I already had dinner with my future boss while he was in town for a conference. And frankly my schedule right now can't really take the quick trip, but I'm interested in seeing Geneva before I head off in June. It might also give me an opportunity to check out housing better. It's hell via the internet so far. Tuesday night I train it back to Paris. Wednesday I give my meager understanding of the US deficit and hope I look confident enough to fool everyone. Thursday is a holiday here, during which I will sleep, and not plan anything else.

I was here a year ago with my sister, checking out a school in London and Paris. I totally made the right decision. When a couple of friends were in town last weekend, we coincidentally had lunch at a cafe over by the Louvre where my sister and I had a coffee. It's funny, through visiting my friends, I ended up in almost every spot where my sister and I had been during our visit a year ago. I think that's fate/gods/karma/good juju letting me know everything's on track. I am doing what I'm supposed to do. This is where I should be.

So, maybe I'm more conscious than ever right now.

Always been a B student

Well, grades are in. This means that I now feel confident enough to share with you some of my work this past semester.

A bit of translation, which isn't encouraging in my mind.
No one gets an A+
No one should get a B-

A = Outstanding, 4.0
A- = Excellent 3.7
B+ = Very good 3.3
B = Good 3.0
B- = Pass, but with some unsatisfactory elements 2.7
the rest we won't go into, although it does continue to F.

Situating Ourselves in Complex Settings: A-
Stats: A
Governance State Restructring and Policy Change: A
MicroEcon: B+
Global Governance: Regulation, Adjudication, Dispute Settlement: A-
Managing Innovation in the Globalizing Learning Economy: B+
Total: A-

French, well, French is an optional course and of course, I'm treating it a bit as such -- how does a teacher grade my incredible skills in the ordering of "Les Petits Farçis Du Moment Au Coulis De Persil" or the frequent times I'm asked for (and give) directions or my perfect accent when cursing? Anyway, I got a B.

I'd say the above evaluations are pretty accurate to how I felt about the courses and how much I actually gave in effort. Although, Stats and Micro. Totally should have failed those in my opinion, but then again one can't take a test on "how much knowledge has increased from zero to now?" Although that's what exams and papers are supposed to do, they can't really do that very well for such a steep curve. Or, perhaps the grades above reflect that. I don't know.

I'm really not a very verbal person in large, professional groups so I'm sure I was deducted for low class participation. That's changed a little bit this semester. I figure that if the Asians are asking questions (who are known for traditionally not speaking out in class - it's seen as disrespectful to the professor), I should, too.

Had my one-on-one meeting with the professor for State Restructuring. Remember the paper on prostitution policies of the Netherlands and Sweden? (Aside: the Netherlands is called the Pays-Bas in French - literally the County Below : Nether Lands. Very cool.) Well, I was one of the top 3 papers of our class. Woot woot!

Finally! I needed so badly to be graded and critiqued. Hahahah... No. Really. This was the first time writing papers in over 10 years. Two of the classes involved group work, which is impossible to get actual individual analysis. And my paper for Global Governance "The Global Response to Cybercrime: Standards, Negotiation, National Procedures, and Global Security" got a one-liner of feedback along the lines of "Good work but you related it too much to only the Convention." (Secretly, looking back, I was not thrilled with this paper at all. The intro is HORRIBLE!)

But the prostitution paper, which I really got into while researching and writing it, got good marks from the professor and he recommended I publish it in a journal. Hence, you will not be reading it online yet as I'm sure there are some copyright conflicts on that. The 3 of us who were encouraged to publish will be meeting together to see how we can work with the administration to achieve this. Seriously, with the workload I've got right now there's just no way to do it 'on the side.'

My colleague, Gerrit, published our innovation paper. Sadly, this does not incorporate your individual responses to our survey. In the time allotted we were able to focus only on our colleagues at the other schools within our Global Public Policy Network (Columbia U, LSE, Hertie, LKY, Sciences Po). You can check out the final product here (minus the graphs in our survey results, which you don't care about anyway because I wrote the theoretical framework). Alternatively, you can go over to Gerrit's personal website and download the whole thing - and see my fab pal, too!

You can also check out "The Global Response to Cybercrime" paper here

So, on to bigger and better things!

Papers, papiers, travaille

It's busy right now.
3,000 word paper due Monday for Governing by Delegation and I picked "Why have politicians throughout the world chosen to create independent regulatory agencies?" Why can't I just summarize: enhancing the credible commitments of policy makers (notably towards investors who seek long-term policies), dealing with increased technical complexity in policy-making, shifting blame for unpopular decisions, isomorphism, political uncertainty, state tradition, political leadership, and the introduction of new public management. And then be done! Alas, school - as I'd forgotten - is about proving that you've listened to the professor instead of updated your Facebook page every 10 minutes.

Microecon homework on equity standards and intergovernmental grant applications.

French - write a 1-page essay on something that happened last year (to show off that we learned past tenses): Sarkozy as president and not supporting the idea of Turkey as joining the EU.

Why do I challenge myself? Why not just write short and simple essays. Pick the easy work. Sigh.

Then, we move into Int'l Economics about the Mundell Fleming model and exchange rates -- flexible exchange rates and mobile capital (or their opposites). As well as a group project on global imbalances. Scenario Planning and looking at possible futures for Cuba. Conflict Management - might analyze the negotiations to end the civil unrest in Kenya (with Kofi Annan). But not sure. (If you have suggestions, pleas send my way!) Then, I'm starting a whole new class on Globalization this coming week. As if I don't have enough to do! Also, steadily pushing the planning for the fall Global Public Policy Network Student Conference, which will take place in Paris.

Still keeping an eye out for housing in Geneva for the internship at the UNECE this summer. Locked-in the dates folks, so I'm out of town 16 June to 8 September (just short of the 3 months deadline so I won't need a special visa). I'm meeting my future boss in Paris in a couple of weeks as he's here to do a conference at the OECD. (Who knew I'd be throwing these acronyms around like oh so casual conversation?)

Had a great visit with my pal Meghan and her boyfriend Mike from San Fran. Very low-key friends who ventured around on their own and then shared some time with me. We had an interesting couple of dinners and did a bit of the literary walk through the Latin Quarter (following Ginsberg, Hemingway, and the like), chilled at the Deux Magots, took a boat on the Seine, ate gelato for the first time, and got to know the St Michel district better. It was great to see them and hard to see them go. But oh, the new things in Paris I did!

Walked a bit around my neighborhood a couple of days ago and fell in love with Paris again. Just after the rain stopped, a stormy turbulent sky with bright blues behind the clouds, sun peeking out, streets shining, windows dripping, the warmer air. Delightful in Montmartre.

Also, joined my friends Wilfried and Sarah last weekend to march for prostitutes' rights. We thought Susie Bright might join us since she was in town but she missed the march due to delayed arrival to Paris. Bummer! But the march was absolutely excellent, and I thoroughly loved meeting the Les Soeurs de la Perpetuelle Indulgence (of which Sarah belongs - 4th woman aspirant to go through the process; San Francisco/English).

But now I'm hunkered down for the long haul. Daylight savings just turned over to 3am here. Got to get some sleep.

There are a lot more photos up on Flickr:
more India: Taj Mahal, Agra and Agra Fort, Delhi to Agra
and from 2007: visit with Josh, Cully & the Triumph in Minneapolis, sushi with my sister, Emily & Mike in Minneapolis, the family farm and grandma