Let the games begin

So here we go: First day of class at the Sorbonne! Well actually the very first class is not at the Sorbonne itself but at some outpost way up north. But “Nous sommes tous une grande famille.” - We all are one big family, as the guy doing the introductory class assured with a big grin that I'd place somewhere between an overly nice waiter, the Joker and just your regular pedophile. His mimics and gestures were “très français”, maybe a little too “français” to actually be “français”. Turns out his name is Ludwig – not all that “français” but quite “allemand.” Judging by his dark turtleneck and big glasses, he read a lot of Sartre, tried to become just like him, got sidetracked somewhere on the way, drifted towards Louis de Funes and just stuck with that.
But it looks like he's not the only one getting sidetracked. Back to the school:
The Philosophy department is in a very nice multicultural neighbourhood, a lot of fruit-shops and most importantly: There is a great Kebap place right across the street. I'm guessing the area would be even better if I spoke Arabic, but at least no one realizes my accent. They all have their own.
The building itself is something between futuristic and a construction site (perhaps that means it's very futuristic! - credits to Moustache Mike) It looks like it's going to be a really great place once they've finished it, long time after I'm gone. Timing really is everything.
On the bright side: Everything is labeled very clearly, so for the first time I found my room immediately, without looking like a complete retard.
The lecture itself was quite weird. Some guy was sitting upfront with a laptop and literally reading everything at such a slow speed that everybody can copy it. And everybody actually does! Why he didn't just print it out remains his secret, I suppose.
So that plus a little “Questions anybody?” at the end and that was basically the whole class. That last bit he actually managed to say without looking at his laptop. Ironically he was reading about Décartes telling you to doubt everything external authorities tell you and not just copy their opinions.

Reading this bit through, I just realized it's all very negative, which is really not fair to Paris, since I'm having a pretty great time here. Plus it's all about stuff that isn't even remotely interesting to anybody. In my defense: I'm writing this as I'm trying to stay awake on the train.
The next bit is gonna be interesting, inspired, positive and a fun read all together. I promise!

Greetings from the actually not all that sad, but really tired clown.