It’s official! I’m done with Sciences Po. There is no longer a class or bureaucracy-related reason that I should ever set foot in the building again. This afternoon I went back one final time to turn in my pre-paid and self-addressed envelope that the Secretariat requires in order for us to receive our transcripts. I’m done! Of course, this new status receives jealous responses from my friends here, but even after a year of berating Sciences Po, I know I will miss a lot about the school. Maybe I won’t miss the lack of organization, strictly structured essays, or poor grading system, but I will miss the ancient building with its original elevators and the gymnase (café/lounge space) always filled with students. My time at Sciences Po pushed me farther then ever before and to share this experience with a few hundred equally-frustrated international students created a bond that few others can understand. Leaving will be surreal in the very least.

In between my last few classes, I’ve made efforts to get through the last few items on my check list. Evan (Canada), Evgenia (Russia) and I went to the Catacombes last week. If you’re claustrophobic, you’d hate this, but if not—it was awesome, and only a little creepy. The Catacombes is a series of underground tunnels originally used for mining during the 17th and 18th centuries. At the time of the French Revolution, the new government decided they wanted to clear out space around Paris’s churches and they exhumed and relocated all of the bones in cartfuls to the tunnels. They stacked the femurs on the bottom, the skulls in the middle and the arm bones on the top to form a wall all along the caves, throwing the other bones in heaps behind the wall and labeling each area with the name of the church that the bones were from. We got really lucky. We arrived at an off time—about 3:00 in the afternoon, and were let in for free… after wandering, obviously creeped out for 5 minutes, a security guard with a big flashlight adopted us and led us on a full tour of the caves, stopping to light up the piles in the back. There are 6 million bodies in the tunnels and some of the piles went back 60 meters. He even let us take pictures with a flash even though it was forbidden. It was great!

One of the cool things about Sciences Po is the traditional “diner de conference” (class dinner) at the end of the term. Last semester we went to a few restaurants and to a teacher’s penthouse in the 16th. This semester, we went to a few bars and had picnics… For my course in French on Innovation, we met at the Eiffel Tower and all were asked to bring a dish from our home country. Even though, the class was split: half international students and half French students, none of the French students came. I don’t know what this means and I’m not going to speculate anymore. I splurged and bought a 6 euro, 4oz jar of peanut butter at an American grocer in the Marais named “Thanksgiving” (go figure!). Paired with grape jam and sliced bread, it was surprisingly well-received and I didn’t feel so bad about the “no-cook” choice that represented my nation. Joanna, who studies at Yale, brought banana-bread… so represented the American contingent. Our professor for this course was incredible, and we all stayed until after midnight enjoying our hodge-podge of languages and cuisine.

My French language class decided to end with a walking tour instead of a dinner, which quickly turned into a visit to the French senate building (at the Jardin de Luxembourg) and after a flash of Sciences Po ID cards, attendance at a session where the Prime Minister was giving a speech. As cool as it was to be admitted in the middle of the speech (the sessions are open to the public but not usually to groups on such short notice), I will admit that fell asleep… multiple times… You’d think that after a year at a political science school, the Prime Minister’s presence would have intrigued me, but alas, I am a marketing major through and through.

Yesterday, Evan, Evgenia and I took another afternoon field trip to the Galleries Lafayette—but not to go shopping. Somehow I had passed the year, browsing the many floors at Gallery Lafayette, gawking at its window displays during Christmas, and never realized there was a rooftop terrace with one of the best (free) views of Paris. On a warm day, the terrace was full of people picnicking and sitting at the café enjoying the sun (and somewhat cleaner air!). We sat and talked about our year for a few hours. My nostalgia continued last night with another class picnic at the Pont des Arts. My Cross Cultural Management class (another phenomenal professor) was also split French/International, and again only the international students came. Again we stayed until after midnight, but this time it there were more sad faces at departure…

And so the week continues… each day, more people stressing about finals (beginning tomorrow) and talking about imminent departures. For most of us, this next weekend will be our last. With the end in sight, you’ll be happy to know that I have officially become Parisien, at least by definition of a book I read at the beginning of the year—yes, I finally, after 10 months of careful attention, finally took my eyes off of the sidewalk just long enough to step in dog poop. It was one of my prized memberships, in a club that little by little lost members through the year; I was one of the few left. My fault was that I let myself hope that I could leave with this status. Paris wouldn’t hear this naivety though, and with one week to go, I joined the masses scraping and rinsing in the puddles along the roads. I guess it was only fitting.

One week left… Isaac arrives on Wednesday. My apartment is barren and halfway through different stages of packing and cleaning. Weather.com has predicted the temperatures for all of my remaining time (sunny and beautiful…finally!), this can only mean that the end is near. Right now it all feels bittersweet and surreal. I don’t think it will actually hit until after I return. For now, plans have been made for last visits to pubs and favorite picnic spots… and final goodbyes.