“I love my life” is one of our favorite sayings.
Haven’t posted anything of substance lately, not because nothing interesting has transpired. Rather, life here since P2 has grown even fuller and harder to extract oneself away from the continuous stream of excitement to chronicle individual tidbits of it. Accustomed to the environment, we’ve come to recognize which of the myriad of activities we enjoy most. The courses have become more interesting and intense. And the higher level of comfort among the INSEAD circle powers every party and gathering with more laughs and cheers.
The past two days win hands down the distinction of being my favorite back-to-back days of partying in France. Perhaps my hard work the past two weeks has sweetened these experiences, but that possibility diminishes to no degree any of my reward. It began Friday with dinner hosted by my groupmate at his home, the Minthouse in Boi-le-Roi, where we benefitted from our host’s pride in French culinary arts. If someone ever invites you over for freshly grilled magrets de canard, immediately clear your schedule and offer to bring the wine; to miss it would be a crime. Since most of the lucky guests were from our wonderful section, we skipped the introductions straight into the merry-making. But this was all just a pre-party. After satiating our hunger with the amazing cuisine, we left for the Oktoberfest party, in celebration of the”Heart of Europe” national week. Unlike the typical INSEAD party, this one stayed on theme. With everyone on the tables, we locked arms and knocked beer steins, while the imported Bavarian band entertained with fantastic, singable, and utterly cheesy songs. I can hardly imagine another moment at Fontainebleau with higher camaraderie where everyone fed of each other’s energy. My throat still hurts from singing, er, make that shouting “Hey Baby” throughout the night.
Greedy for more after the party dispersed, we trekked to La Plage, a local joint to get a necessary fix of dancing. The difference in attire between the locals and typical Parisians stuck out – double takes abound each time spotting someone sporting that oh-so-nostalgic 80’s fashion. No derision intended, after all, the locals of Melun kept the club rocking way past expectations. And most importantly, the music was contemporary and highly conducive for hardcore grooving. The only unanswered question of the night was how 11 of us got home in two cars.
At the Oktoberfest, one of the guys from our chateau, in half drunkenness, invited half of INSEAD to our place for dinner and partying on Saturday night. Thankfully most of the invitees were too drunk to remember. Still, we wanted to play host, and the nice folks from Le Viviers graciously accepted our invitation. Given all the fun from the previous evening, we planned a quiet, relaxing dinner. The dinner itself turned out exactly as planned. Little did we expect that afterwards, a small congregation of us chatting in the kitchen would lead into drinking games, and eventually a bonfire down at the Seine in the brisk autumn night. After the fire took life, we cajoled our resident opera singer to share his musical talents. He happily obliged, first with the INSEAD beer song he recently wrote, and then a piece from his past life, when he used to perform in Beauty andthe Beast. Among the cheers, one of our guests responded with a wildly creative piece of work – a Bangladeshi rap that incorporated the themes of INSEAD and our two houses. Finally, we all joined in with sing-alongs in6 different tongues over our cozy fire. And somehow in the midst of all this, the Dutch swimmer from Viviers stripped down nekked and took a swim in the river, without catching hypothermia, seriously. As we climbed the hill back to the chateau, our guests, ready to depart, made a sudden change of heart and decided to chill out a bit in our lounge upstairs. Ensued were thought provoking, though not necessarily intelligent or even intelligible, conversations that didn’t conclude until sunrise. While nobody expected this ahead of time, we knew better than to resist the beautiful flow of good times, driven by an energy that can only emanate from the right company, and perhaps the pattern of lunar tides on the Seine.
Alas, back to my afternoon, where I revert back to the pretense of a studious mode and attempt to wring any semblance of productivity out of this glorious weekend. Yet let it be said that I am grounded by a healthy dosage of gratitude.
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