Beyond the Books: Making Menton Home

What makes Sciences Po so magical?

The people, the passions, the slightly chaotic Google Docs at 2 a.m., and that inexplicable energy that comes from living in a town where the sea quite literally glitters.

When you arrive on campus, you’re greeted with chants, rallies, and most importantly, an associations fair. Alongside the classic “Where are you from?” and “Why did you choose Menton campus?” came the buzzing excitement of “What assoc did you apply for?” echoing down our lovely Rue Longue.

Let’s start with what became my baby for the year: the Mediterranean Model United Nations. 

As an avid MUN-er in high school, I had promised myself that I would take a backseat in university, but MEDMUN, with its bubbling crisis team, was calling my name. I joined as the Director of the Ad Hoc Committee, which, beyond its rather official-sounding title, was truly a test to see how well I could orchestrate pure geopolitical drama, organize committee affairs, and delegate applications. I truly stepped into my title as we proudly decided on our theme for the year: The fall of the Ottoman Empire

For months, our crisis team met weekly, brewing utter chaos: from absurd crises to themed activities for our committee breaks, all while Harry Potter fan songs blasted in the background. One of my core memories (and one I’m still surprised I managed to pull off) is MEDMUN 2025 weekend: three days, three countries, and three hours of sleep, max, and running around in heels with decks of delegate props and papers stuffed into every pocket I could find on me. As I reflect back, I learned more about diplomacy, manipulation, and crisis management in that one weekend than I have in my classes so far.

From geopolitics to ethnography, another highlight of my year was working with the Babel Initiative. Through it, I conducted research on cultural preservation and intergenerational transmission, specifically focusing on Gnawa and Andalusi musical traditions. Our team spent a week in Morocco, travelling through five cities and drinking what felt like an endless stream of mint tea. We interviewed local shopkeepers, maalems, ethnomusicology professors, and curators of Moroccan music festivals. We saw firsthand that culture isn't static; it flows, pulses, and often survives in the quiet humming of our grandparents on a sleepy Sunday morning.

Another major chapter of my year was with GRC (Global Research Consultancy), where I worked as a student consultant for SPNL, an NGO dedicated to nature conservation in Lebanon. There’s something surreal about being a first-year student huddled around a dining table on a Thursday night, diving into biodiversity stats and building sustainable frameworks for a real-world organisation. We studied the concept of Hima, explored indigenous agriculture, examined contemporary ecological practices, and learned how to pitch professional research reports. It was intense at times. It was real. And it mattered.

Some of my most cherished Menton memories were cooked up in our shared kitchens, over potlucks that somehow turned into rituals. Our dining tables always looked a bit chaotic, with fried rice on one end and a bizarre mix of white wine and cola on the other, but at the centre of it all, our masterpiece, the butter chicken lángos.

What started as a silly fusion experiment became the pride of our friend group. We even joked about opening a pop-up. Between bites and belly laughs, we learned how to pleat dumplings and experiment with our makeshift steaming methods, while the shapes remained questionable, but the bonding (and bullying over our skills) was real. The love for food and our endless chatter stuck so much that our coloc next year is now named after our loving potluck nights, The Dumpling Dungeon.

A “Lets go Venti, I need chicken,” text would quickly turn into us hopping on the train to Italy for groceries (or more accurately, for €15 all-you-can-eat sushi). Every return trip was the same: someone inevitably bought too much, our bags were always too heavy, and the Menton hills felt especially cruel. But deep down, those trips are some of my favourite memories. They were messy and loud and filled with snacks, but also filled with joy, friendship, and the delicious kind of exhaustion that only comes from shared adventures of dropping our eggs a minute away from our doorstep. 

On campus, I adored listening to the music club’s jam sessions echo across the parvis with the sea glistening in the background. There was something grounding about those spontaneous rhythms after long days and hyping up our friends as they sang along. On a random weekend in first semester, I ended up helping my Hungarian friend get his hands on a bansuri after he spent an evening introducing me to Hungarian sausages (my newfound love) and introducing him to 2010s Bollywood classics against his will. By one of our last jam sessions, he was playing the opening to "Give Me Some Sunshine," and suddenly our multicultural mashup was complete.

And between all of this?

The sea, the sun, the lemons. 

The rooftop conversations. The spontaneous dancing. The shared playlists. The “I don’t understand French, but I’m nodding anyway” moments. The friends who became family. The dumpling nights. The brain fog. The breakthroughs. The joy.

As we sit on the port, staring at the boats gently swaying, soaking in the breeze, we munch on our cheesy fries and let our minds wander to the craziest discussions, “If you were a public transportation, what would you be?” That moment? That’s what Menton gave me.

It’s easy to get caught up in ambition, the future plans, the pressure to keep performing. But Menton slows you down, just enough to remind you that this matters too.

The in-betweens. The not-yet-polished. The becoming.

And so…

My first year at Sciences Po wasn’t perfect, but it was mine. It was stitched together by music, meetings, MUNs, Menton sunsets, messy drafts, heartfelt conversations, and a whole lot of caffeine. I started the year with questions, and I’m leaving with even bigger ones, but this time packed with a little more courage, a stronger voice, and a wildly colorful Google Calendar. I wouldn't have it any other way.

Saloni Suri

Dual Degree student at Sciences Po Paris (Menton Campus) and the University of Hong Kong, majoring in Political Humanities and Social Policy and Social Development.