You finally convince yourself to leave the house and brave the rain in search of a fresh cup of coffee and a warm pain au chocolat. You know this is never going to happen though so you decide to settle for an itty bitty cup of espresso and whatever slightly stale pastry that has made it until 3 in the afternoon.
You wandered towards the laundry mat, vaguely aware that there is a patisserie with-in walking distance from there, that serves fresh OJ with their slightly less than burnt espresso. However you are in an "adventurous" mood, and by adventurous of course we mean lazy, so you cut through a side street knowing it should put you in the general area that you are looking for, but also knowing that you will inevitably become lost as soon as you reach the other side.
Sure enough this is what happens. Everything looks familiar but you've never seen it from this direction, and you don't remember there being this many streets so you aren't sure which one to turn down. You pop your head in to a little patisserie on the corner before you decide to stay on the road you came out on and head for the larger road you can see a few blocks away. You make it to within half a block of the big road when you realize that you are going the wrong direction, so you decide to run across the street and turn back to avoid that awkward sensation that people are aware and judgmental of the fact that you have to turn around because you went the wrong way.
As you are crossing the street though you notice a brightly colored sign, that almost seems as if it was done by a street artist. You double take a read the sign, which suggests that the building is an art gallery, you look n the front window and sure enough three painting are hanging against a white wall. A man comes out and tells you that the gallery isn't currently open, but that you are more than welcome to go look inside, or at least that is what you think, he then says "It's ok, go in and look if you wish." Apparently your face says "I don't speak French" more often than you thought. You decide to check it out, after all you are in no hurry, the art seems like it may be interesting and the man was very nice about it.
As it turns out the man who invited you in is the best friend of the artist whose work is in the window, he also serves as a front desk man for the gallery. He tells you about the works in French and English and after a few minutes call into the back room. Soon his friend, the artist, appears and the three of you begin talking about the combination of street and contemporary art, about differences between Japanese and American comics, and about artists like Norman Rockwell. Another artist comes in, he is setting up some new works on the bottom floor of the gallery and seems intimidated by the fact that you all are mostly speaking English. So he scuttles off out of sight, every now and then answering questions that your little group hollers down. You learn that the current show just opened yesterday, hence their excitement. You talk a bit longer, more interested in the people than the art by this point, and eventually you leave with an invitation to come back whenever, even if it is just to practice your French. You give up on finding caffeine and baked goods now that it is nearly five and decide to head back home for a bit before heading back out to the farewell dinner for the rest of your study abroad companions.
You stop in the store on the corner to pick up some random foodstuffs/ use a few of your meal vouchers since they expire in a week, and then find yourself eating Pim's and yogurt for breakfast at half past five in the afternoon on a simple rainy day afternoon in Paris.
Friday, January 20, 2012
Sunday, January 8, 2012
New Years
It's New years in Paris. You're not quiet jet lagged from your flight back this morning, but rather exhausted by the mental implications of another five months in France.
You let the others make the plans and follow along in their footsteps up to Montmartre to watch the midnight light show that will supposedly take place near the Eiffel Tower. The others drink wine straight from the bottle but not you, you watch the crowds silently; happy to have a reason to celebrate but you'd be just as happy if you were ticked up warm in bed. "No regrets" the phrase that shaped your high school years/friends flutters through your head and you smile.
You stand guard on a wall clinging to the high medal fence waiting for the show to start. The crowd counts down more than once, no ones clock seems to be correct. You group all stares anxiously at their phones waiting for the time to pass, as if in one more minute the world will be irrevocably changed. But you know something that they don't want to hear, there are four, not one, minutes left until the New Year in Paris. Their clocks change and their excitement withers as they realize you were right. You hide your phone to keep them from wasting more time staring at a measure of something that is really only relative.
Just on time the light show begins, only it wasn't what the others expected. The sparkling Eiffel Tower looks just as it does at the top of every hour, every night. Sure fireworks are being set off here and there, even a few people in the near by crowd on the stairs of Montmartre are setting off fireworks, you are afraid someone will get hurt, but no one does.
Your group sets off through the crowds down the hill towards the Metro; the year is young and so are you, it seems fitting to make the most of it. The crowds are filled with friends you have yet to meet, Germans who share their sparklers with you just because you are nearby and smiling, in return your group searches their pockets for something to open a bottle with, eventual making use of a key. An old man holding a small but empty cups smiles at the bottle of champaign in your hand, you smile back and fill his little cup, good karma for the new year.
As you shoulder your way through the lines in the Metro you kiss all the strangers that pass, males, female old young, it doesn't matter, these people also think that some great unknowable change has just occurred, perhaps they are right. Most get kiss on both checks as is customary some on the lips some kiss hands or foreheads, wherever it is convenient for lips to meet skin as stranger-friends pass in opposite directions.
On the train someone is singing Opera, they slur their words together a bit as if intoxicated, but the notes sound right, the tempo is steady. You seek the person out, she is standing behind her tall and happy friend you steps aside when he realizes what you are looking for. The Opera singer is wearing a sequined bright red dress and a black fedora, she has every look of a young partier without a care in the world, but her voice tells you that she does care about something, she cares enough to have had herself trained.
The train cheers as she finishes and she catches you watching her and bows a bit unsure of her footing on the moving train, your group cheers louder encouraging her to take up another song but the train stops and it's time for your transfer, the singer gets off too promising to call her friend latter and finds your group in the crowed. Happy New Year! Bonn Année! and kisses on the checks are exchanged as if you've all been friends for years. She insists on speaking English and decides that she must make sure that you all get on the right train, and although you know exactly where you have to go you let her lead you through the crowds, discussing the under-appreciation of classical music as you make the walking transfer. "That is where you want to go, it's just a few more stops so don't forget to get off!" She says pointing towards line five. Once more kisses are exchanged along with have a great night! be safe! thank you so much! You all want her to feel as though she really was useful because her enthusiasm for life is contagious. You then hear your train rumbling in and hurry off down the stairs to make the platform before it does letting the night take you where it will.
You let the others make the plans and follow along in their footsteps up to Montmartre to watch the midnight light show that will supposedly take place near the Eiffel Tower. The others drink wine straight from the bottle but not you, you watch the crowds silently; happy to have a reason to celebrate but you'd be just as happy if you were ticked up warm in bed. "No regrets" the phrase that shaped your high school years/friends flutters through your head and you smile.
You stand guard on a wall clinging to the high medal fence waiting for the show to start. The crowd counts down more than once, no ones clock seems to be correct. You group all stares anxiously at their phones waiting for the time to pass, as if in one more minute the world will be irrevocably changed. But you know something that they don't want to hear, there are four, not one, minutes left until the New Year in Paris. Their clocks change and their excitement withers as they realize you were right. You hide your phone to keep them from wasting more time staring at a measure of something that is really only relative.
Just on time the light show begins, only it wasn't what the others expected. The sparkling Eiffel Tower looks just as it does at the top of every hour, every night. Sure fireworks are being set off here and there, even a few people in the near by crowd on the stairs of Montmartre are setting off fireworks, you are afraid someone will get hurt, but no one does.
Your group sets off through the crowds down the hill towards the Metro; the year is young and so are you, it seems fitting to make the most of it. The crowds are filled with friends you have yet to meet, Germans who share their sparklers with you just because you are nearby and smiling, in return your group searches their pockets for something to open a bottle with, eventual making use of a key. An old man holding a small but empty cups smiles at the bottle of champaign in your hand, you smile back and fill his little cup, good karma for the new year.
As you shoulder your way through the lines in the Metro you kiss all the strangers that pass, males, female old young, it doesn't matter, these people also think that some great unknowable change has just occurred, perhaps they are right. Most get kiss on both checks as is customary some on the lips some kiss hands or foreheads, wherever it is convenient for lips to meet skin as stranger-friends pass in opposite directions.
On the train someone is singing Opera, they slur their words together a bit as if intoxicated, but the notes sound right, the tempo is steady. You seek the person out, she is standing behind her tall and happy friend you steps aside when he realizes what you are looking for. The Opera singer is wearing a sequined bright red dress and a black fedora, she has every look of a young partier without a care in the world, but her voice tells you that she does care about something, she cares enough to have had herself trained.
The train cheers as she finishes and she catches you watching her and bows a bit unsure of her footing on the moving train, your group cheers louder encouraging her to take up another song but the train stops and it's time for your transfer, the singer gets off too promising to call her friend latter and finds your group in the crowed. Happy New Year! Bonn Année! and kisses on the checks are exchanged as if you've all been friends for years. She insists on speaking English and decides that she must make sure that you all get on the right train, and although you know exactly where you have to go you let her lead you through the crowds, discussing the under-appreciation of classical music as you make the walking transfer. "That is where you want to go, it's just a few more stops so don't forget to get off!" She says pointing towards line five. Once more kisses are exchanged along with have a great night! be safe! thank you so much! You all want her to feel as though she really was useful because her enthusiasm for life is contagious. You then hear your train rumbling in and hurry off down the stairs to make the platform before it does letting the night take you where it will.
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