Wednesday, September 25, 2013

Amidst the Snow and Slush

Originally posted January 27, 2004

So after two weeks of rain every single solitary day, this weekend the sun came out. I hadn’t been horribly affected by the rain, it didn’t prohibit me from going about my daily activities, just made everything dreary. I like to think that this will only help to make me appreciate sunny spring days all the more.

I explored the Bastille area with some friends on Friday night and we found a great bar that made fantastic mojitos and had a nice ambiance. Fittingly, we had an encounter with the French resistance… to Americans. This one guy sitting at a table behind us heard us speaking English and then commenced making fun of us to his friends and throwing “yee-haws” into the conversation making sure we would notice. I was close enough to catch bits and pieces of his commentary, and it was not nice. It just goes to show that prejudices go both ways. So many people have asked me “why are you going to France??” and then explained reasons why I should choose another country. Well, for every stereotype we have of them, there’s one for us. Cowboys, incompetence, violence, obesity… it’s an extensive list. The relationship between the two countries is in such scrutiny right now. But we are geopolitically linked for better or worse. Though there are rough spots, the relationship will ultimately endure. I'm told in books and documentaries that going through something like World War II with someone creates unbreakable ties. It seems plausible that would apply at the national level.

Even if this city was full of anti-American sentiment, which it is not, I would still be enamored with it. I went to a play this weekend which consisted of the poetry of François Villon set to music and acted out. I went to the Chinese New Year parade on the Champs Elysées, I walked down winding streets in the Latin Quarter finding esoteric shops that make you wonder how they survive. I saw “Lost in Translation” which I highly recommend. If you see it, keep your eyes wide open and notice the beautiful images featured, like moving canvases of urban light. The soundtrack is incredible too. Even just normal life activities take on an air of romance and adventure simply for having taken place in this beautiful city.

I spent a lot of time planning trips for the semester this week and coordinating with people who are coming to visit. I found a ridiculously cheap flight to Naples for next weekend so I’ll be climbing up Mount Vesuvius and exploring the glowing blue grotto of Capri in a week’s time. And if I’m not done traveling there’s a thousand and one plays, art exhibits, sporting events, or outings to go on. The resources are inexhaustible. I was at the Centre George Pompidou today and the strangest thing happened. If you recall from a journal entry I wrote in October, I was out exploring museums in Grenoble when I came across a video exhibit of an artist named Orlan. She had half black, half white hair, outrageous glasses, black lipstick, no eyebrows… So, I’m waiting outside the Centre Pompidou for the rest of the group to arrive and who do I see but ORLAN standing directly in front of me. She’s not an easily forgettable face. She was all in black and white with a huge black and white umbrella, those enormous glasses and that crazy black and white hair still in the huge single wave on top of her head. I guess you could say it’s my first famous person spotting in Paris. I thought it was so weird to see her here. She should have just stayed in the museum standing against a wall somewhere because she’s definitely a piece of work all by herself.

I had the interview for my internship at the American Chamber of Commerce in France. At first, I was not too pleased with this option because I don’t want to speak English all the time. I am obviously here to speak French. I spoke with the director of the Chamber this morning. He spoke to me only in French and he reassured me that the better part of the communication I would be doing would be in French. He also said I would be involved in conferences, meetings, and numerous other activites and they would make every effort to make it interesting. Of course, as an intern, there will be some clerical work to be done, database entry and the like, but I think it will be a good place for me. It’s in a beautiful building and it would be about a 40 minute metro ride every morning, but that would be the case anywhere. I think this will complement nicely my experience (however trivial) at the French-American Chamber of Commerce in DC. We’ll give it a go.

One of the best things to do here is just to walk around and take in the beauty. Instead of saving 20 minutes, walking 5 metro stops adds 20 years on to your life for the things you take in and the sights you see. Everything here is pleasing to the eye. Even the metros have a charm about them. In any given tunnel or car, at any given time, there will be puppet shows, opera singers, mandolin players, string quartets, mariachi bands, or just plain crazy people who are expressing themselves and hoping to get a few centimes in return. There are some aspects of the metro which are not so charming, like the corners that you encounter not infrequently that smell overwhelmingly of urine, or stale beer, or both. There are the crowds and within those crowds there is being pressed up against someone who obviously is not a fan of personal hygiene. But I can’t help but smile at it all. I look up at people’s faces when I’m walking against the flow of traffic and think each one has a story. I don’t know if it’s just something about France, or I never noticed it in America, but I feel like there’s more life here, that people are not so consumed with their business and success. How could they be with 35 hour work weeks, 8 weeks paid vacation, and 2 hour lunch breaks as standard practice? They look up, they stop, they notice.

So maybe I’ve slightly romanticized the Paris transportation system, and those Parisians who use it. But this city is such an appealing exception to every rule, I like to muse on it. Even when the transport system fails me (strikes, poorly marked or wrong signs, buses that never come, misleading information…) I forgive it readily.

I'm definitely doing that that new-relationship thing where I'm bringing up my new boyfriend (that is, Paris) every chance I get and can't shut up about him and my friends are happy for me but starting to hate it a little, too. Apologies in advance: I think this one's a keeper, so expect more gushing. I am hoping that Southern Italy will be kind and show us some good weather next weekend, and will abstain from any volcanic eruptions. Right now it’s snowing and slushing, freezing cold, and showing no signs of relenting. Pompeii and Herculaneum, here I come.

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