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| Cathedral Sacre Coeur |
Tuesday, 20th of June 2017
The man who owned the restaurant was
exceptionally nice. He had dark brown skin, very short shaved black hair, and
was wearing a tee-shirt with shorts and flip flops. I’m sure I looked frazzled,
but was happy to be there, and my face whether I like it or not always give me
away. He brought me some water and said “you are ok?”
To which I responded, “yes, it’s just been
a rough day.” He said he’d had one of those days too, so I asked him what
happened. He said he’d been in a car accident that morning, and that his car
was totaled. Then he asked me, and I felt silly saying my bag was lost. It was
such a reminder that even when things go wrong, there is always someone who has
it worse. Regardless he didn’t lord his car crash over me, and I read more of Emily Dickinson’s letters while he
cooked my burger.
This was the messiest, but most tasty
burger I have ever had. A huge slice of eggplant served as the center with
sweet lettuce and melted vegan cheese, something fried and crispy on top of the
eggplant. It also came with a salad, which was very simple, just finely chopped
carrot sticks and lettuce with a dressing that I could taste sesame oil in and
something else, not quite soy sauce, but tasting something like it, perhaps
some kind of Asian balsamic vinegar.
After the burger I walked back to
St. Christopher’s. It was then 6pm when I got there, and through the windows in
the doors that led to the reception desk, I could see a large silver luggage
case next to the desk. I walked up to it, holding my breath. What if it wasn’t
mine? I read the tag on it before I believed that it really was my bag. Then I
felt incredibly silly for worrying and waiting there all day, but I tried to
push it out of my mind, because all I wanted to think about was how happy I was
to have all my stuff together again. I found a chair inside, and got to talk to
Mike for an hour before I called an Uber.
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| La Maison Rose |
The next place I was staying was
very close to St. Christopher’s but not close enough that I wanted to walk
there with a huge suitcase and a carryon suitcase. I decided Uber was the best
route so I wouldn’t have to lug my bags, and I got a free ride because it was
my first time using Uber. My driver Ben was the greatest. He really didn’t
speak much English, but he was patient enough with me to speak in French slowly
so I could understand. I will call this my first real conversation in French
with a Frenchman. We talked about things I’d seen in Paris so far, the other
crazy drivers, just chit chat stuff, but I felt very vindicated after all those
terrible French conversations over the phone about my baggage, like “yes! I can
speak and understand French.”
When I arrived at Eléonore and
Anthony’s apartment, part of their road was closed for construction, so Ben had
no choice but to let me out a little ways down the road. When I found their
door, a guy in their building helped me lift my bags inside, as there were a
few steps. Luckily Eléonore and Anthony’s apartment was on the ground floor.
They must have heard us, because Eléonore opened the door before I knocked.
Even though these two were strangers
I’d never met, and only communicated with on couch surfing, I felt like I knew
them. They were so warm and inviting I felt as if I was returning to stay with
friends. Eléonore cooked us some pasta alfredo, and during the meal we talked
about politics in France. They showed me a hilarious video with John Oliver
mocking French candidates. See the Video here.
I learned that the French vote twice, the
first time they have 10 or 11 candidates to choose from and they get two votes:
to choose a candidate to represent the right, and to choose a candidate to
represent the left. A few weeks later they vote again to decide between the two
candidates. They were telling me how the new president doesn’t really go to the
far right, or the left, and he likes to think of himself as in the middle of
the two groups. He’s the youngest President they’ve ever had, but his wife is
20 years older than him. He’s also never been elected to any public office
before, which is quite rare, considering he got elected as president!
We kept having to pause the video to
discuss each candidate, which would spark a new conversation, either about
race, gun laws, execution, did you know there is no death penalty in France?
They see the death penalty as quite barbaric, and seems to me their prison time
is not awarded so freely as it is in the states.
Eléonore had an interesting perspective on
Muslims. So, in France, if your employer doesn’t want you to wear a headscarf
or hijab to work, it is against the law to wear one. They see it as when you
are working, you represent the company, not yourself, and so you must dress as
the employer wishes. I thought that was terrible, since in America we are used
to being able to wear whatever we want, unless your job has a uniform of
course. Eléonore saw it quite differently. She thinks it’s oppressive to women
to wear a scarf or hijab because it’s in place as like a modesty thing, so they
won’t tempt men with their hair etc. And of course men should learn to control
themselves regardless of what a woman is wearing. So Eléonore thinks that it
should be illegal to wear the scarf in France, but the Muslims argue that if
that was the law, they would not allow their women out of the house without
their scarf.
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| View from the steps of the Sacre Coeur |
We also talked about the police.
Mike heard about a terrorist attack in a stadium in France a few years ago, and
read it took much longer than it should have to stop the person because none of
the police officers had guns. I don’t know how much of this was true looking
back, but I had thought that French police didn’t have guns, only sticks. This
turned out to be so wrong. E & A told me the country has declared a state
of martial law, so any place where people gather, like museums, monuments,
large metro stations, tours etc. You will see people dressed in full military
gear with bulletproof vests and guns across their chests. These are members of
the military mostly, but I have seen police officers in vests with guns as
well.
Anthony also told me that if someone
attacks you, it has to be a fair fight, equal weaponry. In the US if a person
breaks into your house, you can kill that person legally. Here, it is illegal
to kill someone who has broken into your house. On top of that, if you are
going to defend yourself, it must be a fair fight. If they come at you with a
knife, and you shoot them, you are at fault, because it wasn’t a fair fight, or
equal weaponry.
After dinner, Eléonore suggested I
go outside and walk up to the Sacre Coeur to see the sunset. I was tired and
didn’t really want to, but then I thought maybe they wanted to get rid of me
for a little bit, so I went anyway. It turns out I’m so glad I did. Their
apartment is in Monmartre, which has to be the most beautiful neighborhood in
Paris. Right outside their door are steps, quite a lot of steps, maybe 6
flights? When you get to the top of these steps, you are at the Sacre Coeur. It
has a beautiful view of the entire city, and there weren’t very many people
there this time of night. I walked around the cathedral, and there was still
some daylight so I decided to walk around Monmartre a little bit. I passed by
La Maison Rose and thought it was so pretty, the way it was on a corner, and
wondered if there was a story behind it. All the streets are cobblestones, laid
out in a repeating fan pattern. Many famous impressionist artists lived in
Monmartre. I could see why, the place was so picturesque.
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