J'aime Paris!

European cities always smell different than American cities, although I've never quite figured out why. Once again, Paris was no different. I was staying for three days with my friend Audrey, a blonde, silly, but somewhat quiet homebody, at her 5th floor walkup flat in the 20th Arronndissement in the northeast corner of the city, just off Avenue Gambetta. It took me two trips to lug my suitcase and bags up her stairs and I was panting by the time I made it in.

She had just woken up and I was exhausted from the flights, so we just chatted for a couple of hours while I drank a coffee and sent a few emails to let people know I'd arrived safely. Eventually I decided to fight sleep for a few more hours and head over to the Cimetiere de Pere-Lachaise, the most famous cemetary in France, only 10 minutes walk from Audrey's house. I showered and brushed my teeth and set off to explore. Within 3 blocks of Audrey's flat I was stopped by two different French women asking for directions. I was flattered but taken aback and had to double check with my internal scam radar to make sure they weren't asking for money.

The cemetary was ancient and imposing and was especially surreal since I was running nearly 24 hours without sleep. Every famous French person who's worth their salt has been buried there, and the list includes Jean-Baptiste Clement, Eugene Delacroix, Marcel Marceau, Colette, Marcel Proust, Simone Signoret, Edith Piaf, and Moliere, to name a few. I'm sad to say I did not find the grave of a gentleman by the name of Victor Noir, who, according to Wikipedia, was "a journalist killed by Pierre Napoleon Bonaparte in a dispute over a duel with Paschal Grousset. The tomb, designed by Jules Dalou is notable for the realistic portrayal of the dead Noir, and for the fact that he appears to be at least partially sexually aroused, his large penis pushing his part-unbuttoned fly open. In consequence, the sculpture has become a fertility symbol. His lips are kissed, the genital area is rubbed and flowers are left in his hat. In 2005 a fence was erected around his tomb to prevent people rubbing the said area, as this was damaging the sculpture, but it has subsequently been removed." Famous non-Frenchmen buried there include Oscar Wilde, Frederick Chopin, Gertrude Stein, Richard Wright, and, notably, Jim Morrison.

After the cemetary I crashed into a four hour nap, woke up briefly to have dinner and chat with Audrey, then went back to bed for the rest of the night.

The next morning I woke early and spent several hours on the computer catching up on email and working on grad school stuff. My plan for the day was to head to the center of Paris and just amble around, reacquainting myself with the famous monuments that I hadn't seen in 5 years, and then find a nice little cafe at which to get out my laptop and write scholarship essays. I caught the subway from Gambetta to Cite, and walked the short 5 minutes to Notre Dame, a good starting point for seeing the major sights. As I stood in front of the church and aimed my camera at myself a voice behind me said, "Oh, let me take that for you, and then you can take one of me, I'm traveling alone, too." I turned around to discover a short, friendly-looking olive-skinned girl in a red shirt and fanny-pack smiling at me and reaching for my camera. A little surprised, I handed over my camera and posed for the shot, and obligingly took her camera and repeated the favor. We launched into conversation immediately, and spent the next 6 hours walking all over Paris seeing the major sights. Her name was Luchy and she was from Guatemala, although at the insistence of her mother she had spent 3 months of every year from the age of 7-17 in the United States learning English. She had just finished her master's degree in hydrology and was taking a few weeks to travel around the world before she went home to her parents' house to look for a job. She admitted that she was a bad tourist, and that all she wanted to do was see the landmarks without actually going in anywhere because she hated lines and art, so we hiked up and down the Seine all day, stopping to swap photos of each other at each destination. (I did finally convince her to go into the Louvre, because she could get in free with her student card, promising that the line to see the Mona Lisa moves quickly, which is true.) At the end of the day we exchanged contact info, and so I added another friend to my world list.

After the day with Luchy I came back to the flat, made dinner, chatted with Audrey while we ate, and expected to have some energy left to work on scholarship essays, but sleep claimed me instead.

I've been picking up new words left and right and realizing that I understand quite a bit of what goes on around me even if I can't repeat back exactly what was said. One thing that bothers the heck out of me is that the French don't have a saying for "Good Morning." The words exist, and the logical phrase would be "Bon Matin" but no, that is never used. I spent a good 10 minutes quizzing Audrey over this, and she iterated over and over that in the morning they only say "Bonjour" to greet friends, coworkers, lovers, etc., but that once in a while you might say "Bon Matinee" or "Bon Journee" but that's only if you have already greeted someone for the morning and are leaving the office to go to a meeting, for example, but that really those phrases aren't used very much. It is inherently frustrating for me because it seems like a much more pleasant greeting to say "Good morning" instead of just "Hello." Likewise, "Bon Soir" means "Good Evening," but "Bon Soiree" means "Good Evening" but that you will not be seeing the person again that night. "A plus tard", "A toute de suite" and "A toute a l'heure" mean "see you later (on that day)" while "A bientot" means "see you later (but not later on that day)." I knew French had a lot of rules but I guess I don't know the half of it.

For my last day in Paris Audrey had invited me to accompany her to a working brunch at Le Pain Quotidien, which she had to patronize as a mystery shopper. The food was excellent and the service not, but all in all it was enjoyable. After lunch we met two of her friends and went to the outdoor market "Marche de les Puces" (literally "Market of the Fleas") where I spent way too much money on questionable goods, and then to the outlet mall, with the same result. I did end up purchasing a French Virgin Mobile pay-as-you-go cell phone, however, which had been on my to-do list, for a grand total of 9 euros, with a starter card already included. (the phone was normally 50 euros and the starter card normally 19 euros, but somehow they were running a special where you get both for 9 euros. Don't really understand that one but I'm just gonna go with it.)

Now my last day is winding down, and tomorrow I meet my host family in Tours. J'aime Paris.