Suis-je bête?

Am I stupid? (end of octobre)

The very first day I arrived in Paris I went to look at an apartment. The apartment was beautiful. It was spacious with white walls, had a real kitchen with an actual stove, and two couches in a separate living room that welcomed you out onto a balcony with a view of a park. Julien and Jean-Romain, my potential roommates, were relaxed and friendly and it was easy to envision us getting along.

But after a lot of hemming and hawing, two things I am talented at, decided I wouldn't take it.

Even as I uttered “no”, I feared it was a mistake. The set up was perfect! Everything about it was great. If I took it, I would be completely fluent in no time, as both of them only spoke French. Yet something about it just didn't quite sit well: it wasn't in Paris. Close, but not quite. And I couldn't shake the feeling that I might regret having come this far and not live in Paris.

And now I wonder if I am just a straight up idiot. When I passed on the offer I acknowledged that housing would be incredibly difficult. And it has been.

I have two leads, if you could call them that, one in a chambre de bonne* in the same building as one of my friends and another such spot in the 16ème arrondissement (neighborhood). The only problem is that they are both riddled with... idiosyncrasies. The first place only has a ceiling window and is so small that in order to have enough space to sleep you have to fold the bed down from the wall. Hey! I could wash dishes in the sink while sitting on my bed! The toilet is in the hall that you share with five, perhaps more people in their own chambres de bonnes. It looks straight out of a “Meth, not even once” ad, which makes me wish I was on meth to make going to the loo more enjoyable. I can't move in yet, even if desired because the landlord is struggling to evict the current tenant. Eviction laws are particularly tricky in France and the guy that currently lives there is well aware. Hence, he hasn't been paying his rent, has been violent, and is making himself a smelly nuisance. However, if and when they get this guy out, I would be able to be neighbors with my friend and live in the 5ème arrondissement, aka heart of the happening Latin Quarter.

The second place doesn't have a kitchenette but the landlord told me he will let me know when it is installed. Even I am no fool, I know this could take forever. But he seems interested in renting to me. The 16ème could be nice. It is a bit calmer but I heard it is near to Little America. Hmm.

So, that original apartment sounds more and more like Eden to me as I scour this city for housing. Am I just stupid? Maybe, probably. But oh yeah. It wasn't in Paris. I knew when I said no to that first place I could end up living in a below par spot. I might. But it will be, Lord willing, in Paris.

*a chambre de bonne is a miniscule studio apartment that is on the top floor of older buildings. These were servant's quarters back in the day. They generally consist of a room with a window, counter with a hot plate, a bed, a sink, and a shower.

J'aime.

I love. (octobre)

Here is a little video from « my » spot at the Tuileries Gardens. I love this park, and not just in a Steve Carrell « I love lamp » sort of way. I really love, love, love this park. The view encompasses the Louvre, Orsay Museum, and Eiffel Tower. That posse of men you see are playing pétanque, or boules.

(If you don't know where the « I love lamp » reference is from, don't look into it. It is from a really bad movie that would make you think poorly of me. If you do know where this reference is from, you can laugh with me, knowing that even though we've both seen this movie, we aren't really so stupid to be defined by the movies we have seen. In fact, we are very refined and have many leather bound books.)

Sois Cool.

Be cool. (octobre)

Ah, le vélo. C'est un loisir qu'on n'oublierait jamais comment faire. C'est bizarre que ca marche comme ça, n'est-ce pas? Malgré les années depuis qu'on l'a fait, les muscles se souviennent comment équilibrer le corps. La concentration n'est pas nécessaire, le corps fait tout, il même.

Le truc difficile est de laisser faire, de ne pas trop penser. Mais ça, ce n'est pas facile, n'est pas?

Oh, the bike. It is something you could never forget how to do. It's weird how that works, isn't it? Despite how many years it has been, our muscles remember how to balance the body just so. Concentration is unnecessary, the body does it all on its own.

The difficult thing is to just let it do it itself, to not think too much. But that isn't easy, is it?

Eglise de Toutes Les Nations

Church of All Nations (mi-octobre)

Despite having been here several months I have been really lazy with my French. No, really, I have been, believe me. I should attempt to make an effort. So, this is me making an effort. The French is followed up by the English version.

Comme je suis nouvelle à la cité et je n'ai pas beaucoup d'amis je suis devenue gourmande des cultes des églises protestantes! Parfois je vais aux quatre d'eux, mais normalement, ce n'est que trois. J'ai le temps, donc pourquoi pas? On peut louer Dieu, chanter les chants en français, et apprendre du bon truc. Et, de temps en temps, on voit des choses qu'on pourrait pas voir ailleurs.

Par exemple, l'autre jour j'étais à une église à la rue de Lille, une église vraiment historique, belle, et couronnée avec les vitraux de tout couleur. Quand on chant dans cette église là, il semble qu'on vit un rêve. On y était, en chantant, dans ce rêve magnifient, quand tout au coup, un souris a traversé le sol au milieu de tout le monde. J'ai entendu dire des souris d'église mais ils était toujours dans les contes du Moyen Age, pas de deux mille dix.

Vraiment? J'étais étonnée. Je sais que je suis en France, ou il y a les vieux bâtiments et moins de concerne au propos des choses hygiéniques... mais ça? C'est un peu trop, n'est-ce pas? J'ai jeté un coup d'œil une autre fois au sol. Oui, il était là encore. Il n'était pas pressé, ce petit souris. Il semblait que tout le monde s'en fichent de lui. Personne a crié. Peut être c'était tout a fait normale pour eux. Peut être ils ont tous regardé le film Ratatouille et maintenant ils aiment les rongeurs.

Je cherche un communauté chrétien mais je n'ai pas eu d'attentes d'un communauté comme celui-ci! Bien avec les rongeurs!

Since I am new in this city and don't have many friends I have been filling up on church services like a fat kid in a twinkie factory. Some weekends I have gone to four services but generally average three. I have the time, so why not? You get to go praise God, sing praise songs in French, and learn stuff. From time to time, you see things you couldn't see otherwise.

For example, the other day I was in a church on the Rue de Lille. It is a church rich in history, beautiful, and the sanctuary is crowned in stained glass of every color. When you sing in this church, you feel like you're living a dream. So, there I was, singing my little heart out in this magnificent dream, when all of the sudden, a mouse crossed the floor right in the middle of everyone. I've heard of church mice before but they were always in Medieval tales, not in 2010.

Really? I was amazed. I know that I am in France, where there are old buildings and less concern about hygiene... but that? It's a bit much, isn't it? I looked again. Yep, he was still there. He was in no rush, this little mouse. It seemed that no one even cared about him. No one screamed. Maybe this was totally normal for them. Perhaps they had all seen the movie Ratatouille and love rodents now.

I have been looking for Christian community but this wasn't exactly what I had in mind. With rodents!