Bonjour! I apologize for the delay in writing a new post to my readers (my mom and dad). Classes started yesterday morning and I have been running around ever since. First, let's play catch-up.
Sundays in Paris are extremely lazy or as they claim, "restful." All stores and the majority of restaurants are closed due to France still being majority Catholic. Therefore, I had a pretty relaxing day that consisted of walking to the Louvre (didn't make it inside due to an atrocious line), grabbing some lunch at an Italian eatery (you can put an Italian girl in Paris but you can't take the Italian out of the girl) and then read my book in the Luxembourg Gardens.
There is an unspoken game in the Gardens that I have quickly caught on to. The Gardens, albeit very beautiful, are incredibly large and on Sundays when there is nothing to do, incredibly crowded. The accessible grassy areas where visitors are permitted to sit, were littered with traveling college students and their multiple bottles of wine. Unable to find a place to rest, I noticed several chairs lining the interior of the gardens, overlooking the vast field of sunflowers, tulips and statues of "famous" French intellectuals.
I became quickly annoyed when I saw that the lack of available chairs was due to tourists using a chair to sit on and a chair to rest their feet. They relax in their overcompensating lounge contraptions and smirk at those who stand on the outskirts waiting to pounce on the next available seat. I quickly realized I was now playing a game of musical chairs with the dozens of people around me, all of us, muscles twitching, waiting for the right opportunity to lunge for a chance to steal an opportunity for relaxation.
I keenly observed my competition... a couple too distracted by each other's tongues to be a real threat, another girl around my age too engrossed in her iPhone to take notice and a group of 4 burly Irishmen, the obvious threat, all four of them able to circle in from different directions. However, I quickly developed a strategy that I knew couldn't fail.
I didn't bother to look at chairs preoccupied by couples because they were far too engrossed in each other to move anytime soon. Those seats occupied by the eldery were also immediately ruled out because their limbs were too exhausted, unable to maintain the pace of thirty to fourty years ago. Instead, I looked for the seats filled with little children, trying their best to keep still, but unable to contain their energy that only a five year old pumped full of Nutella and Orangina could possess. I knew that eventually, one of them would leap from their seat to chase a butterfly, kick a stone or run around a tree and their parents would quickly run after them.
It was the perfect plan, because no more than 3 minutes later, two small boys leaped from their seats and started chasing each other; weaving in and out of tourists and trees. I briskly walked over to the chairs and not a moment too soon because two of my Irish competitors were directly behind me, throwing their hands up in defeat because they had just been outsmarted and outplayed. I slid into my chair, whipped out my book, and looked out on the faces of the new players, anxiously waiting for their turn to play, just like I had seconds before.
Class for the past two days has been terrible. Besides having to wake up at 7 am for my 8:30 am class, I was placed into a level of French that is years beyond my level of understanding. I argue with my brain, trying to get it to wake up, forcing it to translate what the professor is saying as fast as possible, but as soon as I figure out a few words, she is already three thoughts ahead. I feel like a small fish who belongs in a pond drowning in an ocean full of sharks, sharks who speak exceptional French fluently while I attempt to swim as fast as humanly possible in order to catch up. Luckily, I had my class changed today and I will be starting in a new one tomorrow morning, although I still have class at 8:30.
Life grows to be more comfortable every day here. I have mastered the Metro, the French keyboard, the rules of the escalator and the always insane Monoprix. I am learning about the art of the crepe, the attitudes of the people, the pace of the city, the way of Paris life. I feel more at home every day I'm here, although I don't know if I will ever be a true Parisian, because smiling feels way too good and butter gets tiresome after the first few days.
I'm off to pick up some books for class.
Jusqu'à demain... de Paris, avec l'amour.
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