Oh my...

Monday I was walking through the quartier where my classes are and passed a beautiful Gothic cathedral just across from the Pantheon. I must have walked past it 100 times and just never noticed it... So I went in quietly and the place was awesome. All Gothic with amazing stained glass, it was built in the 1600's or something, and just gorgeous. Then I noticed there were pictures everywhere of various popes (as recent as John Paul II) leading mass there... and as I circled the sanctuary, I came across the tomb of Sainte Genevieve. She’s the patron saint of Paris, and so obviously a BIG deal here. And nobody knows about this church, it’s not a tourist landmark, it’s just THERE with her solid gold sarcophagus in an apse off the main part of the church. Again, I will never understand how this country could just leave something like that without making a bigger deal of it. All around the church were stories carved into the stones of the building of Sainte Genevieve appearing to Parisians or the French in times of crisis– again, like when the Germans were invading during WWI.
Also, I found out over the weekend that there is a Monet museum IN MY ARRONDISSEMENT. Not knowing this is like... living in Largo and not knowing there is a Monet museum in Seminole. It’s not just Monet, but the collection in it came mostly from Monet’s grandson and some other guy, so it is named after the two of them. And the entire bottom floor is Monet’s works. Famous ones, too. The bridges, mostly, and the nympheas (waterlilies), and the Houses of Parliament. Amazing. Tons and tons of them, huge, in the middle of a street of apartments just down the road from me. And also medieval manuscripts and tapestries, and famous works by Degas, Renoir, Manet, Morisot, and tons of other people, all just in this tiny building that used to be an apartment! A large apartment, granted, but still. A block away from the museum is the Parc de Ranelagh, where I hung out afterwards reading... French parks are still nothing like US ones. You generally can’t walk on the grass, just on gravelled paths, and there are sculptures everywhere– nice ones, not like the copper colored ones in the fountains at malls in the States. The whole place was beautiful, and I still can’t believe it took me a month of living here to find it.
Saturday afternoon I went to a French flea market. It’s in the 20th arrondissement, which means It is about a 45 minute Metro ride from where I live, and all the way on the outskirts of Paris. I went with Rachel, my friend from high school who is studying here, and ended up glad I wasn’t alone. It was sort of like flea markets in the States, selling a lot of junk (except this junk was fake Limoges china instead of chainsaw blades with deer heads painted on them) and some cool stuff (bolts and bolts of cloth, pashmina scarves, tea sets, old books...) And also a little bit like the Woolly Worm, much as I hate to say it... there were trailers selling fried food at all corners of the market, though the stuff they sold was still more French than what’s sold at the Woolly Worm. No cinnamon rolls, alas. But there were also carnival-style games and people yelling for us to come look at their stalls, like at the one Mexican market I have been to, though less pushy. One guy (who clearly spoke NO English) tried to convince Rachel and I he was American... and then asked us both for our numbers. Shady. But we also got asked several times if we were Anglaise instead of Americaine, and I LOVE THAT. Because it means the accent, the style of dress, and the attitude of the States is disappearing. I bought a few Christmas presents, my family will be impressed it took me moving to another continent to get me to buy Christmas presents from a flea market. (P.S. In French they are still called flea markets– "Marches des Puces.")

Sidenote: it's finally gotten cool in Paris-- we had one day of bitter cold rain, and then just like in Atlanta, that meant the beginning of... I don't know, winter? autumn? But last night I slept with my down comforter all night and was snug and cozy. So today I am leaving my class and pause outside to put on my jacket-- I had my headphones on so I am used to people not talking to me when I am wearing them-- but this old woman stops me and says (all in French, of course) something to the effect of "The whole world is sad, mademoiselle!" And I took out my headphones and said "Pardon?" in my best French accent. And she (who was about 1 meter tall) said "The whole world, mademoiselle, is it sad?" And I said, "Ahhh, ce n'est pas vrai, j'espere..." which was my best effort at "I hope not." And she says something like (this is the best I got out of it, because she was quite difficult to understand, being only a meter high and speaking in French), "well, if the world is not said, why aren't you smiling? Il faut que tu ris un petit peu-- you ought to smile a little bit, for what could a young jolie femme (pretty girl) like you have to be sad about?" I suppose I must not have been smiling... it was cold, I was tired and in a hurry, but she caught me totally off guard. So I grinned and (trying not to sound American) told her I would try to. And she asked me if I was English, I said yes, because sometimes I still forget that BEING English and SPEAKING English are two very different things. She told me she went to college in England, and then quite abruptly said "au revoir" and was off to cheer up someone else. I feel like things like that just don't HAPPEN to me in the US. Or maybe I just don't notice. But it was cool.

A few minutes later, still grinning and listening to my headphones again, I wandered into a papeterie to buy school supplies and the WINDOW-WASHER of all people stopped me and was like, "Pardon, mademoiselle, mais je veut vous dire que vous etes tres mignon." "Excuse me, miss, but I wanted to tell you that you are very cute." It HAD to be the smile that the old woman put on my lips. Hahaha.

Still have mono-induced exhaustion-- yesterday when I finally got home from classes I fell asleep, quite by accident FOR THREE HOURS. I guess I needed it... The French have this saying, "Metro, boulot, dodo" and it means "Commute, work, sleep," because so many people have to live so far out of town that once work is over they come straight home and just stay in. Everyone keeps telling us not to do that, that we should be enjoying our stay here, etc. but now that classes have started and I can barely hold my eyes open, I feel like I am in danger of becoming the living example of the "Metro/Boulot/Dodo" lifestyle.
Oh well, I'm doing my best. And still always having fun.
L'amour,
B