"After all, miss, this is France..."

Today is Toussaint (All Saint’s Day) which is like, HUGE here. As in, nobody cares about Halloween– no decorations, no candy, no trick-or-treat, no costumes. BUT today the entirety of Ile-de-France (our prefecture in France– Paris and the suburbs, basically) was closed. No classes for Blair and Jessi, what are you girls doing next? EURODISNEYLAND! So we took the RER about 40 minutes out of the city to Chessy-sur-Marne and the park.

First of all, let’s discuss the fact that I am 20 years old (and will be 21 in 4 days) and I realized today that I learned everything I knew about geography from the "It’s a Small World" ride at Disney World. This remained all the basis of my knowledge of all foreign countries until probably the age of 15, when I took geography as a required course my sophomore year. And what’s worse: I am ok with that. Growing up, I assumed that people in Europe (the ambiguous continent where the old Disney movies all seem to be set) lived in cottages with thatched roofs and thick plaster walls and ate things like gooseberry pie. It didn’t occur to me that this is probably not a normal course of development until today.

The park was amazing, superfun, so cute, like being back in the States... sort of. But then I would open my eyes a little wider and realize that all the signs were in French; the announcements and parades were in French; and instead of selling those smelly turkey legs, they had, I kid you not, CREPE venders. (Venders? Vendors? Learning French has ruined my spelling) Oh, Europe. We tried (again, when will we learn our lesson?) to get lunch at a "Mexican Cantina" in Frontierland... I am not saying that North Carolina/Georgia/Florida/Kentucky Mexican food is straight out of Mexico City. But what I am saying is that it is much closer than whatever they serve in Europe.

On the "It’s a Small World" ride (here called "Que le monde est trop petit"– and sung that way to the same tune), which we rode solely because it had no line, the US was represented with a cowboy, some teepees, a covered wagon, and a Fred & Ginger type couple twirling in front of the Hollywood sign. I feel like that is quite skewed. France was represented with dancers in front of the Eiffel Tower, a parachuting purple poodle, someone wearing a striped shirt and a beret, and a lot of baguettes. Cliche though those both may be, having spent time in both places I can tell you that although in Paris there are still dancers in front of the Eiffel Tower and people in berets, in the US we have no more covered wagons, no more teepees (except at Mammoth Cave, KY) and no more Fred. Which made me laugh. And Frontierland? Good Heavens. The announcements in Thunder Mountain (when the crazy miner is supposed to be talking to you) are in French. Somehow it doesn’t sound nearly so podunk in another language). Also, as we went through Thunder Mountain, there was a room that the roller coaster went through that was completely dark except for glowing bats near the ceiling, and inserted sound effects. Having worked in such conditions, we went flying through the room and all I could think was "if these people would stop screaming the bats would quit bothering them..."

Rides were longer than in the States, lines slightly shorter, but that was probably because Europeans hate this place– and also because the temperature today was 43 (Fahrenheit) with a wind chill of 38. Jessi and I were hardcore, standing in line for Peter Pan in the freezing rain and not caring, but Europeans are just not that barbaric.

The Haunted Mansion ride, which I dragged Jessi to first because it has been my favorite since... oh, you know, forever, was nearly twice as long as the one in the States, and WAY scarier. The same grumpy-looking attendants, but the sound effects and disembodied voice were, obviously, in French. The cars lurched more, and as we got on, the "cast member" helping us onto the cart pushed the rail down over our laps and said, in the most terrifying voice, "Adieu, mesdemoiselles"– in France you never say adieu; it’s like, goodbye for the final time, like if you are leaving the country and know you will never visit. Or if you expect the other person to die before the next time you see them. Hence the creepiness of the guy saying it to us.

All day long the weather got progressively colder and colder, till it started raining on us. We thought it would be warmish, since it was yesterday, and has been since we GOT to this country, so we dressed as such– I had a long-sleeved shirt on and a light fleece pullover... I probably could have gone and bought a plastic poncho thing once it started raining, but nobody was wearing them and I firmly believe it is because people in Europe are too civilized for that kind of thing, so they just don’t sell them. Even if they did, though, I would probably have chosen to wander in the rain instead... as much because of the fashion statement as because they probably cost 10 Euros. But in the midst of shivering in line for Pirates of the Caribbean and cursing the weather for deciding to become cold on the same day that I decided to spend outside, I realized that I HAVE NEVER HAD THAT ISSUE AT DISNEY... EVER. Growing up in Florida, I remember it being miserably, unbearably, unbelievably heat-stroke-worthy hot many times. I remember employees and crazy Spanish tourists with makeup melting off, humidity so thick you could swim in it, and lines for ice cream venders longer than for Space Mountain, I even remember the acronym created, I assume, by embittered employees: Experimental Polyester Clothing Of Torture... and I have no idea what EPCOT really stands for. So being there today as the weather dropped from a comfortable 55 to a chilly 50, and then finally a bitter 43... was completely novel to me. Kids, I have learned, stay in better spirits in cold than heat... And the cast members all have (at least at EuroDisney, probably not in Orlando) winterizing accouterments for their outfits: hooded cloaks and matching gloves in Fantasyland; stocking caps and flannel jackets in Frontierland; and tux jackets with tails (purple, no less!) and top hats at the haunted mansion. ROCK ON.

I still want to work at Disney... I would draw the line (probably) at being one of the people with the stand-up dustpan thing, but I would do pretty much anything else that Disney would pay me to. I wonder how much they pay...? Our tickets, because we live on the Ile-de-France, and are French students, were only 34Euros... so like $43 ish. Which I think is perhaps cheaper than Orlando now, but I am not sure.

So fun... though I hate to even think that because the very thought probably undermines all credibility I have gained as a European ex-patriate... but it was awesome. Though truly, it remains something that is better in the US, and were the real Orlando version transplanted to Europe, I think they would like it much better. Our characters are not as squeaky, rides not as lurchy, and the place is just bigger in the States. But probably, I realize now, the real reason it goes over so much better in the States is that people there UNDERSTAND IT. In Europe, a pink fake castle in the middle of the Parisian suburbs is lame– they could go to the other side of Paris and see the castle that Louis XIII lived in, and you can forget about them even remotely comprehending the concept of "Main Street USA" at the entrance to the park. Oh, how I wish I was still an American Studies major and could write papers on this instead of in French about the German Resistance during WWII.
Mmm, Bedtime!
Your Belle au Bois Dormant,
Blair