Wednesday, March 7, 2012

Parle vous anglais?

I am sitting on the floor, in a tiny apartment, in Paris, eating the most delicious baguette ever. It doesn't have anything on it. It doesn't need anything on it.

Yesterday afternoon I got the Eurostar, a 2.5 hour train from London. On board, I finished my book (that's right, I have finished THREE books since leaving Australia - I am a new woman) and played peek-a-boo with a little french baby who kept popping her head up behind me and saying "salut!"

La peek-a-boo?
When I arrived in Paris, I was immediately overwhelmed by how little French I actually know. It really does make a different when you are on your own, because you don't have someone to help you muddle through. I wandered around, looking a lot like a confused tourist, clutching my bags, wondering if maybe mum was right and I should have got one of those tan bumbags that you wear under your clothes...

I went outside for a cigarette, and as soon as I did I was approached by two men saying things like "floo floo blah blah cigarette?" which I assume means "May I please bum a smoke?" I waved them away. Not long after, one man came back, gave me a sleazy look and said something like "je too la la foo foo foo" and then winked. I assumed this meant something like "I would like to take your pants off please." I smiled, said "je ne parle francais, excusez-moi" and scurried off to stand near a middle aged woman in a furry hat. I smoked quickly, and went back into the train station feeling glad that I had handled that predicament.

I then tried to withdraw some Euro, and found that my ATM card wouldn't work. That was really exciting, given that I had only brought about 25 pounds with me. I changed my meagre 25 pounds into euro at the bureau de change and then asked the money changing man "ou est la metro?" to my surprise, "ou est la metro" actually means "where is the metro" .. how good is that? I actually guessed the word for metro! I'm on fire tonight, despite the hurdles! I was feeling a little irritated by all the hurdles, but at the same time, I was kicking the ass of all the hurdles. 

I eventually got to the place where I am staying. Which is in Glaciere. I don't know where that is, but I'm told it is a good location, and it seems nice. I met up with Nicola, who I am staying with, at 'Bistro 13' which is a cafe-by-day, bar-by night that is literally next door to her apartment. She has many friends there, some of whom work there and some are regulars.

There was dancing and wine, champagne and laughing. Luckily Nicola speaks English (she is from Dublin originally) and her French is quite good. She did a lot of translating! It was fun trying to understand the French, though I did spend a significant amount of time looking at people with a puzzled look on my face. I love the way that French people say my name, it sounds like "Muddle - Len".

I learnt how to say "a la tien", and I taught French people how to say "cheers".  I also learnt that the word for sex toy in french is the same word for little duck. So keep that in mind. 
don't ask me why. 
This morning I wandered around nearby to where I am staying. Not quite game to go exploring too far yet, I wanted to get a feel for the neighbourhood first. There's a boulangerie across the road from where I am staying, so my first stop was there. I ate the best croissant in the history of the world. I wanted to wave in peoples' faces and say "look at my croissant!! isn't it great!!" but people already seem slightly annoyed in Paris, so I thought it best not. Instead I sent a text to mum, and a couple of other people, giving them the news about my croissant. I also updated my Facebook status. 

After the croissant experience, I wandered some more through lanes and winding streets. There were market stalls and little shops everywhere. I bought some hand cream and lip balm at L'Occitane (which isn't nearly as expensive here yay), looked longingly at cheese I can't have and shoes I can't afford and wondered if maybe I could just buy one handbag in Paris..  


I bought an orange here. 

Cheese. Why must you taunt me. 

When I popped out the end of delicious shopping heaven, I found myself standing somewhere near The University of Paris. My memory told me that this is the place that used to be the Sorbonne - where my dear Grandmother went to Uni. With my nifty little iPhone (and my new French carte SIM) I google mapped my way to the place where Grandmere would have studied, probably when she was about my age.

I stood at the entrance, which is guarded, so that only students can get in. The guard watched me peering in, and smiled at me. He asked me something in French and again, I said "je ne parle francais". We muddled through a short conversation in broken French and broken English, which basically consisted of me telling him that my dear sweet grandmere had studied here many years ago, and him being enamoured with the idea that I was here, all the way from Sydney, Australia, visiting La Sorbonne for my Grandmere. He ushered me in and said "but very fast you looking okay?" "merci! merci beacoup!!"

He let me stand in the quadrangle for about five minutes. I took some photos, touched the wall, thought of Grandmere here, speaking french, writing essays, rehearsing for plays... How wonderful it must have been. What an amazing woman she was. I cried a happy little tear and thanked the guard, who also looked like he might cry. It was the most beautiful part of my trip so far.

Beautiful, Oui?

After Le Sorbonne, I stopped at Starbucks and learned how to say "le grande caffe latte soja" - so they do have soy milk here! I am still not game to ask for it, anywhere but Starbucks. I bought my dreamy baguette, and it rained as I wandered back to the apartment, dipping my baguette in my coffee, and still thinking about Grandmere.

Tomorrow I think I will venture out further, perhaps to the Eiffel Tower or the Louvre - now that I feel a little more confident. Did I mention that I fixed the problem with my ATM card? Well, I did. *kicks hurdle in the ass*.

How beautiful Paris is. Even though it is overwhelming to not know much French at all, and to be alone here. It is nice when I just let myself be, and don't get stressed by it. If I do feel stressed or sad, i will just eat another croissant, and life will be good again.

xxxoxxx



4 comments:

  1. fucking GORGEOUS! what a champion you are! xx

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  2. Brought a tear to my eye too.. what a sop ;) lovely, keep the stories coming. x

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  3. Thank you for commenting, I live for comments :)

    glad you are enjoying my stories - it's weird not having anyone here to share experiences with, so I often think during the day "how will I relay this in prose?"

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  4. Haha I'm glad you fixed your atm card, I was reading it, trying to enjoy it but in the back of my mind going 'but your atm card!' That's so beautiful about the guard letting you in. You are funny and wonderful and I love your stories xoxox

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