Here is how to lose track of one month of your life- Hold a conference in Iraq, immediately have a one week training on peace building for you and your staff, and then spend the next week frantically doing everything that needs to be done before the end of March so you can leave for Paris. Phew. That leads us to today.
I flew out of Erbil on Tuesday and had a connecting flight to Paris through Frankfurt. As we flew in to Paris it was dark and I saw bits of light sparking in the darkness and in the distance this gleaming sea of light. As we swooped around the city I saw the Eiffel Tower standing bright among all that light. Charles de Gaulle airport felt like space mountain to me. It is the oddest configuration I have ever encountered in an airport and yet, it is very memorable. After taking an escalator shute to baggage claim I waited while everyone else claimed their luggage and I was still waiting when everyone left. I wandered around asking people in French if they could help me. Finally, I found some baggage claim people. I was filling out the lost luggage form when an airline worker brought my bag. Phew. Then I climbed into a taxi and headed to the hotel. The road to Clichy, where my hotel is located, was closed. It took a little big longer and a few more Euro to get to my hotel. Then, the gentleman at the front desk shook his head sadly at me when I said I had a reservation (in French no less). My reservation was for Wednesday, not Tuesday. Thankfully, he was ridiculously kind and called around and found me another hotel. My room was on the 5th floor in the eaves and felt like a dorm room and I was happy. The only problem is I hadn't slept in a twin bed for so long that I kept almost falling out of bed.
I got up in the morning and stood in the wrong line for a ticket, which meant I missed the 10:46 train to Caen. No worries, I took the 12:10 and still arrived in time to pick up my car. Except, they would not give me my car because I did not have a credit card (I only had my debit card). At that point, I was tired, cold and hungry. I was trying to think of some plan B that would keep me in the countryside, but with out a car and no public transportation I had no options. I wanted some time in the country and to see Normandy, but alas, no. So, I took the next train back to Paris and checked into the hotel I tried to check into last night. Thankfully I have a double bed. I went to dinner at the bistro across the street and had a delightful Croque Monsieur (pas de jambon, bien sur) and a couple of glasses of wine. Oh, and a nutella crepe. All I had eaten all day was a croissant and yogurt. There was some dijon mustard on the table that was so strong it burned, but in a good way. I was eating my Croque Monsieur with tears in my eyes and joy in my heart. I then traipsed across the street to my hotel.
Tomorrow, I think I am going to move to Quatier Latin. The only reason I was over here was because it was close to the train station to take me to Normandy. The real excitement is that I have been able to make my way around speaking French. There are a couple of times that I can't think of the word, or I conjugate verbs incorrectly, but I am doing it. In some instances I think I even have people fooled that I am not an American, until they respond so quickly and I have only have half a clue as to what they said. Oh well. Considering it is only day one, I think by the end of my vacation I'll be speaking more fluently. In shallah. Which reminds me, I responded to one gentleman in Kurdish. There have been a couple of phrases that pop up in my head in Arabic that I then translate to French. Too many languages!!
I flew out of Erbil on Tuesday and had a connecting flight to Paris through Frankfurt. As we flew in to Paris it was dark and I saw bits of light sparking in the darkness and in the distance this gleaming sea of light. As we swooped around the city I saw the Eiffel Tower standing bright among all that light. Charles de Gaulle airport felt like space mountain to me. It is the oddest configuration I have ever encountered in an airport and yet, it is very memorable. After taking an escalator shute to baggage claim I waited while everyone else claimed their luggage and I was still waiting when everyone left. I wandered around asking people in French if they could help me. Finally, I found some baggage claim people. I was filling out the lost luggage form when an airline worker brought my bag. Phew. Then I climbed into a taxi and headed to the hotel. The road to Clichy, where my hotel is located, was closed. It took a little big longer and a few more Euro to get to my hotel. Then, the gentleman at the front desk shook his head sadly at me when I said I had a reservation (in French no less). My reservation was for Wednesday, not Tuesday. Thankfully, he was ridiculously kind and called around and found me another hotel. My room was on the 5th floor in the eaves and felt like a dorm room and I was happy. The only problem is I hadn't slept in a twin bed for so long that I kept almost falling out of bed.
I got up in the morning and stood in the wrong line for a ticket, which meant I missed the 10:46 train to Caen. No worries, I took the 12:10 and still arrived in time to pick up my car. Except, they would not give me my car because I did not have a credit card (I only had my debit card). At that point, I was tired, cold and hungry. I was trying to think of some plan B that would keep me in the countryside, but with out a car and no public transportation I had no options. I wanted some time in the country and to see Normandy, but alas, no. So, I took the next train back to Paris and checked into the hotel I tried to check into last night. Thankfully I have a double bed. I went to dinner at the bistro across the street and had a delightful Croque Monsieur (pas de jambon, bien sur) and a couple of glasses of wine. Oh, and a nutella crepe. All I had eaten all day was a croissant and yogurt. There was some dijon mustard on the table that was so strong it burned, but in a good way. I was eating my Croque Monsieur with tears in my eyes and joy in my heart. I then traipsed across the street to my hotel.
Tomorrow, I think I am going to move to Quatier Latin. The only reason I was over here was because it was close to the train station to take me to Normandy. The real excitement is that I have been able to make my way around speaking French. There are a couple of times that I can't think of the word, or I conjugate verbs incorrectly, but I am doing it. In some instances I think I even have people fooled that I am not an American, until they respond so quickly and I have only have half a clue as to what they said. Oh well. Considering it is only day one, I think by the end of my vacation I'll be speaking more fluently. In shallah. Which reminds me, I responded to one gentleman in Kurdish. There have been a couple of phrases that pop up in my head in Arabic that I then translate to French. Too many languages!!
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