Le décalage horaire

Le lundi 4 juin

I woke up at about 5:30 am to visit the downstairs coffee machine in the rez-de-chaussee of Citadines.  What does a Parisienne wear downstairs in the morning when she might be seen?  I wore a grey pajama dress, my black leather flats and a grey cardigan.  ← Looking back, perhaps I took the “effortless” of Parisian womens’ effortless elegance a little too literally.  Sadly, the coffee machine wasn’t working and so I settled for green tea and hot water. 

A few hours later when the city was waking up, I went back downstairs to find the coffee machine still not working. More tea it is! I grabbed a copy of Le Figaro and Le Monde and flipped through the titles.  In France there is a big discussion happening currently over whether separate schools for boys and girls are equal; a lot of parents are in favor of la non-mixitié and argue that it increases young girls’ confidence when they aren’t in class with male peers.  The news is also talking about school uniforms being reinstated in some regions. I feel ambivalent about these issues - as a teacher, I can see pros and cons to both.  I just don’t know if the US would be able to enforce these rules in the same way France does.  I should also mention that the French news is talking about Trump’s talks with Kim Jong-un.  What the United States does impacts all countries. 

I am a coffee addict and was needing mon petit déj, so I walked across the street from Citadines to see if the boulangerie I used to frequent ten years ago was still in the same spot.  It was.  The boulangerie is called Boulangerie Huré.  There, I ordered a pain au chocolat et un crѐme. I sat and ate quietly inside the small shop. I want back to the room for something and fell asleep for a whopping 8 hours.  Talk about jet lag to the max!

I awoke in the evening, and the weather was too pleasant to let it pass.  I got on the metro and navigated the line’s transfer transfer until I ended up in Saint Germain and walked to the entrance of Jardin du Luxembourg.  There, I found a comfy spot in a chair and, amongst other singletons who were doing the same thing, I wrote in my journal and listened to the sounds of the birds in the trees and the drone of the man nearby who was talking to a loved one on the phone.  In this setting, his talking on the phone wasn’t annoying or invasive, it seemed natural. 

That evening, I headed to Market, a market in the centre commercial next to the hotel on the bottom level.  I wanted to cook in my kitchenette and was craving freshness.  I filled my basket with some of the European cuisine essentials - des citrons (lemons), de la salade (lettuce), des tomates, du miel (honey), de la brie, du poivre et sel (salt and pepper), and de l’huile d’olive (olive oil).  Oh, and some fraises (strawberries) for dessert. I made sure to weigh my tomatoes and print out the sticker indicating the price to place on the vegetable bag.  I didn’t do this 8 or 9 years ago when I was last here and I remember the employee huffing as she got out of her seat behind the scanner to go weigh whatever produce I was trying to buy in the back of the store. The line of people behind me waited politely but were probably annoyed at the naiveté of the American. 

This time, nearly ten years later, I decided to try the self check-out.  There was no line when I approached the station, but of course when it was my turn, the machine that opened up was the one directly in front of a long line of people that seemed to have magically appeared in the last few seconds to watch me as I fumbled through the French options on the screen.  The attendant had to come by to clear my screen not once, but twice.  When I asked him why it had erred, he said “Je ne sais pas” and kept moving on looking over the other machines. I made it through, paid, couldn’t find la fente for le billet, waited for the attendant to help me, and then finally filled my canvas bag with my goods before going back to the room to prepare my dinner. Phew!

For dessert, I ate pieces of a ficelle (mini-baguette) with brie and honey and strawberry between bites to cleanse the palette.  J’ai de la chance.  Je suis reconnaissante. 

Alana