So this day was the first day of class and let me just say I learned a lot of lessons today.
1. Don't give money to Gypsy ladies
2. Plan on getting lost - really really lost
3. It's ok to make mistakes
So because Hayley and I live out in the banlieu we have to commute into Paris which means a 10 minute walk to the station, a 20 minute ride on the suburb train to Paris and then another 30 minutes on the metro. And we had never made this trip before. Using the map our host frère had made us we managed to get our way to the station and on the right train. Then we transitioned to the right metro line. Then when we got off at the stop was when we started getting lost. That's because most metro stations have several entrances/exits from several streets next to them and we didn't know which street was closest to our school. We tried to look at a map for a second and a woman even came up and tried to help us (proof that the French aren't rude at all and actually very nice!) but we only knew the name that our school was on and nothing else. Thus, we began to walk around hoping to stumble into the street...which didn't happen, but we did find a map. Following the map's instructions we got to the street our school was supposed to be on - but the numbers only went up to 5-6 and our school was number 8. This is when the wandering began to happen - which is when the trouble with Gypsies began. Here's the thing. Paris is notorious for pickpockets - in fact it's often called the pickpocket capital of the world (though I don't know if that's true or not). Regardless, we had been warned to watch our bags at all times and not let anyone get too close. What I didn't realize is how many beggars Paris would have. Tons. Lots. This is when our French training should have kicked in. Real Parisiens don't look at anything when they walk down the street and don't smile at anyone, they're focused on their destination, confidant, kinda like New Yorkers. However, when you're a lost American girl whose been wandering the same street for the past 20 minutes you're easy pickins and my French training did not kick in.
So we're walking this same stretch of street again for about the fifth time when these two girls approach me with a clipboard. The paper says something about an institute for deaf women. I think they want me to sign a petition. They don't. Only after I had written down my name did I realize...it's a donation sheet. I tried to hand it back to the woman and she pointed out the donation box (with mime-like expressions, remember she's deaf) Shoot! Now what am I supposed to do? Just deny the deaf money and barge past them? So I start looking in my wallet and realize I only have larger bills because of the ATM. The smallest bill I do have? 10 euros. (For those of you who don't speak euros, just know its more than 10 dollars) I hand it to the woman - she points out a note that says minimum donation is 20. I think no way in the world am I giving twenty euros. I say it's all I got and with many air blown kisses and nods of gratitude she leaves. Meanwhile a man walks up behind me and says in broken and heavily accented French "No, no, pick-pocket, pick-pocket". Which is when I realize that instead of donating to the deaf women's foundation, I donated to the stupid American tourist foundation. So yes, I just gave over $10 away to a con. On day one. Not the greatest start. Needless to say I was frustrated most of the morning But Kiana, you ask, were you all alone, was there no one to help you out? To which I respond, oh no - my roommate continued walking once I was stopped by gypsies and never turned back to help me - so much for no man left behind. So eventually after we asked directions we found that the street continued on the other side of the road and we found our class.
After a couple of hours in class one of the professors told us they would be taking us to Notre Dame! This is when I learned another cool French tip. The French will sometimes just barge their way to the front of a line and act as though they didn't see it. They don't like to wait in line (like everyone else) so they'll just go all the way to the front and if no one calls them out on it...they skip the line. So before we went Madame told us that we were going to do the same and if anyone said anything to us we were to tell them "Je vais prier" (I'm going to pray).
Afterward we went to a museum on medieval art/history called the Musée de Cluny. And honestly, once you've looked at a few Middle Aged art pieces, you've looked at them all. It was amazing to see things that old but I think without specific knowledge, the meaning was lost. Plus, most of medieval art consists of either halo-d saints or gruesome depictions of the crucifixion. I'd prefer not to see Christ's death over and over again. But perhaps that's just me. Here are some of the cooler artifacts I saw:
Anyway after all that I was so tired that I was ready to go back home and rest for a short bit before having diner with our host family but the rest of the girls wanted to stay in Paris and shop around. So I caught the metro all by myself and the RER. Then for the second time that day: got lost. I simply could not remember the right way to get home. It wasn't a simply question of right or left turns. The tricky part is that on our route there are TWO (2!) round abouts, each with about 6 streets and I couldn't remember the right ones! So I ended up walking down most of them for a while and then turning around and walking down another street. In total I walked around the neighborhood for an hour. What should have been a ten minute walk became much longer. It was certainly frustrating, especially considering how the day started, but also along the way it gave me time to think.
Thinking about that day and on everything that had happened I realized that life is all about making mistakes. I think I forget that sometimes because I focus so hard on avoiding them. I plan out days, weeks, years in advance so that I can do things according to a plan and not mess up. In fact, I think I hate making mistakes. I mean no one likes it, but often artists will simply say that they didn't make a mistake in a painting they just started going a different direction than originally planned. But for me, I'm all about minimizing the risk of mistake. But that day? I had made plenty of errors. And that's ok. Life is all about learning. We learn from our mistakes. We grow. We change. We adapt. I'll promise you this - I have never since been lost on the route home! A couple of blog posts ago I talked about the Atonement and I think this is a similar topic. I'm not necessarily talking about mistakes as in sins but just mistakes in life. Try some food that you don't like, take a couple of wrong turns trying to find a new place, color outside the lines! And make a couple of mistakes. Remember it's not just ok to make mistakes, but it's natural, it's life! If you're not making mistakes, you're not really making mistakes. I'm only human and that means that sometimes I'm going to goof up on a couple of things and take the long way to my new home - but it sure did take me down some beautiful streets along the way :)
Nice. Thanks for sharing.
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