Illustration by Vaida Sirusaite
Yesterday was Friday, December 21, 2012....
Do you know what this meant to me?
An extremely important day...
It meant one thing and one thing only: I start vacation! At 5:30 pm Paris time to be exact. Do you want to know how pumped I am? I doing doing my own version of the Gangnam Style dance, that's exactly how excited I am that I will be off for two weeks. Yesterday was supposed to be the end of the world, but I refuse to accept that malarkey. Yesterday was the official day that the holidays start! Who's with me?
I am truly looking forward to a little break from my kids who have been passing colds and creepy crawly germs back and forth to each other for about a month. I may no longer have the flu, but I'm still coughing and blowing my nose. A full two weeks away from them for full recovery is exactly what I need.
My vacation can't just start without something happening. On Thursday, something really freaky went down. Before we get into that, allow me to set the scene for you. On Thursdays, I do an after-school tutoring program for four of my kids who are not related, but live in the same area. I pick them up at their school and I basically play school in the play rooms (complete with a little chalkboard for me!) of their huge apartments. Parents here are really serious about getting their kids to speak English at an early age, especially the more affluent families.
I pick the tots up at their school around the corner and bring them home. Basically it's glorified baby-sitting but hey, I'm getting paid. As we were walking down the street hand-in-hand, we passed a Franprix that was completely in the dark with customers still inside and the door open. As we continued down the street, we learned that the entire block had lost electricity. Shop owners and staff from the local offices were all out on the sidewalk shrugging to each other and lighting their cigarettes. Stay calm and light up always seems to be the French way. Whatever works, I say.
I wasn't terribly concerned that the power was out because we still had another hour of light should our building be included in the mini black-out. My nonchalance quickly dissolved when we arrived. I hadn't noticed it before, but the building where I teach my Thursday kids is probably the first building that I have been to in Paris without windows in the hallway.
This was going to be fun.
Have you ever walked four three year old kids up six flights of spiral stairs in pitch black darkness? That's an experience I do not wish on anyone. To add to the trepidation of the situation, the looney who lives on the second floor who calls me "Miss America" decided to open his door and "for fun" started growling and evil laughing at us. Sir! If I was terrified, you can imagine how my kids were handling their real-life version of a carnival spooky house. Within seconds (because kids take a second or two to process things) pandemonium broke out. They all started screaming, some started crying, and some were just plain bored. If you remember precious Franc who I sent into time-out a few weeks ago, who took this as an opportunity to destroy our Christmas projects and slid them under the door for me to see? Well he couldn't be bothered with the state of hysteria that was taking place in the hallway.
"Oh là là, it's not worth saying both Mama and Papa!" Franc let little Thomas know who was wailing that he wanted his parents, "Just say mama. If your parents communicate well, she'll obviously tell your papa that you were scared." This enraged Thomas even more, encouraging him to scream louder. Once again, thank you Franc.
We got to the door and of course it was the wrong one. Somewhere between the howling Hannibal neighbor, Franc's comment and not being able to see, I had lost count of the floors. I wasn't sure if we had gone too far or we needed to go up another flight. My cellphone didn't provide much light with its dim pink screen, but it was just enough to highlight the plaque informing us that we had one more floor to go.
After feeling for the keyhole, then the correct key on my 4 pound keychain, then turning the key just so because the door gets stuck sometimes (of course it does), we were in the apartment. Finally!
Opening the apartment door didn't offer much relief. Because it took so long to get in, it was already dark out and only the street lights were illuminated the spacious hardwood floor living room.
Good grief!
Sometimes I wonder just exactly I would have thought before I moved here, if I was able to see into the future; a snippet of some of the scenes of my French life.
Eating framboise apple sauce squeezers (cleverly named "Pom'Potes" here) and madeleines goutés in a dark apartment on a couch that probably cost a year salary, with French kids who thought just because there were no lights, they can say they word fart and poop over and over, was not exactly what I had in mind for my new Parisian life. I love the unexpected twists and turns that is this life. Minus the creepy neighbor, this is what I love about living in Paris...everyday still is such an adventure.
Bonnes Vacances!
