Day Fifteen: "You come to France and you don't know French?"

Ladies and gentlemen, we have a serious problem.

Today, I woke up at noon. NOON! What is wrong with me? I think the last time I slept that long was in high school. Despite the fact that I had already wasted 3 hours of daylight, I was determined to make the most of it. And that I did.

Today, at least for me, was the best day I have had here yet. Nothing extraordinary but simply all around enjoyable. The weather was immaculate. 50 degrees Fahrenheit and clear blue skies—something that does not occur often during the winter months in Paris.

 

On my way to travels today...I'm not complaining...

I decided to go to church today. The American Church in Paris actually. I also decided it would be a good idea to walk there. Google maps said it would take me 55 minutes. I really didn’t think it would take that long. Obviously Google was lying to me. Wrong. It was 100% true. It took me exactly 55 minutes. When I saw the church in the distance I was ready to scream with excitement.

The walk was well worth it though. Going to church was just what I needed. We started off singing Revelation Song and I immediately felt at home. The pastor was great too. He was really down to earth. He was wearing jeans—which is totally normal in my church at home. But the backdrop was a set of pipe organs, a high dome ceiling with complicated woodworkings, and beautiful stain glass windows. The church itself was stunning. Anyway, the message was on John 1:29-42.

  PS. This is the church where Martin Luther King preached at after he won the Nobel Prize. Perfect timing considering tomorrow is Martin Luther King day.

After church I met up with my roommates at the D’Orsay Museum. While I was there a guy asked me a question in French.

Let me just say though…I get asked questions by the French ALL THE TIME. No one else does. Just me. They ask me where things are, try to have conversations with me, ask me for help, etc. My roommates joke about it. I'm the only one who has no background at all with French. We conclude that I must look like I know the answers, or I must seem really approachable. Ironic. In America everyone says how I am unapproachable? Regardless, after I stared at him blankly and shrugged my shoulders. Our conversation went a little like this...

Him: “You do not understand?”

Me: “No, sorry.”

Him: “You are American?”

Me: “Yes.”

Him: “You come to France and you don’t know French.”

Me: “Yep. Just a littles I wish I knew how to speak the language.”

Me (What I actually wanted to say): “Yes. That is exactly what I did. Thank you for pointing out the fact that I sound like a complete idiot here. I apologize that my school’s fashion trip was not to Spain or a South American country where I could speak Spanish. I apologize that my education system did not teach me every language of the world. I am trying here!”

 --Needed to vent that--

I think he felt a little bad after that. Because then he kept trying to make conversation asking me where I was from in America, what the main cities of Pennsylvania are, if I had even been to Washington D.C., and he also helped direct us to where we wanted to go on the Metro. Lesson learned though, next time I come to France for more than a week—I’m doing Rosetta Stone.

After this we went on a walking tour. It was free and consisted of small, interesting group to say the least. The guide really knew a lot about the history though and I learned so much. We went through the Marais district too, which is the Jewish district. Most of France is closed on Sundays but the Marais district is not. The streets were packed and also beautiful. It was interesting to hear the history of the Jewish culture is Paris. I’m doing my presentation for one of my classes here on WWII in Paris, and the Jewish culture was significantly impacted by it. I’m happy to have some more substantial things to share with my class that no online research could tell me.

A few tour pictures. Remember, the tour was more historical than picturesque.

 Marais District. The streets were narrow & the lighting gave the neighborhood beautiful ambiance.

Above is The Bastille-Reminded me of A Tale of Two Cities.

Thank you 11th Grade English.

By now we had been walking for about 6 hrs of the days and we were starving. I got a chicken club, "sans bacon e sans mayo". The waiter informed me it would not taste good (in French of course). My response "oui". I still wanted it! I like my food plain. A smile spread across my face once again when we came across Starbucks on the way home. YAY! My love. 

Now I am exhausted and my feet are KILLING ME.

 I cannot wait to sleep!