Comme ci, Comme ça

5 March 2010 – Friday

It has been one week today since I arrived in Paris. And, Ohh lala!, I love Paris!

When I arrived last Friday I was so tired from all my traveling. Thursday morning, we drove nearly 5 hours from baton Rouge to the airport in Houston. My flight from Houston to Paris left at around 4:20pm and arrived in a little after 8am Friday morning (Paris time). The flight itself was nearly 10 hours long, and I couldn’t sleep at all. Boy, was I tired when I arrived!

I didn’t want to sleep upon first arriving. I had heard that napping isn’t good for adjusting to jet-lag and new time zones. Instead I wanted to stay up to closer to a normal bed time.

Instead of napping, Isabelle took me to Paris. She showed me the Galeries Lafayette with its beautiful stained glass ceiling. Then we went to the Opéra, where I fell flat on my face! We had purchased our 2 tickets and where entering the museum where there are 3 or 4 steps of marble going up. I don’t know where my ming was (asleep perhaps), but I didn’t see the steps and fell straight forward! I have had a nice bruised-up, swollen shin since then.

After I picked myself up and gather the contents of my purse from the floor, we roamed around the Opéra. I was probably too tired to fully enjoy it or appreciate it. However, it was very grand and have many passages. I was able to capture a few photos in my dazed state.

We had made our way through the Opéra and were back out on the streets of grey Paris. Isabelle said she knew of a place that served coffee for free. This is where we went next. It was more like product demonstration than a cafe, and apparently Isabelle wasn’t the only one who knew of it.

We had our espresso and piece of chocolate and headed back out. There was one more place she wanted to go (and the reason she wanted to go to Paris). A store, not too far from where we were, was having a sale on linens and perhaps some other things, but linens is what she was after.

We then headed home. I think I dozed off with my head back, eyes closed, and mouth agape! How embarrassing.

I went to bed shortly after dinner and got my much needed sleep.

Saturday was pretty uneventful. I got up about 9, and Isabelle had left some toast and juice out for me. Everyday from after breakfast until just before lunch, she cleans the house, or washes the car, or does laundry. She is always cleaning something in the morning. I often don’t see her until lunch time.

After lunch on Saturday, we went to the cinema where we watched the new Sherlock Holmes film in French. However, we both fell asleep during it.

We then proceeded home where she promptly began preparing dinner. I am that I don’t remember all the dishes that I have eaten. However, they were all good.

Sunday – JC was to arrive home on Sunday around noon. It was so windy that they would not open the doors of the airplane so everyone was stuck inside. Isabelle tried to wait for him for lunch, but it got too late. We ate and then left for Romain’s apartment in Versailles. We stayed there for a short time, and he served us some espresso. (All the coffee I have see so far has been espresso.)

We take our leave, say our au reviors, cheek-to-cheek-with-kissy-sounds, and we are back in the car. We were then on out way to Danielle’s apartment in Nanterre. The streets in France can be very confusing with all their round-abouts, but we made it eventually.

I don’t think I have seen Danielle since I was last Paris about 7 years ago. Her daughter Gwen, who lives with her, I had just seen about a month ago in New Orleans.

We stayed at Danielle’s for quite some time it seemed. Gwen’s boyfriend came while we were still there. We were all introduced. Apparently one stands until introduced but I was not aware of this custom. Introductions were made, and he proceeds out to the balcony to smoke a small cigar. Both of the ladies thought his was very odd…

We stayed until about 6pm. Then it was home, dinner, and then to bed.

Monday was the day I was to go to Paris by myself. Isabelle gave me 2 tickets for the RER. She drove me to the station, walked me down to the platform, and showed me what to do.

I was to meet Marie from OM (Operation Mobilization) at the metro station at Telegraphe. Isabelle wanted me to take the RER to the Nation exit and walk to the way to Telegraphe, thinking that the metro would be too complicated, I guess. instead, I got off at Chatelet, bought myself 2 metro tickets, and followed the signs for ligne 11 – which would take me to Telegraphe. Through many passages and moving sidewalks later, I arrive at the platform. Before I knew it I arrived at the Telegraphe station. However, the metro door didn’t open! By the time I had figured out how to open it, the train had begun moving. So I rode to the end of the line, got out, and found my way back to the platform going in the other direction, back to Telegraphe, where Marie was waiting for me. So I made it! Finally! and met Marie, who is a very nice lady from South Africa.

I got to sit in on her class where she teaches ladies how to read and write in French. They all speak very well (And too fast for me).

There was one lady who was there for the first time. She was a muslim woman from Tunisia. After the class was over, she told Marie how she was married and had 3-4 babies, and they all died as either infants or before. And because of this, her husband left her. I guess he thought she wasn’t useful if she couldn’t give him children. Now she has been in Paris for about 7 years, and desires to learn to read and write.

What a way to end my first day with OM!

After the class, I took the metro back to Chatelet, and got off and just walked around.

Theater de la Ville

I crossed the River Seine and walked to Notre Dame. I walked about for a little while and had a seat at a fountain which looks onto the Theatre de la Ville. I sat and watched the people for a moment. Then I went back down into the station, found my RER line A to Cergy. I made sure I got on the right one going to Neuville-Universite.  (Isabelle was worried I would take the wrong one.) I phoned her when I arrived and she picked me up about 5-10min later.

At home, the 3 of us had dinner, then I went to bed.

Tuesday – After Isabelle did her cleaning and we had lunch, she took me to Paris. She wanted me to see the city from its highest tower – Tour Monparnasse. We bought our tickets to go up (10.50E), and went into an elevator only for visitors. We went up to the 56th floor. We walked through the door, handed the man our tickets, and on passing though the roped area, they immediately wanted to take our picture (for a small fee, I’m sure). “No, Non” we said, and proceeded to the windows with the wonderful views of Paris. She pointed out all the famous places for me with the help of the lighted maps stationed at each window. Also in this room was a cafe or eatery, and a gift shop.

We walked to each window and admired this great city. We then sat to watch a video showing most of the landmarks up close. The video ended and we found the stairs that go up to the rooftop. It is all open up there. And what a view! I was able to snap a few photos here as well.

View from Monparnasse

After the Tour Monparnasse, we walked around a way. She said that she would like to stop at a back to get some money so we can have a cafe at a cafe. It seemed it was ages before we saw another ATM, and even longer until we found a cafe that had an empty table outside.

…to be continued…

My first day in Paris! What a day! After spending 5 hours in the car driving to Houston, I got to spend 9+ lovely hours on a plane. I have to say that I have had pleasanter flights.

The AirFrance plane has three rows of seating, two along the sides and one in the middle, with three seats to each row. I had my own little window seat; the seat beside me was empty, and a man – I was never able to determine if he was French of American as he never spoke – sat in the aisle seat. He spoke nothing that I could hear; however, the flight attendants always knew what he wanted to drink, eat, etc. He covered himself up with his complimentary blanket upon taking his seat. When preparing for take-off and the attendants were checking seat belts, this fella had his covered up by his blanket, which he had curled up to about mid-chest, and he began to dose off. When the attendant reached our row and saw him sleeping with his blanket, she very gently lifted an edge of the blanket to peek in to make sure that he did indeed have his seat belt fastened. This woke the man up and he looked at her with a What-Do-You-Thinking-You’re-Doing-Lady look.

Hilarious! I laughed a little on the inside.

After my dinner of boeuf bourguignon, the window shades went down and the lights went out. Apparently, it was time to sleep. I tried and tried. I was all set to sleep with my AirFrance pillow and sleep mask. I found a comfortable position. And then I felt something on the back of my right arm, which was on the arm rest and against the window/wall of the plane. It felt like someone was touching me. I disregarded it the first couple of times. I told myself that I was just ‘feeling things’. Eventually the time came to change positions and I looked down where my arm was and at the end of the arm rest was a foot with wiggly toes. I don’t know how he managed it, but the young man behind me had his shoe-less feet propped up on my arm rest. Besides that little nuisance, he kept banging the back of my seat with kicks and bumps and shakes. Frustration began to build up in me and I wanted to pop over the seat and smack him one. Then I thought that that may not be a good witness to the God who has called me. The nuisance continued, I didn’t get any sleep, and the boy remained unsmacked.

When I boarded the plane, I wasn’t allowed to take on my guitar as it is too big to fit in their tiny overhead bins, and they took it from me when I boarded the plane. Well, the plane finally landed after what seemed to be a lifetime! When deboarding the plane, I wondered where I was to pick up my guitar since I was given no instruction. I was, however, given a checked-baggage tag for it. So I began following the BAGGAGE/SORTIE signs, which brought me down a corridor, down an escalator, to a subway-like train. I hopped on another escalator, down another corridor, through the gated-maze at Passport Control, through another corridor, and another escalator (i think). And FINALLY baggage belt carousels! I got there just in time to meet my two pieces of luggage as they came out of the whole in the wall. I waited and waited, but no guitar. I begin to walk around to find the baggage services. I tell the lady my situation and mention its a guitar and she says “OH a guitar. that’s not going to come on the belt.” Like everyone knows that, right? It apparently goes to an oversized baggage spot sectioned off with yellow tape on the floor. I wait wondering if something bad happened, and then there comes a gal carrying my guitar to baggage services. What a relief! It’s here! But it didn’t even go to the oversized baggage area. Charles de Gaulle, I’m so confused.

After getting my guitar and luggage situated, I had to figure out how to get out of this place. I knew Isabelle was waiting for me outside of Customs. I decided to follow a the example of fellow traveler and followed behind him through a couple of doors. After the second one there she was waiting for me! WHEW! What a long trip with no sleep.

After arriving at her house, I had a chance to relax and shower. 11:30 came and she made us a little lunch of sausage and butter noodles, plus a little cheese for after. When finished with her meal, she sat in the living room and had one cigarette with an espresso. Oh, how French! I only had an expresso with no cigarette

It should be stated that JC and Isabelle (my uncle and aunt) live about 45 minutes from the heart of Paris. Isabelle stated that she needed to go to Paris this afternoon and invited me with her. Of course I went! While in Paris she wanted to show me the Gallerie Lafayette, which is a department store of sorts. It was built, she said, around the beginning of the 20th century and has magnificent detail and stained glass. We get to Paris and are drivign around, and she goes down this tunnel, very steep, down-grading tunnel that twirls into the ground. I didn’t know where the heck we were going, only to find out that it was a parking garage. What craziness!

Galeries Lafayette

After we walked through the Galerie Lafayette and had another espresso, this time with a piece of chocolate, we headed to the Opéra, which is both a functioning opera house and a museum. After we paid admission to the self-guided tour, we were walking along and Bethany wasn’t paying very much attention (I blame it on the invisibility of the marble’s coloring); instead of going up the stairs like normal people, Bethany was walking along as if they were even there and fell flat on her face and hitting her knee on the 200+ year old marble. I have a lovely knot and bruise now.

After the Opéra, I followed Isabelle to the store she needed to go to and then we headed back home. During the car ride I was so tired I couldn’t even keep my eyes open. At some point my head went back, my eyes closed, and my mouth was gaping! Oh goodness. I need some sleep.

We arrived back home in Cergy and here I am. My first day in Paris.

It is now 42 hours until my departure to Paris! I can’t believe after these long 2 years that it is finally here! It seems almost surreal and yet overwhelming. For a couple of days I couldn’t even look at my suitcase without getting knots in my stomach. Many people have asked if I am scared, and I have to say that I am not scared because I know that the Lord is already there. He is the one who has called me there and He is the one who calms all my fears. However, I have anxiety like one has when starting a new job. It’s like starting a new adventure, a new chapter in my life.

Thank you for all you prayer and support over the last couple of years as I pursued this. Please continue to pray while I am there. Over the last few weeks as this trip approached, I have had some physical pain. My back has gone out a couple of times over the last few months, and it did it again two weeks ago. However, I believe these to be attacks of the enemy; he’s trying to get me down. He knows how much walking I’ll be doing. Pray for health, well-being, and against thwarts of the devil! Please, also pray that the people I come in contact with are receptive and that I am able to build some good relationships.

In addition, please pray for the father of Rob Plaster (the missionary I’ll be working with). He is very ill and has been in the hospital in Indiana for several weeks. The doctors aren’t able to get a proper diagnosis.

In closing, I would like to share a few words from Oswald Chambers. I would also like to thank you again for all your continued prayer and support.

ARE YOU READY TO BE OFFERED?

Yea, and if I be offered upon the sacrifice and service
of your faith, I joy and rejoice with you all.

Philippians 2:17

http://www.SearchGodsWord.org/desk/?query=php+2:17&sr=1

Are you willing to be offered for the work of the faithful – to pour
out your life blood as a libation on the sacrifice of the faith of
others? Or do you say – “I am not going to be offered up just yet, I
do not want God to choose my work. I want to choose the scenery of my
own sacrifice; I want to have the right kind of people watching and
saying, ‘Well done.’

It is one thing to go on the lonely way with dignified heroism, but
quite another thing if the line mapped out for you by God means being
a door-mat under other people’s feet. Suppose God wants to teach you
to say, “I know how to be abased” – are you ready to be offered up
like that? Are you ready to be not so much as a drop in a bucket – to
be so hopelessly insignificant that you are never thought of again in
connection with the life you served? Are you willing to spend and be
spent; not seeking to be ministered unto, but to minister? Some
saints cannot do menial work and remain saints because it is beneath
their dignity.