The Good, The Bad and The Ugly

Apologies for the brief absence, dear friends, but much has happened over the past few days that have kept me from updating this here bloggy-blog.  I know you're itching with curiosity, so I'll elaborate...

The Good

I am pleased to report that the last few days have brought some truly delightful pleasures to AH and I.  For example yesterday at the metro station, while AH was purchasing our tickets, he was approached by a young boy who, seeing that Jonathan had chosen the English language option on the ticket machine, asked, "parles vous anglais?" (do you speak english?).  AH replied, "Oui."  The little boy then proceeded to stay close by AH's side, watching him use the ticket machine, like he had never seen such a thing.  At the end, when the machine spit out our tickets, the little boy looked at us and said, "C'est magic!".  Endearing does not begin to cover it.
           Another favorite moment of the last few days happened last night in the Antony (a slightly hipper, more lively suburb of Paris that AH and I were checking out as a potential permanent neighborhood).  Our wanderings brought us to a Greek place where our accents prompted the men working there to ask where we're from.  We said, "America," and they told us they were happy to have us.  AH and I sit down to eat our meals, while the television in the restaurant blares headlines about the unrest in Tunisia.  In between shots of protesters and interviews, a McDonald's commercial comes on.  Oh, not just any McDonald's commercial, but one involving a farmer driving a tractor with a chicken on his shoulder.  Just as I'm beginning not to blame the French for ruing Anglo intrusion on their culture (McDonald's and tabloids about trashy American starlets seem to be our major presence here), the Greeks laugh and look at us, saying, "Eh, American!  American!".  AH and I shake our heads, and join the laughter- what else can you do?
          Perhaps the most glorious of all was today, which I will go ahead and declare my first true day in Paris.  Last week I was jet-lagged and ravenous, and therefore unable to appreciate what I beautiful city I'm now lucky enough to be merely a train ride away from.  But today brought AH and I to the American Church in Paris, which just happens to be mere blocks away from the Eiffel Tower.  It also happens to be near a wonderful cafe that serves the most heavenly fresh salad of greens and warm potatoes with fresh goat cheese sprinkled with rosemary and drizzled with honey.  And yes, it was a good as it sounds.  The weather was clear and warm, and AH and I got to wander around the Eiffel Tower holding hands.  I can't help but think that this is the Paris I've been waiting to experience.
          We even got the chance to witness a bit of that French spirit of civic resistance.  As we wandered through the park near the Eiffel Tower, we noticed a gathering of protesters near a rather modern looking peace monument.  Thinking that they surely must be bringing attention to the events in Tunisia, I came in closer to read their signs.  "Justice pour Michael."  Who is Michael, I wonder, a political prisoner?  A martyr to some cause?  No.  It is Michael Jackson.  This group of protesters wanted to make sure that Conrad Murray is held responsible for the death of a man who was self-destructing 20 years before his death.  Of all the injustices happening in the world, these people are defending a celebrity who's already dead.  I have to say, it's nice to go through life here knowing that the French, too, are saddled with their share of silly and delusional sops.