Lost and Found

Lost

As I mentioned in one of my posts from Warsaw, I bought an umbrella there. It was inexpensive but quite nice. Navy blue, full-size, rubberized handle (the hook kind--essential for ease of carrying) and sturdy but not too heavy. I used it in Vienna and even in my four hours in Munich. I did wonder when, exactly, I was going to lose the umbrella because it didn't fit into my luggage and I kept sticking it into overhead bins in train compartments near but not attached to any of my other possessions. Still, as I got into the train at Stuttgart, where I had my last transfer, it was still with me.

However, when I got off the metro at my stop in Paris, I did not have the umbrella. I'd left it on the train, finally, after arriving in Paris. I even remembered taking it down from the overhead rack and putting it in between two seats. And there it remained.

I resolved to go back to the station the next day and see if I could find it. Heck, even though I have two (!) umbrellas in Paris, I don't have a full size one and I'm sure it will come in handy.

Bright and early on Tuesday morning (ha ha ha ha), I made my way to Gare de l'Est. I asked (in French) at the info both where the lost and found was (I said, "I lost something" and she knew what I wanted). She sent me downstairs and almost without having to ask, the staff knew what I wanted. Again, the transaction was entirely in French.

"What did you lose?"

"An umbrella."

"What kind?"

"Excuse me?" I hadn't understood her.

"What kind of umbrella?"

"Oh. Blue, large…" I held my hands a couple of feet apart.

"Yes. We have it. Nine euros."

"What?"

"Nine euros."

My umbrella was being held hostage for nine euros. The umbrella cost approximately three euros. I was angry. I walked away, muttering in English, about how ridiculous it was. I turned around to look back at them and a man working there gestured to me to return. He tried to explain, unsuccessfully, why they had to charge. But, I'm sorry, I won't pay nine dollars to retrieve something from the lost and found! It's not like they had to ship the damn thing anywhere. Clearly, at the end of the line, they sweep the train of all left items and bring them to some central spot. Of course, if it had been my luggage or something of value, I would have paid, but I sure would have been pissed off. Given that I have two umbrellas in my possession in Paris, I was able to walk away and not pay on principle. But, can you imagine having your valuables held hostage in such a way? Wow.

Found

The rest of the day was kind of a blur. I took the bus home and appreciated the scenery. The light in Paris is amazing--it's a shame I'm not a painter. It was a little cloudy on Tuesday and the play of the shadows on the buildings--well, it's just like in every (well-shot) film you've ever seen of Paris, almost ethereal.

I was relieved to be back in Paris where French is spoken--a language I at least partially understand. Imagine! I wouldn't have guessed that I would have missed hearing and speaking French, given my minimal competence. But minimal is more than zero and it's good to be able to make myself understood without too much trouble.

By the end of my first day back, I had heard from A. and no one else. This left me surprised and sad. A.? Really? I keep thinking things are over with him and he keeps popping up. The text I sent was the least communicative possible, simply, "I'm back. Had a great trip. Hope you're well." He IM'd me later and we got together that evening, though briefly. It was good to see him but I'll wait for him to make the next move (famous last words).

Oh, and I told him the story about my stolen credit card and he was extremely amused by the prosaic nature of the thief's purchases. (Also, it turns out that what I thought was a purchase of lottery tickets was actually another a small grocery store! This thief spent a lot of money on food.) He said, "Why didn't they just go to FNAC [a book/music/electronics store--people pronounce it F-knack] and load up on iPods?"  Why indeed! He also said, "Someone should write that story. That would make good idea for a novel."

I said, "Yeah. Maybe I'll get around to that someday."

"Oh? You want to write a novel?"

"Well, in theory…" All I need is an idea and some motivation and I'll be right on that. And how did we not discuss this before? "...actually, I did write about it already…"

"You did? Where?"

"On my blog?"

"You have a blog?" Whoops. I KNOW I mentioned the blog to him. Apparently, what I took for indifference was simply inattention. I've wondered why he never asked me about it…now I know why.

"Yes! I told you. I know I told you." His response: completely blank expression followed by a look of bafflement. "That's why I even responded to your stupid craigslist thing! [His ad specifically mentioned reading blogs!]"

"Oh, well, oh…I, huh."

I told him a tiny bit about it…but mostly that I have several blogs, though most are static holding places for stories (the "worst dates" blog and the Peru and Israel travelogues). I didn't mention content but I think it was clear that I write about my personal experiences rather than some overarching them. He did not ask to see it and I did not volunteer the address. If he asks for it, well, I'll probably give it to him but here's hoping he doesn't. I'd rather not expose the full extent of my craziness to him--the amount he's seen so far is more than sufficient!

You know, now that I'm thinking about it, I told him that I had a blog during our initial email exchange! Ha. I do so like to be right. (I just read the piece of correspondence in question and I mentioned it in my second email! So, it wasn't that he was inattentive, he just doesn't remember everything like I do.) It's tempting to forward him that message but why would I do that? I'll just tell him the next time I see him, if I remember. Or, maybe I won't, since, ideally, he'll forget all about it again (though it's rather unlikely).

By the end of today, I'd heard back from everyone I contacted. Smile! Plus one more person who knew when I was getting back and took the initiative. I really was going to email him today…

A la carte

On Wednesday, I had to go to the doctor. Not the regular doctor (not even sure what that means), but the doctor who would approve me for the carte de sejour. This was the next to last step in a very long process. I was still a bit on the fence about the whole thing--was it worth paying? But I'd come so far and the appointment itself was free so I went.

I was a little worried about communicating in French but it was just fine. When I didn't completely understand words, I got the gestures and I stood where I was supposed to stand and waited where I was supposed to wait. They weighed and measured me and then stuck my finger to get my blood sugar. (Aside: I know they did this because of my weight. It made me think that it does a real disservice to "normal" weight people who may have diabetes and who don't get tested! Also, when I have blood work, I always score exactly in the desired range. I have high good and low bad cholesterol. My blood sugar is on the low side, but not too low. My blood pressure is normal, etc., etc. Aside from all my sports-related aches and pains, I'm ridiculously healthy and meet no criteria for diabetes EXCEPT being "overweight." Luckily, it's not enough to keep me out of France and the boys don't seem to mind.)

After the weighing, measuring and the sticking, I had to get a chest x-ray. I sat in a little ante-room and was told to get naked from the waist up and pile my hair on top of my head (good thing I was wearing it in a pony tail--thus I had a rubber band to do the job). No sheet or other covering was provided so I sat exposed and pretended that I was French and, thus, no big deal.

I was called into the x-ray room and unceremoniously pushed and shoved into a large, flat wall-like part of the machine. The techs, two women, said, "don't move!" (in English) before fleeing from the room and zapping me. When it was over, I dressed and went back to the main waiting area.

A man called my name next and it turns out he was the doctor. We spoke English. He asked me the usual medical history questions and I managed to tell him I had a hietal hernia and a sore knee and shoulder from past sports activities. Why not just keep these finer points to myself? Please talk to the honesty/oversharing gene--it actually seems to be out of my control. He'd seen the results from the blood sugar test, which were on the high end of the acceptable range because…I'd eaten breakfast. (Another aside: in one of the letters I received about the appointment, mention had been made of fasting. My read was that I didn't need to fast. Um, guess I got that one wrong.) The nurse said I should get it test again in six months, just to be safe. The doctor asked if I "was active in sports". I said yes! He said to keep up with the sports and that was the best thing to do. I have to say that even though the only reason they tested me was because of my weight at least they didn't tell me to lose weight. Interestingly, I've never gotten that lecture in the States either, mostly just questions about my activity level. When they find out I'm active, they drop it or encourage me to keep with it. I guess when you encounter someone with as robust and healthful appearance as I (good color, clear skin, strong teeth, good hair, etc.) and who has perfect health according to all the tests, you don't get a lecture about losing weight. Good thing, too, because I would not be amenable to hearing one.

After that, I was cleared to go and sent to the next office. The one where I had to pay. The lady there found my file and sent me to the Tabac around the corner to purchase the tax stamps (all 275 euros worth). So, I went. I felt committed at that point and I had the cash, so I just did it. I went back to the office with the stamps, waited awhile next to a very impatient man, who turned out to be a very frustrated man. He had some kind of argument with the two ladies working in this office and they seemed to blame the misunderstanding on a third colleague who wasn't present (isn't that always the way?). Finally, my lady caught sight of me and I handed her the stamps. She glued them on to the letter I'd received specifying the amount owed, stuck it in my file and handed me a laminated official looking "titre de sejour." Wow! Upon closer examination, it's actually "temporaire" but it'll do. I figure the permanent one will come a few days before I head back to the USA.

I'll admit to being a little impressed with myself for making it through the whole process, despite the quixotic nature of the enterprise. Was it worth paying for the experience? I'm not so sure about that, but I did it and I have to live with it. At least today, I don't have buyer's remorse, so that's something.

Trip

I'll fully update you on the last days of my trip tomorrow, but overall I had a great time. Berlin was fascinating. Spending time with Johanna was terrific. Meeting other folks in the hostels where I stayed was really fun and like revisiting my youth. In fact, since I was mistaken for a 28-year-old that's true in more ways than one. When the guys guessing my age saw I was flattered I was they revised upwards to 33 (I'd had a long talk with one of them and he did some math to come up with that). When I was still flattered, they reacted with astonishment: "how old can you be???" Very, very old, indeed. But, like I always say, my immaturity more than makes up for it. (For new readers and those that have forgotten, my current age is 39. And no, I'm not posting a picture so you can decide for yourself how youthful looking I actually am. Let's just say that I definitely look like I'm in my 30's and 35/6 would be a reasonable guess. But then again, so would my actual age!)

Last, I made one new friend while I was in Warsaw. We've stayed in touch by email over the last several days and he'll be coming to visit soon. Should be great fun.

Grateful for: home.

"Home"

I got back late last night after spending the entire day traveling. I spent most of today in a haze. I texted three people and only heard back from one of them, which made me sad. I actually have more people to contact--but I had to make the effort in stages.

The person I heard back from? A.! Who woulda thunk it? Not me, apparently.

I'll have more to say tomorrow (hopefully) about the end of my trip...and I might even post up some pictures this week.

Last I've hit some kind of milestone, because this is my 1,001 post on "Grateful Dating." Yowsa!

Grateful for: perseverance.

Now, Vienna

Oh boy, so much to write and so little motivation! First, I should say that Warsaw ended much better than it began. Not that it got warm it didn't rain the second day and I was grateful for that.

So, basically, Warsaw was a tour of Jewish historical sites. One synagogue, one exhibit in a historical society, a couple of monuments, the last remaining piece of wall from the ghetto, a street with some buildings that survived WWII (and now stand empty) and the Jewish cemetary. It sounds like a lot and it was (it was actually even more than I've listed). The first day was the hardest because I spent a lot of time going in circles since I hadn't yet gained my bearings. Maybe I should have sprung for the 150 euro tour--at the least it would have been more efficient. (Despite my vaguely lost ways I was asked for directions, by Poles, three separate times. Do I look Polish?)

My first night was a drag--the people at the hostel were silent and I was cold. The second evening was better. I came home and took a little rest. When I got up, I talked to some people in the common area and later I met one of my roommates. I went out for dinner and ate some decent Vietnamese-esque food. The next day, I rose early and it wasn't raining. I brought my umbrella anyway but never had to use it. After a couple more Jewish sites, I went to the Warsaw Rising museum--no, not the Warswa Ghetto Uprising--which was all about the battle between the Polish Home Army and the Germans in 1944. The home army lost and the Germans leveled Warsaw in revenge--that's why the center of town is a completely rebuilt near-replica of pre-1944 Warsaw (also, to my mind, the least interesting part of town). After trying to find a Milk Bar (cheap Soviet legacy restaurant) for lunch, I settled on a much more upscale guidebook recommended place. I liked it! On my walk to the aforementioned reconstructed part of Warsaw, I found an actual Milk Bar. Bad timing! After a bunch more walking, I did return and had some "pancakes with cottage cheese, sugar and butter" aka blintzes (nice Jewish food!) for a late afternoon snack. Yum. Price was right (3 zloty? Less?), atmosphere non-existant.

In part of my walk around town, I decided to take a look at the Vistula river. A very large and busy road runs along the river and to get to the sidewalk on the riverside, you have to use underground passages. (Actually, you have to use underground street-crossings in town to get across some of the major roads.) I went down some stairs, crossed under the road, went up some stairs, then I went down some more stairs to get to the river. Whew.

I walked back to the hostel, stopping first for a hot cocoa and later for the blintzes. On the way back, I picked up a sandwhich (kebab like) and planned to eat it in the common kitchen. When I got there, I recognized a guy I'd said hello to in the morning and I said hello to him again. We sat together--he drank coffee and I finished my sandwich. He asked me lots of questions and I did a lot of talking. I asked him questions too--he's from New Zealand and several months in an indefinitely long journey that may end with working for a while in the UK. We really hit it off. Unlike me, he's traveling with a friend (I am so unusual in this respect!), who stopped by while we were chatting and mentioned getting beers. Eventually he came back and reported that he and another fellow bought some beers and were drinking them in the tv room. I was invited to join them--and I did.

Since I'm getting tired and I have to pay to use this computer, I'll shorthand the rest of the story. I hung out for the rest of the evening with this small group of guys. We went to a bar then to a club--and we danced! It was great fun and I may even see them (at least the Kiwis) again in Paris, eventually.

I left for Vienna yesterday and after a very long train ride, I arrived safely. The hostel I'm staying in is nice and clean and the people are friendly. It rained today but instead of going to museums, I walked around (with my umbrella!) and found cafes to sit in where I wrote and read. Not a bad day. Tomorrow--either more of the same or maybe one museum. The number to choose from is overwhelming! On Monday, I head back to Paris--I'm ready for "home."

Grateful for: new friends.

Wretched

It's raining in Warsaw. And cold. Luckily, I bought a 9euro fleece in Berlin before I left so I'm not freezing. Today, because I took myself on a walking tour of historic Jewish sites (meaning I was outdoors most of the time), I bought a 10zloty umbrella. Not sure how much 10zlotys is but it's a damn sight less than 10euros or 10dollars.

I walked myself all around and I'm completely beat. The rain did seem somewhat appropriate to the completely depressing endeavor I set for myself...with the upshot being that I'm completely depressed. Sigh. People are waiting for this computer...more later.

Grateful for: common sense.

Goodbye Berlin

Today was my last day in Berlin. It's 11pm and I have to leave the house tomorrow by 10:30am and I still haven't packed so this will be short. I am not good at rushing the writing--please forgive my typos and syntax errors.

I went into the city again on my own today. I went up in the Reichstag dome, which is a glass-metal-spiral concoction. (Berlin seems to have a fascination with glass and spirals--or maybe that's just the architects working in Berlin.) The view was great and almost worth the hour-long wait to get in. So many tourists! Mostly German, but I also spotted at least three separated Israeli groups, Swedes, and French. (Did you know that the word for "France" in German is "Franksreich"? Does anyone else think that's odd?)

After the dome, I found an out-of-the-way spot for lunch and had the equivalent of a full French meal for under eight euros. It really is cheaper here. My next itinerary item was a boat tour along the Spree and one of the main canals. It lasted three hours! But, I always enjoy boat tours and this one was very interesting. Aside from being cold, it was certainly worth my time. I took a bunch more pictures (too many pictures!) and will get them up eventually. I did get a few of what I've taken so far loaded up on flickr, so you can pop over there if you can't wait for me to assembling something over here (and you know you'll be waiting a good long time for that!).

Tomorrow Warsaw! I can hardly wait. I tried to arrange a tour of some of the Jewish sights but the folks I contacted want 150 euros! Yikes. I think I'll figure something else out.

Oh, and last, this is crazy, but, apparently, sometime last week, before I left Paris, I lost my credit card. I didn't notice that it was gone but someone found it and went on a wild spending spree. They racked up almost $12,000 in charges in three days! Wow. Two grand at Ikea, another thousand at GapKids, and on an on--all in Paris. Eventually, I heard from the fraud department (after they contacted my renter, who contacted me--another international incident!) and I canceled the card. They've also credited back all the charges I didn't make, so I'm in good shape. Mostly, I laughed and remembered that episode of "Friends" where Monica tracked down the woman who had stolen her card and had so much fun with it. In this case, I'm having more fun than my credit card thief (I'm not spending $600 on frozen food at Picard, I'm going on boat rides in Berlin!), so I feel good about that.

Auf wiedersehen for now and I'll try and be in touch from Warsaw.

Grateful for: a sense of humor.

Berlin so far

First day: well, you already know that story. Enough said. (It turns out that while one of Johanna's sons did call her, she actually got my number from my father. Not quite as exciting that way, though.)

Second day: After a simple breakfast, Johanna and I go into Berlin. She gives me a walking tour of all the major sights in the center of town (Mitte) and a lot of history. Berlin is an amazing contrast to Paris--you have never seen so much new construction in your life! It's vibrant.

Third day: I go into Berlin on my own (after Johanna drives me to the train station). On Johanna's advice, I check out the Babylon exhibit at the Pergamon Museum. Amazing. After, I head slightly north to see the "New" Synagogue. It was built at the end of the 1800's with a big gold dome. It was active until 1938, when it was shut down and taken over by the Nazis and used as a supply depot. It was bombed and mostly destroyed in the war but it was partially reconstructed after the fall of the Berlin wall. The small permanent history exhibit is interesting and it made me sad.

Next, I walked to the nearby Alexanderplatz just to take a look. From there, I took the S-Bahn to the vicinity of the Ka De We, a ginormous department store, where I ate (a late) lunch. It has sort of an ultra-food court, with very good food prepared in a variety of styles. And then a full food shop where you can buy most of the ingredients. One feature of the food shop: more chocolate than wine. It's not France. (At lunch, I sat next to a man reading the International Herald Tribune. I thought about talking to him but I didn't.)

After KDW, I tried for another museum, the Neue Nationalgalerie, but the permanent exhibit was closed and they wanted ten euros for the temporary exhibit. I said no thanks. Instead, I went to the nearby Musikinstrumenten-Museum (Musical Instrument Museum). Fascinating, but, unfortunately, all in German.

On my walk back to the train station I passed the "Memorial for the Murdered European Jews" (aka Holocaust Memorial). Johanna and I had walked by it on Wednesday, but this time, I wandered among the non-symbolic columns trying to make sense of it (as a memorial). Columns of different heights at different angles are placed evenly on rolling terrain. I visited the underground center, which has a decent exhibit about the Holocaust. I have read a lot on the topic, so I didn't learn anything new, but it was well-presented. Again, I was sad. Since I was also tired, I called it a day.

Fourth day: Johanna and I drove to nearby Pottsdam, the historical home of the Prussian kings (and etc.). We walked through the grounds of San Souci and I learned a lot about Fredrich the Great. I didn't know! Very pretty with a lot of nice landscaping. Apparently, all the buildings were left to rot when it was part of East Germany, but the grounds were mostly maintained. Since unification a lot of money has gone into restoring the place but they're still working on it.

We ate lunch in the town and briefly toured a few of the other estates. Somehow, the day left us both completely exhausted. After a light supper, we were both down for the count by 9:30pm.

Fifth day (today): I was well rested and woke early in order to set out for another day on my own in Berlin. This time I started at the Bode Museum--and I can recommend it whole-heartedly if you have any interested in antiquities or religious art. It's a very well curated and displayed. I am familiar with the kinds of things on display but I still enjoyed it. The space is very pleasant and it's easy to navigate.

I'll admit, though, that the high point of my visit may have been when I looked out the window to the Spree River and saw boat after boat of rowers pass by. They weren't in any kind of shell I'd ever seen before, but they were mostly definitely sculling (two oars person, backwards-facing, sliding-track rowing). The rowers all looked at least my age or older and they were clearly recreating (rather than racing)--and dressed just like rowers would be dressed in the US. The boats were wider than the ones I've rowed in and all made from wood, though the oars looked like "regular" sculling oars. The coxswains had quite a lot of room and sometimes even a seat back to lean on! Awesome! I wished I could have gone down and hopped in one of the boats.

After seeing what I wanted to see at the Bode, I walked down to the Jewish Museum. (I took some pictures along the way, but I probably have to wait until I get back to upload them). I spent much more time there than I'd expected to, since I actually really liked it. It wasn't a Holocaust Museum, but rather dealt with the history of the Jews in Europe. It could have been better, but it was interesting. What I found most fascinating were the parts dealing with the life of Jews in Germany (and elsewhere) after World War II. I could have used a lot more of those stories.

It was after 5pm when I left and I still hadn't managed to have a decent lunch (I picked up a bockwurst on the walk). I hopped on a bus to get back closer to the center and found myself near to the KaDeWe again (the bus took a somewhat unexpected route). I wasn't planning to go in and stopped for fries in the adjacent square instead. Then I thought I should get a bottle of wine for Johanna, so I ventured in. It was packed! Even so, I found what I needed and got out in about half an hour.

So far in Berlin I'd taken a bus, a tram and the S-Bahn (elevated train). It was time for the U-Banh. Who cares that I was only going one stop? I took the train with success to the Zoo station, where I changed to the regional train that goes to Johanna's town. Easy-peasy.

Tomorrow, we'll be sticking around this area (Falkensee). On Monday, I may go to Berlin again. Tuesday--it's off to Warsaw!

Grateful for: a gracious hostess and tour guide.

An international incident

I left Paris without incident. Oh, sure, I did my usual routine of not packing on time, staying up late the night before leaving and rushing around in the morning taking care of things like washing the dishes instead of leaving the house promptly. Despite it all, I made it to the train station with enough time to stop for a coffee and croissant before boarding the train.

(Aside: my packing for this trip was particularly humorous. In the morning, I laid out everything I might need on the bed. I added and subtracted a few things as the day progressed—but I didn’t do anything else all day! Sure, I knit, watched a movie, read, emailed, etc., but I stayed in and DIDN’T PACK all day until I left to take about a 45 minute walk to meet a fellow to go to the movies.

Aside from the aside: did I mention that last week I put an ad on CL specifically soliciting movie-going companions? I got five responses in a single day before I took the ad down, realizing that it was too near to my departure for points East to actually make arrangements to meet more than one person. The fellow I met on Monday was the most likely of the bunch. He’s British and a long-time resident of Paris. We agreed to see “East of Eden,” a mutual favorite that we’d both seen before. We chatted easily before the movie—mostly about my academic discipline (how did that happen?). Afterwards, we were both a bit awash in the feelings inspired by the picture. We talked about the movie for a while, something I rarely do, and then we went for a drink. We sat and talked for something like, oh, three hours. I’m sure we’ll get together again and, this may sound goofy, but I feel like I’ve found a kindred spirit. Let me address the “potential for romance” issue. I did not place my ad with the intention of romance. If A. were less of an intermittent presence, I would be completely satisfied (in a short term way) with the amount of romance in my life. As he is an inconsistent and unpredictable presence, some room remains for romance, but very little desire on my part to pursue it. So, what about this guy? I think I might actually enjoy having him as a friend and a movie-going companion more than as a boyfriend. That said, who knows what will happen? I really enjoyed our time together, the conversation was great, and if I gain a friend with as much enthusiasm for movie-watching as I have, I will be very happy indeed. Now ends the longest aside ever.)

The train ride to Berlin was easy and since I’d had so little sleep the night before, I even dozed a little. When I woke up, I did some knitting and listened to a podcast. I ate a sandwich and read. I changed trains at Cologne and realized I had an hour stopover. I walked out of the train station and encountered a huge gothic cathedral. Cologne, as it turns out, has one of the most fantastic gothic cathedrals in Europe and it’s directly adjacent to the train station. (Why didn’t I know?) So, I went in. It was a lovely, sunny day, which made the stained glass sing.

The next leg of the trip was on a very comfortable German express train. We had one ten-minute delay and were about that late arriving in Berlin.

It wasn’t until I arrived in Berlin that I had a problem.

I exited the train and I followed along after the other passengers to the station exit. When I got there I wondered, where am I supposed to meet Johanna (the person with whom I was to stay)? I stood there for a bit and looked at a map of the station, which revealed that this station had five exits. FIVE. Uh-oh. I stood for a while longer (how long? I’m not sure). I walked around to the other main-looking exit. Johanna was nowhere in sight. Eventually, I got the idea that she must have intended to meet me on the platform (her email hadn’t indicated where we’d meet and I’d neglected to ask). So, I went back to the platform. I waited. I went back to the first exit. I waited. I asked the man at the information desk if there were a “meeting point” in the station. His answer (after first trying to direct me to the tourist information desk): no.

I went back to the platform. I called Johanna. No answer. Feeling a bit desperate and more than a little foolish, I called my father. In California. (He and Johanna’s husband were in the army together (her husband died last year) and they are good friends.) I thought that if she did have a cell phone, Dad might have the number. My stepmother answered and said she’d find out from Dad if there were a way to get in touch with Johanna. About 20 minutes later (we’re at an hour and a half of waiting by now), Dad called and said he’d try and contact one or two of Johanna’s four sons to see if they had her number.

At about 8:30—over two hours after I arrived—Johanna called me. She had indeed been at the train station and waiting for me on the platform. Either she arrived after I got off the train or she didn’t see me exit. After waiting a good long time and wandering around the station a bit, she went home. When she called, she instructed me on which train to take to her small town just outside of Berlin. She met me there (without incident), drove me home and fed me a light supper. I slept a solid nine hours.

Apparently, two of her sons called (one from the US the other from a European location) after hearing from my father, and gave her my cell phone number! Thus, a missed connection at the railway station became an international incident.

PS My time in Berlin is going very quickly! It's a fascinating, vibrant city and a huge contrast with Paris. I'm glad I'm here. Johanna and I are having a good time together, too.

Grateful for: connections.

Football and packing

Yesterday, in my continuing effort to be sociable and outgoing, I met up with a group of people to watch American football. While many in the group were not, in fact, American (at least one guy was from India and I heard more than one British accent), I felt relaxed in a way I rarely have since arriving. I have mentioned my current love/obsession with football and even though I didn't get to see either of my teams play, it was great to be around football. Ridiculous! As absurd as it is to spend time watching football in Paris, I don't regret for an instant that I went--and I will go again. It was comforting.

Tomorrow, early, I leave for Berlin (and then Warsaw and Vienna). I'm nervous and excited. I started packing this morning by laying all the things I intend to pack out on the bed. Yesterday, I buzzed Spesh and asked him to help me to pack light. He said: two pairs of pants, five t-shirts, as much underwear as possible, a sweater, and one pair of shoes. It's actually close to what I would have done anyway. I will add a pair of shoes, toiletries, pjs, three books, my camera, ipod and affiliated chargers. I do think five shirts for two weeks is plenty--but looking at my shirts, I can't pick which ones to bring. And they're not all tees. I included a couple of long and three-quarter-length sleeve shirts. Truth is, I often don't wear everything I pack, so five is plenty--if I can pick the right five! With the sweater, I'm covered for most eventualities, since it probably won't get colder than about 40 at night--and warmer than that when I'm likely to be out and about. So maybe more short-sleeved shirts? I don't know. Hmm, should I bring an umbrella? Spesh also didn't think I needed a hat or scarf, but I think I'll bring at least a scarf. It provides warmth and fashion at a low weight and may be helpful if the weather turns colder than expected.

Also, because I'm taking the train and will be making connections--and going to three different cities--I'm not taking the computer (Spesh approved). I'm sure I'll have some computer access and I'll post when possible, but I don't feel like hauling the computer around, even though I'd enjoy writing on the train.

I'm still looking at everything I intend to pack carefully laid out on the bed…I have no desire to actually put the things in my suitcase. I don't want to make the final decisions. I don't know why I dislike packing so much. The hardest decision is the second pair of shoes and the right small bag. Ok, I can leave those to the last minute. Why not? It's not like I'm getting any sleep tonight since I'm always restless before a trip. I am glad I'm at least this far ahead of the game. I'll worry less about forgetting something. And, I do have to remind myself: they have shops in Berlin, Warsaw and Vienna, so if I forget something, I'll have a good excuse to get myself a nice souvenir.

Wish me Bon Voyage!

Grateful for: planning.

Odds and ends

Politics
I have watched more coverage of American politics in Paris than I ever would have back in the States. I think it's because the only English-language TV stations I have are the BBC and CNN and it's a way to feel connected to life back home. CNN-International had full, live coverage of the Democratic convention. Something I surely would not have watched at home, even if it were still broadcast on network TV (it isn't, is it?).

Sweet tea
One of my lonely days last week, I stopped for a sandwich at a kebob place--but not my usual place. At the end of the meal, one of the proprietors gave me a tiny glass of hot, sweet mint tea. I was touched. They also retreated to the back room while I ate so I had to draw their attention to pay. Guess they trusted me.

Movies with Dara on Wednesday
Dara called me on Wednesday in a response to an email I sent on Monday and we went to the movies. I am relieved that we're still friends. I was wondering if it were me or her--I think it's her. That is, I think she doesn't call because of what's going on with her not because she doesn't like me. I already know I'll miss her when I go home--and I'm not even sure I'd say that about A.! (I haven't seen A. since Sunday. He actually thought I left this Tuesday and not next Tuesday. whatever.)

Apero/Picnic on Thursday
I took Dara with me. It wasn't quite as much fun as the first time I went but it's such an interesting group--I'm glad I connected with them. Oh, and the woman who asked me to call her? I still need to call her. I did see my other new friend, Yuki, who I was surprised to learn was (only) 22-years-old. It's one of the great things about this group: it's diverse in terms of age, race and gender. I think the range of people participating would be quite unlikely to find in one group in the US.

Do-nothing day on Friday
On Friday, I really wanted to do nothing. So, I did nothing. I watched TV on the computer and I knit a hat (from a pattern from Vogue Knitting, which is forwarded to me here at no extra charge--it was my b-day present from Dad--thanks Dad!). I also ate, eventually bathed, straightened up a little, and did the dishes. I felt guilty all day about doing nothing. I want to start getting up in the morning and writing. I have things to write. I did write a blog entry. I wrote some email. I chatted via IM with Spesh. It was rainy and gloomy outside, though, so that was part of the reason. I should do laundry. That will have to wait until Sunday. I left the house to go to a happy hour. I walked there.

(Un)happy hour
Went to meet some meetin folks for a "soiree" on Friday. I arrived late (9:40pm) and about six people were gathered--all speaking French! I did get a little English conversation but not much. I tried to buy a drink but gave up after two bartenders ignored me. Later, we moved indoors and I managed to get a drink. A couple of native English speakers arrived. Then the DJ started and I was positioned directly in front of the speakers. The music was good but so loud that I couldn't think. I left at 11:30pm and walked half way home. Ok, so maybe it was more like a so-so happy hour.

Phone date
On Friday, someone called asking for my landlord (this happens with some frequency). Quickly, the caller realized that I didn't speak French. When I said that, yes, I spoke English, he chatted with me and asked me out for coffee. Seriously? I asked why he was calling but he wouldn't tell me and wouldn't leave a message for the landlord. He said he'd call back in five minutes so I'd have his number. He did and said, "I'm calling back now. I leave you my number. Bye." Um, okaaay. I didn't say yes to coffee and I won't.

Metro pick up
Innocently riding the metro on Saturday evening, a couple of young men sat by me. I was listening to my ipod and ignoring them. (I've become proficient at ignoring men and not making eye contact.) As we approached my stop, they started talking to me. Specifically, the one sitting across from me tried to encourage me to talk to the one sitting next to me. He said, "He wants to talk to you." Several times. When I didn't respond, he said, "Do you want to talk to me?" I said no. I shook my head but they persisted. I said I had a "petit ami" (a boyfriend) but they said "Quoi? Quoi?" (What, what?). We all got off at the same stop and they walked along with me (even though I left the train by a different door). One of them said I was "très, très mignonne" (very, very cute). They kept asking where I lived. I didn't answer. Oy. Finally, they picked up that French wasn't my first language. (Go me!) They seemed delighted to learn that I spoke English and tried out a few words on me. When we got to the street, I said, (in English), "I'm sorry, I appreciate it, but I am not interested." And then they went away. Whew.

Final blow
I got a letter today from the "Republique Francaise" informing me that in order to get my "titre de sejour" I'll have to pay 275 euros, due when I go to get my medical exam. Good gravy.

Grateful for: getting out of the house.

Steps

On Thursday, I went through another step in the seemingly never-ending process of obtaining my carte de sejour. The amount of time it's taking makes the whole thing seem like a fool's errand.

I had an appointment at 10:45. I arrived at the building at 10:20. I found the right place and had my appointment ticket in hand by 10:35. Started going through my papers and made sure my stack had copies of everything. I didn't see a copy of the main page of my passport, only a copy of the visa page, so I went into the hall where three copiers and one photo booth machine were located, and made two extra copies. I soon found two other passport copies in my stack. Oh well, what's another 40 cents?

I waited. I was very nervous. It wasn't the crazy scene like the first police station I went to. This was a large, old building on the Ile de Cite, with a large courtyard full of cars. The different offices provided all kinds of services--mostly for foreigners. The office I sat in was small and had no windows in the waiting area--only a door with a window to a courtyard where I saw employees come to smoke. I waited with about twenty other people. Many of them were couples and one had a baby. I wonder if the presence of the baby is required? Or maybe both adults have to be there and they don't want to leave the baby at home? Anyway, this baby was fine and quiet and, actually, out of the room for most of the time.

At 12:30, my number was called. What's another two hours of waiting? I gave the lady my stack of documents. She asked for my passport. She flipped through the stack of papers, handing back originals and extra, unnecessary, copies.

And that was it. No questions, no annoyance, no requests for other documents, no insistence that I did something wrong and needed more of the items translated (as the instructions seemed to indicate) or that my photos should have been in black in white (as instructed) instead of in color. Nope. Instead, she cut my photos into the proper size, printed something out that I had to sign in three places, and stuck the photos on. Then sent me across the courtyard to make an appointment for a medical exam. Right, the next step is to see the doctor!

I should also add that the entire transaction was conducted in French. She didn't ask if I spoke French. She spoke clearly and look right at me when she talked. When I didn't understand, I'd repeat part of what she said and then she would either correct me or repeat herself. It worked. All of my conversations were in French. I'm kind of pleased with myself.

I walked across the courtyard holding the piece of paper she'd given me. I got to the right doorway but wasn't sure which room to enter. A man who worked there (possibly a janitor) saw the confused look on my face and came over to help me. He confirmed I was in the right spot and I did get to the correct door.

I entered a very large room with lots of people waiting. I didn't have to wait…long. I walked right over to the correct window and stood behind a couple who were making their medical appointment. After about five minutes, it was my turn. The lady as this counter did not seem happy. She offered me an appointment on September 19th. I said I couldn't make it and asked about the next week. She said, "non." I said…I wouldn't be in Paris. She looked at me, annoyed, and said something I didn't understand. She said it again. She was asking for the dates I'd be away. Ah. I made an appointment for September 24th (interestingly, the week after September 19th--just as I'd asked for at first).

I walked back to the first office and had to wait while my lady finished up with another couple. When she was free, I handed her my appointment slip and she explained that after the medical exam I'd go to another office at the same place and something would happen--I'd get my temporary card. I'd get my permanent card in the mail later on. Then, she extended the date on my current temporary card (actually a half sheet of paper with my photo stuck on and embossed--sort of a temporary temporary card) to last until after I had the doctor's appointment (just in case, I guess).

Then I said I was going on a trip and should I take the temporary card? She said, oh no, for that I needed a re-entry visa. I could get that across the hall. Oh dear.

I went across the hall. I said something to the lady at the reception counter. She gave me a form and said the visa would cost six euros. I filled out the form and noticed that it required a photo. I was out of photos. I went to the photo booth machine in the hall and got four pictures for five euros. I went back to the room and waited for about half an hour. The lady I spoke to this time (another woman! Do they not employ men in these places? I did see a few guys here and there but all of my interactions were with women.) was much more laid back than the other women I encountered. She complimented my passport--apparently it's prettier than the French one--entered a bunch of stuff in the computer and sent me across the courtyard to buy six euros worth of tax stamps. The cashier, at it turned out, was in the same room where I'd been to make the medical appointment, but I entered through a different door.

Holding my two stamps (1 euro and 5 euro) firmly in hand as I walked through the windy courtyard, I returned to my laid-back helper. She pasted the stamps in my passport and hand wrote the visa information directly onto the page. I'm good to return to France until November 15th.

At 2pm, I left the building, completely exhausted and temporarily relieved.

Will someone tell me why I'm doing this?

Grateful for: patience.

Week (or so) in review

Monday: I didn't do much, but I did go to the movies.

Tuesday: a much more eventful day.

Canteen: I ate lunch at a "canteen." Normally, canteens are employee-only restaurants but I stumbled upon this place in my neighborhood and it had a sign that said "open to the public" (in French). The hours were limited (11:30-13:30), but I got there early enough to have lunch. When I entered, the chef explained that they only took cash, it was 8 euros (a real bargain), and I got what was on the menu--written on a chalk board on the wall: entrée: pamplemousse avec crevettes (grapefruit with shrimp), plat: escalope de veau, pommes dauphines (veal and potatoes), dessert: tartare aux herbes, yaourt aux fruit ou peche (cheese with herbs, fruit yoghurt or a peach). I said ok and also managed to ask if I should pay now or later--he said "après" (after). I sat down and when I took a look around, I noticed that most of the other lunchers weren't talking. The one exception was the table to my right. I also noticed that in a room with no more than fifty seats and no menu choices, there were eight servers. It occurred to me that the staff was probably developmentally disabled and that, perhaps, most of the customers were too. No one but me actually paid!

The staff person who waited on me was very polite and attentive. She asked if I wanted each course (I said yes every time) and she served me ably. Her disability, if there were one, was undetectable.

All together it was a good lunch at a good price and not a bad experience. The atmosphere wasn't great though and, well, the place smelled sort of sour. Otherwise, I'd definitely go back. Heck, I might go back anyway if I want a decent hot meal at a relatively reasonable price.

Classical concert in the Marais. Old pretty church. Me and about 20 other tourist types. Piano and violin. Not great musicians but not bad. A pleasant way to spend an hour.

Expat happy hour (already covered).

Wednesday: honestly, I can't remember what I did. Oh, I know: laundry! Wait, maybe that was Thursday.

Thursday: More nothing much until the evening when I met up with my new French friend for the picnic where more social contacts were made.

Friday: Another happy hour! Good fun because I met an interesting American guy, John, who has lived in Paris for five years but is originally from Seattle. We had a good time talking about our mutual hometown. Before he left he offered to give pointers on how to navigate life in France. What a sweetheart! I mentioned my concern about getting my birth certificate translated. I have an appointment to get my "carte de sejour" on Thursday and I'm supposed to have all my documents translated. My new friend said that I'd actually only need my birth certificate translated--and he told me that the City of Paris would do it for free!

John sent me the address of the place where to go for the translation on Monday--but I had some serious doubts so I ended up paying for the translation (though I did get it done for 40 euros instead of the 50 I was originally quoted). Today, I dropped by the address John gave me and they seemed quite willing to do the translation (I didn't have the BC with me--it was still at the translator's). Hrm. Well, what's another 40 euros more or less?

Saturday: Sent lots of emails, read, knitted and then ran out to see a museum (Musee Bourdell) before meeting my new Canadian friend for the movies. The movie was decent and interesting. We had a couple of beers and lots of conversation afterwards but I'm not sure if we'll hang out again. We get along ok but not great. But it was a good evening.

Sunday: I went for a quick Vietnamese lunch and then to the Parc Floral (part of the Bois de Vincennes) to see a concert with a couple of other people (via meetin). The string orchestra played two Brahms pieces--they were fantastic. After, we walked around the Parc--gorgeous! All the wildflowers are in full bloom now and it was lovely.

After that, I was pretty worn out from a full day of walking around. I got in touch with A. and we had another little chat--the upshot was dinner together. Nice. Hopefully I'll see him again before I go. We said goodbye a little after midnight but I could not sleep. Yet, I still got up early the next day.

Monday: dealt with the translation business. Lunch in a park. Reading on the same bench. A movie. Home and to bed early--to make up for the lost sleep.

Tuesday: hey, that's today! Had an excellent modestly-priced-for-Paris lunch. Called in on the City's potential translation service. Walked a whole bunch. Sat on a bench and read for a while. Walked a bunch more. Went to see a crappy movie (they can't all be winners!). Picked up my BC translation. Home, dinner, etc.

More and better posts to come...

Grateful for: lots to write about.