The month of May really kicked me on my butt. It turned into one long wrestling match, me and May. I am pretty sure June has found me victorious, but I am cautious. One sickness after another heaped itself on me, all the while I was shrouded in self-doubt and confusion. Sickness has that effect on me. I tend to spend more time wondering if I am really sick, and questioning whether I should be doing more or really resting. The effect of having a chronically sick parent- who may or may not have spent many of those years and hospital trips malingering, viewing it as more of a vacation where everyone takes care of you and all responsibilities are put aside- is that it's really hard to just give in and rest without feeling guilty.
But May was determined to knock the guilt out of me and so, for a the last week at least, it's been nothing but rest. I do feel on the upward swing.
With just 8 1/2 days until vacation officially starts, it is just in time. I was somewhat randomly invited to Paris and, having never actually been out of the airport, I accepted. Europe has never held a big attraction for me, but I do find myself getting excited.
I spent some time on AirBnB- the french version- and what emerged began to give me a picture of a whole different culture. (Of course, you say, but really, sometimes the American in me imagines all Western cities to be similar. In fact, a friend mentioned this homogenization of cities around the world and I can't help but feel he is right. They are all beginning to look the same. There are 3 Burger Kings in Abidjan now, and so many street corners resemble any big city, anywhere.)
Aside from that, browsing apartments (in my price range, keep in mind. Paris on a budget. There were plenty of over the top, incredibly gorgeous, soul soothing apartments available for a small inheritance) an image began to emerge. The back-packing, youth hostel crew, the Europe trekking families, zipping over on the Eurostar for a weekend, New York city at dusk, soft light and smooth music.
Many of the places were in multi story buildings (think 6, 7, 8 stories) with no elevator. A walk up. 'Great exercise,' the reviewers touted. Many had a shared bath- hallway toilet. I hadn't even considered needing to ask if there was a bathroom in the flat. They were described in terms of meters and I imagined the tiny NYC apartments that went for outrageous rents. But maybe these have cobblestone streets leading up to them. Or at least a really great bakery just outside.
In effect, I began to get a sense of Paris, as an exotic locale. As a place to 'meet locals' and my French school experience came back to me- yes, it's a different perspective, a different culture, an intriguing take on this journey of life we are all undergoing.
And so reluctance to experience Europe has changed into something of excitement. The world seems open once again. I haven't left Africa in so many years, it will be nice to breathe new air. The apartment I found is in a little neighborhood the host describes as "Afro-neighborhood." I take it to mean a variety of African owned businesses and migrant presence. Seemed like such a lucky break to find it. I can go to Paris but still feel a little bit on familiar ground.
And the Louvre is hosting a special exhibit about Dance and the Movement of the Body. Perfect timing to vive la france.
