Temperament

Paris has been enjoying an incredibly mild autumn this year. While LA is literally burning up, I've been actively rotating the few pairs of shorts and tank tops I brought with me. Each day starts off deceivingly chilly; but as soon as the sun pokes through the clouds, the temperature shoots up almost 10 degrees (Farenheit, that is)! Monday through Thursday I wake up, get ready for class and walk the ten minutes to my metro stop. I take Les Sablons on Line 1 to Bastille. Each day, the metro is just another public domain experience. Curiosities, curious eyes, books come out so as to avoid the awkward wait surrounded by too many faces to avoid them all... Everyone ignores the sweltering heat that blankets us. Each time the metro goes around a turn, I turn my face up toward the middle of the car where for a brief moment, cool air streams through the train.

The streets smell of urine and unseen rain, but more often than not, I find myself following succulent odors around corners, into bakeries and patisseries. I guiltily pull my face back from the glass and tell myself to get going; besides, I've only walked one block.

There isn't a dull moment. Cars threaten to run you down, construction, renovation and numerous other clangs and bangs mingle together to form the cacophony of noise that is Paris. I've stopped wondering angrily, what is making that raucus???, and now accept things as is, unless obviously out of the blue. Cafes sit elbow to elbow, catering to people sitting outside, taking coffees and leisurely lunches...It's Tuesday, who's running this country?! For it seems as if all of France has taken a lunch break. Between the hours of 12 to 4 the streets are bustling, boulangeries are selling arm-long sandwiches like hot cakes.

And then I'm "home," after 30 minutes on the metro, after the ten minute walk back, back tothe apartment. Suddenly, I'm getting up at 730am and getting ready for another day.