What a week continued again

*Edited for a couple of additions to Tuesday and Wednesday

So there was also some sake and a boat ride on Friday that seem worth mentioning; because of the tomato-bacon-rice thing that was boiling and the sudden entrance of my host family, I didn't really have time to write about it. The sake was quite wonderful; it was the first time I'd ever had it and I still can't decide whether I like it more than red wine or not. And the boat ride along the Seine was lovely, much warmer than when I did it in March with John and Sophie. Most of the time Mat and Julie were trying to convince me to jump in the water, which I refused to do until they showed me how. Since they refused to show me how, I never did. It was a fun evening, if the conversations did get a little tripped out.

But anyway, on to Saturday:

In the morning we drove out with dad and all the baggage to Roissy. John, Sophie, Mat, Julie and Elisabeth all said goodbye in the parking lot and left for the country house; I stayed with Dad and helped out with the baggage up until he went through security. I was surprised at how emotional I got saying goodbye, seeing as it was only two weeks from that point to see him again (and less than that from now). It really hit me again, watching him leave, how much I missed everyone at home, and for a second I wanted nothing more than to be going through security myself and getting on that plane with him.

But then there was Gay Pride Paris, which washed that away temporarily.

I took the RER back to Paris and wasted the morning doing nothing in particular; I went back to Montmartre and photographed some more graffiti and found a few more gifts for people, and then went back to the other side of the river to the American café and took lunch to go, walking around in an elaborate loop to find the parade. I got there about an hour before it started and watched the preparations, and managed to get a spot close to the front of the parade to listen to the speeches by various members of prominent GLBT organizations in France. Liza Minelli and the mayor of Paris were also there, though I didn't recognize them until later.

The parade itself was amazing. I walked for about fifteen minutes and then stopped to take pictures of the rest of the parade; it took nearly three hours for it to pass me by completely. There were all kinds of people there, from little toddlers to octogenarians, straight people, gay people, transgendered people, people in crazy costumes and people in modest dress...but god, how many people! Estimates afterwards put the number anywhere between 200,000-700,000. It was one of the most if not the most enthusiastically joyful public event that I've been to. For a day, everyone was allowed to be themselves, whether considered within the bounds of mainstream cultural acceptability or not. It was empowering to watch. And just about as amusing. I was photographed once for my incredible rainbow awesomeness-- I was wearing a rainbow tanktop, had a rainbow sweatshirt tied around my waist, was carrying a rainbow flag and had rainbow sandals on as well.

But after those three hours, the parade passed by and, covered in various political stickers and with a decent sunburn on my shoulders and back, I headed to the metro to get to Gare de l'Est to catch my train out to the country house.

I remember when I first came out to myself that I had a period where I thought -everyone- knew that I was a lesbian, that I had some kind of gigantic neon L painted on my chest...wearing that much rainbow on the public metro gave me about the same feeling. People (mostly men) definitely stared at me, and it didn't phase me much until this group of four burly guys starting -really- staring at me. I think they were just trying to decipher the stickers on my shoulders (from the way their lips were moving), but they still made me nervous. Luckily my stop was right after when they got on, so I was able to beat a retreat before they could do anything.

However, at Gare de L'Est, there were no trains going in or out because of a power outage. Just because I'm that lucky, my cellphone happened to be on extremely low battery, so I spent about an hour at the station, turning on my cell on the half hour to try to reach Sophie. I sat down against a wall and quickly was surrounded by a group of college-age German tourists (everyone was trying to get to a comfortable place to sit as they waited for the power to come back on so they could catch their trains), who also started staring at me. One took a picture while I was looking the other way. They were definitely talking about me-- I heard a word that suspiciously sounded like homosexual. But they seemed more curious than hostile, so I let it go and after a while they forgot about me. 

In any case, I finally got a hold of Sophie and she told me another way to get at least halfway to the country house and told me John would pick me up there. No one on the metro seemed to give a damn this time around, or at the second station-- or if they did, I didn't notice because I was so frayed from spending so much time in overheated stations with too many people, waiting for something to happen. The train I took was almost empty, though, so I could read the newspaper and relax a little bit. Still, it was a relief to finally get back.

Sunday:

A much, much quieter day, mostly spent on the computer stealing music from John's incredible library. In all, very productive: Bjork, Janis Joplin, Joni Mitchell, Neil Young, David Bowie, Van Morrison, Pearl Jam, Noir Desir, Nirvana... I think my library has about doubled if not tripled since my arrival in France, with all the music people have given to me. It adds variety, so I'm quite pleased. In the same afternoon I also learned to make jam (a useful life skill, if you ask me) and picked some raspberries (one in the bucket, two in your stomach is the best rule to follow). We left the house around six, which normally would have given us ample time to get back to Paris for my eight-thirty train...

...except for the traffic jam. I changed my train for another one in the morning at the first station we came to with a minute to spare, but still had to pay an extra fifteen euros for it. Better than buying another ticket entirely, but still. It was nice, though, to spend another night with everyone; I achieved my greatest accomplishment by getting Elisabeth addicted to Lost (the virus spreads!). We threw dinner together with a little bit of whatever-was-in-the-fridge plus some takeout from the Chinese place across the street; all in all, not a bad way to end my time in Paris for the year.

Monday:

In the morning John and Sophie woke me up and I said goodbye to everyone. I walked out to Montparnasse and got breakfast from the American patisserie one last time: a banana-walnut-caramel muffin, which was so delicious that I'm plotting how to steal the recipe. The train, which appeared to be empty when I got on, filled with a group of rather noisy high school students; I tuned them out with Lost and everything was fine.

In Tours I took the train out to the station at the center of town when Camille didn't answer my calls, and when I walked out to the bus stop and noticed that the next bus wasn't for another two and a half hours, tried again and found her there. She picked me up without a problem, happily sparing me from a weird drunk guy who was at the stop and kept muttering to himself and inching closer and closer to me.

In the afternoon we went out to a friend's house and spent the afternoon in their pool. Most of the time we spent trying to push each other under the water; I'm very good at getting other people (except Louis) under, but not at resisting being pushed under myself. We stopped briefly for cookies and cake, went back in, and then finally left when we realized that we had to leave to get to dinner in time at the house of a couple that Catherine works for. It turned out that they had a pool as well, but by this time we had less enthusiasm for pushing each other under anymore (when your nose and eyes start smarting badly, it becomes less fun), so we ended up being social and spending most of the time talking with Claude and André (the couple who invited us) instead. It was a very nice evening; they're both excellent cooks and have a beautiful garden, and they also were great conversation. They've been all over the world, from Vietnam to the States to South Africa. We also talked about such fine subjects as food and wine, and after dessert they opened a '97 Vouvray that was absolutely delicious, one of the best wines I've tasted yet. We're having them over next week so that I can introduce them to NM cuisine; I hope I'm up to the task. 

Tuesday:

The heat wave continues-- I think the peak was about 32 degrees (almost 90 Farenheit). Most of the day we spend inside with the shutters closed in order to keep the heat out (air conditioning is somewhat rare in France). At around two in the afternoon we decide to venture out for a bike ride around the little towns in the area; we stayed out for two hours and by the end I felt like I was going to die. Everyone made fun of me, saying I should be used to it from living in New Mexico; I had no witty response, my brain having been fried by the heat. Oh, and a butterfly flew down my shirt while we were riding through traffic; I was so ticklish that I'm surprised I didn't crash the bike. It survived until the next rest stop and flew right back out as if nothing had happened. Strange experience.

Oh, and around lunch, Catherine asked me if I was offended by the fact that Claude and André were both men. A little taken off guard, I just quietly shook my head and said that it made no difference to me at all. Camille burst out laughing and said, "Mom, I don't think you realize..." But both of us let the moment pass, so I never ended up coming out to Catherine. It was just funny, though. 

Wednesday:

35 today (about ninety-five degrees Farenheit), so there were no excursions today whatsoever apart from a run at nine in the morning (when it was much cooler out) and a brief walk at noon to go feed the horses not far from us the leftover bread from lunch. A lot of time spent reading, a lot more time wasted on the internet, doing not much in particular. I've had a more or less continual headache the whole afternoon that I think is from the heat. It's supposed to snap and rain tomorrow; I dearly hope so, because another day like this without air conditioning is going to kill me. The fact that we're being green by not using air conditioning is only a very hollow condolence.

But this evening it was much cooler out, so I took a little walk just to get out of the house, and I found, to my pleasant surprise, that the tar had refrozen on the roads (yes, ladies and gents, it had begun to melt during the day), and that the fields of sunflowers, which were just putting out the first flowers on Tuesday, are now in full bloom. Unfortunately, I didn't have my camera, but I'll go back tomorrow with Lea and take pictures.

Right. So now we're caught up. Yay! I think I'll write another entry just before I go to Paris for my plane home weekend after next to recount my last adventures in France, which will include two brief trips to Normandy and Blois, an AFS reunion, shopping, and who knows what else.

Till then! Ciao!