Just kidding, it was only Matthew.
I woke up again later to the same ringtone, but this time it was my alarm. My exhausted instincts went to shut it off and pull the covers over my head, but fourteen unread Facebook messages caught my attention. I started scrolling through, and not to my surprise, I was the last one awake for the day. The plan was to go have lunch and visit Moulin Rouge, with some flea market shopping along the way. Suddenly, my bed became the last place I wanted to be so I jumped up and got ready for the day.
At noon we all gathered in the courtyard of our foundation and slowly made our way to the metro. After helping a few of the other students load their Navigo cards, we pushed through the gates and boarded the railway car. Thanks to Marjolaine, my host mother in Canada, I have a "Cartoville: Paris" which is basically the most convenient tourist guide book of all time. The pages are split into the arrondissements (or districts) of Paris, with individual maps for each of them, along with suggestions for the best restaurants, museums, and tourist attractions. There is even a section at the back of the book with maps of all the train/metro/bus lines through the city. With the help of these city plans, we were able to pinpoint the exact location of Moulin Rouge and navigate the quickest route there. I felt like a true explorer, using paper maps to find our way, something I had not done since the smartphone era! Unfortunately though, our final connection was temporarily closed and we were forced to walk the last mile.
I led the way up the stairs to the street, and with each step, an unusual feeling in the pit of my stomach grew stronger. The polluted streets, barred windows, and lack of children were sure signs that this was not a particularly safe area. Before completely exposing myself I turned around and stopped the group, and much like a paranoid mother, instructed them to walk straight ahead without hesitation. We are young, well-dressed, easily distracted, and speaking English... practically screaming "PICK-POCKET US!"
A few seconds later we were surrounded by clusters of foreign, middle-aged men pressing up against us. I walked briskly past them without making eye contact, but quickly realized the group hadn't followed suit. I about-faced to see a police officer in the middle of my peers asking questions. What just happened?! It had literally been a matter of seconds and already there was trouble! I pushed my way back just in time to hear the explanation; a man had been asking the girls for spare cigarettes. I think we all know he wanted more than that. The police officer didn't have any further questions, so we continued on our path - this time at a quicker speed and with less conversation.
There it was, our beacon of hope, our indicator of safety - The Golden Arches! Also known as, McDonald's. Tired of walking and absolutely starving, we drifted our way to the end of the line. The building was modern and unlike any McDonald's I have ever seen in the United States. Standing there in line was actually an option, as there were kiosks placed throughout the lobby to place orders remotely. Rather than trying to figure out how to operate such technology, and furthermore, figure out when it was our order being called, we decided to take the traditional route and wait in the queue. Soon it was my turn, and I went with a chicken sandwich combo. The prices matched the entire facade, and a little piece of me died inside as I handed over 12 euros. I was literally paying four times the price I would have in America! As I ascended the spiral staircase with my tray, and chose a booth by a window overlooking the cobblestone streets of Paris, I accepted that it was the experience I was paying for, rather than my fries.
And, if you were wondering, it all tasted AMAZING! As good, if not better than America.
Totally filled up with burgers, fries, and coke, we dumped our trays and went back down the stairs. After lingering a few extra minutes for the free wifi connection, we were back on the streets, and within a half-mile of Moulin Rouge. As we started down the road we passed a storefront that caught our attention: "SPA." As there were six of us girls, and only one boy, it was absolutely necessary to stop in and check the prices. But something didn't seem quite right. We passed a couple stores before seeing another - this time "SAUNA." Again, we wanted to see the services and prices, so I marched right up to the listing. I stood there a few minutes, trying to process what it was telling me.. Couples.. All men.. All women.. WHAT THE HECK?! It was definitely not the sauna we had in our minds! Just as I was walking back to explain to my friends, an older man and woman exited the establishment hand in hand and grinning from ear to ear. Of course, they were drenched in sweat and appeared exhausted. At that point I didn't need to explain anything, and we abruptly turned on our heels.
It was the very next storefront where things got out of hand, and I'm afraid I don't have the vocabulary to even describe the things we saw. The further we walked, the more "interesting" the window displays were, to a point where nothing could have possibly shocked us. Never, and I mean NEVER would such raunchy exhibitions be placed in front of American stores, and most especially not in such a popular touristy neighborhood. I may be a small-town, Western Kansas, conservative Christian girl.. but even the most liberal and cultured students in our group were shocked! If I had ever doubted that Paris was the City of Love, it was reassured during our adventure down this street.
When we finally arrived in front of the one and only: Moulin Rouge, we couldn't help but break out in song like Christina Aguilera. We snapped a zillion pictures like all the other people gathering out front, and stood on top of the giant fan. I have yet to understand why there is an enormous fan that blows upward just in front of such a historical sight, but regardless, we climbed on top for pictures.
After returning to Cite Universitaire, it was time to relax and have a beer. We joined a few of the other students on the front steps and did just that for the remainder of the evening. With our International Student Orientation the next day, it was necessary that we actually go to bed on time for once!
There was barely any sunlight left when I drug my feet up the stairs and into the shower, and even though I was ready to crash I forced myself to be prepared. I placed all my notebooks, pencils, colored pens; an apple and banana and water bottle; along with the copies of my passport, visa, and various documents in my book bag. It wasn't officially my first day of school, but I went to bed with the same giddy feeling as if it was :)
Ahhhh, ma vie est parfait!
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