Perhaps a little info about my trip to Paris last summer is in order, since I posted the pics. I know I posted that it was a study-abroad trip with UTA (the University of Texas at Arlington), and was for 2 weeks. The class I took in conjunction with the trip was all about the globalization of Paris, and why the French built it the way it is today. I enjoyed learning why the Arc de Triomphe and La Defense were built, and how Hauptmann standardized and formalized Paris’s architecture so that it could grow and become a world power. However, as always, my focus was on the culture.
There were nine of us in all, including the professor, and the group all stayed in the same 3-star hotel on the Rue St. Antoine du Fauberg. I found a Parisian who rented out rooms in his apartment in the 12th arrondissement, for about a third of the cost. He gave me his daughter’s room (she was with her mother for the summer, I think), and I slept in her bunk bed for twelve nights. I had to go downstairs to use the toilet, and take a bath or shower in my host’s bathroom, also on the first floor, but it only cost me €20 per night, including breakfast. That was only €3 more than a youth hostel, and much more private.
Every morning my host, Patrick (pronounced “pah-TREEK”) would run across the street to the boulangerie and buy a baguette for our breakfast. I had tea with milk and sugar, he had hot chocolate, and we both slathered butter and preserves on our halved baguette pieces. Yum. He would ask me what we were going to do that day—in French—and I would attempt to tell him, also in French. He spoke a little English and was able to translate unfamiliar words for me into French, but he always put an emphasis on my learning his language. Once breakfast was finished, I took off for the Dugommier métro station. His apartment was only two blocks from the station, and it was only three stops from Place de la Nation, and from there it was a quarter mile walk to the hotel, where I met my group and we began our day. Of course, once I met the group, I had to walk the same quarter mile back to Nation to catch the métro to our destination for the day, but good exercise, right?
I have been asked to explain the significance of Matilda, the fairy doll I carried with me everywhere while in Paris (see pics). My daughter really wanted to go to Paris with me. She’s an artist, and her greatest desire is to see the Louvre museum, and the Eiffel Tower. Since she couldn’t go this time, she made a doll from scraps of fabric and wire, beads and yarn, and named her Matilda the fairy. (She painted the eyes with black nail polish!) She told me to let Matilda represent her on the trip, and to take her picture all over Paris. And so I did. Matilda became the group mascot. If I put her in my backpack and we were taking group pics, one of my classmates would ask, “Where’s Matilda? Don’t we want her to be in this picture?” I must admit, a few in the group thought I was nuts, I think, but I really didn’t care.
I have many stories about Matilda, but there is one time that I would like to tell you about now. We visited many museums, but l’Orangerie was on the agenda that day. This museum near the Louvre houses two rooms full of Claude Monet’s murals of the water lilies at Giverny (yes, they WERE that awesome!). My backpack was too large, and security asked me to check it and not carry it in the museum. No problem, that just took a load off my back for an hour or two. I went to the desk, got my claim check and turned to go and then remembered that Matilda was inside! I unzipped my pack, pulled Matilda out, and gently extricated her from the tea towel that I used to protect her. I looked up and the two women behind the counter looked at me, puzzled. I explained in French that this was Matilda, a doll my daughter made for me to travel with, and that I had to take her picture in the museum. They were delighted, and asked me several questions. I was thoroughly enjoying myself, when I glanced over and saw that my professor was frowning, because the entire group was waiting for me. He liked to brief us before he turned us loose, telling us when to meet up to go, what to look for, etc., and I was holding up the group. I was thrilled, because I had just had one of those “cultural” moments that I live for.
Stay tuned for more of Matilda’s adventures in Paris!
