Language Barrier

Lets back track just a bit. I think some of my lack of attachment to the space has a lot to do with the language barrier. I came to realize that I’ve traveled a lot, but primarily to countries that speak English as a primary language. So getting out and moving about freely is different. There are many people that speak English in France but there are a lot of people that refuse to do so just based on certain principles.

When I arrived

I received a set of instructions from my host regarding how to get to the apt from the airport. However, many of the stations are closed for maintenance this summer. So the station I was to use to transfer was closed. This set off a series of chain events that included me lugging my suitcase back and forth through a series of hot ass underground tunnels. Keep in mind I did not sleep on the flight, I was experiencing cramps and back pain from my period so I stood most of the flight. I ate very little because the non-dairy vegetarian option included one slice of each: squash, pepper and carrot I think with half a palm of cooked spinach, and a smear of mashed potatoes. So I’m on my cycle, not rested, and hungry. Lord knows that’s a cold combination. Oh I forgot to mention my gps isn’t working because I was fooling with my data settings to prevent roaming. Needless to say I was thinking, ‘fuck this I’m going back to the airport.’ Did I mention I called my host but couldn’t really hear much of what she said other than she was in the subway and couldn’t hear me. I was fit to be tied. I just got off the random train I had transferred to and plopped my ass down next to an Egyptian statue.

Karen and Verizon to the rescue

I just dialed 1800… and got someone on the phone that helped me reconfigure. I was able to access what’s app to message Karen. By that time I’d gotten my mis packed snacks out the suitcase I hadn’t intended to check. I told Karen where I was and that I was really close to going home. My luggage was becoming unbearable and I don’t even pack that much shit. I reorganized my bags and kept thinking I must look so crazy out here. My thoughts weren’t clear, I felt tears and a nervous breakdown coming on. Y’all I’m great with directions and it takes a little more than it used to to frustrate me. What I hadn’t done which is a part of my new process was to stop, just pause. Zoe my Essie sister taught me that, she said I can take as much time as I need. I kept going because I didn’t want anyone to prey on me. I’d watched too many videos. Once I was able to stop and speak with Karen I felt better. Karen offered to come and get me where I was, I said he’s initially and then didn’t want to inconvenience her so I told her I’d be willing to try and find my way again.

They wit the shit out here

I almost exit the station above ground and for the first time I see an agent. Maybe I was overlooking the others but I swear I didn’t see any at the first transfer point. So I approach the agent greet her in French and then ask for directions in English. She said that she didn’t speak or comprehend what I was saying. I stepped to the side because I was finna go smooth the fuck off. I gathered myself, the google directions, and approached her bench for the second time. Would you believe she gave me a map and directions in English?

Moving right along. After that I made it to my destination a few transfers included.

my apartment

So we get to the place and follow the maize of instructions to get in but the key to access the other key doesn’t work. I swear if Karen wasn’t there I would have left. When I’m tired of talking, worry. Karen said, “no it’s ok just wait, I’ll message her, how are you feeling? You are so calm.”

I told Karen I was mad as fuck and that the calm before the storm always looks like this with me. I was upset that the directions were wrong, my host didn’t attempt to call or message me back after loosing reception in the tunnel, and had given me the wrong key.

Forgive and kinda forget?

When we finally got things sorted, to open that door to all the natural light, big windows, hardwood floors, and a lot of the attributes I dream of my ideal apartment embodying, I was able to forgive and kind forget the two hours spent in the train station. It took me 4 hours total from the airport to being able to access the apartment.

For the remainder of my stay things went well with the exception of my host returning after having sent a message that I didn’t not see beforehand. She entered during a private moment and had she entered just a few minutes before…

To wrap it up I think I’ve lost a lot of weight. It was so hot I didn’t have much of an appetite. I also don’t eat a lot of cheese, bread, no pork on my fork, and I don’t drink anymore. Many of the things Paris is known for. I think I’ll write a post about the food I liked, anyway enough prattling from me. I am blessed beyond measure, grateful for this experience and simply wanted to capture this to remember everything ain’t always Rosey and shit but there’s always something on the other side.

Love y’all, giving myself space to love me.

until soon.

Ps this blog was brought to you by my phone and my thumbs.