Le soleil se lève aussi

I awoke this morning, or should I say I never slept, to the dark.  I tossed and turned for several hours, my body unable to adjust to its new location seven hours away from normality, before giving up and pouring myself a glass of water and opening up The Savage Detectives by Bolaño.  I read through the whole first book, about a hundred and forty pages before one of the two alarms I set for myself went off to let me know it was 6 am.  Tin fingers rang against my window and I looked out to see that rain had begun to fall, glazing the cobbled street.  I climbed back into bed thinking I would wait until sunrise, but after another hour of reading passed there was still no sign of light.  Little did I know that what I was waiting for would not arrive until after 8 o'clock, so, determined to move, I got up got dressed in yesterday's clothes, which were lying somewhat folded next to the bed and zipped up my jacket.  I was determined to do two things: commander un café et trouver du pain au chocolat.
The air was sweet and nearly silent.  It seemed as though either I had mistaken the time or the world was sleeping in.  Either way, I was awake and began to walk south along the Boulvard de Menilmontant, south then north again along the west shore of the street, turning about once I reached Rue de Montreuil for no reason.  I was killing time waiting for the café near my apartment to open, which I had marked as the spot for my morning coffee.  The city was still asleep, a drip.  The sky was black and though the sun was set to rise in a half hour it showed no signs of lacking.
With wing a building slid motionless some inches to the right - a flight of pigeons unsettled.
A trick of the eyes.  It seemed for a moment as though an apartment behind some birds was shifting in their flight, the lines of the stones blurring through wing beats suggested as much.  Perhaps my eyes were tired.  As I said, I had not slept.
Still I wobbled on, passing a boulangerie smelling so richly of freshly baked dough that I nearly fainted in the street, but it was early yet and I yearned for coffee.  Something strong and black to steam in a ceramic cup.  Arriving back at my apartment I noticed that the café Le Soleil Levant had opened, and with a moments hesitation I walked inside.  The owner was quietly sitting at a table peeling potatoes for the afternoon's plat du jour but smiled when she saw me.  Bonjour.  Bonjour.  Je voudrais un café s'il vous plait.  Merci.  The place was completely empty and I settled in at a table with a view.  The sun was just beginning to rise over gray skies and the streets were starting to fill.  Coffee was served, a small shot of espresso and a cube of sucre to wash it down.  I sat for over an hour and wrote in my journal as people filtered in and out, ordering beer and coffee, chatting away with the owner.  After some time I stood and walked up to the counter, Combien?  Un cinquante.  D'accord, merci.  Bonne journée!  Salut.

I left and wandered down back down Boulvard de Menilmontant in search of that bakery I had smelled earlier, and within a moment I found it.  I walked in with confidence, Bonjour!  A woman appeared form around the corner and I pointed to a pile of delicious looking pasteries. Deux pain au chocolat s'il vous plait.  Trois?  Non, deux.  Deux, d'accord.  She told me the price and I pulled out some change, and after a moments hesitation (I honestly didn't hear what she said) she took my hand and helped me count out the total.  3,50.  She asked me where I was from and I said Etats Unis.  She smiled and said something I didn't understand.  I asked if she spoke English and she said no, Spanish.  She asked me if I knew any Spanish (even a little?) and I had to laugh.  Not a word.  Another customer came in and we said our goodbyes and I was off, back to my apartment with gold in my hand, pure gold.
I wasn't counting exactly, but if there had been an official with a stopwatch next to me I may have set a new world record for fastest time eating two pastry items.  Absolute bliss.  No wonder people live here.
I swiped up the crumbs from the table and cleaned up a bit.  The next thing on my list was to go to the Sorbonne and after that find myself a power adaptor.  I checked the map to see where I was going and packed all the proper documents I would need to register for classes.  After that I was off.
I took the Ligne 2 to Nation then transfered to the RER A train headed toward Chatelet.  There I transfered over to the RER B and got off at the Luxembourg stop.  I had gotten lost before in the Latin Quartier so this time I was prepared.  The night before (in between reading and failing to sleep) I had downloaded a map of Paris that didn't require wifi and was mapping out my route to the Sorbonne office.  Once I was back above ground I quickly looked around and got my bearings.  In no time I had walked to the building I was supposed to be at and entered.  There were students everywhere and a man at the door jabbering away in French pointing in all directions.  I tried my best to use context clues, but there were just too many possibilities.  I surrendered and asked the man at the door for instructions on what to do.  He asked if it was my first time there and I said it was.  He handed me a card (Number 23) and pointed down the hall giving me directions in French that somehow I understood.

I entered room 3F and walked up to a man seated at a table.  I asked if he spoke English and he replied "a little", and so it began.  For the next few minutes we chatted back and forth, him in broken English, me in very broken French, and in the end I was told to come back tomorrow and to present this card to the front desk and they would make me take a test that I would have to pass.  Pass.  His word, not mine. At the time, and now looking back, I really hope he meant "take".  To say "pass" suggests that I have to do well, and considering the subject matter is the French language and I only this morning managed to order my first food items without blunder I figured I wasn't really ready to do any "passing".  Just skating by would do me fine.  Or flunking as long as it meant I would be put in some rudimentary course and not kicked out on the street and ridiculed as being the stupidest American they had seen yet.  I suppose we shall find out tomorrow.  My mind says everything will be fine, but my gut says hide under a bridge and don't ever come out.
With that thought tucked away I stepped back out onto the street and looked around.  What to do?  That took all of ten minutes and yielded nothing.  My only other goal for the day was to find a power adaptor, and I had a guess as to where one might be.
Because I was feeling bold, or silly (things like that walk a tight line) I decided to walk back to my apartment, stopping by Nation along the way where there was supposed to be a Darty (a kind of superstore for electronics).  I had not yet walked anywhere except to get on the Metro and then maybe a few blocks away from a station, so I figured it was time to learn the city the best way I know how.  By walking randomly that-a-way.  Okay, it wasn't so random.  I had that map I downloaded and I had a rough idea of my desired direction of travel, so I was off.  If anyone is curious (and I know you all are) you should go on to google maps and take a look at my little journey.  Paris is bigger than I expected and that walk was farther than I wanted it to be.  Go, on, don't be shy.  Walk with me.
Enter in as a starting point: 16 bis rue de l’Estrapade - 75005 Paris
Ending: 8 rue du Repos - 75020 Paris
If google tries to take you some fancy short-cutty way don't forget that you need to cut through Nation, it's that big round-a-bout where Voltaire meets with Faubourg Saint-Antoine, Diderot, and several others.
A couple things I learned.  Paris is big and it makes you sleepy if you have to walk across it and haven't eaten much and didn't sleep the night before and are named John.  Actually, that was all I learned.  Oh, but the power adaptor!  Found one.  Granted the only three prong adaptor I could find was a multi-adaptor that was good for every country on the globe and cost me 30 euro.  Why did I buy it?  Because I was desperate and I was holding the thing in my hands, and the last time I turned on my computer it begged me for power and you know I can't resist a good begging.  Just ask any bum in Chicago who has gotten food or change from me over the past couple of years.
All in all, this has been my most successful day yet.  My computer lives once again, I'm super tired so I know I'm going to sleep tonight, I got told to come back tomorrow at the Sorbonne (always a pleasure), and I had a near perfect French morning.  In fact if I knew a little more French I would honestly consider never moving back after a morning like that (sorry mom - good news though, I don't know any more French).  Well, I think it's time I polish off that bottle of wine I bought and start looking for dinner options.  I've been operating on two meals a day so far, so let's see if I can turn it around.





Au revoir