Le 7 décembre 2004.
Even though I already wrote about three pages today, I’ve just been wanting to write all night. Arrangements have been worked out for my weekend in Paris- and my giddiness abates not. After making arrangements to stay with Kim, I called Amelia to tell her that I would be in on Thursday night, luckily after her work hours are over, though it would be cool to see her internship! Imagine, Amelia the smart young professional speaking and handling details in French. It’s just great to be met in a train station. Unlike in an airport, you can still wait for someone on the quay and greet them as they get off the car. Whether I’m meeting someone or being met, it’s just such a great experience. I never got to meet anyone in Toulouse. It was too far for Kristen to come and the program was so intensive that there wasn’t much time to meet someone, so no one came to Toulouse. I had loads of fun during my time there, but there would be days when I would walk along the streets and think, I need to remember to take so-and-so here, we should go there, this view is just so lovely they can’t miss this, and I am getting so good at directions. The closest I’ve come to playing tour guide in Toulouse is sending Amelia a double length SMS on the Ville Rose. I relish that Amelia is getting to show me Paris; I know that she has already shown her family, but its so much fun when you get to be the tour guide for someone and impart all the little details that you know, showing of your intimate acquaintance with a place you love dearly. Hence I’m excited to be shown Paris by someone who is as good as a Parisenne as anyone else.
And the walls shook and the ground tumbled…
Le 7 décembre 2004.
Rather startlingly, I almost forgot to mention the earthquake. As was the only other earthquake I’ve ever been through, it was nothing extreme. Apparently around a five on the Richter scale, the epicenter was in Freiberg Germany, where coincidentally Melissa was visiting her boyfriend Marcus for the weekend. Around 3am, I heard a loud thud as though something rather large (more so than a raccoon) was hitting our building and the ground shifted, as did my creaky bed. It was so reminiscent of the one I felt this summer, with it’s epicenter in Chicago, I automatically thought, oh that’s an earthquake. Except this time I didn’t think a raccoon had run into the side of the building, rather that the wall had made a loud thump. But I find it odd that a girl from the Midwest, who has never been in an earthquake- thankfully! I’d choose a tornado if the choice had to be made- has now lived through two, though small, earthquakes in less than six months. And I’m not even in California!
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