I sat there at the almost deserted railway station waiting for the next train to Paris. I had a formal shirt and skirt and flip flops and a trenchcoat on for the rain (with pumps and suit jacket in my bag). It poured today, like even the skies were disappointed with me. I was disappointed with me. I could hear the radio clearly… My first French joke on the radio..I got it. I chuckled. Then they played a really sad song. It was a French song or rather a Franglais song (French+English). But I understood every word. About a man saying adieu to his girlfriend, his family and his country. I was that man, except he was saying goodbye to Haiiti and I was shivering in the cold with wet feet.
My interview went well, reasonably well, not superb. I did make some mistakes. Can you believe it was right next to, practically on the Champs-Elysees? Two blocks away from the main round about…I walked past Christie’s auction house. There was an antique boutique in the building of the firm I interviewed with. People were friendly with directions..At one point, I asked young boys (who looked local)..”ou se trouve avenue matignon?” and the kid says in his best yankee accent “We dont speak French”..”Sorry guys!”
So then I really asked the locals.. two men behind the counter of a fast food joint and two women smoking at the door. Women who stand out building gates, smoking, with that nonchalant look on their face..have got to be local.
It’s a beautiful place, but in the rain, as I walked around recapping every abuse that had been hurled at me the day before, it all seemed melancholy and futile. So I slipped into the dirty, sticky metro and took the train back home. I was hoping they’d play that cute sugababes song.
It’s a cute song…a bit catchy, a bit ironic given the theme.
Can we bring yesterday back around,
‘Cus I know how I feel about you now,
I was dumb, I was wrong, I let you down,
But I know how I feel about you now
They didn’t, so I listened to Chris Martin becuase he always knows the tunes that tug my heart strings.