A Rough Start Might Just Lead To Success!

28 Septembre 2007

I’m already being scolded and I haven’t even started working yet! Liz and I went to the school this morning, as usual, to check our email and see what our day might consist of. Céline approached me in the salle des profs and told me that I wasn’t allowed to have Liz in the school since she wasn’t technically employed at our school. After explaining Liz’s situation, Céline also told me that Liz would have to move out of the apartment because my new roommate was officially here. I explained that Mickel didn’t have a problem with Liz staying with us until she found a place. Although Céline was sympathetic to Liz’s situation she wouldn’t move from her position. I went to see Serge soon after, because I wanted to see if her could help Liz out. He made some efforts to contact her school, because of the difficulty of getting into the school, as well as trying to find her somewhere to stay. I asked him if she really had to move out and he told me yes, in principal, but honestly, he didn’t have a problem with her staying if it was kept just between him, Mickel and me. I thanked him for all his assistance and went to get Liz, who was waiting outside of the school. We went to HSBC later in the afternoon to open my bank account, which I had all the necessary documents, except the attestation (verification) of employment and housing from the school. Daphné Soffer, the bank representative who was very nice with me and did her best to speak English, made copies of all my documents and told me that I could return the following week and my account would be open, provided that I return with the other necessary documents she requested. Let me just say that the French love their papers! I swear that there is paper for everything. I provided proof of employment, proof of housing insurance (wouldn’t that be proof enough for residence??), proof of identification, proof of eligibility to work in France…how much more do they need!?! Seriously. After all that, Liz wanted to go check her email again, since we still hadn’t heard anything from her school (about her first official meeting with her teacher) or from the potential roommate. We stopped at the Gare de Lyon and went to an Internet café that charges 5€ per hour for access! (At the time, we didn’t know that that was considered expensive.) Unfortunately, she had no real news, so we decided to go to Notre Dame. When we got there, it was raining and super crowded with tourists. Once inside, there was a mass going on, so Liz and I sat in on the service. I watched for awhile and then I wanted to take pictures inside, since they permit them. The most amusing thing I found, and I still don’t know why, was that they have open confessionals where the priests speak multiple languages. So if you’re in France but you speak Chinese and you feel the need to confess your sins, you can with the père (father) that speaks your language. I shouldn’t be surprised by this, but I can’t help it, it amuses me. Church for the masses. Because of Notre Dame’s layout, I had to walk around the back of the church to get all of my good pictures. By the time I was done walking around the back of the church, the mass was over! The overall ambience of the church was peaceful and honestly, I think it made Liz feel a little better, since she wasn’t having much luck so far in France. We decided to cheer ourselves up, we would go out for dinner somewhere, but we had no idea where to being looking or where to go. I had forgotten the name of the street that my airplane neighbor had suggested to me on where she liked to eat in Paris. To feel more adventurous, I randomly choose a metro station to stop at, which happened to be Richelieu Drouot, and see what there was to select from. When we got out of the metro, it felt like we hit the jackpot, because there were all sorts of recognizable places: our first Parisian Starbucks, Haagen-Dazs, KFC, McDonald’s, Subway, as well as a couple Internet cafes. We ventured around the neighborhood a bit and ended up at a super nice Italian restaurant called La Boite d’Italie. There, I had a supper tasty wood-grilled four-cheese pizza with mushrooms (of course!) and Liz had a calzone. To share, I ordered the chocolate mousse, which featured both dark and white chocolate with a drizzle of honey. What a nice meal after such a crappy day! I encouraged Liz to call the number of the woman who offered the apartment, but Liz was afraid that 9:45 was too late. After a slight bit more persuasion, Liz called from a phone box and had success! The girl, named Marie from the ad, answered and they were able to set up a time to get together to see the place. Liz asked me afterwards if I would come with her to see the place and of course, I told her I would. What an exciting evening for Liz!