Poem: A lovely day in Paris: Le métro

The air is chilled out side the dungeon steps that descend to the stench below.

Autumn brings the colored leaves to rest about my feet.

I don't want to go below.

I wish to wait for the bus and go by street.

I read the sign... no bus... I bellow “no”

I guess I must go below.

As I descend those stairs, my pass quickens, hurry, hurry.

The hustle bustle is almost more than I can bear.

What a stench there is below!

A resonating tone, the doors slide shut we are off.

The man jammed next to me!

His face is smashed against the window.

We are sardines in is boxcar.

 The scene is rather frantic here below.

Claustrophobic frightened eyes dart about in a furry.

Hurry, hurry as the doors close tight.

There is a good variety in the metro.

From all over the people are closed tightly together.

Two stops left before I take flight.

My relief... speaker, “we having technical difficulties, we will be moving shortly”

My relief has taken flight before I,

Am closed tight, next to Monsieur,

We start to move.

Two stops later, I arrive late.

I begin the first flight of steps from below

There are two to go.

One

The last... a blast of cool air slows my assault.

Gasp!

Freedom.   

Sharing Music

In today's digital age, where information is shared by the terabyte and just by logging into the world wide web one has access to more information than man has ever even dreamed of knowing. News is updated by the second, books are read by screens and music is downloaded. Today people talk about the international “community”. The sharing of ideas, lifestyles as becoming such an innovation. The sharing of culinary ideas: American households find themselves cooking a dinner of pasta, tomato sauce and mozzarella with a dessert of crème brulée. Mean while a traditional Italian family in Italy is frying up the barbeque and throwing the French fries in oven. This exchange of culture has changed our ways of life in fantastic and strange ways. But there is one thing that just hasn't rung a bell yet. Where is the exchange of music?

Walking throught the latin quarters in Paris  one hears the thump of the new era as well as the blasting trumpet of Americas past time all mixed together with the true Paris music of “amour.” If you happened to be in Italy, not only would you hear the latest Italian hits, But also America’s weekly top 40. European youth is largely influenced by artists from the United states. Yet the contradiction is that In America, (certain exceptions, of course) one finds it hard to find such a vast musical culture. You can’t turn on the radio and expect to hear Jovanotti and Christophe Maé. In fact while the music in Europe and all over the world is entering the lives of people and changing their language and the travels of their lives. The American Population is closed inside of their continent, the walls of oceans blocking the culture and music that could make a difference in the way we think, speak, and even party.

In today's digital age it is possible to become musically enriched. We are ignorant to not take advantage of the benefits of foreign music. By stepping out of the box we might, by the terabyte, begin to feel worldlier by Sharing music and the love.

Arrival to language

“Mesdames et Messieurs, nous allons bientôt atterrir à Paris, la température est  de 26 degrés et il y a de soleil. Merci d’avoir voyagé avec Air France. Nous vous souhaitons un bon séjour à Paris et à bientôt. Ladies and gentlemen, we will be landing shortly in Paris, where the weather is about 26 degrees Celsius and sunny. Thank you for flying with Air France. We wish you a pleasant stay in Paris and hope to fly with you soon.”

            It was a long flight; I remember it all too well, my trip away from all that was familiar, and my voyage to a new beginning. I would be starting all over in every way: a new city, new apartment, new friends, new life, but most of all a new language. The challenging part about learning a new language made me return to my infancy and a childlike panic of being misunderstood. This was the second time in just two years that I had experienced these feelings, first in Italy and now in France.

            Learning a new language is something that Americans aren’t driven to do. Most of us daydream or stare in envy at others speaking foreign tongues. “Wow!” we say, “I am so jealous. Someday I would like to learn one as well.” New languages to us are not looked at as important. We assume that English is the international language, and thus, we have the right to go wherever we please, --saying “hello, goodbye, thank you, (and the best one) excuse me, sir, do you speak English.” This is so common; I hear it on a daily basis. Someday, we will have to step outside of ourselves and offer a greeting that is familiar to the other party. --“bonjour, salue, bongiorno, ciao!” Americans might then be thought of as less pretentious.

"C’est la vie.” No matter how difficult it was for me, a former Star Valley resident, to adapt, I had to keep the thought in mind that it was possible, and the reward was much more than I could perceive the reward was seeing the “chef d'oeuvres” (masterpieces) of the Louvre, the immense cultural intake, the Bateau Mouche (a sight-seeing, romantic boat ride) that snakes its way down the Seine, showing off the wonders of Paris or even just simply sitting at a sidewalk table at the Café de Louvre (a chic café next to the Louvre) in front of the Comedie Française (a theatre opened in 1799). No, It is much more subtle. It is a humility that only going abroad and all its experiences can offer.

            They say that you can take the boy out of the country, but you can’t take the country out of the boy. Who we are is who we are, but this doesn’t mean that we are completely confined to the barriers of our birth. Most students go to their language classes just to pass the time, learning another language is just a side attraction. I know because I have done just that, I used to take Spanish. I would show up for class and flip through the book, take notes that I would never again look at. What I didn’t understand was that actually learning the material could have opened a whole other world for me. Communication is first thing we attempt at birth, as time goes by it becomes a strength and a connection but more than anything it brought me humility. Opening up to someone in their own language is, stepping outside of ones personal barriers but also a chance that they might step out of theirs as well, listening to each other’s stories and becoming a part of humanity.  

People are like the words of a romantic novel; we are emotions in words. We write out our own stories unconsciously, each one a chapter in our own personal biography. The reviewing process can be tedious but to make the same repetitive errors in future chapters is a life without progression.

Unfortunately, most of us write these chapters with words that have no meaning to humanity. In breaking our barriers and speaking the language of humanity we can be understood anywhere in the world.  We adapt to survive, but the comfort of our own homes holds us back from these opportunities. The unknown, beyond the front door, is the fear that restrains us. It is easier after one takes the first step.   

As I made my way towards the exit of the plane the stewardess looked me in the eyes and said “Au revoir monsieur.” I stopped and smiled “Au revoir madame, bonne journée” as I stepped off the plane.