Bienvenue! Wilkommen!

So 2 continents, 5 countries, 9 timezones, 2 planes, 3 trains later, 48 hours later (only 8 of it sleep), je suis à Paris! If you're lucky enough to get this, I'm pecking away on a French keyboard (like the a and q are switched, the numbers are all shifted and none of the punctuation is in the same place) in the middle of Paris. I'm totally jet lagged, I'm running purely on cafè au lait and gummibaren, and I couldn't be having more fun. Once I left the flughapfen (airport), I left British Airways and English behind. I will say I will never ever ever think poorly of anyone who doesn't speak English again. Actually people have been parfait (perfect). After being seriously cut down to size by ein Farhkartenautomat (Train ticket machine. Können Ihren Karte nicht gelesen? Oh, couldn't read your card.), some questions came out of nowhere and simple questions were difficult. (Mein Name? Joe... Jay Ooo Eee, Carlin, um, Say Aay Ray Lay Eye Nay... they pronounce the alphabet different. Klein oder Grosse? Oh, duh, big or small.) Oh yeah, and my dictionary turned out to be wrong. (Ich möchte einschreiben. Oh, einchecken? Duh, check in, einchecken, DUH.) And then some people just look at me and start speaking English. (Do I look obviously that American? As it turns out, of all things my jeans gave me away. Carhartt's are made and sold only the US and the color was a dead giveaway too. (It wasn't bad, just made me easy to figure I'm American. That's okay. When I didn't understand someone's French question today, his next question was Si habla Espanol? I've never been confused for Spanish before!) So I was so happy to get into my room and the TV was on. It said: Hertzliche Wilkommen im Köln Herr Carlin! Gloria: surprisingly I did use your tip. In Cologne a women almost slipped on the sidewalk so I said Achtung! (She said vielen Dank!) I went out last night and talked for an hour with a guy who was in the same boat as me, just the reverse. He grew up in Germany and only had two years English and only used it once on a trip to America. (Subsitute Germany, English and Amercia with America, German and Germany and you have me.) So I would say something im Deutsche und ir werdt answer back in English. I had a serious hangover this morning from all the bier. Soon enough es alles kommt zuruck zu mich. (It all comes back to me.) I had the best time. There's just something so powerful about being in a foreign country and speaking a foreign language. Not fluent by far, but I realized something: Gay men everywhere always talk about the same thing. It's like going to the Opera. Know that select vocabulary and you'll do just fine. Oh yeah, I learned a bunch of word Frau Sundin never taught me. One guy even said he thought it was so sexy when Americans speak German. I felt very Welcome. :-)

So this morning I boarded a train for Paris. The weirdest thing happen. I'm sitting in Erste Klasse and everyone around me is speaking German. We cross the border and guess what happens? Everyone starts speaking French. I mean the -same- people. It was like Amityville Horror when that kid walks around the house singing and everytime he goes into a room, he goes silent. When he walks out, he picks up right where he left off. It was just like that, but instead of going silent, everyone starts speaking a different language. So I broke out my very broken French and a cute attendant says "au Anglias?" I said "No no no I gotta practice" and he laughed. I was out and about when my camera battery died. I went into a store with a little old lady behind the counter. "Bon jour! Allez vous batteries?" I asked. She asked what type. "Deux A" She grabbed them, "çe?" "Oui" "Trois Euro quatre-vignt-cinq, sil vous plait." I hand her a 10 Euro. "six, cinqze" as she handed out the change "Merci!" "Merci beaucoup, au revior!" "Au revoir!" I walked out with fresh batteries and a huge sense of empowerment that that little old lady had no idea I was from the land of 59 million idiots. :-) (I've already joked that's why I escaped to Europe.)

So I continued on taking pictures. And as Madonna once brilliantly said, nothing cheers a girl quite like shopping. She said that in Paris too. And I know why. I walked in a shop and picked up the cutest shirt. I tried it on, and I had to have it. (Holy crap those French boys are skinny, not like those European cut shirts.) I totally pulled a Will. (On Will & Grace, Will goes to Paris and comes back with a fabulous pair of jeans, only to find out their actually women's jeans.) So either French men's shirts zipper on the other side or it was a women's shirt. I didn't care. 25 Euros and c'est magnifique! I totally got it, gender be dammed. :-)

So anyways, I'm outta here. I'm gonna go take a nap before checking out the nightlife. Mehr später!

FYI, if I log into the work email from Paris, why is it coming up au François? :-) (I'm totally not kidding.)