Olfactory Onslaught

I’m a veteran rider of the NYC subway, so I’m used to the intoxicating bouquet of urine, BO, trash, and that certain “je ne sais quoi” that makes it ever so joyful to spend time waiting on the platform. But this morning, an odor so surprising wafted through the Metro, I thought I must be dreaming – first of all, it didn’t make me want to dry heave, and secondly, it actually smelled delicious! Whoever decided to open a boulangerie underground was a genius. Mmm, just the smell of croissants made me giddy…And then, in my periphery, I saw it: a small yet steaming pile of dog shit, right there for anyone to step in on their way to the exit. Thankfully I didn’t, but the juxtaposition of sensations was comical, one that in retrospect somewhat serves as a metaphor for the day I’ve had. We can score today’s experiences on a scale of croissants (woohoo) to dog poop (blech).

Not having the carte de sejour, like, 5 days ago has been a barrier to progress. Without it, I cannot legally work in France, open my own bank account, get my own cell phone…I probably can’t even buy cheese (but given the French’s penchant for skirting the law, there’s probably a loophole I can exploit). The process takes a while, as we were required to register our US marriage with the French government (a document that took over a month to arrive this summer), I had to get a visa (done in SF), and then finally on the Paris side, I need proof of lodging before Nate and I can go to the police station and I can (hopefully instantly) get the CDS. This should be cleared up within a week’s time, but until then, croissants 0, dog poop 1.

Let me reiterate my utter adoration of the Metro. It’s SO easy to use and super fast. In SF, I often waited 15-20 minutes for a train; sometimes in Queens close to 10. Never more than 3 minutes here, and I’ve been on more than half of the 14 Metro lines so far. [Not to mention that when certain commuters are in danger of missing a train, they run like their lives depend on it – rather than wait the (gasp!) 3 minutes max. for the next one.] I had 3 interviews today, all in widely different parts of Paris, and it was a cakewalk getting everywhere. Croissants 1, dog poop 0.

My first two interviews were extremely successful. One was at a language school targeted to businesses (I knew those 5 years in the corporate world would come in extra handy), while the other was at a language school that caters to individual learners. Both schools would be delighted to employ me as soon as I get that pesky carte de sejour. Croissants 0.8, dog poop 0.2.


After these two victories, I was feeling pretty darn good. I had time to kill until interview #3, so I walked along the Seine for a while, admiring the views of Notre Dame in the distance and a bit closer by, a veritable tent city of squatters (see photo).
So there I am, minding my own business, when I pass a large dumpster, and out of nowhere, a huge plank of wood comes flying out of it and forcefully lands on my big toe. Turns out an urban worker carelessly tossed the wood out of the dumpster, oblivious to any possible pedestrian traffic. A passerby, observing the entire incident, could not contain her disgust at the culprit’s deed. She started bellowing at the worker as I’m staring in dismay at my toe, which is now gushing blood onto my cute open-toed shoe as well as the sidewalk. Thank goodness I had tissues and band-aids on me; after a little riverside first-aid I was almost good as new, a slight limp notwithstanding. I was more aggravated that this happened en route to an interview than anything else. Croissants 0, dog poop 1.

Anyhow, the third interview was at an elite bilingual private school. The headmistress also wants to hire me, but cannot do so until I have my CDS. The other hitch is that classes begin next Wednesday, a tad too soon considering I’d have to ramp up on the school’s policies, set up a classroom, and start planning curriculum for (count ‘em) 7 preps, meaning 7 different courses. That’s more than double the amount of preps I taught last year. My teaching schedule would be a bit lighter, as the English department doesn’t teach on Mondays and I wouldn’t be teaching for the entire day Tuesday through Friday. However, the pay is less than at the other jobs I was offered, and I’d be working doggedly just to keep my head above water. I’m leaving this one to fate, because if I don’t get the CDS in time, I’ll spare myself an agonizingly huge workload at this particular job. Baked goods 0.5, feces 0.5.

This evening Nate’s very sweet family friends invited us out to dinner. We were set to meet at their apartment building in the 7th, literally around the corner from the Eiffel Tower. I hadn’t planned to visit the landmark so soon, but there it was, in all its glory. After taking the requisite photo and briefly lounging on the Champs de Mars, we met up with the Levy-Rueffs and enjoyed a lovely dinner at a restaurant in the Bois de Boulogne. Once again, it was wonderful to connect with people who are looking out for us. Croissants…Am I still keeping score?


More interviews to follow this week and next. I’m definitely waiting until the round is done to weigh my options, but it’s reassuring to know that I’m in demand. All I need is for the CDS angels to smile on me and grant me this one piece of paper that holds the key to my life in Paris.