22 November 2013
Sometimes I look back over the course of the week and I just don’t feel as though I did that much. But then I go through my pictures and see that while I (perhaps) wasn’t as culturally active as I could have been, I definitely had some great experiences which definitely go a long way to canceling out the lack of museum visits and “traditional” culture. After all, true French culture isn’t always found in a museum; take a look at my last blog, for example. Anyway, I had a few cultural experiences this week, one of which was totally unexpected, and which is the main topic of this post. The other, a wonderful tour of an architectural gem, will get some attention in the next blog.
Last Saturday I was invited to a little soirée chez Romy and Charlie, friends by way of Trinity in Hartford. With Ann Lawson I showed up in their apartment, vodka in one hand, orange juice and tonic water in the other. (Anybody that knows me will understand my disappointment that cranberry juice is sort of difficult to find here.) Anyway… when we arrived, who would be there but another French friend from Trinity - the only one that I still hadn’t seen since my arrival in September - Charlène. It was so nice to see her again, and she brought along a friend of hers, so we had a nice little gathering. We caught up, sipped our drinks, chatted, played with Romy and Charlie’s cat Achoom, and then decided to walk across to the Right Bank to go to a bar and continue our night . I’ll be the first to admit that I didn’t really want to go out and go to a bar, but in the end I will also be the first to admit that it was so much fun. We had a blast! And by the time I got home sometime after 4 in the morning, I was honestly very happy that I had gone out!
What says France better than empty glasses, empty bottles of wine, and a bowl full of cigarette butts?
The hosts.
At Bar Oz, around 2:30 am
On Sunday Ann Lawson and I went off to the Champs Elysées to visit the Christmas market, which opened last week, but which neither of us had yet visited. It doesn’t change a great deal from year to year, but it’s always crowded and there are plenty of things to buy as gifts and to eat. Oh and it’s great people watching. I always think it’s interesting to see how the French celebrate Christmas compared to us the US and I think the Christmas market gives a pretty good look into that.
The Christmas Market and a smoker
This moose needs some help with his antlers.
La Grande Roue and the Obelisk in the Place de la Concorde. The ferris wheel is only there for the Christmas Season.
On Monday I did a bunch of little things that I’d been putting off, but by the time dinner was over I was ready to go on a nice long stroll. After all, it was edging up on 10 o’clock at night: it was time for a walk! As I often do, I walked up to Trocadéro to see my favorite view of the Eiffel Tower, which was made infinitely better due to the very full moon and due to the fact that I arrived just as the tower itself was sparkling. It was really beautiful and I stayed for a little while to see the lights twinkle and to watch the tourists fight over getting that one certain spot which they are all convinced will lead to the best photos.
Even though it was cold, the night was clear and I thought I should do a bit more walking, so I started in the direction of the Arc de Triomphe thinking I could do a stroll down the Champs Elysées before heading back home. I was about half way to the Arch itself and I noticed that it looked very smoky at the end of the street and that everything was illuminated in a very ominous red light. I thought that seemed very odd, but it just added intrigue to my adventure. After all, something might be happening, and I would hate to miss it. I hadn’t even completed this thought before I saw fireworks going off. Now I had to see what was going on. Just a few minutes later I was the Étoile, that storied area around the triumphal arch of Napoléon which, when seen from above, looks like a star.
I was shocked by what I saw: there were people everywhere. The circular road around the Arc de Triomphe was totally blocked. There were cars headed in every which direction, including some that were parked in the middle of the road! Only a few cars were actually moving, and they were doing so like crazies! Like the road, the sidewalks were teeming with people, most of whom were carrying flags that I recognized only as a North African or Middle Eastern flag. (American school system flaw: I am not very good at recognizing world flags… but I had to memorize the entire preamble to the Constitution. You tell me, which is more useful in the Real World?)
Looking away from the Champs Elysées, in the direction of La Défense I noticed some blue flashing lights, then something lit up bright red. Ohhhh… excitement over in that direction. And like a crow to diamonds, I had my target identified and I was en route. As I was headed in that direction I noticed somebody throw a firework and I actually saw it explode off the side of the Arc de Triomphe. Okay, I thought to myself, maybe I’ll be careful. This could get crazy.
Fireworks explode off the side of the arch itself.
Whatever this event was, these people were very happy about something, but I couldn’t figure it out. I tried to understand what they were saying, but they weren’t all speaking with perfect diction and enunciation. Imagine that: a manifestation without perfect grammar or diction. The nerve. Finally I figured it out: One, Two, Sree, Viva Algérie! (Sree is what three sounds like when a French person says it, FYI.) Okay, so at least I knew what this flag I was seeing was: the Algerian flag.
Flares and fireworks were found in abundance
I think this is a pretty cool photo. Also notice the truck full of celebrating Algerians to the right.
After spending a bit of time on the La Défense side of the Arc de Triomphe and seeing that the road to La Défense was completely blocked as well I decided to head toward the Champs Elysées to see what happening over there. Who knew? It might be interesting.
As I meandered toward the Champs Elysées, weaving in and among the cars that were stopped in the road and trying to get around groups of people carrying enormous Algerian flags, I couldn’t help but notice how enormous this was. There were hundreds of cars in the area around the Arc de Triomphe with people on the roofs or hanging out of the windows holding up the Algerian flag. There was at least one delivery truck that had people climbing up onto the roof of the cab and sliding down the windshield, only to do it again and again. It was crazy! As I arrived at the Champs Elysées itself, I noticed the arrival of the first group of riot police. This was getting real. They walked right into the road and started trying to take control of the situation. A futile attempt, to be sure. Nothing changed and they soon resigned themselves to crowd control, probably trying to make sure nobody killed themselves due to their own stupidity.
An officer is mocked by a very excited Algerian hanging out of a car.
I started walking down the Champs Elysées only to find huge groups of riot police arriving- billy clubs, shields, helmets, and guns, all at the ready. Nonetheless I kept on walking like I knew what I was doing. Everything was going well until a group of at least 200 people suddenly started running in my direction, running away from smoke. For a minute, I was pretty scared. Apparently somebody had aimed a firework or flare in their direction and they were afraid of being hurt. Let me tell you, when you’re in the middle of a riot and 200 people all head in your direction screaming like crazy animals, it’s a terrifying moment.
The arrival of additional riot police.
Still I kept walking, avoiding the masses running in my direction and feeling less and less secure as things got more and more scary and more out of control, despite the arrival of additional riot police. Around 11:20pm I heard the official call over the police radios for all the police to take off their little fabric hats and to put on their helmets and face shields. That was my cue to head toward the métro and head back to the quiet and calm of the 16th.
It was definitely time to leave!
It wasn’t until the next day that I figured out what was going on. Algeria was playing in the final game to figure out who was going to play in the FIFA World Cup. Well they won. And the Algerians were celebrating. It was certainly quite a celebration! And what an interesting adventure into this aspect of French culture. In the next entry we’ll look at a completely different part of French culture, a part that doesn’t exist in the same way it once did, but which left an incredible mark on Paris.
PS - I’d like to thank everybody who wrote me messages to make sure that I was alive while Paris was under the threat of a crazy man who was running around with a gun shooting people. Oh yeah, that would be a whopping ZERO people. Thanks much for your care and concern. It’s really appreciated… You can sleep soundly now, he’s been caught.
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