IMHO

(Can't) Forget Paris

Rissa O, one of my dearest sorority sisters, legislative and corporate securities expert, Bar buddy (in tandem with Liberty D! Geishas unite...) and forever kunsintidor-ng-walang-katapusang-kakiligan from *bleep* to *bleep* and back to *bleep* he he... OK I haven't even finished that last sentence yet: Rissa O is going to Paris. To the Université Paris I Panthéon-Sorbonne, no less, for the Cornell Law International and Comparative Law Program (the same one I completed in 2002 and which Leah O also attended in 2003...teka muna, how come only Portians with the surname "O" seem to get into the Program, weird!).

Anyway, had dinner with her and my Paris-bosom-buddy V during the electrical storm the other night, to orient Reese my sees on what to expect in the City of Lights. This reunion with V (who I never see in Manila except when he comes to give me my Christmas present!) was uncannily coincidental with H's and our fellow Sorbonne-Cornellian Suzy Q-my-soulsistah in Sweden this week. Wala lang.

I know there was a time when all I wanted to do was "Forget Paris," but how can you forget the most unforgettable destination in the world? The most beautiful city, hands down, that swept me off my feet the first time I cast my eyes on it, so much so that my heart's desire of living there, even for a short while, later became a thrilling reality. Sure, after a while you begin to realize that it's not all picture-perfect and that dogs poop on the sidewalk 24/7 and that the Metro stinks up during summer rush hour and that there is no such thing as airconditioning or ice in your drink. And that your dearest and nearest are 50 million light years away. It's hard to believe that four years have passed since those days at the Sorbonne; but it's funny that the memories that are most vivid are the beautiful, heartwarming ones.

Memories of daring to "assault" Paris on my terms by hopping on a bus from the airport and immediately getting lost in the city on my very first visit; of jawdropping architectural beauty and unbelievable vistas. Of running through the Louvre - pre Da Vinci Code - and walking down the Seine 'til my blisters bled. Oh, the Seine: mute witness to my ever-shifting moods, from ecstasy to blissful contentment to indifference to melancholy. Savannah, the albino boxer entrusted to me by dear J along with his apartment and Julien, was a constant companion on those walks by the river, down the streets of the 13th arrondisement in the early mornings when my roomies H and Dave were still in dreamland, and, for the most part, in my bed (which was a PITA at 6 a.m. when she needed to GO and would literally drag me from the 3rd floor to the sidewalk! just so she could do her business). What a pain. But what a sweetheart. Just like Paris.

Exquisitely landscaped gardens you could spend the whole afternoon in - the Jardin du Luxembourg near the school and on my RER stop, the Place des Vosges, the Parc du Floral of the Paris Jazz Fest - picnicking, drinking wine and eating cheese and just talking for hours on end. Little cafes on the Left Bank to just hang out in - on St Germaine and St Michel; the bistros on Rue Mouffetard; the bars - since I hung out mostly with English speakers, they were mostly American/Irish/Australian bars, bah! -at the Marais (gay district!) or the Latin clubs on the Champs Elysees and at the Bastille. Come day time, the fabulous street markets all over the city - the most marvelous exhibition of fresh produce, wine, cheese, bread, and what have you...think Farmer's Cubao dead and resurrected in heaven. The Champion supermarches, the small Arab-run alimentari , the big Asian market in the 13eme (the smell of durian right at the entrance made me want to weep and kiss the ground! My moits Dave from Sydney and Stockholm's Suzy Q were thoroughly grossed out by the pig parts and innards...hehe) the brasseries, patisseries, don't get me started about shopping now...

My goodness. And that's just Paris we've been talking about; haven't gotten around yet to the Côte d'Azur or Provence or Normandy or Cedric's weird Paris-suburban-friends...

Hmmm, I loved Paris, I hated Paris, I'd like to go back to Paris to love and hate and write about it some more. Perhaps one day soon. Next year perhaps? Who knows :-)

* Photo is of me, dearest V, and Suzy Q by the La Grande Arche de La Défense, modern-day alter ego of the more famous Arc de Triomphe; both monuments lie on the axe historique. Basta, there's a method to their madness!

posted by Honey Oliveros @ 8:37 PM