If They Ask ‘Ca va?’ Say ‘Ca va’

9/11/2015

When in Paris…

If they ask “Ca va?” say “Ca va”. Open your lips, get a taste of it, let it roll off your tongue gently. At this point people you meet will be acting strange, like they want a kiss, or something. Don’t fret. Kiss them on both cheeks. Do this whenever you meet people. This happens often! You might walk by yourself and run into a group of people where you know someone. Or you might be with a friend and he or she will run into a group of folks where they know someone. If there are ten people in the group repeat ten times. That’s twenty kisses. They’ll call you out if you forget someone!

— Oh, that’s Clemau. — Oh, that’s Bernardo. — Oh, that’s Ismail. We play together sometimes. Montmartre Progressive Experience. Do you like the name? — Oh, that’s Jean. — Oh, that’s Symon ‘Beau Gosse’. — Don’t call me that! — What did you say? — It means ‘Pretty boy’. It’s all inside jokes, dear. — That’s Patrick, he was on 9Gag. What, you don’t know 9Gag? It’s an American website! You should know it. — Oh, that’s Felix. — You know the cat, too? — Of course!

You won’t arrive at your destination without saying “Bonsoir” to at least a few groups of people you meet in the street en route. That’s a lot of kisses. C’est las vie. Get used to it. Welcome to Paris.

If your apartment is on the ground floor facing the street your new friends will quickly scope you out. It doesn’t matter that your window is only half open signaling to the public that you are not immediately available for a conversation. And that there are grape leaves all over it signaling that this is a private residency. And that you are hiding behind the chair. Or better yet emerging from the bathroom in a shower cap. They will find you behind that chair, and they will greet you. Like you’ve never been greeted before.

Starting the conversation with a gorgeous black goddess on the train. Her purple eyeshadows are like two giant wings, spectacular. I think both parties understand that we “can’t sit with her”. We’re still sitting with her. Asking, ‘Has she ever been to Toulouse?’ ‘No, why?’ Why not? Talking to people who drink espresso out of those tiny cups on the streets. Everyone smokes. They always need a lighter or a cigarette. This facilitates communication. Easy peasy. Talking to Petanque players through the railing of the tennis court. Asking people reading on the Louvre lawn if they’d like to come with us. Where? We have no idea. We are just figuring it out just like you are. Come!

Talking to people is easy, like sniffing cheese. Everyone can sniff cheese! It’s easy, but also exhausting. Walking across the Louvre with Jean and Tristan. I met them yesterday night at the gathering of street musicians on the staircase by Sacre Ceur. Victor introduced me. I met Victor the day before. He played bass on the staircase on Rue Drevet. I was passing by with the camera. Today Jean and his friend walked on me in the grass at the grand Sacre Ceur staircase. I heard somebody saying “Marina?” above my head while I was pushing the shutter button. It was Jean. Honestly, the stairscases are never-ending. Like my shutter clicks.

Jean said “Everyone needs to get lost in Paris”. “It’s the best thing you can do here.” We went to the barbershop row in that little hood off Pigalle to pick up Tristan. He was having his hair braided. Hairdresser’s own long chubby neon fuchsia braids were nothing short of spectacular. Jean and newly-bread Tristan were both leaving to Pyrenees the next day, originally from Toulouse, only here for a few days.

We followed through with Jean’s suggestion.

We got lost. Then I almost got run over by a scooter near Pigalle metro station. They wanted me to join to a concert, art gathering, art exhibition, a jam session, a poetry reading (‘it’s is free! and there’s free aperol’), but I got a bit dizzy (pissed) with French easygoing people-places-events swirl (also being almost run over by a scooter is no fun) so I left. I might hang out with them tomorrow.