Apologies for the randomness in the timing of my postings. Things have spun a bit out of control of late, with so many things to do, mostly related to moving into my apartment.
Please allow me to share now some vignettes of life in Nice of late.
- After my electricity adventure, Madame continued to be incredibly kind and helpful. Seeing that I had no furniture, for the next few days, she would bring down from her apartment a chair (for the first three days), then a table (when her son was visiting her, so the two of them could carry it down). I did not ask for this, but she felt I needed to have something to sit on! She has been patient with my limited French, speaking slowly and distinctly, for my sake. Still, though, words elude me…for example, when we were testing the intercom, she asked me to décrocher the phone. I knew I had heard the word before; in trying to figure it out, it seemed to me that, since the context was the phone, the “de” of the word indicated the idea of putting something down. Well, no…as it turns out, décrocher means to pick up. It’s a slow process, this language-learning.
- I continue to be impressed by the nice, generous people I meet. A few weeks ago, urged by the decorator I had hired, I went to see the apartment of a nearby American couple, who had also used her services. They graciously showed me around their place, which was beautiful. We parted, saying, “We should get together for a meal sometime.” They followed through, and a couple weeks later, arranged a lunch. We got to know each other better then, and in the ensuing days, texted about something or other a few times. Foolishly I had ordered a bedside table from IKEA (along with the bed, previously mentioned). I characterize this action as such, because I do know I have almost no ability to put things together. In fact, I had gotten a few steps into it, when I realized there was no hope for me finishing the job. So, I called this kind couple, who came over immediately, and started to work on it, presenting me, after three hours, with a most functional table, for which I have been grateful ever since! They are lovely people, and when they return to Philadelphia in March, where they will spend some months, I shall miss them.
- One morning I left my apartment, went down my stairs, and prepared to exit the building. Hmmm…the door did not open. I tried my fob again, and no go. The mechanism had failed. I had a moment of panic. What if there were a fire, and I needed to escape? This was the only way out. The door is huge, wooden, and over a hundred years old, so I didn’t think trying to use force would be a good use of my time. Thus, I called Madame. It was about 10 in the morning, and she descended in her bathrobe and slippers. She knew a trick to get it open, but, for the next few days, there was no security in the building, because of this useless door. Being on the first floor (i.e., one flight of stairs up), I would be the first apartment a thief would come to, if such an ill-intentioned person decided to try his luck with us. Eventually, the repair was done, and I could feel secure again, although, to be honest, I never really feel insecure, or in danger, here, a very nice non-feeling to have.
- As I have mentioned, I am very much in the middle of town. Just outside my building is a small parking lot. Sometimes, when I hear voices, I’ll look out to see the latest strangulation of cars in the tiny space. Usually, the voices are people telling drivers to turn the wheel left, then right…it’s amazing to me that there aren’t more dented cars, as drivers tend to come within centimeters of another car when parking. At any rate, one night, it was about 11:30, and I was trying to get to sleep. A small party had sprung up in the lot, and when I finally looked out the window at midnight, I saw four guys hanging out. One car was in the middle, with its doors open to ensure that they (and everyone within a kilometer, I think) could hear the music emanating from it. There were a couple of drinks on the car roof; one guy was smoking, another talking on the phone, the other two talking with each other. Around 12:30, I decided I needed to do something, but what? What did I know about trying to deal with…in French… noisy guys just having fun? Finally, I had my strategy. I would open my window shutter and shout, in a pleasant voice, “Bonsoir!” No need to be angry; how did they know someone was trying to sleep above them? (Also, I needed minimal language, so they would think I was a longtime resident). I did this, and they looked up. One of them immediately said, “Désolé, Madame.” Wow, really? Sorry? Impressive manners. I then shouted down, “Merci!” and within minutes, they had cleared out. I felt good about how easily this had been handled, and, especially, how, politely, on their part!
- Yesterday, the builders finally sent someone to take care of the items on my punch list, such as paint problems, doors not latching properly, etc. The man they sent was Dmitry, a Russian, who spoke French (with a heavy Russian accent), and about 10 words of English. He seemed to be trained in everything, from plumbing, to painting, to electricity, and who knows what else. At one point, he called me over, pointing to the shower, trying to make me understand something. I thought maybe he was telling me he had replaced the grout. Upon realizing I had no idea what he was saying, he pulled out his phone, and found the website he was looking for, and proceeded to show me several models of…shower caddies. Ah, he was suggesting that, instead of perching shampoo and soap on the shower fixture, I could get a shower caddy! What an idea! I must say, I found this most amusing, that he would think that he was suggesting something that, clearly, I had not thought of, and would be most useful to learn about. What I was unable to say, due to our communication abilities, was that a shower caddy was about 40th on my list of things I needed to buy. It made me wonder, however, if he came away from this encounter completely unimpressed by this American who had to be educated on something so fundamental. He may in fact have puzzled over why his native country spent so much time worrying about American capabilities. Truly what was there to worry about?
- Finally, the city is all abuzz, because it’s time for Carnaval! I’ve heard that this event is the second biggest in the world after Rio. It starts today, February 10th, and will go to the 26th. Fortunately, I bought tickets for three parades a month ago, so I’ll have a seat in the stands, rather than trying to see anything from the street. I’m excited!
