I am sitting here after a long day in Paris. If you will excuse my indulgence, I want to write down what happened today. It was a fun, exhausting, rewarding day. I warn you, this is a bit long.
A Stranger in a Strange Land
Monday morning I flew out of Austin headed to Paris by way of Charlotte, North Carolina. Thirteen hours later I arrived in Paris, for the first time alone in a foreign country where I did not speak the language at all. I had been to Germany, but I know German, rusty though it may be. I was also with my father and had a German missionary for a guide. This was different.
I found myself very quiet, subconsciously hoping that if I did not speak, people would not notice that I did not fit in. There is also that whole pride issue: I did not want to appear ignorant of my surroundings, but of course, I knew nothing of Paris, Charles de Gaulle Airport, or the subway system.
I think everyone should spend some time as the ignorant foreigner. It would do wonders for our humility and just maybe help us have more active compassion for others.
I had four tasks for myself before getting out of the airport:
- change currencies,
- buy a power adapter to allow me to use my US appliances in France,
- buy a daily ticket for the metro system, and
- buy a pre-paid phone since Sprint’s CDMA network is completely unavailable in Europe (which is purely GSM).
Changing currencies ended up being the easiest of the four, although I did roughly two laps of the airport lobby before finding the exchange office. Buying a power adapter ended up being simple as well, although I had a false start, almost walking out the store before realizing that what I had in my hand was 1) Europe to US, not US to Europe, and 2) unpaid for! Lesson one: focus. I always thought my Dad was a bit funny, he is like a machine when in an airport, especially in a foreign country. Now I understand why. You make your list, focus, and tackle the items one at a time.
Metro tickets were a little more difficult. There are many automated booths in the airport lobby, but they only sell one-way tickets (or least, that is all I could get them to sell me). I did not want a one-way ticket, or even a book of one way tickets. I wanted a day-pass. I did not want to waste all my tickets if I got lost, and I had been told a day-pass provides unlimited rides. Lesson two: the information people (indeed, most people in general) speak english. Swallow your pride, admit you have no clue how to get what you need, and politely ask the people paid to answer your questions. After a short wait in a line, I had not just a one-day pass, but a pass that covered my entire trip! The ticket clerk was able to direct me to a much better deal than I was about to buy.
Alas, my fourth goal remains unfulfilled. The information desk informed me that they did sell pre-paid SIM cards, but not pre-paid phones. Thank you again, Sprint, for using a dieing technology that no-one else in the world uses. At any rate, I was ready to journey out into Paris!
The Journey to the Office
The first challenge was the transportation system. Instead of taking a cab to our Meudon office (Meudon is basically a suburb of Paris), I elected to take the metro. I figured it would save the company a tidy sum and be a fun experience. I was not dissapointed. I have ridden on the New York subway system, and travelled the tri-state area by train, but the public transportation system in Paris dwarfs either of those, both in complexity and sheer size.
I had two exchanges from the airport to the office, changing from one subway train to another and finally to an above-ground tram. If you are transferring from one subway train to another you never have to leave the subway system. Just follow the signs that lead you through the underground labarynth to your connection. It really is very simple if you just follow the signs. I can not read French. It took me a little while to figure out what the signs were. So I did the stairmaster 2000: walking out of the subway, looking up, seeing the number for my connection pointing down the same stairs I just walked up, turning sheepishly around, and going back down! Ah what fun!
Ok, mastered the subway signs. Once you get them, you get them. Simple! Now to transfer to the tram. Until this point, I did not know there was a tram in addition to the subway system. I thought T2 indicated a bus route (T for trolley?). Ten minutes later, no buses labeled 2, but look! A sign very similar to the subway signs, saying T2. Hrmm…
Ok, I am on the tram platform, boarding the tram, inserting my ticket, declined! Wait, this is supposed to get me anywhere! Well, I do not want to be the rude, law-breaking American, so let’s hop off the tram. I went to the ticket counter to buy tram tickets, and fortunately the ticket lady realized I had the day-pass.
Apparently, with the day-pass, you do not swipe, or insert your pass. You just get on the tram. If anyone asks, you show them your day pass. Great! Except now I feel like all the regular riders are looking at me, the ignorant American that thinks the tram is free! “No! I have a day-pass, really!” They, of course, have more permanant passes that you just badge against the door when you board.
Finally, I exited the tram, but I took the wrong exit off the platform and found myself across the street from where I wanted to be. Well, to be honest, I did not find myself until about ten minutes later, when the office failed to materialize! After a bit of backtracking, and more careful sign reading, I made it to the office! This brings me to 10AM, the start of my day.
Notes and Learning and Stuff
This part of my day was pretty straightforward. I received a presentation, the training I was there for. I now have ten pages of hand-written notes! Ten pages! From one day, not even the full day, just six hours! Good stuff.
Side note: for school, I usually type all my notes, but that is mostly to make sure I get everything the professor could possibly have on an exam, I usually already know the material. When I am trying to learn something really new, I always write it out by hand and transcribe it later. I find that my mind is more engaged in the subject when I am writing. I think when typing, I tend to focus on keeping up with the speaker, following the words, not the thoughts. I can not write fast enough to capture all of it; it forces me to distill the thoughts to what I can keep up with.
The day flew by pretty quickly. We stopped for lunch pretty early, as I had not been able to grab breakfast before coming in. The Meudon office has a dedicated cafeteria, like we did when we were still at the Schlumberger property. It was expensive! But I was hungry, and expensing costs.
After lunch, I had the best cup of coffee I have ever had. Seriously, it was a caffe machiato and it beat anything I have had at any Starbucks, hands down. Here is the kicker: it was made by a machine. Yeah, one of those automatic dispenser machines that drop a cup down, brews up some coffee, and adds cream and sugar. It knows how to make some twenty types of coffee: expresso, mocha lattes, cocoa lattes (yum!), americanos, etc. Oh, it was free. FREE. The best cup of coffee I have ever had was FREE from a machine in our developers’ offices. The French may not be able to win wars, but they make a mean cup of coffee!
The Hotel
At about 7:30, we headed out of the office and on our seperate ways. I headed to the hotel, just two stops down on the tram. As I was standing in line in the hotel lobby, I could not help but notice overhear the concierge very patiently trying to help someone over the phone. While she maintained a very patient, helpful tone of voice, you could tell the person on the other end was being obnoxious. Inwardly I hoped that when she was done it would be my time to go forward. It would be the perfect contrast to her rude customer: I will be overly polite and kind, and my request is easy, no sweat.
Well, it seemed like a good plan. Do not worry, I was nice, very nice. But my situation was not easy. We reserved my room by credit card before I ever left. The plan was: go up, check in, charge the room to the card details already present. The hotel needed an imprint of the card as a guarantee before they would release any room keys to me. The card was back with my manager in America, and no, I did not have another card I could use, just as a guarantee, none of my personal cards allow international transactions, so I did not even bring them. Ten minutes later, we had left a message for my manager, and I had paid in cash for the room (to be refunded when the credit card transaction clears). We thought this might happen, so I had enough money. It was not the easy request I thought, but the poor lady did seem more relaxed, so mission still accomplished!