The beginning of my weekend was tiring; I had class from 8:30 to 12:30 and then again from 1:30 to 5:30. I have finally switched from going to six every day and five two days to going to seven those two days (to better challenge myself, I guess). It's not as difficult as I thought it would be there, but I'm glad my test for the end of the course is in group six, and not seven. I know I wouldn't do as well in seven.
Anyway, after class I went home, finished packing very quickly, and headed to the train station for my train at 6:30. I didn't end up seeing Nika before I left, which was sad, but I left her a note saying goodbye, so I hope she wasn't mad. Also; I forgot to charge my camera battery before I left. How stupid! I knew it would only last a day, maybe a little longer. So mad at myself...
I got on the train and began working on memorizing more of Rachel Corrie. I have a little over half of the play memorized, and I am very nervous about being able to get the rest done by the time I get back to the US. I will have a couple days in between coming home and coming to Kirksville to work with, but I'm still nervous. I just have to make myself work on it all this week, constant diligence, and then I'll be good.
I was memorizing when a lady who looks, to me, like Tonks would if she had become a grandma (my, there are a lot of Harry Potter references in this post, huh?). So Grandma-Tonks sitting next to me brought out a bag with two sandwiches and some lettuce and offered me dinner! I refused a couple times, as is the polite thing to do, but there was no way I wasn't going to take her up on that offer. I will always accept free food. Except from men in vans with candy. Once we had "broken bread," we began talking. She asked if I was an actress and I told her about my major and what I was doing here in France (I tired, not very well, to describe what the play is about, but it's difficult to explain when you don't know the word for bulldozer in French).
I got into Paris by 10pm, using my small, black and white metro map to figure out where I needed to go. The first thing I noticed about the metro station was the lovely smell of pee. I bought my ticket to the Villejuif, which was the closest station to my hostel. It's actually not really in Paris, Villejuif is name of the city, I think. I don't entirely understand how Paris works. Once I got there, walking very quickly and looking over my shoulder quite often since I was alone in a dark, Parisian neighborhood, I had to ask where the street was that I needed to go down to get to my hostel. I had a map, but I couldn't figure out where my starting point was. I went into an Italian restaurant and asked the guy behind the counter where the street was. Of course, he didn't speak French. Or English. Just Italian.
Thankfully, there was a French costumer there who knew actually where I needed to go, and he walked around the corner with me to show me where to go. I continued walking very quickly down the streets (every building had a fence and gate around it, telling you what kind of neighborhood it was), and I even passed a very scary black man singing loudly at the bus stop. I crossed the street at that point. I made it to the hostel (not knowing the exact address) very easily because I knew it was owned by two Korean women, and there was a big Korean flag in the window of the building. I rang the doorbell, and within two seconds, I saw Jennifer hanging out the window, which was by far the most exciting part of my day.
The end of the day involved us sitting on our beds, telling each other about our days and going to bed.
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