This Call is Interrupted

A longer blog entry is forthcoming from both of us, but this “bloglet” seemed worth sharing.

Summer is officially over. We had a blast with our August round of visitors. The Sitar Gang, former colleagues from the Sitar Arts Center--Maureen and her husband Chris and even a quick visit from former Board president Heather and her husband Justy--were great fun. Having a visit from Kim, a Chesterton friend and former college roommate, made Paris feel even more like home. We saw many sights and walked over 75 miles as we toured Paris with them. I especially loved Mont Saint Michel (an island town and church built a long time ago), Chartres (with its amazing stained glass and medieval prayer labyrinth) and the Rungis Market (which has replaced Les Halles and is now the centralized market for Paris--http://www.rungisinternational.com). It was also just good to talk and hang out with good friends over coffee and an occasional glass of wine.

But just as our visitors left, the promised Rentree (French for "Back to School") happened and, as predicted, our lives have gotten busier. Paris has awoken from its summer nap and wherever Parisians were for the entire month of August, they have returned in force. We’ve been working on catching up and starting our own fall schedules here.

Today, as I scurried back home on the metro after a few appointments, Josh called and a funny moment worth sharing occurred. This is how the conversation went with Josh:

Josh: Hi, how are you? Do I need to pick up bread for dinner?

Sara: Hi there…I’m running late, I was at the school longer than expected and I need to call Diane at 7:15PM. Is there any way you can also….

STATION STOP—Man with accordion enters the metro train and begins playing loudly

Sara: …pick up 250 grams of ground beef and onions and red…

Josh (in an angry/annoyed voice): Where ARE you? What do you need? I can’t hear anything over that accordion. I’ll call you back in 10 minutes. [and then he hangs up]

Needless to say, when the musician came around asking for tips, I did not give him any change, but perhaps I should have because I found myself laughing at the absurdity of the situation—I mean, only in Paris (and maybe on Dyngus Day, but that’s different) is it even remotely likely that a conversation is interrupted by accordion music.

Maybe next time I need to have a rare metro phone conversation, the puppet show guy will be on the metro instead.

sPg