Paris érotique
February 21, 2010
As most of you know, my passion is travel, so when my French teaching colleagues invited me to accompany them on a class trip to Paris, I did not hesitate, although it did occur to me to wonder why none of our other colleagues seemed to be beating down the door to go…Teachers have to pay for themselves, worse luck, but we do get to travel at a reduced group rate, so that the six hour bus trip plus two overnights with breakfast came to a mere 125 Euros. We accompanied kids from grade 11-13, ranging from 15 to 18 years of age, and only a very few of them were my own students, but they were a fun bunch, with some of the more fashion-conscious young men bringing three pairs of shoes for the three days we would be spending in Paris (!).
The bus ride was uneventful, although the bus driver’s frequent and none-too-considered use of the word ‘erotic’ in all and sundry contexts caused some giggles. The kids asked us if they could watch a film, and we agreed, only to regret it later, as most of the plot seemed to center on a prepubescent boy obsessed with drawing pictures of penises under his school desk. Given such entertainment, when we finally rolled into the less than glamorous suburb of Levallois-Perret (which was home to no less a figure than Gustave Eiffel himself), the teachers were relieved. We had about half an hour to compose ourselves before running to the Moulin Rogue to catch a walking tour of the Montmartre area at 6:30 p.m. Most of this walk is uphill, and at this time of year it is quite cold – it even snowed during our stay - which is why I was surprised that some of our girls were wearing miniskirts and heels, but although they trudged around uncomplainingly, the boys moaned and groaned and were generally less than stoic about the cold. We were all delighted when we finally reached the beautiful Sacré Coeur, though less for reasons having to do with religion than warmth, I must confess. When we returned to the hotel with its inviting duvets, it did not take long for me to succumb.
The next morning our favorite bus driver took on a bus tour of the sights, from the Champs Elysées and the Arc de Triomphe to an area called La Defense that most resembles a futuristic Jetsons cartoon, eerily unlike anything I would have associated with Paris. He finally deposited us at the Musée d’Orsay, with its lovely Impressionist collection and the incredibly daring ‘Origine du Monde’ by Courbet, a realistic view of the origins of life between a woman’s legs, and then both we and the students were free to wander until a late-night meeting at the Eiffel Tower that evening. We found ourselves in the Jewish section of the city, and it was right there, on the Rue du Temple, that we encountered an unexpected roadblock – the Chinese New Year’s parade just happened to be passing through, to crowds that were six people deep. It was interesting to see the colorful scarves and floats and dragons against the classic gray backdrop of the city, and we enjoyed the view before heading past many picturesque boutiques and eateries, including a storefront clearly reading ‘La Droguerie’ but where people were clearly queuing up to buy not aspirin, but delectable crepes, judging from the scent as well as the family-size jar of Nutella on the counter!
Hungry and cold, my fellow teachers and I fled into a nice bistro and then went to see a truly forgettable new film called L’autre Dumas. Depardieu plays a lecherous and gluttonous writer who is strangely dependent on his male amanuensis in a flick which had no plot to speak of (but an attractive female lead to compensate). After the film, we met our students at the Eiffel Tower, which was beautifully illuminated at night, and turned in for the night.
On our final day, we went to meet our new partner school and were given a tour by the German teacher and his students there. He was a native of the Alsace area and spoke flawless French and German, as Alsace is right on the border of the two countries. He had a very nice rapport with the kids, who were Turkish and Algerian, as well as French. In a month’s time, they will be coming to visit us in Dortmund, and hopefully the kids on both sides will be less tongue-tied than they were this first visit; perhaps they will all bond better over a Bratwurst! After the school visit, we made a quick dash to the local supermarket to pick up things like boxed tabouleh, licorice tea, goat cheese and caramel flan in a sex pack –I mean six pack – to sustain us during the decidedly less than ‘erotic’ bus ride back…
About the Author : Tamara-Diana Braunstein brings us her stories from Senegal every week. She was born in
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