April 24 Happy Birthday to my BIL, John Grisinger

My brother-in-law, John, has been in my life since I was 14.  I remember the moment I realized my sister was dating someone, not a square,  with an interesting take on the world: Patty & I were disagreeing over whether to simmer boiling water to cook eggs (my view) or to turn up the heat (her position) as we labored over the stove.  John calmly explained the evaporation process and make his point very clearly with no rancor.  It was that exchange and the fact that he knew who Art Blakey was that caused altered my perception of the Dodge Dart-driving engineer my sister was about to marry.  What gift John has been to our family since then.  Could not have a better brother in law.

Arrived an hour before departure at Gare de L’est for my speed train to Frankfurt.  Nothing is in English, but signs are color coded and not TOO difficult to decipher.

The presence of guards with machine guns was a tad unnerving.

Here is my gear.

I am enroute Paris to Frankfurt on the ICE de Bahn.  Au revoir, Paris.  Like every city train yard, the scene is the same.

Once out of Paris we pass miles and miles of cultivated mustard farms.  Seems improbable that what grows as a weed in the California hills is a farm product here.

Every now and then we pass a village with a clump of homes and a tall church spire—always a church spire.
We moved through one forest, the rest is farms, two industrial areas but the scene is similar. My seat mate is an older German woman who does not speak—until she departs at Mannheim and in heavy accent, says: “Have nice trip.”

Yesterday was a wonderful day in Paris.  I met the Black Paris Tour in a second floor dining room of a bakery on the Champs Elysee near the Charles de Gaule Etoile. The subway is easy to use.  There were three couples, the guide, and moi—all American, although the guide lives in Paris nine months a year for many years.  We quickly became friends with a wonderful spirit de corps.

Ricki oriented us to the city telling how to get around and giving some history.  She had a very fascinating set of facts about Africans in Paris and African Americans who had made their home here.  She was not only factual and entertaining, but good at facilitating the group discussion. I bet none the blog readers could name the 10+ Blacks memorialized on the Arc de Triomphe.

Then we set out in driving rain to take a public bus to see three monuments to Alexander Dumas( 400+ books including The Three Musketeers, The Count of Monte Cristo, etc.  It was dicey given the rain, but we managed to stay together. The woman from DC and her husband left the tour early as she was on one crutch and finding it difficult to navigate on public transportation in the slick rain.

We moved around Paris with Ricki pointing out monuments to Blacks and areas where Frederick Douglas and other notables had lived.  I learned much I did not know.  We got on the subway and the group followed Ricki’s instructions to speak in French phrases she told us. Interesting people, really fun outings and great conversations.  We had a lot of laughs.  It was not long before we had a really nice repartee going.
For lunch (around 3pm) we had Sri Lankan food in a little restaurant and then we walked to Little Africa for shopping and site seeing.  The neighborhood is home to 250K immigrants of Caribbean and African origin who were recruited (largely post 1960) to work in construction.

 I bought some cotton fabric with wax prints of birds in green, pink and black.  The other Eileen (from Houston) was searching for a 14 carat gold charm; she and Irving have been married 10 years and she buys a charm in countries they visit.  She did find a darling Eiffel Tower at a reasonable price.  Linda (retired to Jacksonville FL from NYC) found some gold dangling earrings that were fantastic on her.  Her husband, Walter—retired middle school teacher—found an African shirt in a lovely print.  We all bought a praline from the Haiti shop and we headed back out to Sacre Cour.

 The subway was mobbed and Linda and I were puzzled by the persistent attention I was attracting from the young men.  We couldn’t figure it out; it was not threatening or molesting, but in-your-face.  Could not decipher what their proposition was about.

The weather had turned even fouler, so we decided at 6pm to call it quits.  My only regret is that I did not do this tour on day one.  Ricki had recommendations for restaurants, jazz clubs, etc.  It was a completely enjoyable and very educational day. Linda and Walter had come a few days before and gone to two clubs and one restaurant Ricki recommended—they were really delighted with the Speakeasy jazz.

After cleaning up and dressing for dinner, I ventured out at 8 for one of the seafood restaurants on the list.  Walking on a green pedestrian light, I came inches from being hit by a speeding minivan that swerved and almost killed me and three young Asian men who were coming opposite direction in the crosswalk.  When they heard me exclaim, “What the hell?” they turned around, followed me and asked (in accented English)  for directions to the Champs Elysee.  I obliged including hand gestures and then realized they spoke perfect English, although with an accent.  One asked if I was British.  “No, American.”

They then asked if I had any restaurant recommendations.  I explained that I left my list in the apartment, but I was headed for seafood.  They followed.  The maitre d spoke a little English: I asked for a table for one.  Since we had been talking while waiting, the waiter asked if we were together.  I explained the situation, was seated alone while the guys from Singapore were shown upstairs.  They must have been big spenders because I ordered soup—but the maitre brought 6 delicious mussels in buttery sauce “on the house.”  Before my soup, here comes another appetizer “complementary—thank you for recommending us.”  The soup was excellent.  Now here comes a thick piece of cod poached in a sauce and served with puree of fennel root.  I had to refuse the tart tartan that next appeared. An amazing four course meal for 14 Euros.

We must be in Germany.  The trained stopped ten minutes ago and now there are six armed “national police” roaming the train with serious looks and Billy clubs next to their automatic weapons.
After the cab driver got lost going 1 mile to the hotel, I was very happy to see that my accommodation in Frankfurt is in the West End—financial district in a really lovely building.  The desk staff was very polite with broke English and took my bags to my room.  It is wonderful.

After a shower and change of clothes, I used the map provided and walked about a mile to a row of restaurants.  It reminded me of Boston’s Newbury street.  I decided on a “mediterrrean cuisine” in a basement.  The setting was divine.  Like an ivory cave with white candle lights, white llinens and black chairs with gray and black pillows.  The artwork consists of both traditional etchings and modern bright color abstracts.

There was only one other table of the 16 seats filled with a woman diner.  After the waiter and I conversed, the diner asked where I was from in the States.  She was from Sydney and we conversed throughout my meal.  She had finished, but was interested in discussing impressions of different palces---she obviously well traveled—and we had an engaging conversation.  The food was excellent.  The waiter was perfect in his service and eventually, the tables filled with businessmen speaking German and English, middle aged couples speaking French and German and an elderly man who spoke not at all—he must be a regular as the waiter brought this and that without any discussion.

I have packing to do.  I want to check the two small bags and carry only a handbag and a backpack.  That requires some planning on what goes where.  Luckily and thanks to Patty, I am upgraded to First Class for the Frankfurt to Dallas leg and Dallas to OC.

I will see you all soon.

If not asleep, I will write some reflections in flight on this whole four month experience.  I can’t believe how fortunate I am.  There have been no negatives—only interesting and delightful experiences.  I have learned more than I can chronicle.  I am so grateful.