La Une in English: February 2007

A Visit to Paris At almost eleven o’clock on Wednesday, February 21, I was just about done packing my suitcase. Almost time to go! Once I was finally done, I left my apartment as quickly as possible and headed towards the metro. After a few minutes underground, I arrived at the Matabiau train station and ran to the waiting area to give myself a few extra seconds. Nobody! But where were they? I grabbed my cell phone to call Laura, the program coordinator, and found out that everyone was already on the train. Dragging my suitcase, I ran the rest of the way to the eleventh car of the train that waited, warmed up and ready to go, on the fourth track of the station. Once there, I found my seat and settled in, panting from the run. A few seconds later, there was a screeching of metal. It was the departing train that had begun to glide lightly over the rails, creating a metallic whine. The whole voyage was a procession of panoramic scenes; mountains in a long line, each new one rivaling the last in beauty and size. At their feet, several tranquil streams seemed to show us the way as they ran alongside the railroad tracks. Last but not least, the small historic towns completed the scene. We first saw Limoges, then Bourges and finally Orléans, to name a few. After a few hours of smooth riding, interrupted by stops that almost seemed too short, we finally arrived in the cultural center of the world. We left the Austerlitz train station and got on the metro; line 7 in the direction of Place d’Italie and then line 6 in the direction of Charles de Gaule Étoile. I could already feel Paris, feel its breathing and its almost unintelligible voice, a sort of swarming, a murmur. At each metro stop, people ran and rushed and excused themselves before jamming into a car that wailed and then disappeared into its tunnel with a furious momentum. We got off at Glacière and our hotel was no more than a few hundred meters away, which we could easily make on foot despite the fatigue and sleepiness we felt. Our hotel, the FIAP, was on Rue Cabanis, and we were given a warm, humorous welcome before getting down to the rules. We all had to be back to the hotel before 2 a.m. If we were late, we would have to show our key card to the guard so as not to spend the night on the street. Also, no alcohol of any kind was allowed in the rooms. At that point, certain devious looks were shot around the room; but perhaps not about “pregaming” or to say “let’s get trashed.” The last and final rule was in regard to smoking—absolutely not in the hotel building. Too bad for the smokers. We all went up to our rooms, the boys all in the same room on the sixth floor and the girls on the seventh floor. Two hours later, we all met in the lobby to leave for dinner. On the menu: a traditional eastern meal at the restaurant of the Mosquée de Paris. The meal brought back many happy memories for Madame Toux, the director of the program, who loved to sip the Mosquée’s mint tea when she was a student in Paris. After the delicious and plentiful dinner, a part of the group was determined to keep going…to the bars. We needed to find a chic enough place that didn’t break the bank, and after 45 minutes we finally found an ideal spot in the center of town. Chic, yes. Cheap, not really. Instead we were content just to spend some time out at Paname before heading back to the hotel to get some rest for the next day, which we knew would be filled with activity. The second day began with a boat tour on the famous Bateaux Mouches of Paris. We met at Pont Neuf, the oldest bridge in Paris, at 10:00 a.m. We all boarded our boat and, a few minutes later, were gliding on the Seine towards the Eiffel Tower. The day was mild, and the sun seemed to watch us timidly, welcoming us into its domain. Ringing out around us were the voices of the tour guides, informing us that the building to our right that seemed to go on forever was, in fact, the Louvre. Intrigued, I focused my attention on the building, which seemed humble to me from the outside, rarely ever exceeding three floors in height. A little bit farther down the river we finally reached the tower Paris is known for, one of the most famous structures in the world. There it was, three hundred meters high with its ten thousand tons of steel, standing majestically over the city, its city. It was constructed, the guides told us in French and English, between 1887 and 1889, and despite the fact that Gustave Eiffel’s work was not well received at first, it continues to attract curiosity and fascination today. The Eiffel Tower has three floors and, according to the guides, is open until 11:00 p.m. each day. As if there was nothing important past the Eiffel Tower, our boat made a U-turn in order to show us the other part of Paris that I have named the area of superlatives. You’ll see why as I go on. On our right, facing the Louvre, we saw the American church of Paris, and then passed under Pont Neuf to reach the other part of the Seine. While going underneath, we were reminded of the fact that the Pont Neuf, the New Bridge in English, is the oldest bridge in Paris, having been constructed in 1607. Next, on our left, we saw the golden flame, reminiscent of the flame held by Lady Liberty in New York, given to France by the United States as a sign of peace between the two countries. Among other things we saw on our right, there was the Palace of the Legion of Honor, which awards the highest distinction a French person or a foreigner could hope for. Next, the smallest house in Paris, which is wedged between a yellow and a red house, then the Academie Française, the highest institution of the French language, and finally the statue of the perfect woman, found on the Voltaire bank of the Seine, just to name a few. A little bit beforehand, we had passed by the City Island, or the birthplace of France, which sheltered the first inhabitants of France in the 3rd century before Jesus Christ. Afterwards we saw the smallest bridge in Paris, which leads to St. Louis Island, the second island of Paris. The bridge leads to La Tour d’Argent, a restaurant where, in the sixteenth century, king Henry IV had the luxury of eating with a fork for the first time. After St. Louis Island, our boat headed in the other direction on a course which brought us past Notre-Dame de Paris, the famous cathedral, and the Hôtel Dieu hospital, the oldest in Paris. Next we passed under the Pont Marie, where tradition is to make a wish that won’t come true until one kisses his or her neighbor. In the end, our tour allowed us to discover an important part of Paris, an area of the smallest, the biggest, the oldest, the most famous, and even the most important. That’s not to say that there’s nothing else of interest in Paris. On the contrary, I was able to visit the Musée d’Orsay, whose historically scandalous exhibits were widely talked :about. Among the artists shown there, we saw the masterpieces of Courbet such as La Guerre des Cerfs, the little fish who swallowed a fish-hook and who represented a piece of the life of the painter himself, tracked and menaced throughout his career. L’origine du monde, another of Courbet’s, is a painting that exposes the private parts of a young woman and that shocks first-time viewers. After Courbet we stopped in front of the works of J. Manet, le diner sur l’herbe to be precise. This painting, done in an unrefined manner and exhibiting an ideal of a free woman in a society long-past, apparently ran into a lot of difficulty in being considered as art when it was produced. Today, it is the star of the museum, a kind of Mona Lisa. Next we saw the works of Edgar Degas, the well-to-do Italian painter and sculptor. I was more interested by his sculptures than his paintings, la petite danseuse, for example, which seems to be of a beautiful, graceful young girl. A closer look, however, shows us something different. Degas, it seems, loved science and believed strongly in the theories of his time. One of these theories held that there was a part of the brain that was tangible and visible to the eye and that contained kindness. This so-called organ of happiness could be found in the frontal lobe of the brain and those who had it the most had a more visibly rounded forehead. Keeping this theory in mind, I looked at the statue and to my surprise saw that the girl’s forehead was flattened, almost hollow. According to our guide, this meant that she was subhuman, worse than an animal. We moved next to the Monet collection, where I noticed most of all his love for the countryside and the way he played with light. It seemed that he paddled his canoe around until he found a place that spoke to him, and then used his paintbrush to immortalize its natural and ephemeral gorgeousness. Lastly, we visited the works of Van Gogh. I was dazzled by his refined style and the intensity of his colors, and, standing before his paintings, it was obvious that the artist had gone above and beyond idealism; he had set the stage for expressionism. Hard to imagine such a man cutting his ear off. During our free time, we often set off in little groups or alone, according to our interests. As a result, I had the opportunity to visit Notre-Dame and Sainte-Chapelle with some friends before meeting up with my uncle at his house, where I enjoyed an African meal. We spent Friday at the Louvre and, in all seriousness; I was nostalgic for the Musée d’Orsay. Saturday, on the other hand, we visited the Centre Pompidou, a building that looks like an unfinished construction site and that is known for its dynamism. There, nothing is permanent; everything is changing. It includes, among other things, a well equipped library, photography exhibitions, art for children, and, above an escalator that offers a wonderful view of the city, a museum for temporary exhibits. Saturday night, we went as a group to the opera, where we saw le dictateur et la chanteuse, a spoof on the story of a Peruvian dictator who falls in love with a poor singer who is already married. What could be more intriguing? To top it all off, I visited the Eiffel Tower with some friends at exactly midnight. The stars shone brightly in the sky, and on the ground a soft wind blew through the trees around the site. The thousand lights of the Tower sparkled and shone for about ten minutes, which was a wonderful present for my 22nd birthday. Sunday morning, we had to be out of our rooms at 9:00 a.m. at the latest. Together, we made our way to the Austerlitz train station for our trip back to Toulouse. Back in la ville rose, the train station was filled with more people than I’d ever seen because of the end of winter vacation for the students of Toulouse. We had to wait in line just to get on the metro. So as not to waste time, I took the metro one stop in the direction leading away from the center of town, got off, and walked to the other side to head home in much less chaotic circumstances, and finally arrived at home. Overall, this was only a little visit to Paris. But it was sufficient to write a rich and colorful page in my book of memories. --Moustapha Minte

Sous le ciel de Toulouse --Anna Cumbie, editor Monument à Découvrir: Monument de la Résistance --Meredith Ship Birthdays in March 6 : Megan 14 : Matthew The Guggenheim Museum in Bilbao --Meredith Ship Cliquez ici pour retourner à la version française.