A Travellerspoint blog

Square One

semi-overcast 22 °C

So....the only other work opportunity I had developing back in Buenos Aires is now gone as well. They really liked me but needed someone with more technical experience. Surprisingly enough, I wasn't sad. I think I knew...that it wasn't cut for me, made for me. And it's not enough to just get your foot in the door. The shoe needs to fit and the door has to be the right one or else it's not worth it and won't last. So I guess I have to accept it for what it is and just move on. Which I already have. I have my CV flying all over the world at this moment. I am not giving up.

Still, I'm not a traveler and I'm not settled anywhere yet! I'm somewhere in the middle and broke in one of Europe's priciest cities where, for a cup of coffee, you could get a full lunch in South America. And speaking of which, it doesn't matter who I am with, somehow the topic always comes up "in south america, there's this.." or "in Buenos Aires I had that...". I'm beginning to control my thoughts and shutting my bouche before it even comes out. Because I do believe in living in the NOW, the present - because the present really is a present. And I'm in Paris and pretty damn fortunate to be able to be where I have been.

My aunt said something that's a bit aggressive but definitely quotable: "vot ken ay tell you darling...sometimes you are riding the horse and sometimes you are under it". Explicit, but true.

With that in mind, and in my attempts to at least stand at horse eye-level, I took on any invite I got. Last night I went to my first-ever fashion show at the Petit Palais. Pretty cool to be there, see it all coming together. Tens of good looking people walking around, half naked or very well dressed, wild makeup, cameras flashing, fashion buyers everywhere, etc. I even had a front row seat watching miles of legs strut down the runway. And then stop, do a few turns, let you check them out and judge for yourself. Crazy fun and a definite first for me. Paris. Fashion Week. An actual runway. Afterwards, we went for a drink at Cafe Marly just outside the Louvre and it was "Nuit Blanche" in Paris, all the museums were open past midnight so everything was lit up. Was gorgeous.

I spent the weekend at my cousin's apartment and decided to go back to another Square One: Sex & the City from Season 1. Right from the beginning. I might as well, no?

And it turns out, the Quai Branly Museum grants free entry on the first Sunday of every month so I took the offer up and joined the hoards of people absorbing art on a Sunday afternoon. A no-brainer for budget-free travelers. It's a nice museum with a pretty garden and cafe. Content wise, it wasn't as rich as I hoped and I dont think it required such a big lot of space (the Met does it much better) but it was interesting, tracking down the roots of ancient societies and symbols around the world - from square one, might I add - and it was full of statues and textiles of Native Americans, the people of Congo, Oceania and South America. There were some beautiful, hand-knit Mexican ponchos from the 17th century, that when laid flat, they resemble Earth with the axis in the center, 4 fixed points and the 3 main layers of our planet. These people were so far from one another, living in these vast amounts of land, building their own empires, documenting their knowledge and understanding of where they live, their values and how they see life. It's easy to see that there is one thread that connects everyone with every one and it only proves that distance, is just a matter of geography.

This evening was stunning in Paris - the weather was perfect, an unusually warm breeze after an unseasonably cold week, the sky was smeared in shades of jet blue, thick dark grey and orange-like clouds illuminated by the city lights and just before a heavy rain shower, and the Eiffel looked so elegant, it was impossible not to stop and take it all in at Pont d'Alma. Which is exactly what I did.

And for the record, *he* is in Spain. I knew it because I felt it; that useless sense of intuition that kicks in at the wrong time sometimes. And I keep telling myself how stupid it is to even think he would contact me and tell me "I'm coming to Paris to see you". It would never happen, never!! He would never do that, go out of his way for someone and definitely not for me after everything. It's just one of life's most obvious and well known truths that I am coming to terms with because it is what it is. It doesn't matter how beautiful or smart or funny or whatever that I would be. The only thing he has ever done for me is cheat to be with me. But it's not enough and he probably couldn't give any more than that so, I have to talk to myself to rid my head of this ridiculous childish fantasy that will never, ever happen. I'm being brutally honest with myself - it's the only way to get it out of my head.

And since I'm back at square one. There is only one way to go and that's UP.
I'm going to attempt to make history this week. Something has to change.

Posted by enoura 13:52 Archived in France Comments (0)

You can't have a party without making a mess

semi-overcast 20 °C

A few days ago, I was at my cousin's apartment enjoying an evening on the couch, inhaling far too much Marlboro second handedly, sipping on Kusmi herbal tea called "Falling in Love" with Ms. Winehouse in the background, shouting now and again to remind us she was there entertaining us in the lounge... and we were talking...talking about love affairs that fell down our paths like ripened apples, ready to be eaten and enjoyed at different times, completely unexpected and wild.

My cousin was telling me of one specific individual she recently met who has a life story that put all the glamour of our ex-leading men into a one-coin back pocket. By far, a crazy life and personality that can only mean a relationship that would be forever dodgy and unstable yet still… exciting in a masochistic sort of way. Next to this person, well known among those that know the name and the life, all the dalliances you would ever encounter would simply be boring and standard. Even my ongoings look so comically pathetic. After what I heard from her, what person could really qualify as interesting enough to lure you in for more, to captivate you with curiousity, fear and compassion at the same time? Ultimately though, this guy's story, as exciting and dangerous as his life may seem, it's not real and it won't last even though we'd love for it to be. We are 'normal girls' but truth is, we dont want a 'normal guy' even though we say we do. Admittedly, we secretly love the frustration of the game, the man unknown to us apart from the impression we're given, the intentions never proclaimed but always assumed, the subtle nuances that say it all but never confirm, the life being lived but never captured in private, the encounters that can stop the earth revolving but when over, leave you light years behind in unfulfilled fantasy. It keeps you on the edge, on your tippy toes, always wanting more to feel that inner inquietude of 'what's going on here' and when both sides will confess their sentiments. Every time, *he* did something or acted a certain way that may hint something positive and seductive, it sent me over the roof, to the moon and back with stardust left in my hair. And those moments were so rare, but when they happened, they were golden. Study the ways of the classic onscreen "Mr. Big" who has a certain je ne sais quoi that is irresistible - he screws up so many times but when he goes out of his way to show his feelings, he does it extraordinarily well because you never know when it's going to come; it's always off guard. But honestly, 'normally' speaking, those encounters don't really happen. And if it does, it's only in your fantasy - which is why, unfulfilled love will always be romantic and also why mysterious ways should always remain that way.

It's that one part of our lives we love to toy around with incessantly, blending theories with reality and vice versa, making mountains out of molehills, manipulating the situation so we can have our cake, eat it and leave it whole, choosing to see the pink and ignoring the real picture and sometimes, missing the train and then boarding the wrong bus to the most unexpected destination in life that turns out being the greatest mistake we ever made. It's that one place where we all fall before we rise.

Which got me thinking, you can’t have a party without making a mess.

I went to the cinema on Sunday to see Lelouche's "Ces Amours-La" (These Loves) - yep, exactly as it sounds. Was about a young woman living in France in the 40's. What a mess.

I guess I could apply this statement to travel in general - leaving the stable, well-paid job, the cozy apartment, the good friends, family packages, all of it in pursuit of another party, an ongoing party, where time is made for you, to enjoy life, see the wonders of the world and maybe even discover a new direction or find yourself struggling with what it is you want all over again. But a mess can be good because it means cleaning up all the s*$% gathered along the way.

I ventured to Saint Germain and Luxembourg Gardens to escape my thoughts of feeling jobless and a non-traveler, totally caught in between and feeling completely useless by the lack of response to my CV distribution. Yet, unfailingly, a day alone allows you to explore parts of the city you always miss somehow, open your mind to forget who you are for some time and speak to random people in the cafes - it's always interesting to discover how our paths cross, as it did last night at one of Paris's best local dinner scene, where the girl behind us was headed to Beirut to attend the very same party my cousin was in town for. Small world.

I found some great buys on Rue du Dragon - many little clothing boutiques and jewelry shops that are hard to resist at the price they're offered at. So I gave in - bought a cool bracelet (8 euros), a bow-tie ring (10 euros) and a book by Honore de Balzac for 2euros. Luxembourg is gorgeous at this time of year - the trees doing their autumn dance, dispensing its own verson of feathers right to the ground. It's a beautiful site really; a collection of trees in many shades, doing what nature does best: changing.

Ironically enough, it's still the one thing we have a hard time adapting to even though it is the "order" of nature.

Posted by enoura 16:24 Archived in France Comments (0)

Things you take along the way

semi-overcast 24 °C

No matter how convinced I am that writing is a masochistic career, I can't help but go back to the keyboard and type my life out. It's just impossible. And that brings me to remembering the ONE true thing I enjoyed as a child: writing. I had an interview last night for an MBA counseling website company; before the call, they asked me to prepare 5 questions I would like to be asked in an interview and then yesterday, the CEO asked me 'what would you say is the most vivid memory you have of your childhood?". I think that without realizing, the question I wrote I'd like to be asked, already had an answer. I have short stories complete with illustrations from when I was 9. So I'm thinking, I can go so many directions and learn the inside out of Google analytics but really, I can't lose touch with the one thing I have always loved to do. So I'm just going to continue documenting this entire experience and see where it takes me, without deprecating the value of writing. Who knows what you might discover?

Speaking of writing, the project in BA I have to date, is no more. Apparently, my services cannot be afforded by the company that hired me and so, for now, I am without any project. Back at square one. Only one response left to receive from the only company interviewing me in BA. All others still in review of my CV and anything feasible requires my physically being there, which obviously, is not possible! At least not for now. Still, persistence and perseverance is above all else so the journey continues. But every day that goes by that I'm not there, is another one lost! And its the strangest thought in the world, because I've had this feeling about Argentina ever since I first visited, last June. I have never experienced this in any other city in the world. It's crazy!

And here I am in Paris. As frustrating as it is, and IT IS, because I'm not exactly unveiling the city (after all, I've been here 10 times), I am living out this hard time with a strange sense of strength, it's unbreakable. I have moments when the tears are in my eyes and I just want to get out of here and be where I am happy. And knowing that I can't be there only makes me want it more. I'm also relishing in the fact that I owe no one nothing and I can go anywhere I choose to go professionally and personally. I have no boss above me, no one making demands. All those come from myself, and nevertheless, those expectations of myself are still high.

I have a little plan to open a small savings account and use the money to do some exploring where I am right now, as super low-budget traveler for a weekend or two. Perhaps to Bordeaux, or maybe even down south in Provence. SOLO. I am missing the excitement of getting on a bus or a train and letting the road take me away. It's contagious and addictive and travelers should beware.

Earlier this week, I was invited to a soiree at the Chatelet. The whole night was sponsored for Cancer Research, which goes without saying, an important night, and even ambassadors, professors and the key contributors were there. With my six-month suitcase-based collection of clothes, I chose whatever I had and went with my aunt, cousin and some family friends. It was a great change of scenery after weeks of sitting on the laptop at nights. A refreshing change. We arrive and everyone is dressed for a soiree par excellence. The best pearls, the shiniest heels, the most elegant dresses, fur here and there, some grey shiny suits with pink ties. Ok so I was definitely under-dressed - in jeans and heels from Rio - but I didn't really care. I was enjoying the cultural experience.

Our seats - row 3 - so close I can see one of the speakers's poorly chosen socks on the stage later that night but anyway, I look around and typical of European cities, I am surrounded by gorgeous artwork from ceiling to floor, mini balconies accented with curves and flowers, the words "Dance", "Opera", "Theatre", and "Music" enscripted in gold. The orchestra was composed of slim, good looking Russian youth, in the early 20's and it was incredible. When I hear beautiful music, I can't help myself but cry. And the tears rolled down as the violins overtook the clarinets and then the group of bass players overtook it all. Was great to hear Mahler, Leonard Bernstein's West Side Story and some beautiful sonatas. And I sat there thinking how much music is a part of our lives, and has been for centuries, even thousands of years. No matter where you go, you take the music with you and you acquire new pieces along the way. And just so you know, Paris has a great classical music station called "Classique" (obviously), apparently owned by the Vuitton group - 101.1FM.

Today, among the Friday shopping ventures in Paris, I visited a little shop just off Rue Cler in the 7th Arrondiseement. Owned by a handsome man in his 40's (yes, I have a photo) for the last 10 years, the tastefully decorated shop has amazing delicacies from around the world: coffee beans from Guatemala, Brasil, Colombia and Costa Rica, sugar cane and vanilla extract from Madagascar, spices from India, honey from bees I have never heard of, tapenades from Italy, dried fruits from the countrysides of Bordeax, tea blends from England that left me delirious. Seriously, an incredible place that can't be missed. And yes, I asked; they don't ship. But what the heck, enjoy the present, just to go in and enjoy the flavors and smells is a treat. I could go there every day and find something else to buy. In my bag: Brazilian coffee, honey from talented bees, natural ginger spice, and Strawberry confiture.

And just before, I found a little "Cafe Americaine" called McCoy's. I go in and in there I find a collection of Pop Tarts, marshmallows, Twizzlers, peanut butter and all the good old American junk food. For someone who misses home, it's a great flashback but there's a sick price tag. EUR 7.50 for a box of Pop-Tarts; 3 euros for a little pack of Twizzlers. Luckily, I know how to control myself and I bought a Charm's blow pop for old time's sake. But when pleasure has no price, there is an address in Paris. Just so you know...

There's a little hideaway on Ave de la Bourdonnais (#81) (7th Arrd.), where two smiling Thai women give traditional massages. You walk in and I swear, you're in Thailand - wooden keychains, Buddhas, traditional clothes, massage accessories, jewelry, a little water fountain to stimulate the spirit, elephants in many sizes and variations, adorned in sequins and exotic colors and the smell of teas and incense overtakes your senses. I'm sure Parisians who go on vacation and come back gift-less can go in and redeem their forgetful selves with a little gift from Thailand here in Paris. I'm serious. And it gets you thinking, why bother going there? Thailand is here, right by the Eiffel tower.

And if that's not enough, over in the 10th Arrondiseement, is little India. A salon (Beaute Indien) where pretty women in Saris redefine the meaning of beautiful eyebrows and sell imported oils that promise to make you beautiful, stretch-mark less and wrinkly free. And in the background, Indian MTV - you gotta love it. And all this experience for only 8 euros. And you come out feeling like a star. Priceless.

Posted by enoura 16:01 Archived in France Comments (0)

On Exceptional People

sunny 20 °C

Two days ago, on one of my many ventures with my aunt here in Paris, we visited a friend of hers in the 15th arrondiseement. It was my first visit to the home of someone I never met; I had not had this experience since leaving Argentina. Up we went to her house located in a complex, reminiscent of historic ommunity-living during the Cold War, very unconventional but interesting. Welcoming us was a woman who looked just like Shirley MacLaine and every single word that came out of her mouth made me think it just might be her. "Shirley" greeted us into her house, one little museum filled with paintings of children from Germany in the 40's that she must have inherited from her parents, to a collection of her husband's airline food spoons (yes..), all this, in the simplest living conditions I have seen in a long time. She prepared us "American coffee", totally lifeless but served with gingerbread snaps that I love. We took a seat on her long terrace, sitting around a table covered in a tablecloth of wild flowers. I felt like I was sitting with my grandmother.

We started talking and her choice of words was rich and incredible. Every thing she said was chosen with precision. We get to Latin American men and it turns out, she too, had her share of lovers in the 1960's when she was young, bold and beautiful. And she confirmed "they will never be loyal and may have you as their beloved mistress for years, sometimes without even hiding it... and it's either you accept it or you decide you don't want to share your man." She's 75. I couldn't believe I was talking about lovers and sex with her!

From there, she told us the story of she met her husband of 47 (!) years back in Berkeley, California when she was 26, and was regarded as 'too old to marry at her age'. She was invited to a dinner party to meet one man and ended up with someone else, a young Frenchman who was 1.5 hours late to the dinner. By the end of the evening, they were caught up in conversation and he insisted on taking her home, refusing to let the intended bachelor get his rights of passage. Destiny! 6 months later they were married. Her marriage was not something that pleased her parents, especially her mom, because he wasn't of the same faith. "When I married him, my mother was devastated because he was not Jewish and she asked me whether I think I would be happy with him. And I told her, I don't know but I do know one thing for sure - I will never be bored with him." Then she looked at me and said, "And I have never had 5 minutes where I was bored." I think it's very rare to meet such people and hear of such relationships (if she finds a nice seashell, he'll go out and buy her a book of seashells from around the world). They went to Ivy League schools in their time and you can talk about anything with them. He could have retired years ago but at almost 80 years of age, he still dedicates his life to cancer research for children and in his home, out on the terrace are 2 old office cabinets full of essays that you just look at, in awe.

Her parents fled to the U.S. in 1939 with legal papers leaving her with one of their employees in their family-run company when she was just 1.5 years old. The intention was to go to the U.S. and come back for her. But who really knew if that would ever happen? They obtained legal papers for her and the couple who took care of her, arranged her departure to the US with two adults she never met before. On bringing her to this couple, her father's employee actually risked his life to get her to them and was seriously injured after being chased and fell off a train. She only discovered this 10 years ago when her father passed away, and a woman called her one night to ask her to give a speech of thanks for her grandfather's memorial; the man who saved her and she had no idea what she was talking about! For 2 hours, the woman told Shirley the history of how she ever got to America. And before she knew all this, every time her husband went on a trip, she did not know why, but a fear arose in her that he would never return and for years, she did not know how to say goodbye to someone, it would kill her. Today, it's all clear. And when you make a plan to meet her, you must come at the time you say you will.

Two days ago, a plumber came to the house to do some work. We were cooking (as usual) and he said "oy vay, the smell is great". My aunt turned around and asked him if he was Jewish and he told us a story he has only shared with very few people during his entire life. His dad is Catholic and his mother, Jewish but never had any affiliation to it; rather, everything he knows of that side is from his grandmother - her cooking, the culture, the way of talk, the holidays. No one in school ever knew and even today, people at work have no idea. He doesn't tell anyone - he says it causes problems and no one would believe him anyway because he doesn't "look it" and makes things easier for him. So he practices in silence and knows of his background only in the privacy of his own home. He says his mom looked like Golda Meir and his brother took on her character while he, his fathers, with blue eyes and ash brown hair. You never know who you're going to meet and what stories you will hear. It's unbelievable!

And so, Yom Kippur has just ended tonight. The fast seems to get easier for me with time and I am able to control my desires and urges. I spent the day walking around the neighborhood, admiring architecture, looking out for empty apartments and enjoying a sunny Saturday in Paris. I dont think there is one day without a tourist in the city. In the afternoon, I went to the synagogue on Rue de la Victoire, an incredible structure that surprisingly enough, resembles a church for obvious reasons; them being assimilation and desire to be modest back when it was built. It is beautiful and there must have been 1,000 people. It was beautiful!

And just before, yesterday, a Skype window opened on my laptop. And there it was, *him*. I was calm and answered; he began wishing me a happy new year, as I had disregarded the email (obviously!). And then asked "where are you?", "which seems to be the popular question this week" I said. I felt very interrogated and asked whether he was working for secret service, interested, or what. After all, it's been a couple of months - what was bringing this on? I answered what I wanted to, left some things open when he said he is wondering about my life. How can I trust that he is purely interested?! After all, I was in Argentina and he turned his back on me and it hurt me and I can't really forget that. I know it probably wasn't easy for him either, to think that someone might be coming for you is a big responsibility. But still, there is no need to be a jerk. I cut the conversation unconventionally short and received the famous 'beso' (kiss) that has always made me purr inside and make me melt on the spot. Today, I take the words and regard them with limited emotion to not get hurt. So, who knows!? If you want something, you should say what it is that you want!!We're beating around the bush with one another instead of head-on and only god knows why.

Last week, evening of Rosh Hashana, I got an email from *him*, some template he must have sent to 20 other Jewish people in the world, wishing us all a happy new year. I didn't even bother answering. Last year, I received a personal mail and this year, I am one of many? Wow, thanks. Only confirms my line to my friend back in NYC when we sat at the 72nd St Train Station..."they all come back - even if its for 2 minutes, 2 hours, 2 weeks or whatever. they do." And they do!!

I even got an email from a very old flame - "first-time" flames! What's going on with the universe lately?? We're in a series of back and forth on life. It's so funny to have these recalls of people who once made your heart pound and pulse in your ears to the point where you can't even hear anything around you. Where are those days of excitement!?

So tomorrow is a new day; and the one we've had today has ended and will be almost forgotten by then.

Having one of my closest friends visit me here in Paris last week was one of the best things that happened to me in months. It refreshed me more than I expected and I was able to speak to someone who KNOWS me. Six days of laughter, crazy stories and new, shared experiences in the City of Light were fantastic!! We ate way too much, danced, laughed, wandered the streets of Paris and cursed each other out with love. What better way to reunite and revisit your not-so-distant past? It was bittersweet!

We met up with Leti, a friend from Buenos Aires. In the heart of the Marais, at Chez Jeanette, we shared our stories, laughed and crazily enough, I soon saw how these two really resembled one another in character, habits, personal style and life experiences. It was strange but consoling that I made the right decision when choosing my friends and I was surprised that I didn't realize it before but again, it's all timing! And the two instantly connected, making us a trio I was proud of. It connected my world back home with the one I have been building over the last several months and it's amazing to see it come together right before my eyes. When she flew back, it was hard not to cry because really, we look out for one another and it's not something obvious in friendships today. I walked away really fast so I wouldn't fall into the trap of tears again! Learning to move on fast, continue with life, never stop and keep going.

And right after she left, news came in, just as she promised that it would. One of the jobs I'd been a candidate for dropped; they did offer me another position I will think about and reply to once I feel more comfortable. So one out of two. I was requested to do a technical test for the other position based in BsAs. I welcomed the challenge without realizing that I completely forgot how to go about the exercise. I started accepting that I was down to zero but before I knew it, I finished the exercise correctly. My aunt came back from the market saying that her Turkish butcher handed her a "blue eye" against the evil eye, "just in case" - we found that ironic and laughed that it might have helped! Personally, I think that there are some things you just CAN NOT control and you have to accept it. And why would I want to control everything...makes life so much less interesting.

It has been an exceptional year and I have met exceptional people and I wish for more this year and always. It's going to be another wild ride, I can sense it. I want to make a home somewhere (finally!!) and I'm hoping that I will be led into the right direction. No matter where I go, I hope that life's encounters will all be exceptional.

Posted by enoura 15:13 Archived in France Comments (0)

Spontaneity strikes again

rain 23 °C

So, I think my feeling lost and restless in NY was understood to all and incessantly repeated. The interviews were on, but virtual anyway, and took time to coordinate with 5 different time zone considerations. There were no calls from companies in NYC, never mind Craiglist Gigs I was wayyy overqualified for! It was just getting pointless. There is no will in me to live there. So why delay? What is the point really? Why choose to suffer?

And seeing my family on those Skype chats only made it harder. So, it was time for action. With the help of family, I was on a flight to Paris with a 3 hour departure from home notification. I closed my suitcase, which was always ready for departure - just in case, and headed to JFK. I couldn't believe how fast it all was. I was breaking my own records for spontaneity. But it felt good! When things aren't moving, you have to shake the system to make something happen. And I did it, taking a big chance.

It was funny to leave NY because it was really without saying a proper goodbye but this time, it felt okay. I had great experiences there, nice moments with people and quality time with myself and it was time to move on. I had enough of concrete! I arrived in Paris on August 26th, smiling, excited and feeling like I was on the road again. I enjoyed that feeling. I missed it!! The adrenaline, the ambiguity of what I might encounter and what kind of experiences will be added to these travels. It's kind of addictive - once I get back to normal desk life, this is going to be hard to shake out of my system. I doubt I will ever be able to do that.

So here I am in Paris. I take the Air France bus to the Etoile, already knowing exactly where I'm going and speaking the language. On the bus, I was lucky to meet someone fun and interesting with potential to work together. I arrived at my aunt's beautiful home and rang the bell. The sight of my mom after 6 months was amazing. Really truly incredible and overwhelming. Skype's good but this can't be replaced really. It was great. I also knew at that moment how hard it will be once she left back to Tel Aviv. The house was full of suitcases, something like a 'lost and found' section at the airport. Before I know it, I am loaded onto a car, with literally 35 suitcases of family members, and we headed out to Deauville. No manicure, no pedicure, no waxing, no hair repairs. Nothing. But what the heck, I am used to it and these travels have taught me the transience of materialsm. My cousin packed stunning Gucci and unremembered name brand gowns for me. How can I complain?!

The 4 days that followed were incredible and intense. Family around the clock, all of us in rotations with one another, catching up in conversations on life and what's been going on and just good times. From being solo 24 hours a day for 3 months, those 4 days literally wiped off the 6 months I have been alone and away. Nothing has changed; and that is comforting in a way. You know what you're missing and you know what you aren't. The wedding was incredible. Kings and queens, princes and princesses, all at a ball. So glamourous and tasteful. No words.

It is raining here in Paris tonight but it is still so beautiful and I sit in this gorgeous study in a Champ de Mars apartment, overlooking the Eiffel Tower. And still, I sometimes can't believe that I am here, that this all is happening, that I am travelling. It's like it's someone else's life and I will wake up soon to the standard reality of a 9-7 job, rented apartment, friends, life, etc. I had a job interview this morning with a well known brand here in Paris, starting to make connections, because "you never know". In the meantime, I am here, getting to know the city a bit differently this time around. The interviews of Buenos Aires are still on and things take time. But it's all for good cause and reason so I accept it. That guy who told me about time and patience was right.

Everyone has gone back to their homes, in Tel Aviv and London, and I am here, no longer alone but in the company of family. It was really hard to part from my brother and mom. Harder than I thought and I spent most of last night crying. One of my closest friends is arriving on Wednesday for 6 days. It's going to hurt like crazy when she goes home. I can enjoy the moment and the present but I already know, after parting from my family, that it won't be nice after she leaves. Why is it so hard? Why can't you take everyone with you?

I thought about going home last night but I know I need to be away. I need to try new things and open up new doors. When you're on a journey to kind of change the course of your life and relook at your choices, it is best to be alone I think. Being with family helps, it does. But it also doesn't let you disconnect from everything you know, to be on neutral ground and try things out for yourself. They just don't get what Buenos Aires has that other places don't. 'Why would you want to go so far?', they ask me. But it's not something you can really explain or grasp. You have to experience it and I know I'm not crazy. Every time I connect with someone back there, in that new home I made, I miss it all over again and wish I could be there again. Paris reminds me of Buenos Aires so much, it almost hurts. And it's so beautiful here but lacks the warmth of South America, the 3rd world elements of people living in poverty but smiling, in lots of deep economoic s$%& but still passionate. It doesn't exist here. Nor in NY.

You can't run away from your origins and home, but you can learn to embrace a new place and a new life. Life is all about that and the world is ours, and mine for that matter, and I want to get to know it before I make a home of my own in a corner of this world, which I dont know where will be yet. I actually have no clue right now - I would like for it to be Israel, and enjoy life at the sea with the sun and family. Sometimes I envy grounded people but on the other hand, they don't know what it feels like to fly - do they?

I have a few friends here and potential for many contacts but really, I'm starting over again. New friends, new initiative, new challenges, etc. Right now, I'm here. I don't know for how long because I came here with a one-way ticket purchased with mileage points of my aunt's Frequent Flyer membership (after traveling so much how is it that I dont have a free ticket yet!?). I don't know when or where the next destination will be but I hope it will continue to be into the arms of people embracing me. In the meantime, I enjoy my nostalgia on wonderful moments this year has given me and I would love a hug tonight in this rain, cozying up in this comfortable bed.

Bonne nuit.

Posted by enoura 14:34 Archived in France Tagged paris new eiffel life love direction Comments (0)

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