Attrapper-ing un rhume with the unaccompanied majors

And the time has come for Hostel #3. I was staying at a really nice, kind of pricy hostel in the 14th, but they ran out of space after two nights, so here I am at Aloha Hostel in the 15th, which reminds me of the unaccompanied minors room I once spent a few hours in before my connecting flight to Paris when I was eleven. It was a chaotic little room in an airport where a bunch of unaccompanied minors ran around wearing stickers declaring their unaccompanied minor status and watched movies until they were allowed to go to their gates. It was a little chaotic. Here everyone is my age, but because Paris is having a torrential downpour day, everyone is inside watching Lord of the Rings or checking email. This, compounded by the fact that Aloha's color scheme is neon and they also have a beer vending machine, makes it like a grown up room of unaccompanied minors. Only, instead of catching a flight, I'm waiting to get an apartment.

And I found the perfect studio in the 13th yesterday, so I have my fingers crossed that it will come through. It's in a nice old-ish building, not Haussman, but still pretty, with a courtyard/parking lot and views of other buildings around the courtyard. The studio is on the fifth floor, and it's being rented by a man who honest to god looks just like a gnome and kept on extolling the virtues of the building's lift, which is so small it could probably be an effective torture device on the claustrophobic. It fits three people leaning between two uncomfortably close walls and you can't turn around in it. And the gnome man kept telling me that the building is great because you don't have to take the stairs.

Um. If I get the apartment, I will only take the stairs. But I appreciated the sentiment.

Anyway, the studio itself is a good size, with a bedroom with a huge window and furniture (!) and an equipped kitchen and even a nice bathroom. It's the same price as the studio I saw in the 10th, and I wouldn't have to buy any furniture for it. This is a plus.

The area it's in is the 13th, which isn't as swank as a lot of other areas of Paris - it's a bit more working class, but all in all I don't think it would be a bad place to live. And the building is just off the Metro and it was really lively when I was there and felt really safe.

The other people visiting the apartment were mostly students, and the gnome said he wanted to rent it to someone who doesn't have to get their parents' permission first to rent it. He also seemed reassured that I have a job and a contract for a specific amount of time. He said that I am one of three people he's considering for the apartment, and I am really hoping it works out. When I told him I was American, he told me that I don't have an American accent, and that my accent sounds more Italian. I took it as a compliment.

This was after I looked at an room in the suburbs that is being rented by yet another middle-aged Frenchman. He kept talking about how the suburb was rich and white and conservative - all of which he presented as major pluses - and he was really nice but seemed a little bit racist. And after seeing the apartment and the surrounding area (it's like Bellevue in Washington State - comment dit-on "no way in hell"?) I know that I want to live in Paris no matter what. It might mean staying in youth hostels a bit longer or subletting or living in a less fancy district, but there is no way I am succumbing to the suburbs. I hate them at home, and I hate them here too. I'll take Paris any day, with all its grime and noise and air pollution. I mean, I kind of like those things.

Nuit Blanche was also a success. I went with some other assistants, and got crepes and watched a video installation outside of Centre Pompidou, which had free admission on Nuit Blanche, so we got to go in and see an exhibition of work by women artists, including Rachel Whitereade, Cindy Sherman, Barbara Kruger, Nan Goldin...basically everyone who was included in the feminist art unit of my art history class last spring. It was really cool to see the pieces in real life, though, just because when I see art in class I never think that I'll actually get a chance to see it in real life. It was a really good night. There was also a giant disco ball hovering over the Luxembourg Gardens.

Oh, and I managed to get a cold the next morning, so now I'm sniffling around Paris, discovering the joys of French cold medicine and tea. Last night I had dinner with some family friends, and they sent me home with both. It was great to see them, and to have all of my dumb Paris questions answered, although by the end of the night my French had seriously deteriorated. I've been spending a lot of time with the other assistants, and the program has some oversight, and the directors are doing their best to get us acclimated, but sometimes it just helps to talk to a French person who isn't paid to tell you that the children will love you because you're American.

Things are still a bit disorganized - I was supposed to meet the contact person for my school(s?) today, and I'm not scheduled to meet with him until Monday. But given that this is France, I am just glad there's a meeting at all.

I hope it stops raining soon. But this hostel is playing Nico and the Clash in the lobby, so it's an okay place to be stuck with a cold for now.