November 25, 2004, Jardins du Luxembourg.

November 25, 2004, Jardins du Luxembourg.

November 25, 2004: The Luxembourg Gardens. In the background, you can see the Saint-Sulpice church, which was nextdoor to where I lived when I first moved to Paris. I took the dreamy location for granted.

November 25, 2004, Paris, France: Thanksgiving day was chilly, yet the sun was out all day. I took advantage of the weather, considering most days here tend to be gray and rainy. Here is a photo I took in the Gardens of Luxembourg.

November 25, 2004, Paris, France: Something was happening on the streets of Paris today. Here's a 9 a.m. view of the street right outside of my college (La Sorbonne Nouvelle). If you look hard enough you will be able to see the herd of gendarmeries on horses trotting around the corner.

I watched the airing of 'Le Vrai Journal' pass on Canal+ television today! Côte d'Ivoire's raggae singer Ticken Jah Fakoly also had a live interview on the show. His music is insightful and political; certainly worth checking out. I have had truly wonderful experiences with Cote d'Ivoiriennes in both New York City and Paris, and I am crossing my fingers that the current situation in the country will improve.

Today, a media agent invited us to participate in the airing of a liberal, well-known television show here: 'Le Vrai Journal'. Today's guest star, José Bové, the apparent Michael Moore of France, is known for having dismantled a McDonalds with his tractor.

ENTRY: le metro hystérique

So Matthieu and I step on the metro at my stop Argentine and find seats near a group of middle-aged German women, all four laughing so hysterically that their faces are bright red. I begin picking at the viennoise baguette in my bag, responding to questions Matthieu is asking about my day.

The red-faced ladies continue laughing like madwomen, slapping their knees, gasping for breath as nearby passangers attempt focusing on other subjects. Before I know it, the pregnant blonde woman sitting ahead of me begins to giggle. As if on cue, the graying businessman next to her cracks a smile before beginning to hold back laughter.

Miraculously, the fit of laughter immediately spread to everyone in every direction of the metro car. At least fifty people were sitting ahead of me, commuting alone to their apartments after long hard days at work. All of them were laughing hysterically at this point.

I was in a state of disbelief, yet Matthieu and I both began giggling to one another. Minutes later, as I gasped for breath and continued wiping away tears of laughter, I reasoned that if this madness wasn't some reality TV stint, someone must have certainly planted laughing gas in our car. I had no answers for those who had just gotten on the metro at the Champs-Elysées, commuters curious to know why the entire metro was roaring with laughter.

The passangers began to calm themselves down, and I realized that it was neither a joke nor a science experiment. The four German women continued to laugh, yet the others on the metro grew distant and emotionless once again, staring straight ahead past their neighbors busy reading the financial section of le Figaro.