most people go to france to see paris - la tour eiffel, les champs-elysees, and the whole 'city of light' scenario. but i saw other aspects of france, met people who were not french, ate other than quiche and fromage and foie gras. some of the most memorable times i had were spent with africans in herouville-st. clair:

a well trained malian psychologist who i met at a bus stop and who was stuck in a peanuts paying job as receptionist at a hospice for problem youths. he introduced me to a malagasy who taught me the unusual french expression 'patati patata'. an ethiopian who persisted in correcting my french whenever i used 'quand' where he thought i should use 'lorsque'. a young camerounian ras who was as cute as a button but who was moving with a white french girl who got nasty when she found out i was from the land of bob marley whom her boyfriend revered. there was even a lone 'beninois'. i don't know how to say that in english. he loved my buju banton cd loved the way i danced and didn't believe rastamans' dreadlocks were their actual hair.

i used to hang out a lot with them, spending long evenings drinking red wine and eating 'petits pois' and 'arachide' and i absolutely loved the pasta - my favourite, when it was cooked by the weird but supercool housemate of my african friends. his name was thierry (no, not henri!) and he was a frenchman thru and thru, with his ponytail and occasional beret. oooooooo i loved hearing him cuss when paris-st.germain was losing. putain merde de bordel he would scream at the tv. there were many other colourful expressions which i'll reserve for the next entry maybe. he was perpetually unemployed and lived on social security and spent most evenings at the local betting shop.

i especially enjoyed saturday nights dancing at the fonderie, a community centre with a huge hall that hosted lots of events. the weekly african dance night was a big favourite with all the locals, black and white, and black-white. i danced up a storm through the salsa and other latino-african beats, and an algerian girl taught me some sort of arab dance. i don't remember the name of the dance but the girl was all up on me touching me all over and practically making love with me on the floor. but i blazed everything up when they put on some real jamaican dancehall music. i buss some big wine and i was the centre of attention for three full tracks. heaven knows how i found the strength and creativity to keep it up for that long! la reine de la danse. absolute magic. and i lived it in france.

more peace. more love.