This first picture is from just before we met the old man. Apparently, girls like to kiss Oscar Wilde even now that he's dead. One Spanish girl even had written, "Dame amor ya por favor"! I don't know if I would've exactly read it, but a new Colombian friend of mine was there and she pointed it out. Also, just diagonal from my right hand is a note, "Te amo, Oscar". Yeah, I don't know him and don't love him, and I didn't really give him a kiss.
Having studied Spanish for years, I once learned about Goya's piece "Los fusilamientos," and I was sure excited to see a version in the cemetery! It was located near the communist soldiers' graves. I loved that, being under the tree, the light shone through just where Goya had originally painted the lightest figure of the painting as a focal point, leaving the rest in shadow.
I am definitely used to seeing American tombstones that are pretty simple and standard, with the more elaborate modern ones having engraved designs. Here, though, many of the cavaux (family tombs) resembled miniature churches, some complete with stained glass! This one was particularly beautiful and well-preserved, with Christ at the top, of course. :D
I didn't take a picture of the statue figure the group was focusing on near the stained glass, but it sure had an interesting story. You see, there are infertile women who believe that if they rub the zipper of Victor Noir's pants, they will be cured. Thanks to oxidation and the obvious lack thereof on some parts of the figure, you can tell women have kissed him and rubbed his feet, too. Yeah, I didn't want a picture of that.
Next stop: La Fontaine and Moliere!
It's hard to read, even in person, but this is the tombstone for Victor Hugo! I know that I recently wrote about noticing more details of my surroundings, and just tonight I realized that the Place Victor Hugo is just up the street from me. We learned from our kind, elderly impromptu tour guide that Victor Hugo is the only person who's had a street named after him while he was still living; the others were post-mortem. Hah, and little did I know that I live right near where he used to!
Chopin! I like classical music just fine, but growing up, his name bugged me because the ending didn't sound like how it's written. Well, not in English at least, but it turns out that it does make sense in French.
Champellion lays here. I didn't know it, but modern linguists have him to thank for many of our advances in the field--he was the man who solved the Rosetta Stone!!! I would've done an injustice by NOT taking a picture to pay homage.
As soon as I noticed the stained glass tombs, I grew an attachment, a fondness for them and looked for them everywhere we went, and this was by no means a small cemetery! I found this one towards the end of the workshop, and I thought it'd be cool to take a picture of the stained glass through a design in the door. I actually didn't realize until I downloaded the pictures that there must've been glass on the door, adding yet more detail and depth/dimension to it. I LOVE how it turned out! Stone/metal (strong), glass (colorful and light), and reflection of a "mini-chapel," all of which can represent Christ!
On our way out, we saw Rossini's tomb. I particularly like the flowers in the door.
Overall, the cemetery was beautiful and peaceful. I'm glad we went. And I was even more happy to notice that the main entrance (by which we exited) was engraved with Latin!
Later on, after stopping by my host home with enough time to stuff my face, I went to institute to the marriage prep class, which is apparently open for anyone married or wanting to be married. Besides, the other class was on Christ's parables, and I went to that one on Tuesday. ;)
Going back to the metro sometime later, I was actually by myself, unlike other times that I've hung around after church YSA activities. On the way, a guy turned to me and asked if he knew me because I looked super familiar. To be frank, I wasn't sure because I've met a lot of people and he is African and I wasn't sure if I'd seen him but hadn't met him or didn't remember his name, and he did look somewhat familiar at first. Nevertheless, I knew within moments that I sure wasn't the girl he'd seen at the World Cup, no matter how much alike he claimed us to be. He seemed nice and didn't give me the heebie-jeebies, and we were both going to the metro, so we continued talking. I kept thinking to be careful about what info I gave, so I kept my answers pretty general, saying that I was from WA without giving a city. At the end, he asked what line I was taking, answering that he was going on such-and-such. My answer? "Une autre," which simply means, "Another one." He asked if I was busy and if I'd be interested in getting some wine with him, to which I promptly responded that I was somewhat in a hurry and that I don't drink wine or beer, so thank you, but no. He actually was quite persistent in basically saying he wanted to spend more time with me, and he seemed sincere, but I consistently said no and watched as he walked in the direction of his train before going to mine.
I'm just glad I was in a public place with other people around! I realized I should've used the vous form rather than the tu form to maintain distance and not seem overly friendly, but there's no changing that and it was something in the first place that we were able to communicate. And although I feel a bit un-Christlike for not inviting him to church, I'm glad that I did not disclose the location of my safe-haven in this place. Today, my daddy emailed me, concerned about me going on single dates with guys here, and I'm thankful to have been able to tell him I'm okay. What's amazing is that I didn't tell him until tonight about this guy, and he'd emailed me earlier this afternoon, so I don't know if he even knew about my status on FB. Talk about feeling spiritual guidance for your children!
Friday, Day 19: As for today, I had class but no atelier so I was home free at 1pm! I took a nap and went into town, stopping by the institute building to see about meeting up with BYU kids. Finding that they weren't there, I sent some emails and then made my way over to the Hotel de Ville where there's a free exhibit on the impressionist masterpieces from the Musee d'Orsay. I'm sure my older sister, Cassi, would've eaten it up, and I'm proud to say I've now seen some real Van Gogh, complete with his signature, as well as Boldini, Gauguin, Manet, and Degas. Sadly, I wasn't permitted to use my camera. Or my phone, so I even missed a call from home!
My exhibit visit was followed by a hunt for a nice sac to use in place of my backpack, after which I returned to the church building for a Friday night YSA activity about skin care. I was disappointed that it was more of a demonstration/explanation than a pampering, but at least I had some good exposure to French. And the dinner Sister Jones cooked up of funeral potatoes, salad, and drinks was DELICIOUS! As usual, we hung out a bit, this time deciding to buy some ice cream and watch a movie, "500 Days of Summer." It was kind of cute, but unfulfilling and dirty and...meh. One little gem I gained from it, combined with an observation from "Midnight in Paris" was that Spanish and French both have a swear word that I'm sure is etymologically related. Oh, and we watched it in English with French subtitles, which subtitles became Portuguese a couple of times! But even for linguistic purposes, I don't think it was worth it. But I am glad that I'm spending time with French-speaking members here.
I forgot to add something! So, one of my former students read my FB status about the guy asking me out, and she made a comment about me getting the luck with the creepers. Yeah, I don't think that made my mom feel very good because I still hadn't told her Thursday's story. But my student's comment reminded me that I never blogged about another creeper I intended to blog about! See, one day I decided to have class outside because the weather was nice, my students wanted it, and I didn't need the projector. Well, as I was talking to my class about using the conditional and future tenses to make conjectures, this guy walking nearby changed his path so that he would walk by us. No, he wasn't on the sidewalk; instead, he was on the strip of cement separating the grass from the bushes. Having my back to him, I had seen him in my periphery, but it wasn't until my students started laughing and I turned to look that I realized! As soon as he was out of earshot, I integrated his behavior into the activity, asking them to make conjectures--serves him right for acting suspicious.
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