A Moment in Noailles

Marseille is full of people who are not of French origin. Many of the people here ARE French--they were born and raised here, which makes them French by citizenship. But their parents are from North or West Africa, and they are oh-so-not typical French. There are pocket areas in town where you can go and forget that you are in France. One of these areas is called Noailles.

I love Noailles. It is vibrant, colorful, always moving, never quiet, and full of life. The streets are narrow, the buildings painted in colorful graffiti, the sidewalks covered with people just hanging out and talking. The stores sell North African spices, West African musical instruments, and clothing from both parts of the continent.

I was walking through the area the other night and as I found myself right in the middle of the street market, I had a moment.

You know in the movies when someone is in the middle of a very busy, noisy, populated place and they feel overwhelmed? The camera makes it look the world is spinning around the person, and as the noise increases, you think they are either going to freak out or pass out. As I stood there in the market, it felt much like that--the spinning and loud noise--except not in a negative sense at all. It took me a minute to figure out what it was that brought the feeling, the moment.

I could only hear Arabic.

My French has reached a place where I understand the conversations I hear around me on the street. So at any given moment, I'll be walking down the street, and hear snippets of conversations in either French, English, or even Portuguese. I understand it all. My ear has gotten used to it and I sort of tune it out and don't hear the noise. But as I stood in Noailles, and only Arabic was being spoken, my brain kicked into gear, causing me to understand that I wasn't understanding anything I was hearing. And I was hearing a cacophony.

It was beautiful and made my world spin for a moment.

I kept walking the length of the market, listening to the Arabic and enjoying myself. As I came to the end of the street, I stepped back into France. The moment had passed.

New home = New Blog Design

Well, I left Paris four months ago...and have barely blogged since then.  But as I was working on the website for work the other day, and was frustrated with the layout and template for it, I thought to myself, "Better Country needs a new look too!"  Since I don't live in Paris anymore, it seemed that maybe I should change the Paris theme to the blog.  But I'm way too distracted to take time to look for a new template for this blog...but my friend, Mrs. X (that's her name cause she's married and she lives in X), is into digital scrapbooking (I don't actually know what that is, but I didn't have the heart to tell her, but she's gonna read this and find out), and told me that she would come up with my new template for me.

And voila!  Didn't she do a great job?!  I just gave her the picture from up top that I took while in Morocco and then let her go to town.  Okay, I was a little more picky than that...as you all can imagine and she can testify.  But I'm happy with it.

Does it will mean I'm going to blog more?  Probably not.  Especially since I've been given the responsibility of taking care of the work website...and come this summer, there's supposed to be a weekly new post on it.  I don't envision much blogging to come.  But, as I am planning my trip to America, and DO plan on blogging then, I thought I'd go ahead and start gearing up with a new design for the blog now.  Look at me--planning ahead!  :)

I still love Marseille.  I miss Paris sometimes, especially the MMTATI's and the Superheroes.  But I'm going there next month to visit with Prince(ss) Harry, who might be able to convince me to go to the top of the Eiffel Tower.  But Marseille...oh, the sunshine!  oh, the Mistral!  oh, the graffiti!  oh, all the Arabic!  I sure do love it here.

Here's a sure-fire sign that I love it here.  I went to the prefecture last week to pick up my visa (it wasn't ready, though), and when I came home I actually said the words, "I love the prefecture!"  My friend looked at me and said, "Did you hear what you just said?"  I laughed at myself.  My reason had been because I was surrounded by Arabic and didn't hear French the whole time I sat there waiting in vain.  So Marseille has rubbed off on me enough that I even enjoyed a pointless trip to the prefecture.  Ha.

Perhaps I'll blog again within the next month or so.   I'll keep you posted.  Get it?  Posted?  hahahahaha.