Lazy Days in Paris are More Awesome than Lazy Days Elsewhere

So... last night was super fun.

No, I didn't go clubbing. I stayed in with Sofia (the woman who is letting me live in her apartment... she's awesome) and three of her friends. We grabbed somewhat suspicious Chinese from the buffet place next door that was open late and sat around, talking, laughing, watching youtube videos, and singing our asses of to early 2000 pop hits until 4am.

Thus, my day today started rather late.

As in I woke up for real around 1:30 in the afternoon.

Sofia is still in the process of moving in, so she went off to pack things up from her parents' house while me, her roommate Perrine and Perrine's friend (also from Angers!) ate breakfast, which consisted of eggs, sautéed veggies, and pancakes with real maple syrup.

We ate that around 3, slowly got ready for the day, and headed out the door around 4:30 or so th an art exhibit in Montparnasse.

Public transport is awesome. We need to invest in Dayton, I've decided.

We took the bus from Pont d'Orleans (our apartment) to Montparnasse, where we cut through the cemetary to get to the art gallery. Seriously, I love that place, and discovered new things while just zipping through (like an ornate headstone with 4 names and no one burried there because the entire family was exterminiated in Auschwitz in 1942, as well as awesome new sculptures and the final resting place of one Samuel Beckett). Anyways, once we reached the other side, the gallery was not far at all.

The exhibition was the photography of David Goldblatt. A resident of Johannesburg, his photographs reflect the sociology of South Africa from 1948 to 2010. In case you're not up on your global history, that includes a LOT of Apartheid and related, continuing racism.

This exhibition was sublime. It was so difficult to walk through and read about, but the photography was so excellent and the people so beautiful... it was impossible to look away. Partitioned into two galleries, the first was images of Apartheid through its various stages; the second was portraits of ex-convicts at the sight where they had committed their crimes, as well as their stories.

I only have pictures from the first section because the portraits would not be complete without their stories and I do not want to recount those. They are all so sad. But they definitely demonstrate the link between environment and personality. It was fantastic.

This is the primary image of the exhibition:

I do not know who these people are or what their history is, but their faces speak volumes upon volumes about what life as underprivelaged, segregated members of society is like.

The second image is of children playing in a segregated section of the town (for blacks only) that was soon destroyed:

This image haunts me and I'm not quite sure why. Perhaps it is the fact that they are physically harming another child for amusement as a group, perhaps it is because the white children are so distant and only stopped to be in the picture... or perhaps it is because I worry for what became of the children playing that day after their homes were destroyed by the government.

Below is an image bridging the two galleries. It was taken in 2009:

It is an image of Zimbabwean refugees sleeping in a church after fleeing from the political unrest in thier country. I was in Zambia when this happened, and the cities along the border were recieving a large influx of Zimbaweans as well. South Africa got the worst of it. This striking image does not prepare you well enough for te second gallery, but it is important to know. And what better way to express anguish and injustice than with the sublime power of art?

After this most excellent exhibit that was so worth leaving the apartment and trudging through a rainy day for, Perrine went off to run an errand and me and her cousin caught the bus back to the apartment, making a short stop at the grocery store for dinner (cheese, half a baguette, and two plums) before chilling out.

Sofia was arranging the things she had moved in today and we hung out for a bit before me and Sofia caught the metro across the river to the Champs-Élysée to see this:

English with French subtitles starting after 10pm? HELL YEAH! My brain was jumping for joy. Plus, I love this movie and it was so worth sharing the experience with Sofia and her friend that I hadn't yet met.

Oh, and a note about French cinemas: the seats are super comfortable, but there are no cup holders; there are even more advertisements and trailers before the show than in the States, and they're mixed together... which is super confusing; you can buy a discount card for 20 euros a month and get all sorts of cheap prices, as well as get your guests to the cinema discounts (Sofia has one, so I only paid 4 euros for my movie ticket!); the etiquette is very different amongst French audiences-- for example, they would never EVER consider applauding after a film if they liked it.

I now have a giant list of French films that I must watch.

Tomorrow, I might venture out again... but regardless it's going to be a Lazy Sunday.