Bonjour from Bar le Duc!

Bonjour tout le monde!  I'm finally here in Bar le Duc!  What a day (or two) it's been.... My flights were all great but the SNCF strike really tested me.  Let's start with my arrival in Paris.  After I passed through customs, I saw the sign that read SORTIE (exit) and immediately went through the sliding doors and they shut behind me.  But it turns out that you were only supposed to pass through that door after collecting your luggage from the baggage carousel.  I wish I could blame this on lack of directional signage, but no, it was completely my fault.  So, that was my first moment of panic because it was forbidden to enter back through those doors.  I ran to the information desk and explained that I had forgotten to pick up my bags after customs and the man simply told me, "No problem.  As soon as the next person exits through the sliding doors, just run back through them."  I thought this was a terrible idea and that if a terrorist asked him the same question, this man would've unwittingly let them bypass security.  But who was I to complain.  So I ran through the sliding doors as they opened and someone walked out and was immediately stopped by a police office (of course) but I frazzledly (not a word I'm sure) explained in botched French that I forgot to pick up my luggage.  He smirked and let me pass, and then I heard of surge of laughter rise behind me as he told the other officers what I had done.  Stupid American. 

The next order of business was getting on the RER (the suburban Metro) to get the the Paris train station.  Unfortunately, this was the first time trying to carry all my luggage by myself, and it turned out to be much more difficult than I had imagined.  My back ached almost immediately from my huge backpacking backpack, and I thought my arm was going to fall off from dragging my big rolling suitcase behind me.  I had to take frequent breaks.  Once on the RER I had a welcome half hour rest as it rode into the city itself.  As the graffiti-tagged banlieues outside Paris raced passed me, I smiled at the sight.  I was finally in France.  I felt completely different from the last time I arrived in France, two years ago.  Even though I had been with ten other people and I was going as part of a program that had planned out every travel detail for me, I had been a complete wreck when I arrived in Strasbourg.  But this time around, I felt comfortable and at ease.  The sights weren't new for me anymore, but familiar.  As we approached Gare du Nord, Sacré Coeur rose from the skyline, perched on its hill overlooking the city.  Had my camera not been packed at the bottom of my backpack, I would've taken a picture because it was a beautiful vision. 

Finally we arrived at Gare du Nord, and my next mission was to get to Gare de l'Est, from where (I hoped) my train to Bar le Duc would be departing.  Even though the two train stations are only a few blocks apart, I opted to take the Metro because of my bags.  Well, if only I had known how relatively simple it was to carry my suitcases through the airport, I might have appreciated it more.  Because once I got off the RER, I had to carry my luggage up and down multiple staircases in order to take the Metro.  Even though my boss had emailed me to warn me against accepting help from strangers who offered to carry my suitcase, I still allowed two different men to help me carry them up and down the stairs.  Obviously if they were sketchy looking and smelled bad I probably would've said no, but they were both so nice and polite, and one of them joked that he hoped I would find some escalators during the rest of my journey and wished me bon courage. 

So then I was at Gare de l'Est, talking to the man at the information desk, who informed me that ALL trains to Bar le Duc had been canceled.  ALL OF THEM.  If it hadn't been for the Valium I had taken at the beginning of my journey, I probably would've burst into uncontrollable sobbing on the spot.  But fortunately, I held it together as he told me that there was a train living in 20 minutes for St. Dizier, which was about 30km from Bar le Duc.  I tried to call my boss, Isabelle, from a pay phone to let her know my situation, but the phones only accepted Carte Bancaire, which is a debit card with an electronic chip (they call it a puce or "flea" in French).  Well, I didn't have one.  So my only choice was to get on the train and hope for the best once I got to St. Dizier.  Fortunately, I had bought a first class ticket originally (it had only been 6 euros more than the second class!), and that still carried over to this train.  This was a life saver, because the train car was awesomely comfortable, spacious and nearly empty, save for a nice group of Australians who helped me with my luggage. 

The train ride itself was fine.  I slept most of the time, then woke up and got a bloody nose out of nowhere.  Fortunately the train's carpet was red so I kind of let it leak on there til I could find my kleenex..... gross.  Once in St. Dizier I had to wait two hours to take the bus to Bar le Duc.  This was probably the low point in my journey because I felt completely stranded.  Even though I knew I could take the bus to Bar le Duc, it still felt like I was caught in uncertainty.  Would the bus actually come?  Would it take me to the right place?  Once I was there would I be able to find Isabelle?  Fortunately, it was yes to all three.  Besides the awkward encounter with the bus driver asking me to come back to his place (was he serious??) and the minor inconvenience of the strike going on in Bar le Duc as well, causing traffic to be really jammed up, I got the the Bar le Duc station, borrowed a nice person's phone and called Isabelle to come get me.

Isabelle is, in a word, amazing.  She took me to get my paperwork filled out at the foyer at which I'll be living, helped me bring all my bags up three flights of stairs to my room, then took me back to her apartment so she could make me dinner and so that I could email my parents from her computer.  She told me she'd be my mother for the time I was here!  I feel a lot better knowing that she's here to help me out.  After that, I went back to my room and crashed for 13 hours.  I've been feeling great all day so I'm hoping I beat the worst of the jetlag. 

Today was mostly running errands.  Got my bus pass (so I can ride the bus for free!), bought some groceries and unpacked... kinda.  It's still a mess.  But I'm really feeling settled in, and hopefully the weather will be nice tomorrow so I can explore the city (it was pouring rain all day, which led to a funny conversation with Isabelle about the idiom "It's raining cats and dogs."  She asked, "Do people actually say that?")

Alright, McDonald's is closing soon (I don't have internet yet so here I am....) so I should wrap up.   Stay tuned for more exciting updates....