Traveling Girl

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As many of you know I have been out and about. This week I traveled to San Francisco to finish up a few things at the French Consulate.

Even though I am not a huge fan of San Francisco, I was presently surprised with the the people that I met. The city was busy, as expecting. Many people jetting off to work, others sitting in the coffee shop answering emails, catching up with friends or getting credit counseling. Yes, the coffee shop I sat in had a bank in it! Despite the fact that I was in the business district it made me a little nervous. Ha!

The cafe was three floors, the basement floor was were the lounge was. Filled with bean bags, round tables and a stair area for you to lay down, it was more of a chill place then a cafe. Second floor, or if you’re technical the ground floor, was littered with tables, and couches. This is were the bulk of the computer having public sat and mingled. And where I sat for two hours waiting for my appointment. Apparently, I had not expected my flight to be super on time or that traffic from the airport was going to be accommodating so I overly padded my time. Not, bad I suppose less stress is always a good thing.

 

So, while I waited I spotted a man, siting with me on one of the couches, with a rather intriguing looking gift bag.  I tried very hard not to stare while he pulled out a small pink box and set it on the table in front of him. The look of joy he had on his face made me think he was going to propose to someone. So, I too was getting excited. Then he opened the box. Rather slowly I might add. He did so as though he were allowing whatever was in the box to breath. Then he pulled at the sticker on the tissue paper and slowly peeled back the paper to reveal the macaroons inside. He smiled at the contents, and for a moment just appreciated what he was looking at. I looked around to see if he was waiting for someone but no one came. Then he reached in and too one of the delicate cookies out. I had to look away then cause he looked at me. Embarrassed I continued my people watching out the large window.

To my surprise the man invited me to have one of his macaroons. “They are from Paris.” he said. I shook my head no, and polity declined. I was taught after all not to accept anything form strangers. But then he persisted, it was then I noticed he had a accent.

“Are you French?” I asked.

He nod. “Yes, my sister just came to visit me. She brought me these from Paris.” he grinned.

He then offered again, and this time I couldn’t say no. Not to a fellow French! And goodnight, I was not disappointment. The cookie almost made my eyes roll into the back of my head, and my mouth ooze out saliva. The pleasure from this cookie was the start of my great day!

We then started talking, I let it slip I had an appointment at the consulate. He informed me that he had been there just yesterday renewing his passport. To my utter surprise he then informed me that the knew of the village where my family was from. I made a joke that he could be my cousin. After we both stopped laughing we began to wonder, could we? He was from France, his parents were from Morocco My mother is from France her father was from Morocco. Then we cautiously exchanged names. One name matched! Strange right! In the end, I made a new friend who not only treated me kindly but also made me feel at ease about my appointment.

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Inside the consulate, I was greeted warmly. The American in me was going off of stereotypes, and I was sad by them. At first we spoke in French, and then I ran out of vocabulary and politely asked if we could speak English. The girls there were delighted that I even tried and then asked. Though I was scheduled for one hour, my appoint was a breeze and ended thirty minutes later!

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Free from Consulate I took the city with an old friend. Because my husband is such a Giant’s fan, and so is my friend, we did a little shopping at the Giant’s store. The people there were friendly enough, they were very helpful in getting me the size that I needed for my husband. Armed with our Giants gear we headed down the street to get some sandwiches. Though I would have preferred clam chowder, my friend is not a fan. At this time of the day the city was coming to a quiet buzz, the people having finally made it to work. It was the perfect weather, the perfect day. Not only did I get to hang out with a good friend, but I also registered to vote in France and get my ID.

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It was a great day!

Until Next time!

scribblingwriter

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