Manifestation

After escorting my sister to the airport for her return flight to the US, and dealing with running from train to train to bus to terminal to bus to terminal to desk to desk to desk and begging and begging and begging and again running full speed to the gates to get her on the plane for Detroit (we mistakenly thought 3 hours would be enough), I took another bus to the train station, and rode the RER B into Madison Paris. (Boy, it must really be home if I accidentally call it Madtown!)

I switched to the metro at Denfert-Rochereau, and found jam-packed metro cars, the roars of shouting and banging drums, and an angry argument between an elderly woman and a man on line 6, just inches from my ear.

Arriving at my home base, I found tens of thousands of students, young adults, and older adults are marching through the Place d'Italie, protesting a new law that many find unjust.

Despite the protest, I knew I had things to do, so I stopped in the Boulangerie de la Place to pick up mini-pavés for lunch and some baguettes des Prés for supper. Unfortunately, I didn't have enough cash on me, and didn't have a big enough bill to use my bank card.

I'll just take the pavés and one baguette.

Just the one?

I don't have enough cash, and it would be pretty hard to get to the bank now.

She looked over my shoulder at the crowded streets, the banners, the megaphones, the flags, banners and balloons, and the police surrounding the group with their whistles blaring, and the Paris street cleaners who follow every protest, and said with a laugh and a smile,

Yes, I guess it would! Have a good day!