Paris is a beautiful city. One which you love to hate. I often say it’s like a bad boyfriend/girlfriend. You complain about him when he’s with you, but can’t stop missing him when he’s gone.
After living in Paris for a few months or years, you come to hate it for the bureaucracy, dirty streets and poor customer service but you can’t forget it for its beautiful buildings, lively activities and diverse people. Paris undeniably transforms you into a different person. The culture is so distinct, it stains you, leaves a mark on how you live your life. From the little things such as what you eat to the big things like how you spend your money. Having moved back to Jamaica, here are a few things I’ve noticed about Paris, leaving his mark on my life.
Ever since I was a kid, I wanted a little puppy, that along with world peace. To anyone else, this would seem like the less difficult of the two things. However, not in my house. Me getting a puppy was just as likely as me getting world peace… Not happening.
I tried everyting, I begged, I bawled. I even adopted a little stray I found once, and had him for an ENTIRE day. Until my parents came home and laid down the law.
The number of fingers on your hand. Over the past week I have been thinking really hard about friendship, gratitude and joy. I read somewhere once, that if in your lifetime, you manage to find five true friends, people you could say were truly here for you and loved you somewhat unconditionally, you had it made.
I have been thinking how true that is and how blessed I have been to have more than 5 of those people in my life. I’m sure if you think of it, you do too.
It is so easy get overwhelmed with the drama and stress of daily life and the toxic people, that we forget to stop and be grateful for the people in our lives that are just awesome. Continue reading Lessons On Friendship→
I’m walking through the Gare de Nord, one of Paris’ major transportation hubs.
Located far from the graceful Eiffel Tower and Paris’ other more renown monuments. It’s an area thats more ‘populaire’, as they’d say in French. An eclectic mix of hustling immigrants, people commuting from home and work, dealers in illegal substances and people rushing to catch the Eurostar. Busy, bustling, dirty – dangerous if it were after midnight. But it’s mid afternoon. It’s now a shopping gallery. I feel quite safe.
Last weekend the consulate of Jamaica to Benelux, Spain, and Portugal, based in Belgium, hosted a gala event at the Linder Hotel in Antwerp. Proceeds were in aid of the restoration of the beautiful and iconic Ward Theatre in Jamaica.
The event’s MC was none other than his ‘Royal Humorousness’ Oliver Samuels. If you are a Jamaican you know who Oliver Samuels is. If you aren’t Jamaican and you don’t know him. You missed out. He is one of Jamaica’s, and might I even say the Caribbean’s, greatest comedians.
If you follow me on Facebook, you would be aware of my obsession with bows. Living in France, there weren’t always many good solutions for combing black hair and when there were they were often ridiculously expensive. In 2011, I started following a few YouTubers and discovered or should I say, rediscovered the bandana.
I’m sure you’re thinking, you’ve seen this dress somewhere before. Well you have. Right here…
On this occasion I needed a simple outfit for a workshop I held on social media. The black and white checkered dress provided a simple base to start, something that a belt and and lovely coloured pair of shoes could easily transform. On this particular day, I was set on wearing blue, and so blue it was.
It’s a hot summer-ish day in Paris and I’m heading out with a friend to go eat Jamaican food. Life doesn’t get any better right? Well it does, but first, it gets worst… My friend tells me he’ll be arriving … on a scooter.
Though I absolutely love anything on wheels – cars, rollerblades and bicycles. Scooters and motorbikes just never quite grabbed me. The thought of being burnt on the thigh by a hot exhaust pump (muffler) or falling to the ground in the middle of the street doesn’t turn me on. So I wasn’t excited, to say the least. However, I restrained the desire to ‘raler’ as the French would say and instead decided to patiently wait and see.
I’m glad I did.
In France, personal hygiene products are very expensive. Products that run 1£ in the UK, cost 4€ or 5€ here. Case in point, hand soap and deodorant. I have known of friends who have sent home to the US for their favourite toothpaste or perfume, or who have filled their bags with deodorant (yes deodorant), shampoo and body wash on their way back from a trip to the UK.
Two weeks ago I was invited to go under the hat once again. Though it was my third time (you can read about my first time here), this occasion was a little different. I hosted the entire evening! It was quite eventful. There was even a little fight, hehe. Unusual for us, but still quite exciting. Despite the nerves, I made it through with a smile, ready to do it again! Below is the report of the night’s event I posted on the official Spoken Word page.
Last Monday marked the first day a woman hosted all three rounds of Spoken Word Paris.