|
It started after New Year?s. At first, I thought it was a bit of remaining jet lag, having just arrived back from an amazing two weeks in the States, first in New York with friends and then in Washington DC with family. I arrived in the dusky pre-dawn morning of Paris. I exchanged my American dollars, got more Euros from the ATM, made the sound decision to just catch a cab and found myself relieved to be driving through the streets of "home."
The next day was New Year?s Eve and another great night in Paris. Rami and Paulo headed out for dinner at a Mexican assistant's house and then for drinks at Tour Eiffel. But Wei Wei and I opted for an "indoor" night, and we went to M's (a friend of my boyfriend, let's call him "M" and call my boyfriend "Jerry" simply because it sounds so ridiculous). At 10 pm, we arrive with our bottle of wine, fait la bise (kiss on both cheeks) to everyone. There is M's cousin visiting from Poitiers, another friend Yacine (Moroccan, lived in Italy) a couple of Ethiopian girls and a few others. We eat salmon and caviar, smoke cigarettes and shisha, and drink lots of wine and champagne. The clock strikes midnight at M's place; Bonne Annees' are exchanged between flavored shisha smoke and plastic cups filled to the brim with champagne.
About 2 am we head out, the metro is free all night and packed with people. We run to make the train, and everyone is shouting. There is music and bottles everywhere; champagne, wine, rum. Bonne Annee! Bonne Annee! We reach the Ethiopian restaurant in Montparnasse where there is a little dance party and more drinks. They are doing the beautiful dance I've seen many times in Washington, Eskesta, an Amharic name meaning "shoulder dance." After, we leave with more people from the restaurant and head to Bastille, always a young and trendy area. M's favorite Corsican bar is closed but we end up at another place. I think it was American but they played Latin music the whole time. The guys ordered a bottle of whiskey and we stayed there spinning with drinks and laughter and dancing all night. We all go back to Nation metro station together and fait la bise one more time, I forget three people because at that point I'm tired. They all tease me that I'm American and don't want to kiss. Wei Wei and I arrive home around 7 am.
Bonne Annee!
Ariana Austin is a freelancer writer currently based in Paris where she writes on arts and culture and foreign affairs. Her work has appeared in Trace magazine,the Foreign Service Journal and the Washington Post. She is happy to bring you a 20-something view of living, loving and learning in Paris. Contact her with any comments, questions or ideas.
Bookmark
Email This
Comments (0)
![]() Write comment
|













It started after New Year?s. At first, I thought it was a bit of remaining jet lag, having just arrived back from an amazing two weeks in the States, first in New York with friends and then in Washington DC with family. I arrived in the dusky pre-dawn morning of Paris. I exchanged my American dollars, got more Euros from the ATM, made the sound decision to just catch a cab and found myself relieved to be driving through the streets of "home."









