One of these days, I caught the morning sun and took the ticket from Paris to the zone 5 of ĂŽle-de-France. It was a freezing morning and silence poured serenity around me and over the fields on the top of a hill where Jambville village seemed to be on the top of the world.
It is the top of the world, because I can’t stop returning over there again and again, when I am longing for silence, for beauty, for space and for peace
This strange and full of uncertainty corona-period is, at the same time, quite rich and interesting.
I haven’t seen my family since the last year, and I’m not going to travel to see them during winter holidays. I would rather wait for a vaccine. But I saw Greece this summer, and discovered some new astonishing places over there.
I have managed to find a job for three months: it reanimates my multi-language skills and keeps my mind quiet and busy.
Before starting the job, my mind was (and still is, but to a lesser degree) preoccupied with administrative things related to my new stay permit in France (I am changing status from “student” to “employee”). The procedure now takes even more time than before the Covid-19, and one should have much bigger reserve of patience in order to reach another shore.
The end of the second confinement was a great pleasure because I visited Vexin français. It is still the most beautiful place in Île-de-France to me.
I wish I could better control my anxiety while fixing all the things related to my stay here. I wish I could be more patient and more quiet. Because I am doing everything depending on me and because the rest will be done somehow, without my intervention.
One week ago I defended my diploma. My studies are thus officially over. The defense procedure took place at Sorbonne, just in the middle of severe strike with heavy public transport disruptions. The procedure was hard, unfriendly, kind of a Kafkian process. The people engaged were rather from two different planets. One can merely imagine h o w  d i f f i c u l t life and studies can be for an ultimate foreigner in Paris.
I still haven’t any job. I’ve got only 35 euros earned yesterday cleaning a house of an AzerbaĂŻdjan family in Enghien-les-Bains, 15 minutes from Gare du Nord.
The good news is that my diploma is ready in several months and that I’ll be in a regular situation in a few days as I managed to visit Prefecture de Police these days. There’s also a chance to visit Kyiv and see my beloved.
I am an angry bird today. The representative of the Saudi family called me this morning again. Again, they propose me to give French lessons for 20 euros / 1,5h, or for 15 euros / 1h. So, once again, we’re at the beginning of our highly diplomatic dialogue.
For those who doesn’t know: in Paris, this is more or less what one can earn as a housecleaner. NOT as a professor speaking 5 languages and having his/her PhD degree.
And although I do need money at the moment and I love money, the principle is much more important: if there is no respect for the teacher’s work, adieu!
Burning from anger, I’ve made all the way back home by foot, from 2e to 19e arrondissement. The weather is changing all the time, and there are very few people outside.
During the last ten days I’ve met four families to talk about and probably to arrange babysitting. I’ve liked most the last one with three autonomous kids of 4, 6, 8 years old. Their mom had to present me to their school director yesterday, she could only wait for 10 minutes for me, but for the first time in my life my highly developed sense of space orientation was hacked, and I couldn’t find the school. Mme AC, instead of explaining how to find her said ”if you don’t come in a few seconds…”, ”i don’t know where you are…” etc., etc. Her voice was nervous and angry. She couldn’t wait, she had a meeting.
And that upset me. Instead of helping (in half an hour I finally found the school when it was too late, 30 minutes earlier I was just in a few steps from it), she was nearly shouting at me. I don’t want such families. I don’t want to have anything with people who are smiling now but the next moment are ready to reduce you to dust. This world is sick.
– Madam, I’m not your husband, I’m not your daughter to talk to me this way. I’m a stranger. When someone takes it out on a stranger, then the stranger automatically becomes your therapist. Just remember, his job costs money.
This evening we’ve come with my ex-coloc to the Refettorio de la Madeleine, but they haven’t let us in. “Are you tourists?” Hahaha… NO. We’re survivers in this wild, wild capitalist West. The entrance is only for the really poor people, for those with no house… You may buy a card, though, they tell us, it’s 5 euros. And there are lunches, you only pay 10 euros for your lunch if you’ve got this card.
I don’t feel time passing by when at my actual work place. I’m so get used to be exhausted that I’d rather work really hard, please gimme some work, I’m so a little bit bored!
These days trying to save or rather not to spend money at all as long as my closest further is not clear. So I am looking for the charity restaurants and other life hacks not to be hungry. With my ex-coloc we’ll try to have supper at the Foyer de la Madeleine tonight, they say it’s for 1 euro per person. I think that’s a reasonable price. I’ve just discovered the place online, it’s in the Crypt of the Madeleine Church and would like to become a volunteer cook or a waitress there. I’m empathetic to those who are in a precarious situation just like me or even worse.
I’ll share a recipy for those interested in how not to buy chocolate and still eat some sweat. You still have to buy something, but buying this will save you some money: