New Years Eve, the one evening of the year filled with the biggest let downs in history. Let’s be honest, most people attempt to make this the most epic night out, most people my age anyways. In my experience, it is simply never the case- this is the night when you plan things to go perfectly and they all go wrong. I have learned to have absolutely no expectations for New Years whatsoever. Especially after having a Christmas vacation in Berlin, far away from close friends and family, where most things planned perfectly went awry. So New Years Eve I slept in and took most of the day easy, not deciding on official plans until very late in the afternoon. I was going to a fellow au pair’s new flat to have some champagne and snacks and at midnight we would all go to the Eiffel Tower to watch it sparkle to bring in the New Year. Simple enough plan, right?
Wrong! Our biggest mistake of the evening was leaving the tranquility of the flat. I was with 3 other au pairs, all very lovely girls. After a little wine, a little champagne and lots of goodies it was already 11pm and time to go. We headed out to the train station which would take us into the city where we had to transfer to a main metro line to get to the Eiffel Tower. I had heard the Champs Elysees was the crazy, crowed place to be on New Years, so I figured- Trocadero will be perfect! We transferred at St. Lazarre to metro line 9, at a running pace, champions in high heels. Simply from the conduct of the men, nay, boys we encountered running down to that metro- we should have heed warning. As we approached the platform all seemed normal, and then the train pulled up. It was far more packed than I have ever seen it, even compared to rush hour on line 1. It seemed impossible to board but we were determined. We jumped and we squished, much to the dismay of other passengers. Two of the girls were actually pushed off, but two of us stayed on and held firm. The metro doors closed and we were packed, I can’t even say like sardines, more like condensed tuna in a can. The air was hot with body heat and we were sweating within minutes. My only comfort would be a breath of fresh air at the next stop when the doors would open, only 5 more stops until Trocadero! Unfortunately, at the next stop the train sat for quite some time, enough for a few passengers to abandon ship and others to hop and squash aboard.
Since we were at a standstill, I thought it would be a good opportunity to snap some photos to illustrate the density we were dealing with (dare I say, due to my recent Berlin visit, I momentarily considered the concentration camp prisoners jammed onto darker and even smaller cars in similar numbers). The flash of my camera attracted the attention of some passengers looking to cause trouble. One argued with me, shouting, that he did not want his picture taken. I assured him he was not in the photo but, my simple acknowledgement gave him the window he needed to harass me for about ten minutes. Him and his friend hollered and flicked my hair trying to get my attention, to get some sort of reaction until the train started moving again; luckily I am too wise for these no gooders! They belong to a certain culture of guys who harass women just for fun, I cannot comprehend what high they get from it but if you even give them one speck of interaction, they take it as an invitation the abuse you (verbally, physically, depends on how you react). Finally the doors closed and the metro was under way once more; four more stops, three more stops…suddenly some guy asks pardon and tries squeezing past me. I look behind and the two guys who had been pestering me had begun tussling. The man, who I thought pushed past to intervene, spun things into a horrendous scene. The sea of people was parted as punches began being thrown. The train became a boxing ring where bystanders were sure to be swung at or looked on entirely un-amused. I backed away, grabbing my friend who was right in the center of it all, luckily a kind gentlemen gave us the corner to huddle in until it was all over. At the next stop, two of the trouble makers were ejected from the train, bloody noses and all. I stood in shock and disgust as that was the closest I have come to witnessing such brutality. Two stops to go!
The Trocadero platform came into sight but it was just as crazy and crowded as the metro! We were pushed and marched out like cattle, past guards and police directing us to one or two open sorties. The behavior of the nasty boys was consistent the entire march up and out of the metro. It seemed I could not look any one direction without a wink, remark, or grab from these disgusting beings. Luckily we were able to meet up with another au pair friend and her boyfriend near a carousel to await the others. Once near a French male we were protected from at least a portion of the predators. Oh yes, I also forgot to mention, by this time it was well past midnight- which we had “celebrated” on the train. Like I said, I had given up all expectations, so I was utterly unaffected by this. So alas, we are at the Eiffel Tower simply waiting for the crowd to disperse a bit, midnight was over so why would everyone stick around. Well for the 1 am sparkle! Just like we were hoping for of course! Besides, 1 am is the best sparkle of all!
The area we were waiting in was a complete disaster, although midnight had past, the masses remained, as did the trash and bottles. Soon we had evacuate the carousel area due to a vomiting passenger on the immobile craft (someone couldn’t handle the party). We attempted to move closer to the tower but right as we reached the lower level, smashing glass was heard! I felt shattered class hitting my barely protected legs; these same hoodlum guys thought it genius to pick up and destroy all of the left-behind bottles, along with shooting fireworks into the crowd. We had to retreat to higher ground and would have left all together but, it was nearly 1 am and we were still missing a girl! We stood on edge as fireworks and bottles exploded all round until, finally, the yellow lights of the tower went out and the brilliant white glimmer could be seen along the black beams of the tower, all against the dark blue sky. For a moment I was able to forget the insanity and remember how much I loved this feeling, this view, and this moment. Just as quickly as I lost myself, I was brought back to reality as onlookers cheered, lit up sparklers and we had to focus on the safety of our group once more. It was clear it was time to go once the radiance of the tower shut off. We found a not too busy street, bought a couple of beers, took a deep breath and eventually found our long lost friend who had been traumatized on the metro. The rest of the night turned into a blur of wandering the crowded streets looking for a quiet bar and after no success, calling defeat. After literally hours of walking, standing and trying to flag down taxies, the last of us trumped down to the bowls of the metro, now feeling like the pits of despair, to catch the RER home. My walk home from the train station was the longest stretch of all.
I was home by 5am, soaking wet feet, and simply exhausted. By the time I fell asleep I was merely minutes away from being able to watch the ball drop in NYC. I made an attempt to watch a replay of it the next day but it was too painful, New Years Eve was over and I was happy to forget it. Although this is a very sad tale, does it mean I had a bitter start to the New Year, to 2012? Absolutely not! I did fear for my life, and I was not among the people I know and love the most but, it was my first New Year’s celebration in a big city, most likely my last, and we can check it off of the list. I had a very eventful 2011, filled with ups and downs, successes and failures, joys and heartbreak. Therefore, the summary of this year does not depend on the one night signifying its finale. I have many more months left here in France and so many more obstacles to overcome, so I say, bring it 2012! Happy New Year everyone! And why not- go out and do something crazy!
Aucun commentaire:
Enregistrer un commentaire