Before my father’s death three years ago, I didn’t ‘celebrate’ Día De Los Muertos. I didn’t know enough about it as my family didn’t build altars or gave much of a second thought to it growing up. There was a period in my life where I was ashamed of my heritage. Sometimes those phrases and stereotypes that permeate the airwaves do get to people like me, who are too American when I visit México and too Mexican as an American.
Initially, I was supposed to head down south to Toulouse to see some friends. When that fell through, as in I never received a response to confirm, I was looking for another place to visit for a few days that was still close enough to Paris since I was set to depart from Charles De Gaulle. In just a matter of days, the Thalys train ticket was at about €100 (approximately $ 117 USD) one-way. This was a no-brainer. I needed a cheap ticket out of Paris.
I’m here, but I’m not really here. I chose this borough or arrondissement due to its proximity to the Père Lachaise Cemetary. Yes, it’s a bit away from the postcard Paris, but that’s exactly why you need to be here.
Omg, I’m leaving tomorrow. It finally hit me today when I was going over my packing list and getting rid of anything I deemed unnecessary. “How did those get in there?”
I’ve paid $8 for three oysters. THREE OYSTERS!! So when I saw a dozen for $17.95, it was a no-brainer. Cloudy? Smells funky? You’ve got bad oysters. RUN!
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