Thursday, 4pm: a metro car packed full of zombied urbanites yawning in unison. Menacing clouds hang heavily above ground, weighing not only on my mood, it would seem, but on everyone else’s around me. One more work day before families gather for a three day weekend for Pâques. Judging by our faces, it’s clear we all need this Easter break.
When I think of Easter, I imagine lush suburban yards accentuated with spring’s vibrant blooms and nattily dressed children running about blithely trawling for painted eggs and chocolate bunnies. Doesn’t the holiday evoke such a Hallmark scene for all Jews? Maybe just me. Unfortunately for all, there will be no such blooms or children frolicking in spring attire this holiday weekend because true Parisian weather has returned, gray and grim.
Predicting this was to come, we took advantage of the week’s last bit of blue skies and spent the day neighborhood-hopping before parking ourselves under the sun in Luxembourg Gardens. After a blissful twenty minutes of lounging with our heads back and eyes closed, we were roused by the sound of incessant giggling from the group of Japanese students seated next to us. Just as we turned our heads, we see a giant…
