Patience

n. – patience
Patience is not only a virtue, but a necessity when living in Paris. Take my carte sejour, for example. I finally had my medical exam on Monday, which was supposed to be the final element among the requirements. It took half the day, which I had been prepared for, but when it was over I still didn’t get the card. “C’est prêt mais pas encore envoyé,” it’s ready, but hasn’t been sent yet, was the explanation I received. I’ve already been here for seven months. The card is good for one year. At this rate, it will expire before I even have it.

On the way home, I stopped at the pharmacy. There is always a line at the pharmacy, any pharmacy, any time of day or night. I love French pharmacies though. They’re smaller than the giant drugstores we’re used to in the US and filled with lovely things. Even the packaging for things like aspirin or vitamins seems nicer here. It’s difficult to browse in a pharmacy though because of its small size. It’s assumed you know exactly what you want when you enter, so if you’re not standing in the line, people will come over to you and ask if you need help. It seems silly to say no, I’m just looking – at toothpaste.

In almost any store except the supermarket perhaps, it’s helpful to know what you want and if you have questions you must be prepared for detailed explanations. Not long ago, my husband was looking innocently for mache, a lovely lettuce alternative here that looks like giant watercress. He received an education on the seasonality of mache – early spring being the expiration date so an alternative was suggested. I recently learned that geraniums seem to be on the seasonal brink of extinction as well. This is unfortunate because I was told that they are good at warding off mosquitoes, which have been plaguing us for the last few months.

I did find something at the pharmacy that’s supposed to help, a mini oil lamp of sorts. It’s actually a small diffuser you plug into the wall at night. So far I don’t think it’s done any good just like the citronella candles. And now that I’ve discovered the geranium solution, there aren’t any to be found. Of course screens on the window would be out of the question. Even I would hate to put anything between me and my beautiful view of the Paris rooftops. If I can’t get rid of the bugs, maybe I can find something at the pharmacy that will heal the itch. In any event, it’s a good excuse to go back in and take a look around.