Spent Monday going to three churches and three museums. Almost got kissed by a museum security person I thought was just being friendly. (It's not going to happen, old man, even if you were half your age and twice as good-looking.) All the history and art that I took in that day were eclipsed by that incident. I can just laugh about it now.
The following morning, I left on the 6:51am train back to Gare de Lyon. While waiting for the airport bus, a black man approached me.
"Manille?" he asked.
"Oui," I said. He shook my hand. I noticed that the whites of his eyes were very yellow. Thoughts raced through my head. Will he ask me to bring something to Manila for him? Is he trying to con me? He said that his friend was from Manila and had a tall son named Felipe who is now in England. I didn't know how to respond. My face must have been blank.
He took a step back, then wished me bon journee. I felt guilty for thinking as I did. "Merci beaucoup," I replied.
I hope he saw that I smiled.
For a closer look at the photos, see my Flickr page.
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