STRIKE!!!

The Paris transit system (RATP) decided to go on strike yesterday. Apparently this is a normal occurrence and simply part of French culture—like eating or having a total disregard for the concept of time—every so often, public sectors like to protest something by going on strike. And more often than not, it’s the RATP that volunteers to do the job. Why the postal service or some other government organization doesn’t strike instead is beyond me. About 10 years ago, RATP went on strike for 4 weeks! Who allows that to happen?? The MTA could never get away with that… welcome to France :o)

This time, the protest is against the new reforms Sarkozy is implementing for all gov’t employees. For years, they’ve been entitled to get a very generous pension and the expense has been crippling the French economy. Sarkozy decided to reduce the amount of money retirees receive in order to help alleviate the national debt and the unions are pissed (caveat: I got this information from my boss, who strikes me as a Sarkozy supporter, so I have a feeling I’m hearing the very conservative side of the argument. Anyway, that’s the gist).

So Wednesday night, I was having dinner at B’s house. I got a call from a friend saying that RATP decided to begin the strike at 8pm, which meant I couldn’t get home that night (yes, I spent the night. No, nothing happened… let’s stay focused, shall we?). So the next morning we walked to work together. Thankfully, B’s apartment is not out in the boondocks like mine is, so it took us about an hour to get to work (we stopped in a park to have coffee and croissants, otherwise it would have been a 30 minute walk). Traffic was insane, the few buses/trains that were running were packed, everyone was walking, rollerblading, biking, doing anything they could to get to their destinations. It was madness.

B told me if I could wait until he finished work at 6:30pm he would walk me home, but I wanted to leave at 3pm and had it in my head that I was a smart, independent city girl who could find my own way. I didn’t take into account that night was setting in, nor the fact that the streets in Paris make no sense—street signs may be completely missing or roads veer off in random directions with no warning… but I set out anyway, getting lost about 15 times. And I swear, if one more person said to me, "Porte de la Chapelle?! No! That's too far!", I was going to scream. An hour and a half later I was still about 45 minutes from home, it was pitch black out and the neighborhood I was entering started to get very sketchy… I was ready to cry and give up when I spotted a cab across the street—thank sweet Jesus! We sat in traffic for about 20 minutes, but half an hour later, I was home.

So this morning, after seeing 2 buses jammed with people pass by, I decided to try to walk the 2 hours to work. Fortunately, after about 5 minutes I found a cab (and nearly got run over by a scooter as I darted out in front of oncoming traffic to get it). Halfway to the office, my cabbie decides to try to squeeze around a large van. He can’t get through so he beeps his horn to make the driver move forward a bit. Instead, the driver accidentally reverses and crashes into the side of the cab. The cabbie jumps out of the car, screaming and cursing and banging on the driver’s window. An undercover cop comes over and tells the cabbie that it’s his fault for trying to squeeze through and that they both need to move their cars to the side of the road because they’re blocking traffic, then casually walks off (?). Meanwhile, the van guy is in the cabbie’s face, smiling and saying that it wasn’t his fault and tries to get back in his van and drive off. The cabbie is LIVID. He throws open the driver’s door and starts punching the guy in the face!! Lord knows where he got the balls, he seemed like such a nice old man. A couple of pedestrians come over to break it up and they call the police to settle the dispute and stood in front of the van so he couldn’t drive off.

Meanwhile, all I’m thinking is, “Shit, does this mean I have to get out and walk now?” Everyone knows the French police take forever to show up because they really don’t give a damn. Frankly, I think the cabbie should have just chalked it up as a loss and kept it moving. But he decided to wait for the police and told me to pay and get out. By this time, the meter had gone up from 10€ to 15€, which he tried to make me pay. I was like, “No, you’re getting 10€, and give me a receipt”. He all but snatched the money and threw the receipt at me. Luckily, we had stopped right in front of one of the only subway lines that’s still working and it was one that stopped 10 minutes from my office.

The strike is supposed to be over at 4pm today, but that’s up in the air, depending on whether or not the union and the French gov’t can reach an agreement.

It’s been just 24 hours and nothing but insanity in the streets of Paris… at the very least, I guess this means I’ll get more exercise!