auto. #4

Rosie Caldwell
Professor M. Boland
English 329
10 February 2009

Autobiography #5
Empowerment of Language

I was 17 or so when I went to Paris with my mother and grandmother. I was old enough to not get swept away by tall, dark and handsome Parisian men, but I was young enough to still be tempted. Paris really is the city of love. If you did not find romance around every corner, you found beauty. The architecture was absolutely breathtaking. The Eiffel Tower at night is something that will be embedded into my memories forever. Watching the lights race down the massive beams and scattered across the metal surface, I gazed with awe at the glittering structure. Everything around me seemed quiet and still. Like everything was focused on that one moment. I wrapped my arms around my shivers and remained speechless, standing beneath the massive Eiffel tower. I heard a voice in the distance, and it took me a while to figure out that it was addressed to me. When I brought my eyes down from the glittering show of lights I found myself looking at two handsome men. One of them was addressed me in French, and seemed excited. At that moment I really wished that I spoke French. Looking from under my lashes I gave him a soft “No Frances.” This brought a broad smile from the man who had been talking to me. With a thick French accent we pushed our way through a conversation. His name was Maurice and his friend was David. With his terrible English he asked who came with and where I was from. Then, with distinct clarity he said, “you are, how you say? A beautiful woman.” Oh, the way he enunciated ‘beautiful’… I can’t describe the feeling it gave me. After telling him I could not go for café with him that night, he looked up at the Eiffel Tower and moved in closer to me. The lights glistened across his grey eyes, and then he turned to face me. “Ah, gooobuuykizzz?” After a few ‘huh’s and gooodbuuykizzz’s’ I then understood what he was getting at. Without consent I felt arms surround me and I was dipped down like a romantic tango move. Nice cologne and a hint of cigarette smoke washed over my uncontrollable smile. His cheeks were rough as he placed a soft kiss on the corner of my mouth. Underneath the light of the Eiffel Tower I found myself wrapped up in the arms of a handsome stranger.
I felt empowered by my quiet “no Frances” and our simple conversation. We were two strangers with different languages still communicating and enjoying a night under the Eiffel Tower together. That night I knew what it was like to be encompassed by an experience, structured by a desire and genuine effort to communicate. I still remember that night, and since then I have taken a French class. But more importantly, I discovered that language does not need to be fluent, eloquent or witty to be effective. Moments can be shared through clouded communication and those moments are no less meaningful or memorable.