It’s been nine months since I went to church. I go to the American Church in Paris, where they focus on loving people and helping out the community. Sermons are short, the music is good, and I do love me some good liberation theology.
Paris’ spring lockdown was harsh. We could go outside to buy groceries or to exercise one hour a day, within certain hours, within one kilometer from home. Parks were closed, loitering was forbidden. When the police stopped you, you had to show them your sworn attestation stating why you were out. The fine was €135.
However, it was easy compared to Columbia, where you got a 4-8 year prison sentence for being outside at the wrong time. And it was stricter than in the US. I saw you people on Facebook, out driving around, going to drive-in movies. Crossing bridges. Hiking.
Paris is pretty quiet right now. Only grocery stores and pharmacies are open. We are only allowed out for one hour per day for exercise, before 10 a.m. or after 7 p.m., and you have to take along a form you filled out with your info. There aren’t enough police on the streets to catch everybody, but there are enough to make you jumpy about breaking the rules.
You’d think getting burglarized in Paris would be glamorous, right? Or maybe it would be funny, like the policeman would be Inspector Clouseau? Nope. Getting burglarized in Paris is pretty much like getting burglarized anywhere else--a pain in the derrière.