The Parisian Musical Genius

It was a Parisian adventure. A few of my friends and I embarked on a weekend trip to Paris, France. I, for one, was extremely excited since Paris had always been the city, besides London, that I desired to visit. What was I expecting from this gorgeously known city of fashion economies and fabulous eating extravagances? Well, the Eiffel Tower for one, an escargot soirée, Notre Dame, the Champs Elysee, perhaps even Quasimodo within the mix. However, was I expecting some type of a performance from the deep beyond of Parisian culture, and inside the metro? I must say, no, not really.

As my friends and I began our metro journey into the Parisian nightlife, first stop: the Eiffel Tower, we would have never come into the rational conclusion of what was going to take place next. So, we get onto the metro train, and it begins to move. All of us are quite lucky to have found an empty seat in such a crowded train. I guess everyone was going out, as it was a Friday night. However, let me get down to what I found seemingly astonishing about this train ride. So my friends and I were all seated near the trains doors, and just as we were about to begin a conversation, the music began to play. The individual who I thought was a regular bystander on a train, turned out to be a performer. This middle-aged fella pulled out his guitar, and began to play the classical European tunes. I could not help but shimmy to every tune he was performing, but then I have the talent and natural instinct of shimmying or bobbing my head to any beat I hear. I just feel it! Wait, so am I performer? I do not know, but let me get back into the purpose of this written blog. The man was an excellent performer! He made eye-contact with the audience, he paraded himself down the aisle, and his voice was dramatically projected. A good performer in my opinion is one who has the ability to engage his audience into his practice and also one that drastically uses his space, and he did just that. Let me also add that he sang, one of my grandmother and mother’s favorite tunes. I do not know the name of it, but it goes a little something like this: “cantare..ohhh..ohhh…bailareee..ohhhh..ohhhh..ohhhh”. I do not quite know the exact words of the reminiscing tune, but I sure do come close to it. I could not help but get jiggy with it! The song reminded me too much of home, and my families little holiday parties. In the mix, I also noticed one my friends getting her groove on as well, clapping her hands to his beats, and all that other good stuff. She liked him too!

I was not expecting this particular situation on the metro. Although I did see this type of activity on the underground train in Rome, I still did not expect this type of review on an ordinary day. The Parisian natives’ performance was one that seriously got me into the groove. I should have tipped him.        

       Yaheema Alfonso