Une carcassonnaise???

Last night the wind rose. Shutters banged against the wall of a building down the street. It reminded me so much of the scenes in the movie Chocolat--when the urge to move on overtook the heroine, Vianne.  There was some magic in the wind last night, I know it.

Okay, I have been a touiste long enough....time to get serious about being here. I think that people who live in Carcassonne are called carcassonnaises....I would be une carcassonnaise...because today--ta dah--I got my library card!!

I took myself off to the tourist infomation center, but not to ask the standard questions--where to eat, how to get to the cite, where to I catch the boat for the canal cruise...shoot--I figured all of THAT out myself. 

No-I went in armed with several questions.  I wanted a map of the bus routes, which my downstairs neighbor said was impossible to obtain.  He obviously never talked his way into a French bureau after arriving two hours late for an appointment. I came away with the map; getting it wasn't even a blip on the experience radar.

The next thing I wanted was the location of a Protestant church.  Catholic churches abound here, and I could of course, always attend one of them, but I wanted a Protestant experience this trip. Besides, in this town, with the history of the Inquisition exterminating the Cathars, I am not inclined to patronize their churches.  I also asked for the location of the library.  Done, easy as pie.  And finally I asked where I might find contact information for a choir, because I wanted to sing.  They gave me a list of every activity, civic group, club, what have you, in Carcassonne.  I now know who to call if I would like to go hunting or if I would like to go parachuting.  And there are about five choirs listed, so I should be able to find somewhere to sing.

I apologized for asking unusual questions, and she replied, "Pas le pire." Not the worst!

As it turns out, the library is just a short walk from the apartment. And it is quite small. Downstairs, when I entered, I asked if I would be permitted to check out books. After learning about the paperwork-identity requirements, I finally had to ask, "Mais ou sont les livres?" But where are the books? One guy looked at me and said, "Il n'y a plus de livres!"  (There ARE no more books) I pretended to be aghast, until I got upstairs. Their collection is so, so small. 

I browsed through some of their local history and geography books, then took a seat at one of the many tables lined up along a bank of windows.  I have finally found a haven to which I can escape when the noise from the crying-screaming brat across the street becomes intolerable. I wrote for a while, and then, when the librarian came back to her desk, I approached her and told her my plight. I was just learning French and wanted to read, but not something so difficult that I would have to look up every word. I asked if perhaps she had something not too difficult. But nothing for les bebes, either.

She replied that it might be hard to find a book for me, since this is an adult library, but she had something in mind.  She handed me two volumes, apologizing that they were for adolescents and were not good literature! I replied that as long as there were no vampires in the story, I would be good. I just want something to help me improve.  I don't mind reading with my dictionary at hand, but I don't want to have to look up every other word.  Then, when I asked her if she would reserve them until tomorrow, when I would return with my lease, she told me she would make my card right now.  I could bring in the rest of the needed documentation upon my next visit.  What nice, helpful people I have encountered since I have been here. 

I cannot describe the thrill I experienced when she presented my with my library card.  In my mind, I have crossed some kind of divide.  I am sure that I will continue to visit and discover places in the area, but for now, for just a little, I belong.