This morning as I was serenely sipping a hot beverage and looking at the sea - and not the ocean, as someone accurately pointed out to me this week - I heard the sound of a hundred young voices screaming. At first I thought it was a race, since I have seen a few going past the beach and by the ocean drive. But there was no crowd on the beach, on the contrary, I saw people at their windows and balconies in the building across from mine and I knew it was the Lycee, or high school, located near my building. The voices grew louder, I still thought it was a sporting event, until I heard "Mort a ..." or "Death to ..." Yikes. The transport system coming to a halt for the fourth time (or was it fifth) in the two months I've been back in France is one thing, but kids screaming for the death of god knows who (probably Sarkozy) made me a little more than annoyed. I suddenly had images of Bastille Day revolutionaries brandishing long forks (what are thise things called, like in "American Gothic") - right, pitch forks... I got a little paranoid and for a split second considered not going to class. Fortunately when I left the building the kids were still gathered half a block away, wich gave me the opportunity to get on the first bus going downtown... I was still five minutes late for class, and when I explained to my teacher that I almost got lynched, she didn't believe me!
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