Are We But Sunday Christians?

This was the thought running in my head as I left church last Sunday.

When I look at the people inside the church looking all kind and holy, praying, singing to God, listening to the priest, saying "peace be with you," I can't help asking, where are these kind souls during the rest of the week? I don't see many of them during the rest of the week especially in crowded trains, or out on the streets in heavy traffic.

In these places, most of the people I see are grumbling, complaining and trying to get ahead of the others. 

Do we forget that we are children of God as soon as we are out of the church? That we are equals and not any better than the rest? That we ought to be nice to one another? And so, we are back in our ways - honking the car when someone blocks our way, pushing and shoving to get in the train?

And simple courtesies like greeting back the security guard welcoming us in the mall, looking at the face of a saleslady and replying a polite "no" if  she offers us something we're not interested in, thanking a fast food crew or a waiter for a glass of water served? 

Where are these good people? Do we transform to other beings when somewhere else or on other days, forgetting our manners?

Then it hit me, before I impose these things on others, I HAVE TO BE ONE. I have to be the one doing good, showing niceties and courtesies. If I don't get to change others, at least, I GOT TO CHANGE ME. 

Welcome to Paris!

Tour Eiffel

I've heard a lot of stories about the City of Lights! Some friends say, it's a magical place. Some say, so-so, nothing special, overrated. Some even warned me to be careful of pickpockets and especially because I was going alone, I would be an easy target. Huwatt??!!


Not only that.  a week before my flight to the City of Love, there was a terror attack wherein 12 people died at the Charlie Ebno magazine office.


I said to myself, the City of Lights is big. What are the chances that it's near where I'm staying at? Well, apparently, it was around Republique, about 5-minute walk to the apartment I reserved.


With my plane tickets and  Airbnb accommodation booked,  I chose to brave the city. I reasoned, the police will surely be on a heightened alert to prevent another attack. And the good thing, maybe the pickpockets will lie low because of police visibility.

Bridge over River Seine

Good thing that a few days before flying to Paris, I met up with my old  friend Joel  who loves the city with a capital L! And who's been planning to go back again since the time he visited in October. Did I say he loves Paris?


We met at a Parisian cafe called Paul, his choice, where I had macarons and tea, a prelude to what's in store for me at the City of Lights. He told me wonderful stories of his visit (on top of what he already long-messaged me on FB; thrice), where he went, what he ate, where he stayed. And I was charmed and it brought back my excitement to see this famed city.


I was so excited when I finally got to the airport as I kissed my sister and Dubai adieu. (I visited her; supposedly with my parents. But they couldn't fly with me so I went ahead. They followed after a month.)

But, the staff at the counter advised that the flight to Istanbul (for the connecting flight) was delayed by 2 hours or so. I got up so early only to be held up in the airport! Two words -- budget airline!

Anywho, I entertained myself by tinkering with my new Iphone (my sister's gift) while at the airport. Because the plane was delayed, I didn't make it to my connecting flight to Paris in time.

Arc de Triomphe

I had to kill time again in the cold Turkish city. As in snow cold. My first time to see actual snow, on the ground, piles of it.

When we boarded the plane, we had to take a bus, which us to the plane, which meant I was exposed outside the airport building and actually felt the harsh wind and cold, cold snow. Climbing up the stairs to the plane, I wanted to push everybody in front of me to get in right away. But alas, I was at the end. The last one to get in!

If it weren't for the delays, I would have been in my dream city by 130 pm. But I ended up arriving at 630 pm. That's half a day for touring gone. Sigh.

When the plane landed at Charles de Gaulle airport and we got out of the tube, we were greeted by policemen to check our passports. It was barely a week after the terror attack so it's understandable that the airport was manned by the police and military to replace immigration officers. I should point out though that the policeman who checked my passport was a tall and handsome chap.

When I scanned the airport and later the city, I noticed Parisian girls are lucky, they have a goodlooking police force. These are the times I say to myself, life is not fair!

I got out of CDG airport past 7pm. I took the metro, arrived at Goncourt station and walked a bit to the apartment. Welcome to Paris!

So this is the Eiffel Tower.