Newsletter Thursday, November 21

When the announcement came that the Summer Olympics would be held in Paris in 2024, I was psyched. I’m an American but live in the Marais district of Paris with my French partner, Benjamin.

Benjamin’s reaction was quite contrary to mine. He was eager to make arrangements to get out of Paris as fast as possible for as long as possible. It would be summer, after all, and everyone who is anyone leaves Paris for most of July and all of August.

I was disappointed, though I dared not say so. Benjamin is romantic and handsome and many other things, but I’ve learned by now that the first answer with him is always “no.” I believe this is part of the French culture; it’s seen as “gauche” to be too enthusiastic.

Benjamin and his friends grumbled about the Metro fare doubling during the Olympics — not to mention the crowds, street closures, and the high cost of event tickets.

Maybe we could volunteer, I suggested. “It’ll be free,” I chirped. “Oh non non non non,” he shook his head.

But he changed his tune once he realized how great the Olympics truly are.

At first, I struggled to get tickets

I found out you couldn’t just go out and buy a ticket; you had to enter a lottery. If you were chosen, you’d be given a time slot and could shop for a ticket, depending on what was left when your time slot was called.

I found it complex and confusing, and I just didn’t have time to sort through it all. I wasn’t alone in that. Le Monde reported that “almost all of the 350 or so people who responded to Le Monde’s call to share their Olympic ticket experience described their ‘immense disappointment.'”

“It’s for the rich,” Benjamin said. This chaffed my “can-do” American spirit to the core.

Then, a girlfriend asked if I might want to go to Olympic Archery for my birthday on July 31st. The tickets were only €100. How was this possible? The rumor was that the luxury packages at high prices were not selling and now the tickets from those packages were being re-released.

I told Benjamin and asked if he’d want to go. Still no. Would he mind if I went with my friends? No problem. So my girlfriend booked the tickets. I was going to the Olympics!

My French husband then decided to check out the games

About a week ago, I reminded Benjamin about it, and he sounded sad. “You said you didn’t want to come,” I told him.

“It’s once in a lifetime,” he said.

Being in an intercultural relationship teaches you patience, understanding, and valuable negotiation skills. I’ve learned to slow down and enjoy life. “Savoir vivre,” Benjamin calls it.

So, instead of belaboring his unbelievable change of tune, I got online, and for €200 each, I got us two tickets to the Athletics competition on August 6th with a medal ceremony.

“C’est un rêve,” he said, his blue eyes smiling. It’s a dream.

I have a feeling there will be lots of last-minute purchases now that we can just go online, search, and buy. It’s simple, easy, no fuss, but, you know, chic.



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