Mexicana En Paris

A few years ago, sitting at the dining table in Budapest, my neighbor's family asked me why I was studying Spanish, too. French they understood, and it's such a beautiful language. But what good would Spanish do? Wasn't German the more obvious choice? What's funny is that though they knew I had Hispanic heritage, it never occurred to them that so did the majority of the population in North and South American combined. Europe is far from the Americas. That may be an obvious statement but I even mean it in the sense that Latin America is far beyond the realm of thought and consideration of many Europeans. For instance, moments after I proposed a Cinco de Mayo picnic on Canal Saint-Martin, my German boyfriend asked what the date was. Ignorant or not, Americans still tend to "celebrate" the holiday. Maybe the French are still bitter?
I'm mostly kidding. In the end, I think the real excuse for a celebration-less Paris is that France is frankly just far from Mexico. I'm glad it didn't keep him and I from enjoying cervezas and tacos from El Nopal. They were delicious, the weather was perfect, and the canal was buzzing with life last Sunday. Happy Cinco de Mayo, indeed. And in totally unrelated news, I got the Paris-based, 6-month internship I'd hoped I would!