take it easy, love nothing.

so basically heres the deal.  im sitting here i just realized that the reason why my house smells is because sally has been putting trash into the trash can (that I never use) without telling me or without taking the trash out.  SO, there's trash in the trash can from god knows when, and i've been wondering why my house smells like, excuse my french, shit, and now I know.  because apparently my sister is the idiot who doesnt take the trash out.  

i mean, i wonder if she even thought about it when she was putting trash into it, like, "hmmm. should i take the trash out?  i put that sorbet container into there a while ago.  is this sanitary?  it looks questionable to me."  

good job, sally.  the trash can has got to go bye bye.  

also, just now I saw a moth fly into my house, and i was like, oh jeez, now i have to get up and kill it but I just sat there and watched it fly into ceiling light.  then i heard a few zap snap baps, and wouldn't you know it, smoke started to rise up and then stop.  that moth had to go bye bye.  

the point of this blogpost was not intended for such purposes as talking about the trash or the moth.  actually, i had a clear cut intention for this post.  i was going to come, see and conquer.  i guess i'll just start now.  then i'm going to have to go bye bye.  im so tired tonight, jeez.

Today I was meeting Marion at Place Monge to have lunch, and I got there super early for some reason.  SUPER EARLY.  But right when I stepped out of the metro, I noticed that there were wayyy too many people around there for it to be a normal day, and all of those people were coincidentally walking in the direction of the mosque.  So Ranna's curiosity blinker went off.  Blink.  Blink.  Blink.  Hmmm...I wonder what's going on?  As I started to walk towards the mosque I noticed police vans lining the smaller streets.  My heart started racing, "cool," i thought, "something really exciting is going on!"  

The outside of the mosque was crowded with groups of people standing and talking.  Around the area, journalists were standing with their cameras, smoking cigarettes, checking their portables, waiting for something to happen.  They looked bored.  Police were standing there on guard, with their shields and batons at the ready.  

If you ask me, they just like waving those things around...

Every so often, a man wearing a swanky suit, mixed deep within the crowd, would have an orange armband with black text, "SÉCURITÉ."  Security?  Police?  Reporters?  Yessss, I really hit the jackpot this time.

I took out my camera and started to take pictures of nothing in particular (i'll upload some right as soon as I empty some files into my hard drive to create some more memory on my computer.  I thought Macs weren't supposed to have this problem).  I mean, I didn't even know what was going on to have a purpose with my pictures.  All of a sudden this pimply, too skinny for his own good, punk came up to me, right up to me, too close for comfort if you really want to know my opinion, and said, "hey, hey, vous etes une journaliste?"  

No, no.  Not a journalist.  And then I started to completely lie to him for some reason.  I made up this elaborate story that I don't really feel like repeating since it was just...haha, lets just say, I have absolutely no idea why I couldn't have been like, no I'm a tourist.  

And then "Mr. I think I'm way more important than I actually am," was like, "ok, ok" and walked away.  

He went back to his friends who asked him if I was a journalist and when he shook his head they asked why I was taking pictures, and he was like, haha, "I don't know, I stopped listening." 

hahaha, I laughed.

Finally, I grew a pair and asked the people nearest to where I was standing what was going on.  I chose the wrong crowd.  Our conversation went as follows (in translation): 

Ranna: Do you guys know what's going on here?

Arab guy #1: Hey, where are you from? 

Ranna: the US.  What's going on here? 

Arab guy #1: Ohhhh Obama! Yassine, come here, she's American. 

Yassine: Hey, cool, you're American!  Obama! 

Ranna:  So, what's going on here?

Yassine: The police hate the Arabs. 

Ranna: No.  Why are the police even here?  What's going on at the mosque?

Arab guy # 1: We're just praying. 

Ranna: It's not like this every friday. 

Yassine: Hey, Faudel, come here, this girls American.  Yeah, it's not like this every friday, but today is a special prayer. 

Ranna: So why is there so much security? 

Yassine:  There are people here who don't like each other.

Ranna: What do you mean?  Who?  

Yassine: Different groups.  Hey, what's your name?  

Ranna: It's not important, which groups? 

Faudel: Don't tell her anything until she tells you her name.  

Ranna: OK.  Thanks guys, see you later.  

Yassine: No no.  The Algerians and the Moroccans.  

Ranna: The Algerians and the Morccans don't like each other?  Since when??? 

Faudel: We're not telling you anymore.  Whats you name?

Ranna: Salma.  Since when? 

Faudel: Salma?  How old are you?  

Ranna:  Why is this important?  Since when?

And then....I guess while we were having this delightful conversation, this news correspondent was reporting on the situation and saying things that didn't tend well with the people around him.  So, out of the blue, people start yelling at each other and screaming at the reporter, who is just standing there like, "what just happened?"  And in the middle of it all, one of the old homeless women who stands in front of the mosque begging usually, stood up and started yelling at the reporter too.  It was probably one of the funniest things I've ever seen.  So, the men pushed the reporter out of town while the police stood there, picked their noses and looked on.  

I took that chance to escape my enlightened group of boys, and went up to this older man standing there and asked him what was going on. 

Well, apparently, the head of the mosque right now is a Moroccan man, BUT, this mosque is state-run and state-sponsored, so the government is replacing him with a new man, however, this one happens to be Algerian.  And it's causing a lot of problems, because the Moroccans want a Moroccan to stay in power, while the Algerians want one of their own.  

And that, ladies and gentlemen, was what was going on. 

So, let me get this straight.  These muslims, not only do they fight between their different sects, when it comes down to it, it becomes a cultural struggle as well?  Let me get this straight, these Arabs that come into France, not only are they barred from their French community, but they have created hostile communities between each other as well?  Let me get this straight, ya'll are standing here fighting because the head of the mosque is changing?  What happened to your "God?"  Isn't he really the head of it all?  Where does he fit in, in this little game you're playing?  

Shoot, they just can't seem to get it right, can they?  

Baba, take it eassyyy.