I feared for my life

Yesterday was supposed to be a lazy day around the house for me. Angela and Susan went to Limoges to buy porcelain (and believe me, they did, as well as half of an old wine barrel). I woke up and decided I needed to book my flight to Dublin for the conference in June. I looked around and found the cheapest flight I could, but I had to get to Paris to go (it would cost like $450 to fly out of Lyon, and that's ridiculous). So my plan is to use Patrick or Susan's frequent traveler miles to take the train to Paris (they approved this idea). I booked my flight; it was an Air France flight that got me into Dublin around 10 pm the night before the conference and had me leaving in the late afternoon the day after the conference. The problem arose, however, that the plane gets into Paris too late to take a train, I would need a hotel, which would cost me an arm and a leg. So I called Air France to see if I could change to an earlier flight. I get the customer service agent and say, "Est-ce que vous parlez anglais?" (Do you speak English?), she says "Non" (No). So I busted out my French, and it worked. I understood everything she said, and she understood me. The most important fact, however, is that somehow my flight got booked through airfrance.de (that's Air France's website in Germany), and I had to talk to them about changing my ticket, so she gave me the phone number and I called them. This conversation went like this:

Agent: Guten tag (guttural sounds that indicated the man may have been killing a puppy).

Me: Guten tag, sprechen sie Englisch?

Agent: I do.

Me: Oh, thank god.

The good news is, because I had booked the flight less than an hour earlier they voided the whole thing without any charge, SCORE!

Later in the day Patrick and I decided to go to Olympique Lyonnais' final home game. OL as they are called have been doing decently this year (they are in third place, and if they stay there they qualify for the European Champions League), however, they were expected to do better. Many fans are angry about this, but when the French get angry it is a sight to behold. The OL fans blame the manager, Claude Puel. The game began and there were some organized chants and signs being held up asking for Puel to be fired, not too out of the ordinary.

Lyon was expected to win this game easily (they were playing Caen who is in 15th place). As the game continued and Lyon didn't score, the angry fans became angrier. What I witnessed is two things, 1) something one would never see in the United States, and 2) evidence of the stereotype of the French as being fantastic protesters. In the US if a team isn't doing well, the fans stop coming, write angry letters to the newspaper, maybe hold up signs or wear paper bags on their heads at games, pretty mundane stuff.

In France if a team isn't doing well, they begin with the signs. These signs slowly morph into chants. These chants morph into lighting fires in the stands and throwing burning road flares at the field, security, players, etc. At one point smoke billowed across the field and I counted 3 fires burning in various parts of the stands. I am not exaggerating, I actually feared for my life at multiple times during this game and after. I had always thought that if I was going to die at a sporting even it would either be while I was dressed in Mets gear in Philadelphia or if I ever had the opportunity to be at a championship game that any Detroit team wins.

As the game continued OL looked worse and worse, and the fans got rowdier and rowdier (I also have to add, there is very little alcohol sold at these games, these people were doing this whilst sober). The game ended in a 0-0 tie and I turned to Patrick and said, we should leave, NOW!

We left the stadium and moved towards the Metro stop. Near the Metro stop there was a bit of a protest/riot occurring. At least one fire had been set, people were setting of large firecrackers and the police in full riot gear were arriving. One cop slowly strolled up to the riot with two giant guns, one looked like a FAMAS assault rifle, the other looked like it shot either tear gas or beanbags. We quickly entered the Metro and got home. I will reiterate, I actually did think there was a chance I would get killed or seriously injured at more than one point in this game. That being said, it was a blast, like nothing I have ever seen before.

Also, I must add, that the majority of the people at the game were not protesting. They were there to watch the game and enjoy themselves. Overall, I find the French to be a fantastic and friendly people who abhor violence.