story

Story time.

Who is this man? 
Why are his clothes on backwards?
And what is he writing?

This man is my friend Khalid. It was his birthday, 2007, in Clermont-Ferrand, France. 

Khalid at this time was a well-loved socialite who hung out frequently at the corner cafe / bar and would talk with anyone. One of the funny things I remember him saying after I said "merci beaucoup" was "de rien beaucoup" - which is total nonsense to a native French speaker, but funny and silly between us non-native speakers.

Apprentice to magic. Artist and aspiring maker. Building a scholarship nonprofit to send kids abroad. https://atlastravelfoundation.org/

Almost everyone had been sipping drinks at the cafe, and let's just say Khalid was well-hydrated at this point. 

As soon as we parked the car at Parc Montjuzet, Khalid hops out and tells everyone to wait. He proceeds to write "Revolution, ALS" - all while wearing his clothes backwards. 

After that, the party could begin!

The road was blocked off so we all hiked up the hill together. 

It was a great big crowd of revelers - almost everyone we knew from the dorms was there, and lots of new folks to meet and mingle with. Despite the music and excitement of the beginning of the party, there was a lull in the volume as nearly everyone lit up their joints.

We ended up staying awake all night that night for "un nuit blanche" just chatting and visiting with everyone. The next morning, after we all worked together to clean up our beloved park, one of our new French friends took us on a walk to show us something. Finally we get to the city limits and the start of the next village. "Now you have seen Auvergne" he told us. Groan! Great. We were still drunk from the night before and had just walked an hour in the wrong direction.

He was very involved in the local Auvergne Libre Socialistes and even ran for local office. (Auvergne is the greater region of which Clermont-Ferrand is the major city.)

Anyway, he and his friends put together a huge birthday party where just about everyone he knew could attend. It would be at Parc Montjuzet, the huge green space on a hill on the edge of town. We all met up at the cafe, squeezed into cars, and drove to the park. In the car ride there his friends showed me a shoebox. Inside were 75 joints and three giant blunts. It was actually a joint birthday party - Khalid and two friends, so they would get the blunts, and the joints were party gifts for all the guests.