City of Nights in the City of Lights
Paris Kiosque - May 1998 - Volume 5, Number 5
Copyright (c) 1998 Jenna Castrogiovanni - used with permission
It is a beautiful sunny September afternoon and I have
only been in Paris for about 48 hours. As I soak up the suns rays and
admire the beauty of the "City of Lights", I take my guide book out of
my well traveled knapsack and begin to entice myself with all of the
possibilities this city has to offer. There are hundereds of museums,
gardens and shops to explore.... but I am in the mood for an
unconventional experience.
I have heard about them...even wonder if I can find them.
Or are they a local secret? I decide to be bold and find out for
myself. I approach a middle age woman who seems to be enjoying the day
as much I. I prepare to use my french and softly
ask...
Pardon madame, ou sont les Catacombs?
When she hears my request a look of wonder spreads over
her carefully madeup face. I don't think she can believe I would want
to leave the comfort and serenity of this sun drenched day and decend
into the dark depths of the catacombs.
Unlike the catacombs of Rome, the catacombs of Paris are a
young two hundred and thirteen years in age. They were constructed to
house the remains of hundreds of people after the local cemeteries
filled to capacity. These cemeteries must have been pretty small
because the skulls and bones are several meters thick along the wall in
some points.
I locate the entrance to the catacombs just off of the
Denfert Rocherau metro stop. I begin to delve down into the faintly lit tunnels.
The walls are cool and moist to the touch. I wander with my group ( NO
ONE should dare to experience the catacombs alone) for what seems to be
an eternity (this endless feeling seems fitting for the atmosphere
here). We go up and down hills, around bends and turns. It is taking
for ever andI begin to wonder if this is all just a money making hoax.
The sight I see before me stops me in mid thought... An old sign in
block letters looms over the entrance of the actual tomb. It reads (en
francais) Arrete! C'est ici l'empire de la mort (Stop!
This is the empire of death). My entire being fills with trepidation as
I take my first step past the rooms threshold . There is no turining
back now. I glance around the unventilated room and to my immediate
left as well as to my very near right are piles and piles of all types
of human bones stacked neatly against the dirt covered walls. Many of
the bones and skulls on the facade of the pile are arranged into
interesting patterns which range from cross like formations to neat
horizontal and verticle lines.
Feeling quite brave, my traveling companion and I dare each other to
touch one of the skulls. I reach out with the tip of my left pinky and
lightly brush the top of the skull. I can STILL feel the unearthly
sensation of it lingering on my finger.
The path continues along as I pass by layers upon layers
of death and decay. I have been in the tomb room for at least twenty
minutes and it seems as though I will never see the light of day again.
I begin to feel trapped and want to be anywhere but HERE any longer.
Finally, the bones thin out and the rock littered path
begins to ascend up toward the street I left behind an hour or so ago.
I come out of the deep dark and step into the Parisian streets. It
feels great to feel the sun and as my eyes adjust to the intense light
of the world up above, people are going about their day as if unaware
of what exists just below them.
I am glad I have chosen to experience this "underground"
part of Paris and I am quite ready for a more familiar adventure now. I
wonder if the Musee d'Orsey is still open??? On with the
day.
Assisting editor for this issue of the Paris Kiosque, and
a native Californian, she has had a
lifelong passion for France. In the fall of 1995, she disguised
herself as a Parisian while living and attending the Cité Université
in the 14th arrondissement. She has returned to the US, but her
heart and thoughts will never completely leave Paris. She can be
reached at chaquita27@mailexcite.com.
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