Writing friends

me and Caroline 

The only overseas trip I had to take for my last job was a quick turnaround junket to Paris to interview the architects of the new Louis Vuitton flagship store on Champs-Elysees. I flew Business Class on Singapore Airlines, landed in Paris at dawn, was met by a car and chauffered to my hotel, Hotel D'Aubusson on Rue Dauphine off Pont Nuef, just in time to shower, get dressed and make my way to the press conference at the LV architecture department headquarters. I would be free in the afternoon but would need to fly back at ten the next morning, ergo the need to fly Business Class.

Still, I was happy for even one day in Paris, and it was the perfect time to meet my friend Caroline Cheng, face to face for the first time. Margo introduced me to Caroline via email, saying, "She's a writer, too." And on and off, Caroline and I have kept up a nice correspondence, mostly discussing how we're not writing, because the duties of motherhood and the details of living often get in the way. Married to Frenchman, she has a lovely pair of five year old twins, and lives just off the Rue Montaigne in a marvelous flat with a magnificent view of both the Eiffel Tower and the River Siene. Although Caroline and her family fly to Manila every year, we had never had a chance to catch up there, so when this trip materialised, I knew it was my chance.

After lunch with LV principal from Shanghai who gave me a complex because apart from English and Mandarin, she could speak French like nobody's business, I popped into H&M for a bit of shopping, then took the Metro to Alma Marceau, right in the heart of Caroline's glamorous neighborhood. I climbed the steps to her fourth floor flat, met both her children and her husband and what can I say? We were like old friends instead of new, effortlessly picking up the threads of conversation that we had only just begun, right smack in the middle. We were kindred--able to talk about everything, all the while telling jokes and making snappy comebacks as though we had been doing it for years. Her delightful husband, Eric shooed us out of the house to have our dinner and continue the tete-a-tete at a nearby bistro, which turned out to be Bar des Theatres on Avenue Montaigne. Caroline turned to me conspiratorially, saying, "We're eating where Gwyneth Paltrow likes to eat," knowing instinctively that this little factoid would thrill me. Sure enough, I was buzzed to read US Vogue October and find that indeed, the Gywneth interview took place right there.

The hours we spent over dinner and wine and dessert and coffee were among the most pleasurable I'd spent in a long time. We talked about (what else but) writing, raising children, and the challenge of combining both. We talked about our childhoods, the way were raised, mutual friends, all the while discovering our shared loves, dreams and ambitions. When it was over, she walked me to the Metro, and we hugged, giggly and hilariously close to tears, knowing full well we both had no idea when we might see each other again but ever certain of the authenticity of our friendship.

These days, when I'm faced with the blank screen or a new page in my writing notebook, I think of Caroline, who may be doing the same...across the ocean, another writer in residence.