Voisin

n. neighbor
Sonore
adj. – noisy
Hurler
v. – to yell
Like many apartment dwellers we have been subjected to noise from the neighbors overhead from time to time throughout the years. For this reason, we finally insisted on an apartment on the top floor. Well that’s if you don’t count the “chambres de bonnes” or maid’s quarters overhead and don’t even get me started again on those! Imagine my surprise in realizing not so long after moving in that not only had we now become the noisy neighbors overhead, but we were also subjected to an extremely noisy neighbor below!

Almost all the old buildings in Paris have parquet floors, which while they may be pretty to look at, are the noisiest things you can possibly imagine to walk on. Ours are the original from the 30’s when the building was built. What is under them separating us from the person below I imagine is only the plaster of her ceiling. Even with rugs and in bare feet, you can hear the weight of every footstep and if you’re lucky a good creak and groan in certain spots.

The noise from below is “infernal” as the French like to say. Our neighbor not only keeps her shoes on as she stomps around, but she like to speak loudly and entertain loud guests. For some reason, even though she is loud, because I’m above her it bothers me less. I suppose I feel I still have the power to make her life miserable should I really choose to and knowing I have that power is enough for me. I don’t like hearing my own footsteps let alone hers. The first thing we do when we get home is to take our shoes off and pad around in socks or slippers. So she really has it pretty good or so I thought.

The other night while home alone and my husband away on business, the doorbell rang at 9:30. This isn’t terribly late, but still I wasn’t expecting anyone and could only imagine it must be someone in the building. I looked through the peephole and asked who it was without opening the door. It was her.

Before I could even get a word out she proceeded to yell at me about being woken up the last two nights at three o’clock and five o’clock in the morning and that it was unacceptable and she had a new job where she had to be up by eight and on and on and on. This after having had a party the night before that went on until almost midnight after which as I got into bed, she pounded on the ceiling. It scared me a little, but all I could think was that she was saying, “Now my party is over and I’m going to sleep so you better not make any noise!” Did I mention that I think she’s a little crazy?

Anyway, I was so taken aback all I could think of was bringing up her party and the fact that she was the one making all the noise to which she responded that it had ended at 11:30, but I still woke her up in the middle of the night. I wasn’t going to take the fall for the three am noise – it wasn’t me. I had gotten up around five to use the bathroom and frankly, I wasn’t going to apologize for that either. It’s not as if I do cartwheels across the living room floor to get there. Does she expect me to use a bedpan or just reduce my intake of fluids as early as possible? Seriously, I was furious. But because I was so flustered, all I could think of saying was “Ecoutez!,” “Listen,!” to which she would yell back “Je vous ecoute!,” “I’m listening to you!” And then I would get stuck. It’s enough to compose yourself in another language when someone is yelling at you and then on top of it having to remember to use the formal tense. It was all too much. She finally left after threatening to come up and ring my bell at eight the next morning if she heard any more noise from me. Thankfully I didn’t need to get up until after I heard her leave. But I am reconsidering having anyone living “au dessus,” above, “au dessous,” below or even “à coté,” beside me. Too bad they don’t have any yurts in Paris.