22 Octobre 2007
I meet Pierre at Sentiers (which is apparently near where he works) for a late lunch. He met me at the metro station around 3pm and we walked around the neighborhood until we found a quaint restaurant to have lunch at. I took a glass of red wine; he had beer. When we ordered I took a croque-monsieur; he took a croque-madame, which is usually a grilled cheese sandwich topped with an egg cooked sunny-side up. (Sometimes this sandwich also has ham in it; just depends on the café.) When the waiter brought out our order, I laughed when Pierre told him “Croque-monsieur pour madame, croque-madame pour monsieur.” It was the truth but I am always amazed at how amusing the French language can be. While eating, a homeless guy came up to us to see if he could get some money. Pierre told him sorry, that we didn’t have anything, without even looking at him. He continued to walk up and down the street. On his third time past us, we had already finished eating but he asked for a cigarette, which Pierre gave him one. Amazing how he wouldn’t share his food, but he was ok with giving a cigarette. Maybe he doesn’t believe in being denied the small pleasures of life. Once we decided to leave the café, we walked to the Forum des Halles, which is a large shopping center that is connected to a metro station. There were tons of people walking around and we went to the FNAC, a large electronic/music store, almost like a Best Buy, a Barnes and Noble, and a TicketMaster all put together. Pierre wanted to buy a ticket to a concert for HocusPocus, a French rap group, but unfortunately he was unable to do so, since the concert was sold out. We continued to walk around the center, looking at different items. After about an hour, we had to leave for different appointments. The attached metro station, Chatelet, is super crazy (with traffic) because there is the metro line and two or three RERs that meet up at this station. I’m learning to appreciate getting to see all my friends from Miami, especially my French friends.
Sunday, November 18, 2007
I Loved This Day!
21 Octobre 2007
Mickel and I actually decided on the same place to visit, Musée d’Orsay, but because we left the house so late and the museum would close in an hour, we decided to just walk around Paris. This museum is not far from the Louvre, so Mickel and I headed in that direction. We took pictures of each other on the bridges over the Seine and then we entered the Jardin des Tuileries, which is a beautiful garden with large fountains and tons of statues. There are lots of green chairs everywhere, kind of like metal adirondack chairs, and people sit all over the park. Some sit alone and read or sleep; others sit with their loved ones or family. There are ice cream vendors as well as a couple of small cafes that featured a special: vin chaud (hot wine). Mickel and I walked throughout the park, until we came across the huge Ferris wheel, called La Grande Roue de Paris. All of the carriages featured rugby teams on them and they were capable of being spun in a horizontal circle. Mickel asked me if I wanted to ride it and of course, I said yes! It was kind of expensive (8€) but sometimes it’s worth it for the entertainment. Mickel and I had to wait 3 times for the wheel to stop, but we were the first ones on during our turn. Our carriage just featured emblems of the rugby world cup and for some reason, I was happy it didn’t feature a specific team. I can’t really explain why. Once Mickel and I were seated, he started spinning the carriage and it kind of freaked me out at first. I’m not afraid of heights, but I like to “get my bearings” the first time I go high on some kind of ride. After awhile, it was like a game to try and stop him spinning it, but of course, he was stronger than me and I had to keep spinning until I asked nicely. I mean, the view was spectacular and I wanted pictures of Paris as the sun was setting. Fortunately, he would turn the carriage so I could take my pictures. After our turn on the Ferris wheel was over, we bought something to eat at the vendors right behind the attraction. I got a hot dog with cheese and unlike the hot dogs in the US, this is a huge hot dog with tons of melted cheese and a bottle of water; Mickel got a salami sandwich and a coffee. It was a great way to spend a later afternoon.
Mickel and I actually decided on the same place to visit, Musée d’Orsay, but because we left the house so late and the museum would close in an hour, we decided to just walk around Paris. This museum is not far from the Louvre, so Mickel and I headed in that direction. We took pictures of each other on the bridges over the Seine and then we entered the Jardin des Tuileries, which is a beautiful garden with large fountains and tons of statues. There are lots of green chairs everywhere, kind of like metal adirondack chairs, and people sit all over the park. Some sit alone and read or sleep; others sit with their loved ones or family. There are ice cream vendors as well as a couple of small cafes that featured a special: vin chaud (hot wine). Mickel and I walked throughout the park, until we came across the huge Ferris wheel, called La Grande Roue de Paris. All of the carriages featured rugby teams on them and they were capable of being spun in a horizontal circle. Mickel asked me if I wanted to ride it and of course, I said yes! It was kind of expensive (8€) but sometimes it’s worth it for the entertainment. Mickel and I had to wait 3 times for the wheel to stop, but we were the first ones on during our turn. Our carriage just featured emblems of the rugby world cup and for some reason, I was happy it didn’t feature a specific team. I can’t really explain why. Once Mickel and I were seated, he started spinning the carriage and it kind of freaked me out at first. I’m not afraid of heights, but I like to “get my bearings” the first time I go high on some kind of ride. After awhile, it was like a game to try and stop him spinning it, but of course, he was stronger than me and I had to keep spinning until I asked nicely. I mean, the view was spectacular and I wanted pictures of Paris as the sun was setting. Fortunately, he would turn the carriage so I could take my pictures. After our turn on the Ferris wheel was over, we bought something to eat at the vendors right behind the attraction. I got a hot dog with cheese and unlike the hot dogs in the US, this is a huge hot dog with tons of melted cheese and a bottle of water; Mickel got a salami sandwich and a coffee. It was a great way to spend a later afternoon.
The Strikes In France: They're The Beginning Of The End...I Think
18 Octobre 2007
Today was the grève des transports which is where all the employees of the transportation system in France (metro, bus and RER) protest against the government because they don’t like some of the changes that were made in regards to length of work week and retirement age. The strange thing about strikes in France is that they are set up months in advance and the dates leading up to its commencement, there are advertisements about it everywhere. This strike in particular affected members of the educational system, so some of the teachers of our high school went on strike. Because of the lack in transportation (no RERs and limited bus/metros), many of the students couldn’t come to school. I ended up having some of my classes cancelled because of it. (I also didn’t babysit because of the limited transportation.) Since Mickel and I ended up having a free day, we decided to venture out. Mickel wanted to go to La Defense, which is on the opposite side of Paris from us. I agreed, only because some of the professors had said that line 1 would be working just fine. Oh, how I wish I had never agreed to go! Since Bérault is near the end of line 1, we could get on when there weren’t many people. However, as the line progressed towards larger stations, the metro became so crowded with people, that I felt like I was being stepped on and peoples’ arms were in my face. By the time Mickel and I got to La Defense, I felt so nauseated that I had to walk around slowly and get some air. La Defense is Paris’ largest business park and it is well known for the Grande Arche, which can be seen as one exits the last metro station. There was also a huge screen that was playing rugby and several spectators who were watching. I took pictures of some of the buildings and artwork nearby, but also some of Mickel, since he didn’t have a camera. From La Defense, it is possible to see the Arc de Triomphe in the distance, which means that the Champs-Élysées is just beyond. Mickel and I walked with all of the employees (who were leaving for the day) towards the Arc. It was quite a long walk considering how close everything seems and by the time we got to the Arc, it was already night. I got some great pictures of the Eiffel Tower with the moon as well as the Arc de Triomphe all lit up. There were also tons of antique dealers who had small tented shops nearby that featured all kinds of furniture. What was incredible was that when they were done for the day, the just sealed up their tents and left! I hope that they did something with their things. I’d be afraid that someone would steal them. Unfortunately, we were not going to be able to walk all the way back to Vincennes, so we had to take the metro near Concorde and of course, it was so crowded. I was so happy when we got back home so I could get out of the crowds. Note to self: Never travel during a strike. If you can’t get there by walking, you don’t need to go!
Today was the grève des transports which is where all the employees of the transportation system in France (metro, bus and RER) protest against the government because they don’t like some of the changes that were made in regards to length of work week and retirement age. The strange thing about strikes in France is that they are set up months in advance and the dates leading up to its commencement, there are advertisements about it everywhere. This strike in particular affected members of the educational system, so some of the teachers of our high school went on strike. Because of the lack in transportation (no RERs and limited bus/metros), many of the students couldn’t come to school. I ended up having some of my classes cancelled because of it. (I also didn’t babysit because of the limited transportation.) Since Mickel and I ended up having a free day, we decided to venture out. Mickel wanted to go to La Defense, which is on the opposite side of Paris from us. I agreed, only because some of the professors had said that line 1 would be working just fine. Oh, how I wish I had never agreed to go! Since Bérault is near the end of line 1, we could get on when there weren’t many people. However, as the line progressed towards larger stations, the metro became so crowded with people, that I felt like I was being stepped on and peoples’ arms were in my face. By the time Mickel and I got to La Defense, I felt so nauseated that I had to walk around slowly and get some air. La Defense is Paris’ largest business park and it is well known for the Grande Arche, which can be seen as one exits the last metro station. There was also a huge screen that was playing rugby and several spectators who were watching. I took pictures of some of the buildings and artwork nearby, but also some of Mickel, since he didn’t have a camera. From La Defense, it is possible to see the Arc de Triomphe in the distance, which means that the Champs-Élysées is just beyond. Mickel and I walked with all of the employees (who were leaving for the day) towards the Arc. It was quite a long walk considering how close everything seems and by the time we got to the Arc, it was already night. I got some great pictures of the Eiffel Tower with the moon as well as the Arc de Triomphe all lit up. There were also tons of antique dealers who had small tented shops nearby that featured all kinds of furniture. What was incredible was that when they were done for the day, the just sealed up their tents and left! I hope that they did something with their things. I’d be afraid that someone would steal them. Unfortunately, we were not going to be able to walk all the way back to Vincennes, so we had to take the metro near Concorde and of course, it was so crowded. I was so happy when we got back home so I could get out of the crowds. Note to self: Never travel during a strike. If you can’t get there by walking, you don’t need to go!
The Lovely Dinner Party
13 Octobre 2007
Tonight, Mickel and I attended a dinner party hosted by his main professor, Mme Marie-Esther Sanchez. Mme Sanchez teaches Spanish (obviously) and although she is French, her parents initially moved to France from Spain. She considers herself from the area near the Loire River Valley, where she was born and where her parents currently live, known as Fontainebleau (also home to the well-known Chateau de Fontainebleau. Seriously, google it. It’s amazing.) Mme Sanchez had invited us to a small dinner with her at her home around 8pm. Of course, Mickel and I were running a little late (hey, it’s customary in France to be about 30 mins late for dinner!) because we didn’t know the area very well. We also had a little snafu with her ascenseur (elevator). Mickel was joking around, jumping up and down inside of the already small elevator. Of course, I was squealing that he should stop, that something would happen. When we got to the “right floor”, the door opened and it appeared that we were stuck in between two floors! I got a little freaked out that we might get stuck in the elevator and gave Mickel a hard time about making us even tardier. We could hear Mme Sanchez laughing and telling us that we should take the elevator up to the fourth floor and she would meet us. Fortunately, when we pushed the button, the door closed and proceeded up to the next floor. She met us at the door and walked us down a small flight of stairs. Apparently, it wasn’t Mickel’s jumping that caused the problem. The building’s floors don’t quite match up with the elevator, so sometimes you have to take the next floor up and then walk down a small staircase. Mme Sanchez welcomed us into her home and we noticed that there were two other young people there. It happened to be her niece, Anna, and Anna’s boyfriend Guillaume. Since Mme Sanchez doesn’t have any children (or has never been married), she likes to invite her nieces and nephews over to eat with her, as if they were her own children. Anna, 25, works at a hotel and also babysits a young child. Her boyfriend, 27, works at the Charles de Gaulle airport (where I landed) as a flight representative to help passengers check in, check luggage, etc. He amazed me with his knowledge of many languages (French, English, some Spanish and a little German) because of the number of different backgrounds that come through the busy airport. Before the French eat their meal, there are usually les aperitifs (appetizers and alcohol) served to the guests. These can consist of chips, crackers, nuts, dried fruit mix (aka little munchies) and usually some kind of alcohol, like bourbon/scotch/brandy/etc. We sit and eat and talk and eat for about an hour or until the hostess tells us it’s time to eat and welcomes us to the table. Mme Sanchez had prepared us raclette (yum!) only this time she served it the proper way, with all the charcuterie. Lots of pancetta, proscuitto, ham, bacon, etc. And of course, there was wine and tons of cheese! We were consistently receiving the small plaques of melted cheese, even if we hadn’t finished our originally serving. To be honest, it was even better than eating it in the restaurant previously because of how many other people were sharing in the process. After dinner, the dessert was served, a chocolate pear tarte that Guillaume had made. Now, I’m not much of a pear person, but I ate my piece and it wasn’t too bad. We were also served a different wine for the dessert, a nice Riesling from the Alsace region in France. (It’s near Germany.) And of course, because you can’t have too much wine at a French dinner, Mme Sanchez gave Mickel and me some strong red wine from Spain. Throughout the night, the conversation (and the company) was very pleasant. Anna asked her aunt if we could come back for another dinner. She said of course and Anna and her beau left, because they had to work the next day. We helped Mme Sanchez to clear the table, even though she kept insisting that guests weren’t supposed to help with the dishes. We looked at some of her pictures from her travels and then Mickel and I left because it was getting really late! We had to catch the last metro which runs at 2am!
Tonight, Mickel and I attended a dinner party hosted by his main professor, Mme Marie-Esther Sanchez. Mme Sanchez teaches Spanish (obviously) and although she is French, her parents initially moved to France from Spain. She considers herself from the area near the Loire River Valley, where she was born and where her parents currently live, known as Fontainebleau (also home to the well-known Chateau de Fontainebleau. Seriously, google it. It’s amazing.) Mme Sanchez had invited us to a small dinner with her at her home around 8pm. Of course, Mickel and I were running a little late (hey, it’s customary in France to be about 30 mins late for dinner!) because we didn’t know the area very well. We also had a little snafu with her ascenseur (elevator). Mickel was joking around, jumping up and down inside of the already small elevator. Of course, I was squealing that he should stop, that something would happen. When we got to the “right floor”, the door opened and it appeared that we were stuck in between two floors! I got a little freaked out that we might get stuck in the elevator and gave Mickel a hard time about making us even tardier. We could hear Mme Sanchez laughing and telling us that we should take the elevator up to the fourth floor and she would meet us. Fortunately, when we pushed the button, the door closed and proceeded up to the next floor. She met us at the door and walked us down a small flight of stairs. Apparently, it wasn’t Mickel’s jumping that caused the problem. The building’s floors don’t quite match up with the elevator, so sometimes you have to take the next floor up and then walk down a small staircase. Mme Sanchez welcomed us into her home and we noticed that there were two other young people there. It happened to be her niece, Anna, and Anna’s boyfriend Guillaume. Since Mme Sanchez doesn’t have any children (or has never been married), she likes to invite her nieces and nephews over to eat with her, as if they were her own children. Anna, 25, works at a hotel and also babysits a young child. Her boyfriend, 27, works at the Charles de Gaulle airport (where I landed) as a flight representative to help passengers check in, check luggage, etc. He amazed me with his knowledge of many languages (French, English, some Spanish and a little German) because of the number of different backgrounds that come through the busy airport. Before the French eat their meal, there are usually les aperitifs (appetizers and alcohol) served to the guests. These can consist of chips, crackers, nuts, dried fruit mix (aka little munchies) and usually some kind of alcohol, like bourbon/scotch/brandy/etc. We sit and eat and talk and eat for about an hour or until the hostess tells us it’s time to eat and welcomes us to the table. Mme Sanchez had prepared us raclette (yum!) only this time she served it the proper way, with all the charcuterie. Lots of pancetta, proscuitto, ham, bacon, etc. And of course, there was wine and tons of cheese! We were consistently receiving the small plaques of melted cheese, even if we hadn’t finished our originally serving. To be honest, it was even better than eating it in the restaurant previously because of how many other people were sharing in the process. After dinner, the dessert was served, a chocolate pear tarte that Guillaume had made. Now, I’m not much of a pear person, but I ate my piece and it wasn’t too bad. We were also served a different wine for the dessert, a nice Riesling from the Alsace region in France. (It’s near Germany.) And of course, because you can’t have too much wine at a French dinner, Mme Sanchez gave Mickel and me some strong red wine from Spain. Throughout the night, the conversation (and the company) was very pleasant. Anna asked her aunt if we could come back for another dinner. She said of course and Anna and her beau left, because they had to work the next day. We helped Mme Sanchez to clear the table, even though she kept insisting that guests weren’t supposed to help with the dishes. We looked at some of her pictures from her travels and then Mickel and I left because it was getting really late! We had to catch the last metro which runs at 2am!
Meeting Up With A Good Friend
11 Octobre 2007
Today, I went to go meet Gwenola, another French friend of mine from Miami. (She was one of my residents when I was an RA.) I meet her in the 7th arrondissement, which is one of the nicest and richest parts of Paris. She lives here with her parents, but she lives in the maid’s quarters of her parents’ home. Apparently, she’s working as an underpaid assistant for a design company, helping with their appointment schedule and other such things in their office. She told me it’s only temporary, but that she currently enjoys the work. She met me at the metro station and she took me to a nice restaurant, where we shared a bottle of wine and I had a salad with warm goat cheese. We talked about the past and Miami, but we also talked about how difficult it was for her to come back to France in January after being away for four months. She was glad to see that I seemed well integrated here in France. We also both talked about how we would both like to been in a relationship with someone great. Knowing Gwenola, her life is too crazy to get into something deep with someone else. She confesses, as I expect with her, that she is always busy but she hopes to get together sometime soon. I’m thankful that all my French friends haven’t forgotten about me since I’m come to France. I don’t depend on them but it’s certainly nice to have their company when I’m the stranger in their homeland.
Today, I went to go meet Gwenola, another French friend of mine from Miami. (She was one of my residents when I was an RA.) I meet her in the 7th arrondissement, which is one of the nicest and richest parts of Paris. She lives here with her parents, but she lives in the maid’s quarters of her parents’ home. Apparently, she’s working as an underpaid assistant for a design company, helping with their appointment schedule and other such things in their office. She told me it’s only temporary, but that she currently enjoys the work. She met me at the metro station and she took me to a nice restaurant, where we shared a bottle of wine and I had a salad with warm goat cheese. We talked about the past and Miami, but we also talked about how difficult it was for her to come back to France in January after being away for four months. She was glad to see that I seemed well integrated here in France. We also both talked about how we would both like to been in a relationship with someone great. Knowing Gwenola, her life is too crazy to get into something deep with someone else. She confesses, as I expect with her, that she is always busy but she hopes to get together sometime soon. I’m thankful that all my French friends haven’t forgotten about me since I’m come to France. I don’t depend on them but it’s certainly nice to have their company when I’m the stranger in their homeland.
I Can't Believe That I'm A Teacher In France
9 Octobre 2007
I started teaching classes today! OMG. My first class was one of my seconde (sophomores) and they are super curious about practicing their English, which is pretty good for the youngsters of the high school. We worked on a piece about adoption, since they are studying family right now. I also found some funny cartoons that I had them work with. The most popular one seems to be the “macaroni” picture. My second class I meet (première = juniors) with had to take a test, so I sat quietly in the class with my professor and observed the students. My third class was cancelled (yes!) so I had a free period until 3pm when I resume teaching. My teacher for my terminale STG (basically, senior science students) had not provided me with any lesson plan! Because I had already met them the week before, their teacher wanted me to teach them about Native Americans. Teach them about Native Americans? This seemed odd to me, but fortunately with my background and past interest in archaeology, as well as my former employment at Sun Watch Indian Village, I was able to lead a discussion from, well, my ass. Of course, it seems awkward as hell and I know that the students were bored, because at the end of class, they said they were going to talk to their teacher about what they wanted to do with this class. Disappointed, I wasn’t a better “teacher” or at least entertaining, I finished out my day in a class of virtually no English speakers to whom I would later teach English. Oh special. My worst class of the day is my BTS (brevet de technicien supérieur) pour l’assurance. These are basically post-graduate high school students who want to work for insurance companies once they have finished their intermediate studies. This seems to be my most difficult class so far, because hardly any of them speak English. I remember being in their class the first week and having to answer their questions, most of which didn’t present any. And, Céline pretty much translated everything for them into French, which I know that I can’t do because my vocabulary is still a little weak. I was supposed to teach them about how to write CVs, but also explain to them the difference between CVs and resumes according to the US. I prompted them several times, but they pretty much stayed silent or talked to their neighbors. I got pretty angry with them and I think they could tell that I was upset. I think my problem with this class is going to be the lack of interests from the students because they just don’t care. They don’t understand the importance of the language, even though they have studied it for the past eight years in collège and lycée! I just honestly wish that they would make more of an effort to try and participate. I have a feeling that this is probably going to be my most challenging class of the year. Lucky me.
I started teaching classes today! OMG. My first class was one of my seconde (sophomores) and they are super curious about practicing their English, which is pretty good for the youngsters of the high school. We worked on a piece about adoption, since they are studying family right now. I also found some funny cartoons that I had them work with. The most popular one seems to be the “macaroni” picture. My second class I meet (première = juniors) with had to take a test, so I sat quietly in the class with my professor and observed the students. My third class was cancelled (yes!) so I had a free period until 3pm when I resume teaching. My teacher for my terminale STG (basically, senior science students) had not provided me with any lesson plan! Because I had already met them the week before, their teacher wanted me to teach them about Native Americans. Teach them about Native Americans? This seemed odd to me, but fortunately with my background and past interest in archaeology, as well as my former employment at Sun Watch Indian Village, I was able to lead a discussion from, well, my ass. Of course, it seems awkward as hell and I know that the students were bored, because at the end of class, they said they were going to talk to their teacher about what they wanted to do with this class. Disappointed, I wasn’t a better “teacher” or at least entertaining, I finished out my day in a class of virtually no English speakers to whom I would later teach English. Oh special. My worst class of the day is my BTS (brevet de technicien supérieur) pour l’assurance. These are basically post-graduate high school students who want to work for insurance companies once they have finished their intermediate studies. This seems to be my most difficult class so far, because hardly any of them speak English. I remember being in their class the first week and having to answer their questions, most of which didn’t present any. And, Céline pretty much translated everything for them into French, which I know that I can’t do because my vocabulary is still a little weak. I was supposed to teach them about how to write CVs, but also explain to them the difference between CVs and resumes according to the US. I prompted them several times, but they pretty much stayed silent or talked to their neighbors. I got pretty angry with them and I think they could tell that I was upset. I think my problem with this class is going to be the lack of interests from the students because they just don’t care. They don’t understand the importance of the language, even though they have studied it for the past eight years in collège and lycée! I just honestly wish that they would make more of an effort to try and participate. I have a feeling that this is probably going to be my most challenging class of the year. Lucky me.
Dinner Is Always Nice In The Latin Quarter
7 Octobre 2007
Since Mickel and I had stayed up really late, we slept in really late too! We pretty much didn’t do anything until I called Liz later in the afternoon about going to the library. When we attempted to go to the library, the entrance was so full of people that we decided to sit out back and access the Internet outside. Once we were finished, Mickel asked us if we wanted to get a drink somewhere, so we stopped at an “Irish Pub” for a drink. Liz and I had cocktails; Mickel had a beer. They were overpriced and under quality, like most of the bars here in Paris. Since we weren’t quite ready to go home, we walked around Paris until we reached the Latin Quarter. Here, there are tons of restaurants and bars and most feature really good prices. After wandering for about an hour, we decided that we were too hungry to leave and stayed for dinner at a little restaurant called Le Vieux Paris. Liz had chicken in a nice mushroom sauce with fries (they love them here in France!); Mickel and I shared a dish called raclette nature. This is a dish of boiled potatoes, which you top with melted cheese (fromage à raclette) by placing the slices in a little tray which goes into a machine that creates heat. Our dish is called raclette nature because the dish without meat. Normal raclette usually comes with a variety of different meats, like ham, bacon, proscuitto, salami, pancetta, all of which the French would call charcuterie. For dessert, Liz and I got the mousse au chocolat and Mickel got the tarte du jour. It was a lovely meal and the restaurant was so small and quaint. There were currency bills from all over the world hanging from the back of the restaurant. Mickel gave them a bill from Costa Rica so he could be represented. I wished that I had had a two dollar bill from my collection to give.
Since Mickel and I had stayed up really late, we slept in really late too! We pretty much didn’t do anything until I called Liz later in the afternoon about going to the library. When we attempted to go to the library, the entrance was so full of people that we decided to sit out back and access the Internet outside. Once we were finished, Mickel asked us if we wanted to get a drink somewhere, so we stopped at an “Irish Pub” for a drink. Liz and I had cocktails; Mickel had a beer. They were overpriced and under quality, like most of the bars here in Paris. Since we weren’t quite ready to go home, we walked around Paris until we reached the Latin Quarter. Here, there are tons of restaurants and bars and most feature really good prices. After wandering for about an hour, we decided that we were too hungry to leave and stayed for dinner at a little restaurant called Le Vieux Paris. Liz had chicken in a nice mushroom sauce with fries (they love them here in France!); Mickel and I shared a dish called raclette nature. This is a dish of boiled potatoes, which you top with melted cheese (fromage à raclette) by placing the slices in a little tray which goes into a machine that creates heat. Our dish is called raclette nature because the dish without meat. Normal raclette usually comes with a variety of different meats, like ham, bacon, proscuitto, salami, pancetta, all of which the French would call charcuterie. For dessert, Liz and I got the mousse au chocolat and Mickel got the tarte du jour. It was a lovely meal and the restaurant was so small and quaint. There were currency bills from all over the world hanging from the back of the restaurant. Mickel gave them a bill from Costa Rica so he could be represented. I wished that I had had a two dollar bill from my collection to give.
Just Because It Sounds Exciting Doesn't Necessarily Mean It Is...
6 Octobre 2007
Today is Nuit Blanche! It’s the night where everyone in Paris stays out late, the metro doesn’t close and everyone parties! Firstly, my lovely bank card has arrived and now I can use it, because I’m getting paid at the end of the month and my debits don’t come out until the 5th of the following month! During the day, Liz and I got together to meet with some of the assistants from her département to go to the Père Lachaise, one of the largest cemeteries in Paris and it features many famous people, like Oscar Wilde, Edith Piaf, Jim Morrison, Charles Baudelaire, Balzac, etc. I had been in contact with Pierre, a former student from Miami, to see about meeting up. He agreed to meet Liz and me at the Père Lachaise early and to walk around with us. However, true to his French self, he ended up canceling until later in the afternoon, when we were to meet him for a drink. Since we arrived early, Liz and I walked around the neighborhood, which honestly wasn’t much to look at, only there was a market going on, which we decided to check out. On our way into the market, an elderly man (with a cane!) told me I looked pretty and asked me if I wanted to join him for a cup of coffee. I told him thank you but no; Liz just laughed. Throughout the market, there were so many things to look at and smell and taste. Flowers, cheese, fish, bread, meat, vegetables, fruits, clothes, etc. Some of the (younger) vendors started cat-calling to Liz and me, but we just ignored and kept moving with the flow of the buyers. Eventually, we made our way back to the entrance to the Père Lachaise, where we meet up with Lorna and Rachel. We ended up walking around the cemetery (felt more like getting lost) for a couple of hours. Eventually, we found the graves of Oscar Wilde, Edith Piaf and Jim Morrison. The Père Lachaise is beautiful; there are many gardens and flowers everywhere. The ironic thing is that couples sit in the cemetery and make out. Not exactly the most romantic place to be, I’d have to say. We left Liz’s fellow assistants because we had an appointment to meet Pierre at Pigalle, which is right near Montmartre. Liz and I wanted to buy scarfs before meeting up with him, so we made the hike up through the hills until we found the shop we had visited previously. We purchased what we wanted and then went back to the metro station where Pierre was waiting for us, right on time. (Thank goodness!) We had a nice drink with him and we reminisced about the “good old Miami days”. Of course, I teased him about anything like I always do. It was just nice to see one of my French friends in Paris. We parted in the metro, with a promise to get together again soon. Liz and I headed home so that we could get ready for Nuit Blanche! I wanted to wear a dress (I was in a dressy mood) but I opted for jeans and my striped tube top and my new scarf. I also opted to wear my high heels. What a dumb decision when you’re walking in Paris. It was somewhat cold that night, but we managed to find a nice restaurant not too far from the Centre Pompidou. Liz had a calzone and tiramisu; Mickel had a seafood appetizer, rabbit as his dinner, chocolate cake and coffee!!; I had small raviolis in a cream sauce for an appetizer, home cut french fry wedges (they were so good!) and chocolate ice cream. Afterwards, we headed towards the Louvre, where there was a lot of commotion. Apparently, France had won their game of rugby and everyone was in the street yelling or singing. Many cars and scooters were honking their horns and displaying the French flag. It was certainly crazy. We ended up meeting again with Lorna and we all walked to the Eiffel Tower, which was lit up, but every 5 mins before and after the hour, the Eiffel Tower has a light display that makes it look glittery/sparkly. We stayed at the Eiffel Tower until people started leaving and we tried to take the RER but it was closed, so we had to walk to Bir Hakim to take the metro home. I had to take off my shoes because my poor feet were killing me! I decided that I was disappointed with the Nuit Blanche because supposedly there were supposed to be great parties going on, but nothing much seemed to be different or we just couldn’t find them. The Louvre was open late to people, but it was so crowded that it was worth trying to enter. I was glad when Mickel and I were home. After making some calls to his family in Costa Rica, he and I talked until late in the morning.
Today is Nuit Blanche! It’s the night where everyone in Paris stays out late, the metro doesn’t close and everyone parties! Firstly, my lovely bank card has arrived and now I can use it, because I’m getting paid at the end of the month and my debits don’t come out until the 5th of the following month! During the day, Liz and I got together to meet with some of the assistants from her département to go to the Père Lachaise, one of the largest cemeteries in Paris and it features many famous people, like Oscar Wilde, Edith Piaf, Jim Morrison, Charles Baudelaire, Balzac, etc. I had been in contact with Pierre, a former student from Miami, to see about meeting up. He agreed to meet Liz and me at the Père Lachaise early and to walk around with us. However, true to his French self, he ended up canceling until later in the afternoon, when we were to meet him for a drink. Since we arrived early, Liz and I walked around the neighborhood, which honestly wasn’t much to look at, only there was a market going on, which we decided to check out. On our way into the market, an elderly man (with a cane!) told me I looked pretty and asked me if I wanted to join him for a cup of coffee. I told him thank you but no; Liz just laughed. Throughout the market, there were so many things to look at and smell and taste. Flowers, cheese, fish, bread, meat, vegetables, fruits, clothes, etc. Some of the (younger) vendors started cat-calling to Liz and me, but we just ignored and kept moving with the flow of the buyers. Eventually, we made our way back to the entrance to the Père Lachaise, where we meet up with Lorna and Rachel. We ended up walking around the cemetery (felt more like getting lost) for a couple of hours. Eventually, we found the graves of Oscar Wilde, Edith Piaf and Jim Morrison. The Père Lachaise is beautiful; there are many gardens and flowers everywhere. The ironic thing is that couples sit in the cemetery and make out. Not exactly the most romantic place to be, I’d have to say. We left Liz’s fellow assistants because we had an appointment to meet Pierre at Pigalle, which is right near Montmartre. Liz and I wanted to buy scarfs before meeting up with him, so we made the hike up through the hills until we found the shop we had visited previously. We purchased what we wanted and then went back to the metro station where Pierre was waiting for us, right on time. (Thank goodness!) We had a nice drink with him and we reminisced about the “good old Miami days”. Of course, I teased him about anything like I always do. It was just nice to see one of my French friends in Paris. We parted in the metro, with a promise to get together again soon. Liz and I headed home so that we could get ready for Nuit Blanche! I wanted to wear a dress (I was in a dressy mood) but I opted for jeans and my striped tube top and my new scarf. I also opted to wear my high heels. What a dumb decision when you’re walking in Paris. It was somewhat cold that night, but we managed to find a nice restaurant not too far from the Centre Pompidou. Liz had a calzone and tiramisu; Mickel had a seafood appetizer, rabbit as his dinner, chocolate cake and coffee!!; I had small raviolis in a cream sauce for an appetizer, home cut french fry wedges (they were so good!) and chocolate ice cream. Afterwards, we headed towards the Louvre, where there was a lot of commotion. Apparently, France had won their game of rugby and everyone was in the street yelling or singing. Many cars and scooters were honking their horns and displaying the French flag. It was certainly crazy. We ended up meeting again with Lorna and we all walked to the Eiffel Tower, which was lit up, but every 5 mins before and after the hour, the Eiffel Tower has a light display that makes it look glittery/sparkly. We stayed at the Eiffel Tower until people started leaving and we tried to take the RER but it was closed, so we had to walk to Bir Hakim to take the metro home. I had to take off my shoes because my poor feet were killing me! I decided that I was disappointed with the Nuit Blanche because supposedly there were supposed to be great parties going on, but nothing much seemed to be different or we just couldn’t find them. The Louvre was open late to people, but it was so crowded that it was worth trying to enter. I was glad when Mickel and I were home. After making some calls to his family in Costa Rica, he and I talked until late in the morning.
Saturday, November 17, 2007
Try To Relax = Make Dinner For Your Friends
5 Octobre 2007
Today, I had no classes to teach, because my teacher (Rozenn Etienne) was sick. I tried to meet up with some of the English profs who were in so that I could talk to them about what exactly they wanted me to do for their classes. They felt like I was freaking out or too worried and they said that they would provide me with prompts or documents to work with. This still didn’t help, especially when I already felt confused from the training the previous day before. One of my teachers’ also made a comment about how I should relax like my roommate because he wasn’t getting “worked up”. What I had to point out to her was that Mickel already received instruction in Costa Rica on how to prep himself for the French classroom. She apologized and said that she would help me in whatever way I needed. I still feel confused on what my actual role is. I want to do a good job and I don’t want to walk away at the end of the year and have the teachers think I did a poor job. I don’t know why but this concerns me. I wish that they could understand that this is just how I function. Liz came over and we went for a walk. I had her and Mickel (during the day before) that I wanted to make dinner for them this evening. While on our walk, I bought some cute little chocolates for dessert from a little chocolatier (chocolate shop) near my home. Later in the evening, Liz, Mickel and I went to the library (again!) to check our emails. While I was there, I had put my keys in my backpack, because entrance to the library is first done through a metal detector. When we were getting ready to go, I started looking though my bag for my keys to put in my pockets. I started to become panicked because I couldn’t find them. I remembered that during my visit that there was a public service announcement, letting people know that pit pockets were functioning in the library and to keep bags off the floor. I kept my backpack on the desk the whole time and didn’t remember anyone coming near me or my bag. Then I thought that maybe one of the security guards who had checked my bag, had maybe knocked the keys out and had them for me. We asked one and he said he had no keys. That’s when I freaked out. I started crying and saying that I was going to have to replace the keys. (And my keys are expensive! 50€ for just the key to the salle des profs/classrooms alone!) After Mickel helped me look through my bag, I found them hidden in a pocket that they had slipped into. I felt SO stupid and idiotic that I got so worked up. I wanted to melt into the floor right then and there. The security guards gave me a hard time (but only in jest). I didn’t feel like I could walk back into the library again. The three of us returned home, where I made dinner (a nice pasta dish with mushrooms and olives, bread, green beans) and dessert (chocolates). At least the dinner was nice.
Today, I had no classes to teach, because my teacher (Rozenn Etienne) was sick. I tried to meet up with some of the English profs who were in so that I could talk to them about what exactly they wanted me to do for their classes. They felt like I was freaking out or too worried and they said that they would provide me with prompts or documents to work with. This still didn’t help, especially when I already felt confused from the training the previous day before. One of my teachers’ also made a comment about how I should relax like my roommate because he wasn’t getting “worked up”. What I had to point out to her was that Mickel already received instruction in Costa Rica on how to prep himself for the French classroom. She apologized and said that she would help me in whatever way I needed. I still feel confused on what my actual role is. I want to do a good job and I don’t want to walk away at the end of the year and have the teachers think I did a poor job. I don’t know why but this concerns me. I wish that they could understand that this is just how I function. Liz came over and we went for a walk. I had her and Mickel (during the day before) that I wanted to make dinner for them this evening. While on our walk, I bought some cute little chocolates for dessert from a little chocolatier (chocolate shop) near my home. Later in the evening, Liz, Mickel and I went to the library (again!) to check our emails. While I was there, I had put my keys in my backpack, because entrance to the library is first done through a metal detector. When we were getting ready to go, I started looking though my bag for my keys to put in my pockets. I started to become panicked because I couldn’t find them. I remembered that during my visit that there was a public service announcement, letting people know that pit pockets were functioning in the library and to keep bags off the floor. I kept my backpack on the desk the whole time and didn’t remember anyone coming near me or my bag. Then I thought that maybe one of the security guards who had checked my bag, had maybe knocked the keys out and had them for me. We asked one and he said he had no keys. That’s when I freaked out. I started crying and saying that I was going to have to replace the keys. (And my keys are expensive! 50€ for just the key to the salle des profs/classrooms alone!) After Mickel helped me look through my bag, I found them hidden in a pocket that they had slipped into. I felt SO stupid and idiotic that I got so worked up. I wanted to melt into the floor right then and there. The security guards gave me a hard time (but only in jest). I didn’t feel like I could walk back into the library again. The three of us returned home, where I made dinner (a nice pasta dish with mushrooms and olives, bread, green beans) and dessert (chocolates). At least the dinner was nice.
Another Stupid Meeting!
4 Octobre 2007
Today, I have another meeting with some of the English assistants, only this time, the meeting consists of the assistants who work in my département, which is Val et Marne (94). I had to ride the RER A again, only this time I took it south and got off at Joinville-le-Pont. Then I had to ride the bus 108/110 until the stop JB Clement, which fortunately, is right in front of our school where we are to meet. I had a slight snafu on the bus; since I only bought a ticket for the RER, mine didn’t work. Fortunately, the bus driver still let me on. There were about 20-25 students, most coming from England/UK or USA. It was nice to meet with them, but honestly, the meeting was a complete bore. It was supposed to be a training session with two teachers on how to teach or improve French students’ English. I just felt more confused by the end of the day. The nicest parts of the meeting were actually getting to talk with some of the assistants, although I never really “bonded” with one person. Once the meeting was over, we received a contact list of everyone’s emails and phone numbers so we could talk with one another. We headed back to the bus stop and managed to get our entire group onto one bus, but it was crowded throughout our ride back to the RER station. (And of course, the bus driver still let me on with my bad ticket.) By the time I got to the station, I realized that someone had stolen my Coach umbrella, that I received a few years previously and of course, I was pissed off! Already I was feeling frustrated and confused about the training, but now this made me even more upset because I felt like someone who had been taken advantage of. I had to buy another RER ticket to get home, only this time, the RER didn’t stop at Vincennes and went directly to Nation, which is a station on line 1 (remember this line because it’s the one you might be riding if you come visit me!!!). I got of the RER and went to take the metro but my ticket wouldn’t let me on the metro or even out of the station. Out of desperation, I went to a help counter with my ticket, and in my best French, I ask why my ticket wouldn’t work. I could tell that the woman behind the counter really felt bad for me and she told me to take the RER A again heading towards Marne la Vallée and that it would drop me off at Vincennes. I thanked her for her help and, after a couple frustrating minutes of trying to find the direction, I was back on the right RER and heading home. Overall, what a crappy way to spend the day. When I got back to Vincennes, I went to the salle des profs and Mickel was there. He asked me what was wrong and tried to cheer me up when I told him I had a bad day. I’m lucky to have such a nice roommate.
Today, I have another meeting with some of the English assistants, only this time, the meeting consists of the assistants who work in my département, which is Val et Marne (94). I had to ride the RER A again, only this time I took it south and got off at Joinville-le-Pont. Then I had to ride the bus 108/110 until the stop JB Clement, which fortunately, is right in front of our school where we are to meet. I had a slight snafu on the bus; since I only bought a ticket for the RER, mine didn’t work. Fortunately, the bus driver still let me on. There were about 20-25 students, most coming from England/UK or USA. It was nice to meet with them, but honestly, the meeting was a complete bore. It was supposed to be a training session with two teachers on how to teach or improve French students’ English. I just felt more confused by the end of the day. The nicest parts of the meeting were actually getting to talk with some of the assistants, although I never really “bonded” with one person. Once the meeting was over, we received a contact list of everyone’s emails and phone numbers so we could talk with one another. We headed back to the bus stop and managed to get our entire group onto one bus, but it was crowded throughout our ride back to the RER station. (And of course, the bus driver still let me on with my bad ticket.) By the time I got to the station, I realized that someone had stolen my Coach umbrella, that I received a few years previously and of course, I was pissed off! Already I was feeling frustrated and confused about the training, but now this made me even more upset because I felt like someone who had been taken advantage of. I had to buy another RER ticket to get home, only this time, the RER didn’t stop at Vincennes and went directly to Nation, which is a station on line 1 (remember this line because it’s the one you might be riding if you come visit me!!!). I got of the RER and went to take the metro but my ticket wouldn’t let me on the metro or even out of the station. Out of desperation, I went to a help counter with my ticket, and in my best French, I ask why my ticket wouldn’t work. I could tell that the woman behind the counter really felt bad for me and she told me to take the RER A again heading towards Marne la Vallée and that it would drop me off at Vincennes. I thanked her for her help and, after a couple frustrating minutes of trying to find the direction, I was back on the right RER and heading home. Overall, what a crappy way to spend the day. When I got back to Vincennes, I went to the salle des profs and Mickel was there. He asked me what was wrong and tried to cheer me up when I told him I had a bad day. I’m lucky to have such a nice roommate.
See, Going To The Grocery Store Can Be An Adventure...
3 Octobre 2007
Today, Serge made an agreement with Mickel to take us to the grocery store, Carrefour, which apparently has cheaper prices that Monoprix. Go figure that I wouldn’t learn this until later. Of course, I had already made arrangements with Liz to get together before going to the library, so Liz got to come along with us. Serge and I rode in the front, Mickel and Liz in the back. When we got to Carrefour, there is special parking under the building, because the grocery store is located inside a centre commercial (smaller mall). When Serge found his spot, he let us out before he parked and we all noticed a heavy urine smell. Mickel made a joke that we would be able to find the car with our noses. We had to get our grocery carts near the garage and they are taken up large mechanical ramps, like the kind you walk on at the airport. After walking around the grocery store for about an hour, Mickel and I found our things and proceeded to check out. For my things, I paid about 44€, which doesn’t seem like a lot based on how much I purchased, but when converted into dollars, it is very expensive. (Thank goodness I’m getting a good exchange to send money back to the US.) Since Serge’s car isn’t very big, we were kind of worried about how we were going to fit all the food into the car, if we found the car. We ended up wandering around the parking lot for a good 20 mins before we found the car. And of course, it had that horrible pee smell we remembered. I was laughing so hard at everything that everyone else started laughing. Once we were all packed into the car, Serge put on some of his favorite music, which included an American jazz singer he loves. He was singing her songs (in English), so I asked him if he understood the lyrics. He said he understood just a little, but honestly, it was so funny to watch this older man sing! He loves jazz music and loves the fact that I like jazz music too. How sweet. While bringing up the groceries, Serge invited Mickel over to have a beer and Liz and I went to the library so we could check our email. I also had an appointment to meet the family that had asked me to be a babysitter for them. Liz accompanied me on this trip, since I didn’t know the neighborhood too well. Luc and Laurence Porta have two children: Gaël (4.5 yrs) and Maïwenn (2.5 yrs). Luc is fluent in English and would like his children to be also. They have asked me to baby-sit for them from 5:30 until 6:45-7, when Laurence returns from work. My only goal is to help the children practice their English by speaking with them. They are willing to pay me 10€ an hour, which will be a nice addition to my income. They children seem nice and they are glad that I can come up to 4 days a week. I admit I’m kind of scared because sometimes I can’t tell what they are saying but the parents admit that even they can’t tell what the kids say because they are so young and Maïwenn is still learning to speak in French. After a successful appointment, I promise to give them an answer by the end of the weekend and Liz and I return to our homes. When I get back to the apartment, Mickel is still out with Serge. A few minutes later, he comes in and tells me that we are having dinner with Serge and his family. I greet them, including Natalie, and we sit down to dinner, which consists of still-bloody hamburger patties and fries. It tasted good, but for those of you who really know me, I hate bloody meat! During the meal, Natalie’s boyfriend joins us and right after the meal, he and Natalie leave the table because Natalie has to study for her driving test, which happens to be tomorrow. Mickel and I stay with Serge and his wife, who serve us dessert and coffee (which makes Mickel very happy). We talk about Brittany and his house there and Serge gets out a book with pictures of Brittany. I talk about wanting to go there and also to Normandy (which is just north of Brittany), Mont-Saint-Michel, going to Normandy beach and tasting fresh made calvados (apple liqueur, known to that region). Serge then offers me some very nice calvados that he has at home. I added it to my coffee, which gives it a nice taste. After finishing our coffee, Serge gives us each a French shot glass (much larger than American ones) and gives us straight calvados to drink. It was very strong, compared to when I had it in my coffee, but it tastes good and felt warm as it went down my throat. Serge offered to take us to Brittany for a vacation with him and his family. He even offered to take me to the places I have asked to go visit. He is a nice guy. The subject changes to music and I retrieved my laptop, because of course, I have some well-known French music we’ve been discussing. Serge is impressed with my music collection. It was getting late, so Mickel and I prepared to leave. As I went to shake Serge’s hand, he took it but instead kissed my hand, like a gentleman with a lady. Of course, I smiled (and probably blushed) and we went into our apartment. I’m lucky to have such nice neighbors!
Today, Serge made an agreement with Mickel to take us to the grocery store, Carrefour, which apparently has cheaper prices that Monoprix. Go figure that I wouldn’t learn this until later. Of course, I had already made arrangements with Liz to get together before going to the library, so Liz got to come along with us. Serge and I rode in the front, Mickel and Liz in the back. When we got to Carrefour, there is special parking under the building, because the grocery store is located inside a centre commercial (smaller mall). When Serge found his spot, he let us out before he parked and we all noticed a heavy urine smell. Mickel made a joke that we would be able to find the car with our noses. We had to get our grocery carts near the garage and they are taken up large mechanical ramps, like the kind you walk on at the airport. After walking around the grocery store for about an hour, Mickel and I found our things and proceeded to check out. For my things, I paid about 44€, which doesn’t seem like a lot based on how much I purchased, but when converted into dollars, it is very expensive. (Thank goodness I’m getting a good exchange to send money back to the US.) Since Serge’s car isn’t very big, we were kind of worried about how we were going to fit all the food into the car, if we found the car. We ended up wandering around the parking lot for a good 20 mins before we found the car. And of course, it had that horrible pee smell we remembered. I was laughing so hard at everything that everyone else started laughing. Once we were all packed into the car, Serge put on some of his favorite music, which included an American jazz singer he loves. He was singing her songs (in English), so I asked him if he understood the lyrics. He said he understood just a little, but honestly, it was so funny to watch this older man sing! He loves jazz music and loves the fact that I like jazz music too. How sweet. While bringing up the groceries, Serge invited Mickel over to have a beer and Liz and I went to the library so we could check our email. I also had an appointment to meet the family that had asked me to be a babysitter for them. Liz accompanied me on this trip, since I didn’t know the neighborhood too well. Luc and Laurence Porta have two children: Gaël (4.5 yrs) and Maïwenn (2.5 yrs). Luc is fluent in English and would like his children to be also. They have asked me to baby-sit for them from 5:30 until 6:45-7, when Laurence returns from work. My only goal is to help the children practice their English by speaking with them. They are willing to pay me 10€ an hour, which will be a nice addition to my income. They children seem nice and they are glad that I can come up to 4 days a week. I admit I’m kind of scared because sometimes I can’t tell what they are saying but the parents admit that even they can’t tell what the kids say because they are so young and Maïwenn is still learning to speak in French. After a successful appointment, I promise to give them an answer by the end of the weekend and Liz and I return to our homes. When I get back to the apartment, Mickel is still out with Serge. A few minutes later, he comes in and tells me that we are having dinner with Serge and his family. I greet them, including Natalie, and we sit down to dinner, which consists of still-bloody hamburger patties and fries. It tasted good, but for those of you who really know me, I hate bloody meat! During the meal, Natalie’s boyfriend joins us and right after the meal, he and Natalie leave the table because Natalie has to study for her driving test, which happens to be tomorrow. Mickel and I stay with Serge and his wife, who serve us dessert and coffee (which makes Mickel very happy). We talk about Brittany and his house there and Serge gets out a book with pictures of Brittany. I talk about wanting to go there and also to Normandy (which is just north of Brittany), Mont-Saint-Michel, going to Normandy beach and tasting fresh made calvados (apple liqueur, known to that region). Serge then offers me some very nice calvados that he has at home. I added it to my coffee, which gives it a nice taste. After finishing our coffee, Serge gives us each a French shot glass (much larger than American ones) and gives us straight calvados to drink. It was very strong, compared to when I had it in my coffee, but it tastes good and felt warm as it went down my throat. Serge offered to take us to Brittany for a vacation with him and his family. He even offered to take me to the places I have asked to go visit. He is a nice guy. The subject changes to music and I retrieved my laptop, because of course, I have some well-known French music we’ve been discussing. Serge is impressed with my music collection. It was getting late, so Mickel and I prepared to leave. As I went to shake Serge’s hand, he took it but instead kissed my hand, like a gentleman with a lady. Of course, I smiled (and probably blushed) and we went into our apartment. I’m lucky to have such nice neighbors!
Questioning The Foreigner.
2 Octobre 2007
I had my first classes today. Pretty much, I just introduced myself and the students were supposed to ask me questions. This is nice because they can be curious and inquisitive about the US and what Americans think about France and the French. I am frequently asked what I think about Nicolas Sarkozy (new French president) or George Bush or Michael Moore and his films or French food. Other questions included: Do I like French guys? Do I have a boyfriend? Am I married? What American sports or sports teams do I like? Have I been to Paris? What do I like in France? Do we have metros where I live? Where do I live in France? What kind of guys do you like? Are you a vegetarian? What are my favorite movies? (French or American?) What do I think about the French? Do Americans like the French? What stereotypes exist in the US about France? Do I plan to travel while I’m here visiting? Why did I want to come to France in the first place? What do I want to become? (career) Do I have to finish studies when I return to the US? Which do I prefer more: France or US? What kind of music do I like? Why did I study so many languages? Do I have any siblings? What do my parents do? Do I have any pets? If it weren’t so amusing, I’d almost feel like I was in front of the Inquisition in smaller groups. I am looking forward to working with these groups. In the evening, I was looking forward to going to the library with Liz and Mickel. But apparently I wouldn’t be going any other Tuesday night, because every Tuesday, they’re closed! The three of us about cried! (I know; we’re that desperate!) We ventured to the McD’s that was just down the street from the library, hoping that we could pick up a signal. Eventually, we got a really weak one and we each bought dinner so that the staff didn’t think we were loitering like the homeless do. Liz and I decided to try and move closer to the library, so that next time, we could determine if sitting next to building would give us a better signal.
I had my first classes today. Pretty much, I just introduced myself and the students were supposed to ask me questions. This is nice because they can be curious and inquisitive about the US and what Americans think about France and the French. I am frequently asked what I think about Nicolas Sarkozy (new French president) or George Bush or Michael Moore and his films or French food. Other questions included: Do I like French guys? Do I have a boyfriend? Am I married? What American sports or sports teams do I like? Have I been to Paris? What do I like in France? Do we have metros where I live? Where do I live in France? What kind of guys do you like? Are you a vegetarian? What are my favorite movies? (French or American?) What do I think about the French? Do Americans like the French? What stereotypes exist in the US about France? Do I plan to travel while I’m here visiting? Why did I want to come to France in the first place? What do I want to become? (career) Do I have to finish studies when I return to the US? Which do I prefer more: France or US? What kind of music do I like? Why did I study so many languages? Do I have any siblings? What do my parents do? Do I have any pets? If it weren’t so amusing, I’d almost feel like I was in front of the Inquisition in smaller groups. I am looking forward to working with these groups. In the evening, I was looking forward to going to the library with Liz and Mickel. But apparently I wouldn’t be going any other Tuesday night, because every Tuesday, they’re closed! The three of us about cried! (I know; we’re that desperate!) We ventured to the McD’s that was just down the street from the library, hoping that we could pick up a signal. Eventually, we got a really weak one and we each bought dinner so that the staff didn’t think we were loitering like the homeless do. Liz and I decided to try and move closer to the library, so that next time, we could determine if sitting next to building would give us a better signal.
Buying Tickets For the RER Is A Pain! and I Can Finally Get Internet Access...Of Some Kind
1 Octobre 2007
So, today I had to go to Noissy-Champs, which is a few RER A stops away from Vincennes. The bad thing about my meeting is that I had to go early in the morning and there was such a long line of people to renew their monthly passes! Unfortunately, I had forgotten to get change and I had to run somewhere to buy something quickly, so I could buy a ticket. Ended up that I bought a ticket for the metro and that wasn’t meant for the RER! I was so pissed about being late and not being able to buy the right ticket that I ran through the open gate (meant for people with strollers or large suitcases exiting the station). I felt like a rebel, but a late rebel who was frustrated! I got onto the right RER, fortunately, because my stop at Vincennes, splits into two passages and I had to take the passage heading east instead of south. Once I got off at my exit, a girl saw me and asked if I was here for the assistant meeting. I told her yes and we introduced ourselves and I found out her name was Kate and that she had been to Paris last year, but as a student in college. She told me she was living with a family in the 7th in their very tiny room known in the past as the maid’s quarters. (Basically, it’s one of those 9m2 studios, where if there are more than two people in the room, it’s crowded.) We started looking for the meeting (because the directions weren’t clear…no surprise) and we were eventually joined by some other assistants. After wandering around a bit, we finally found our location and ended up only being like 30 mins late, which wasn’t a big deal as the meeting hadn’t even started yet as they figured people would be late. (How kind.) After two and a half hours, I was more confused and frustrated than before I came. This is because they discussed the documents we received in the US and told us that we were to have brought them to this meeting to drop off. I told them I already resent the documents back to France, as the original letter said they had to be resent. Grrrrr….they make it more difficult that it has to be!!! Kate and I left together for the RER A and when she found out that I had to buy a ticket, she recommended that I get a Navigo Pass (a personal pass that can be used monthly or weekly) to get around on all the metros, trains and RERs that run in Paris. We got on the metro and exchanged information. I invited her to hang out with us for the Nuit Blanche, which was coming up. Later in the evening, I waited for Liz to come back from her meeting (mine was 9-12, hers was 2-5). I agreed to meet her at her apartment around 7-7:30 and we were going to go to the library together. We took the exit that Naomi told us to take (Châtelet) but we got lots, so I asked a police officer where it was located. We finally found it and sure enough, there was free wifi access, but the catch is that you can only access it for 90 mins. Another downside is that not all of the tables have electricity or plugs, so my battery might die after a little over an hour. But hey, it is free Internet access after all. And trust me, even here in beautiful Paris, I feel deprived without it.
So, today I had to go to Noissy-Champs, which is a few RER A stops away from Vincennes. The bad thing about my meeting is that I had to go early in the morning and there was such a long line of people to renew their monthly passes! Unfortunately, I had forgotten to get change and I had to run somewhere to buy something quickly, so I could buy a ticket. Ended up that I bought a ticket for the metro and that wasn’t meant for the RER! I was so pissed about being late and not being able to buy the right ticket that I ran through the open gate (meant for people with strollers or large suitcases exiting the station). I felt like a rebel, but a late rebel who was frustrated! I got onto the right RER, fortunately, because my stop at Vincennes, splits into two passages and I had to take the passage heading east instead of south. Once I got off at my exit, a girl saw me and asked if I was here for the assistant meeting. I told her yes and we introduced ourselves and I found out her name was Kate and that she had been to Paris last year, but as a student in college. She told me she was living with a family in the 7th in their very tiny room known in the past as the maid’s quarters. (Basically, it’s one of those 9m2 studios, where if there are more than two people in the room, it’s crowded.) We started looking for the meeting (because the directions weren’t clear…no surprise) and we were eventually joined by some other assistants. After wandering around a bit, we finally found our location and ended up only being like 30 mins late, which wasn’t a big deal as the meeting hadn’t even started yet as they figured people would be late. (How kind.) After two and a half hours, I was more confused and frustrated than before I came. This is because they discussed the documents we received in the US and told us that we were to have brought them to this meeting to drop off. I told them I already resent the documents back to France, as the original letter said they had to be resent. Grrrrr….they make it more difficult that it has to be!!! Kate and I left together for the RER A and when she found out that I had to buy a ticket, she recommended that I get a Navigo Pass (a personal pass that can be used monthly or weekly) to get around on all the metros, trains and RERs that run in Paris. We got on the metro and exchanged information. I invited her to hang out with us for the Nuit Blanche, which was coming up. Later in the evening, I waited for Liz to come back from her meeting (mine was 9-12, hers was 2-5). I agreed to meet her at her apartment around 7-7:30 and we were going to go to the library together. We took the exit that Naomi told us to take (Châtelet) but we got lots, so I asked a police officer where it was located. We finally found it and sure enough, there was free wifi access, but the catch is that you can only access it for 90 mins. Another downside is that not all of the tables have electricity or plugs, so my battery might die after a little over an hour. But hey, it is free Internet access after all. And trust me, even here in beautiful Paris, I feel deprived without it.
A Lazy Parisian Afternoon
30 Septembre 2007
I meet up with Liz at around 11. I was so happy to see her (she’s becoming a staple in my new French life) and I naturally asked her about her first night with Naomi. She said it was good, that Naomi bought pizza (how funny!!) and that she liked living with her, despite the size of the apartment, especially because she could practice her French. Turns out that Naomi has been living in Paris for awhile, but she is originally from Reunion, a French territory near Africa. She is a student who is looking for a full-time job. She’s also a great resource for Liz, because she has given us advice on getting Internet access. She told Liz that the library at the Centre Pompidou has free wifi access, so Liz and I agreed to check it out tomorrow, after our English assistant meetings during the day. I wanted to go see the site of Napoleon’s tomb, so we went to the Hôtel des Invalides, which also happens to have the Musée de l’Armée. We purchased student tickets and went through the museum first, which houses numerous suits of armor, swords, old-fashioned guns, etc. The second part of the museum, which was going through an update, was for the World Wars. This is especially interesting to view, because it was almost like France’s take on the war and Liz and I were viewing it from our countries’ perspectives. After walking throughout the entire museum, with the exception of the current additional-charge exhibition (titled “Love, Sex and War”), we went into the military church, which has a transparent wall, through which one can see into the location of Napoleon’s tomb. However, to enter the place where Napoleon is buried and actually see his tomb, you have to go around the outside and in through a separate entrance. Once inside, his huge tomb (for such a small man) is located in the center and is surrounded by female guardians who watch over him. There are some other tombs here, such as his nephew (Napoleon III) and other military leaders who died. The exhibit also has some of Napoleon’s memorabilia, like his hat and coat, seen in many pictures that portrait him. After leaving the museum, Liz and I decided that we wanted something to eat, so walked around in Paris until we came to the Champs-Élysées and we bought some sandwiches. We sat on a park bench, under all the trees, and we ate and talked and people watched for a few hours. Honestly, it was nice doing nothing special. I enjoyed watching all the couples walk by or the little kids. After sitting as long as we wanted, I wanted to go see the famous Georges V hotel, which is just off of the Champs-Élysées. While walking there, I got a craving for Haagen-Dazs, and there happens to be one of their biggest ice cream stores here, so I went in and I got a two-scoop (deux boules): Cookies and Cream and Chocolate Carmel Delight. Of course, it was so good! The worst thing about the whole situation though (who’d have thought that getting ice cream could go bad?) was that the seating area outside and the inside of the store was packed! And it top it off, these three older French ladies cut in front of me and the 20 others behind me in line to get their ice cream cones. I had been tolerant of the French and their habits up until this moment, but when they proceeded to behave as thought the rest of us weren’t there and take forever to make their choices, I purposefully acted up to make them feel guilty. This got the attention of one of the workers and it got me my ice cream sooner and cheaper, and I was able to pay before the old ladies (cows, as Liz called them). When Liz and I were walking out, we saw a waiter bringing huge, yummy looking sundaes out to the people sitting in the “dining area” and we decided that one of these days, we were going to come back here and get a dessert just like that! We continued to walk along the Champs-Élysées until we found the street where the Georges V was located, and once we found it, it looked amazing, just as its reputation claims. Outside of the hotel, luxury cars and limos wait for leaving guests to take them wherever they want to go. The ambiance was incredible and of course, it made me think of my good friend Diane and one of our favorite movies, French Kiss. The sad thing about it is that my camera’s battery had died and I couldn’t take a picture! I’m going to return there, if just to take the picture! Liz wanted to go back to the Disney Store, so she could look for the High School Musical 2 soundtrack in French. The store was of course crazy because it was a Sunday, so we didn’t stay there very long. It was getting to be about 6:30, so Liz and I decided to return to our homes. When I got back to the apartment, Mickel wasn’t there, so I decided to take a nap. He woke me up about an hour later and we ended up talking until the middle of night! I had to stop the conversation because I have a meeting tomorrow morning outside of Vincennes, in which all the non-European Union English assistants have to attend.
I meet up with Liz at around 11. I was so happy to see her (she’s becoming a staple in my new French life) and I naturally asked her about her first night with Naomi. She said it was good, that Naomi bought pizza (how funny!!) and that she liked living with her, despite the size of the apartment, especially because she could practice her French. Turns out that Naomi has been living in Paris for awhile, but she is originally from Reunion, a French territory near Africa. She is a student who is looking for a full-time job. She’s also a great resource for Liz, because she has given us advice on getting Internet access. She told Liz that the library at the Centre Pompidou has free wifi access, so Liz and I agreed to check it out tomorrow, after our English assistant meetings during the day. I wanted to go see the site of Napoleon’s tomb, so we went to the Hôtel des Invalides, which also happens to have the Musée de l’Armée. We purchased student tickets and went through the museum first, which houses numerous suits of armor, swords, old-fashioned guns, etc. The second part of the museum, which was going through an update, was for the World Wars. This is especially interesting to view, because it was almost like France’s take on the war and Liz and I were viewing it from our countries’ perspectives. After walking throughout the entire museum, with the exception of the current additional-charge exhibition (titled “Love, Sex and War”), we went into the military church, which has a transparent wall, through which one can see into the location of Napoleon’s tomb. However, to enter the place where Napoleon is buried and actually see his tomb, you have to go around the outside and in through a separate entrance. Once inside, his huge tomb (for such a small man) is located in the center and is surrounded by female guardians who watch over him. There are some other tombs here, such as his nephew (Napoleon III) and other military leaders who died. The exhibit also has some of Napoleon’s memorabilia, like his hat and coat, seen in many pictures that portrait him. After leaving the museum, Liz and I decided that we wanted something to eat, so walked around in Paris until we came to the Champs-Élysées and we bought some sandwiches. We sat on a park bench, under all the trees, and we ate and talked and people watched for a few hours. Honestly, it was nice doing nothing special. I enjoyed watching all the couples walk by or the little kids. After sitting as long as we wanted, I wanted to go see the famous Georges V hotel, which is just off of the Champs-Élysées. While walking there, I got a craving for Haagen-Dazs, and there happens to be one of their biggest ice cream stores here, so I went in and I got a two-scoop (deux boules): Cookies and Cream and Chocolate Carmel Delight. Of course, it was so good! The worst thing about the whole situation though (who’d have thought that getting ice cream could go bad?) was that the seating area outside and the inside of the store was packed! And it top it off, these three older French ladies cut in front of me and the 20 others behind me in line to get their ice cream cones. I had been tolerant of the French and their habits up until this moment, but when they proceeded to behave as thought the rest of us weren’t there and take forever to make their choices, I purposefully acted up to make them feel guilty. This got the attention of one of the workers and it got me my ice cream sooner and cheaper, and I was able to pay before the old ladies (cows, as Liz called them). When Liz and I were walking out, we saw a waiter bringing huge, yummy looking sundaes out to the people sitting in the “dining area” and we decided that one of these days, we were going to come back here and get a dessert just like that! We continued to walk along the Champs-Élysées until we found the street where the Georges V was located, and once we found it, it looked amazing, just as its reputation claims. Outside of the hotel, luxury cars and limos wait for leaving guests to take them wherever they want to go. The ambiance was incredible and of course, it made me think of my good friend Diane and one of our favorite movies, French Kiss. The sad thing about it is that my camera’s battery had died and I couldn’t take a picture! I’m going to return there, if just to take the picture! Liz wanted to go back to the Disney Store, so she could look for the High School Musical 2 soundtrack in French. The store was of course crazy because it was a Sunday, so we didn’t stay there very long. It was getting to be about 6:30, so Liz and I decided to return to our homes. When I got back to the apartment, Mickel wasn’t there, so I decided to take a nap. He woke me up about an hour later and we ended up talking until the middle of night! I had to stop the conversation because I have a meeting tomorrow morning outside of Vincennes, in which all the non-European Union English assistants have to attend.
Just When I Thought Life Was Going To Get A Little Easier....And I Was Still Able To Have A Nice Evening
29 Septembre 2007
I went to the school early this morning to check my email, and while I was away, my package (with my SIM card) came. Unfortunately, the facteur (mailperson) doesn’t check with the residence before leaving. Instead, they brought it to the school, where the gardien told them that he didn’t have permission to accept it! I about gave birth to a cow, because I was so distraught that I was going to have to wait longer to get my things from the States! The gardien suggested that I try at the post office and see if I could still get my package today. He also said he would call them on Monday to let them know that the facteur can leave any future packages with him. I went to post office and the woman behind the counter tried to explain to me that I couldn’t get my package today and that I would have to wait until re-delivery. Unfortunately, my French postal vocabulary is limited, so all I felt was frustrated and confused. Liz helped explain some of what she was saying but it still didn’t replace my anger over missing my package. In France, the facteur attempts to deliver your package up to two times. If you aren’t there the first time, he keeps it with him (where, I have no clue) and then attempts a redelivery. If you aren’t there the second time, he leaves a notice and you must take your ID to the post office, where it waits for you to pick it up. You might be asking yourself, why did the gardien know about the package? Or why did the facteur even take the package to the school? I think that the facteur took the package to the school because he/she knew that all the admins live in my building and I was receiving an international package. Disappointed, I returned home, where Liz wanted to go back to the Internet café we had visited yesterday. Mickel asked if he could join us and the three of us went to check our email. After checking emails, we returned to a station near our home (Porte de Vincennes), where we would meet with Marie to see the apartment. (Mickel decided he was also going to come too.) Just after 2, we meet a nice, young black girl named Naomi (Marie is her middle name) and she took us to her apartment, which happened to be just around the corner. The neighborhood was pretty nice as was the apartment, but it was also very small. There was only one bedroom to share, with a bed in one corner and a mattress in the other. After looking it over, Liz decided to accept the offer to share the apartment, because her options of finding somewhere to live were running out. She agreed to move in later that night. Since we didn’t have anything planned, I asked Mickel and Liz if they wanted to go with me back to Notre Dame, because the crypts of Paris were located there. They agreed and we went to a museum which is located underground, because it contains the original archaeological sites of the origin of Paris, which used to be called Lutèce, some of which date back to the 1st century and even before Christ was born! It wasn’t a very big museum and fortunately, it only cost us 3€ to get in. Liz asked if we could go back to Richelieu Drouot, so she could get some Starbucks. I initially wanted some ice cream from Haagen-Dazs, but once we got there, I felt so dizzy and a little shaky, so instead, I had some chicken nuggets and French fries (haha!) at my first French McDonald’s. Mickel ate some lunch with me, since he was hungry too. And too be honest, I’ve eaten at other international McDonald’s before, but this one was pretty close to what we expect from McDonald’s in the States. The only things different that they offer is that they have French fries (just called fries) and potato wedges, as well as different salads, like ones with salmon. We returned home so that Liz could pack up her few things and just rested until it was time to take her to her new “home”. Mickel and I packed some of our food for her, so she would have a few things to eat that evening. We dropped her off around 7:30. I was a little sad to have to her leave, but we agreed to meet up at her metro station the following day around 11 to go out and have some fun. Mickel and I returned to Vincennes, where we took a nice evening walk and talked about the “rules of the house” as well as about ourselves, our families, our histories. Basically, lots and lots of talking and agreeing on sharing things (like toilet paper, etc) in OUR apartment. It was getting late and we were getting hungry. Mickel really wanted pizza but since I had eaten that the night before, we looked around Vincennes to see if there was anything else to take. Ironically, most of the restaurants in Vincennes are Italian (in France?) and so he selected one that didn’t look too expensive. He treated me to pasta, which I choose Gorgonzola (very good), he took a four cheese pizza (also ironic??) and some red wine. With the ambience of the restaurant and all the surrounding couples, it honestly felt like I was on an awkward date. For dessert, he chose an ice cream plate, which had vanilla and coffee flavored ice creams that also came with a shot of amaretto. I ate the vanilla, he ate the coffee, and we shared the shot of amaretto. After having coffee, we returned home and watched a movie. Another nice evening, I must say.
I went to the school early this morning to check my email, and while I was away, my package (with my SIM card) came. Unfortunately, the facteur (mailperson) doesn’t check with the residence before leaving. Instead, they brought it to the school, where the gardien told them that he didn’t have permission to accept it! I about gave birth to a cow, because I was so distraught that I was going to have to wait longer to get my things from the States! The gardien suggested that I try at the post office and see if I could still get my package today. He also said he would call them on Monday to let them know that the facteur can leave any future packages with him. I went to post office and the woman behind the counter tried to explain to me that I couldn’t get my package today and that I would have to wait until re-delivery. Unfortunately, my French postal vocabulary is limited, so all I felt was frustrated and confused. Liz helped explain some of what she was saying but it still didn’t replace my anger over missing my package. In France, the facteur attempts to deliver your package up to two times. If you aren’t there the first time, he keeps it with him (where, I have no clue) and then attempts a redelivery. If you aren’t there the second time, he leaves a notice and you must take your ID to the post office, where it waits for you to pick it up. You might be asking yourself, why did the gardien know about the package? Or why did the facteur even take the package to the school? I think that the facteur took the package to the school because he/she knew that all the admins live in my building and I was receiving an international package. Disappointed, I returned home, where Liz wanted to go back to the Internet café we had visited yesterday. Mickel asked if he could join us and the three of us went to check our email. After checking emails, we returned to a station near our home (Porte de Vincennes), where we would meet with Marie to see the apartment. (Mickel decided he was also going to come too.) Just after 2, we meet a nice, young black girl named Naomi (Marie is her middle name) and she took us to her apartment, which happened to be just around the corner. The neighborhood was pretty nice as was the apartment, but it was also very small. There was only one bedroom to share, with a bed in one corner and a mattress in the other. After looking it over, Liz decided to accept the offer to share the apartment, because her options of finding somewhere to live were running out. She agreed to move in later that night. Since we didn’t have anything planned, I asked Mickel and Liz if they wanted to go with me back to Notre Dame, because the crypts of Paris were located there. They agreed and we went to a museum which is located underground, because it contains the original archaeological sites of the origin of Paris, which used to be called Lutèce, some of which date back to the 1st century and even before Christ was born! It wasn’t a very big museum and fortunately, it only cost us 3€ to get in. Liz asked if we could go back to Richelieu Drouot, so she could get some Starbucks. I initially wanted some ice cream from Haagen-Dazs, but once we got there, I felt so dizzy and a little shaky, so instead, I had some chicken nuggets and French fries (haha!) at my first French McDonald’s. Mickel ate some lunch with me, since he was hungry too. And too be honest, I’ve eaten at other international McDonald’s before, but this one was pretty close to what we expect from McDonald’s in the States. The only things different that they offer is that they have French fries (just called fries) and potato wedges, as well as different salads, like ones with salmon. We returned home so that Liz could pack up her few things and just rested until it was time to take her to her new “home”. Mickel and I packed some of our food for her, so she would have a few things to eat that evening. We dropped her off around 7:30. I was a little sad to have to her leave, but we agreed to meet up at her metro station the following day around 11 to go out and have some fun. Mickel and I returned to Vincennes, where we took a nice evening walk and talked about the “rules of the house” as well as about ourselves, our families, our histories. Basically, lots and lots of talking and agreeing on sharing things (like toilet paper, etc) in OUR apartment. It was getting late and we were getting hungry. Mickel really wanted pizza but since I had eaten that the night before, we looked around Vincennes to see if there was anything else to take. Ironically, most of the restaurants in Vincennes are Italian (in France?) and so he selected one that didn’t look too expensive. He treated me to pasta, which I choose Gorgonzola (very good), he took a four cheese pizza (also ironic??) and some red wine. With the ambience of the restaurant and all the surrounding couples, it honestly felt like I was on an awkward date. For dessert, he chose an ice cream plate, which had vanilla and coffee flavored ice creams that also came with a shot of amaretto. I ate the vanilla, he ate the coffee, and we shared the shot of amaretto. After having coffee, we returned home and watched a movie. Another nice evening, I must say.
A Rough Start Might Just Lead To Success!
28 Septembre 2007
I’m already being scolded and I haven’t even started working yet! Liz and I went to the school this morning, as usual, to check our email and see what our day might consist of. Céline approached me in the salle des profs and told me that I wasn’t allowed to have Liz in the school since she wasn’t technically employed at our school. After explaining Liz’s situation, Céline also told me that Liz would have to move out of the apartment because my new roommate was officially here. I explained that Mickel didn’t have a problem with Liz staying with us until she found a place. Although Céline was sympathetic to Liz’s situation she wouldn’t move from her position. I went to see Serge soon after, because I wanted to see if her could help Liz out. He made some efforts to contact her school, because of the difficulty of getting into the school, as well as trying to find her somewhere to stay. I asked him if she really had to move out and he told me yes, in principal, but honestly, he didn’t have a problem with her staying if it was kept just between him, Mickel and me. I thanked him for all his assistance and went to get Liz, who was waiting outside of the school. We went to HSBC later in the afternoon to open my bank account, which I had all the necessary documents, except the attestation (verification) of employment and housing from the school. Daphné Soffer, the bank representative who was very nice with me and did her best to speak English, made copies of all my documents and told me that I could return the following week and my account would be open, provided that I return with the other necessary documents she requested. Let me just say that the French love their papers! I swear that there is paper for everything. I provided proof of employment, proof of housing insurance (wouldn’t that be proof enough for residence??), proof of identification, proof of eligibility to work in France…how much more do they need!?! Seriously. After all that, Liz wanted to go check her email again, since we still hadn’t heard anything from her school (about her first official meeting with her teacher) or from the potential roommate. We stopped at the Gare de Lyon and went to an Internet café that charges 5€ per hour for access! (At the time, we didn’t know that that was considered expensive.) Unfortunately, she had no real news, so we decided to go to Notre Dame. When we got there, it was raining and super crowded with tourists. Once inside, there was a mass going on, so Liz and I sat in on the service. I watched for awhile and then I wanted to take pictures inside, since they permit them. The most amusing thing I found, and I still don’t know why, was that they have open confessionals where the priests speak multiple languages. So if you’re in France but you speak Chinese and you feel the need to confess your sins, you can with the père (father) that speaks your language. I shouldn’t be surprised by this, but I can’t help it, it amuses me. Church for the masses. Because of Notre Dame’s layout, I had to walk around the back of the church to get all of my good pictures. By the time I was done walking around the back of the church, the mass was over! The overall ambience of the church was peaceful and honestly, I think it made Liz feel a little better, since she wasn’t having much luck so far in France. We decided to cheer ourselves up, we would go out for dinner somewhere, but we had no idea where to being looking or where to go. I had forgotten the name of the street that my airplane neighbor had suggested to me on where she liked to eat in Paris. To feel more adventurous, I randomly choose a metro station to stop at, which happened to be Richelieu Drouot, and see what there was to select from. When we got out of the metro, it felt like we hit the jackpot, because there were all sorts of recognizable places: our first Parisian Starbucks, Haagen-Dazs, KFC, McDonald’s, Subway, as well as a couple Internet cafes. We ventured around the neighborhood a bit and ended up at a super nice Italian restaurant called La Boite d’Italie. There, I had a supper tasty wood-grilled four-cheese pizza with mushrooms (of course!) and Liz had a calzone. To share, I ordered the chocolate mousse, which featured both dark and white chocolate with a drizzle of honey. What a nice meal after such a crappy day! I encouraged Liz to call the number of the woman who offered the apartment, but Liz was afraid that 9:45 was too late. After a slight bit more persuasion, Liz called from a phone box and had success! The girl, named Marie from the ad, answered and they were able to set up a time to get together to see the place. Liz asked me afterwards if I would come with her to see the place and of course, I told her I would. What an exciting evening for Liz!
I’m already being scolded and I haven’t even started working yet! Liz and I went to the school this morning, as usual, to check our email and see what our day might consist of. Céline approached me in the salle des profs and told me that I wasn’t allowed to have Liz in the school since she wasn’t technically employed at our school. After explaining Liz’s situation, Céline also told me that Liz would have to move out of the apartment because my new roommate was officially here. I explained that Mickel didn’t have a problem with Liz staying with us until she found a place. Although Céline was sympathetic to Liz’s situation she wouldn’t move from her position. I went to see Serge soon after, because I wanted to see if her could help Liz out. He made some efforts to contact her school, because of the difficulty of getting into the school, as well as trying to find her somewhere to stay. I asked him if she really had to move out and he told me yes, in principal, but honestly, he didn’t have a problem with her staying if it was kept just between him, Mickel and me. I thanked him for all his assistance and went to get Liz, who was waiting outside of the school. We went to HSBC later in the afternoon to open my bank account, which I had all the necessary documents, except the attestation (verification) of employment and housing from the school. Daphné Soffer, the bank representative who was very nice with me and did her best to speak English, made copies of all my documents and told me that I could return the following week and my account would be open, provided that I return with the other necessary documents she requested. Let me just say that the French love their papers! I swear that there is paper for everything. I provided proof of employment, proof of housing insurance (wouldn’t that be proof enough for residence??), proof of identification, proof of eligibility to work in France…how much more do they need!?! Seriously. After all that, Liz wanted to go check her email again, since we still hadn’t heard anything from her school (about her first official meeting with her teacher) or from the potential roommate. We stopped at the Gare de Lyon and went to an Internet café that charges 5€ per hour for access! (At the time, we didn’t know that that was considered expensive.) Unfortunately, she had no real news, so we decided to go to Notre Dame. When we got there, it was raining and super crowded with tourists. Once inside, there was a mass going on, so Liz and I sat in on the service. I watched for awhile and then I wanted to take pictures inside, since they permit them. The most amusing thing I found, and I still don’t know why, was that they have open confessionals where the priests speak multiple languages. So if you’re in France but you speak Chinese and you feel the need to confess your sins, you can with the père (father) that speaks your language. I shouldn’t be surprised by this, but I can’t help it, it amuses me. Church for the masses. Because of Notre Dame’s layout, I had to walk around the back of the church to get all of my good pictures. By the time I was done walking around the back of the church, the mass was over! The overall ambience of the church was peaceful and honestly, I think it made Liz feel a little better, since she wasn’t having much luck so far in France. We decided to cheer ourselves up, we would go out for dinner somewhere, but we had no idea where to being looking or where to go. I had forgotten the name of the street that my airplane neighbor had suggested to me on where she liked to eat in Paris. To feel more adventurous, I randomly choose a metro station to stop at, which happened to be Richelieu Drouot, and see what there was to select from. When we got out of the metro, it felt like we hit the jackpot, because there were all sorts of recognizable places: our first Parisian Starbucks, Haagen-Dazs, KFC, McDonald’s, Subway, as well as a couple Internet cafes. We ventured around the neighborhood a bit and ended up at a super nice Italian restaurant called La Boite d’Italie. There, I had a supper tasty wood-grilled four-cheese pizza with mushrooms (of course!) and Liz had a calzone. To share, I ordered the chocolate mousse, which featured both dark and white chocolate with a drizzle of honey. What a nice meal after such a crappy day! I encouraged Liz to call the number of the woman who offered the apartment, but Liz was afraid that 9:45 was too late. After a slight bit more persuasion, Liz called from a phone box and had success! The girl, named Marie from the ad, answered and they were able to set up a time to get together to see the place. Liz asked me afterwards if I would come with her to see the place and of course, I told her I would. What an exciting evening for Liz!
The New Roommate Moves In Today...
27 Septembre 2007
A Rainy Day In Paris and the Eiffel Tower
26 Septembre 2007
Saturday, October 13, 2007
An Amelie kind of day
25 Septembre 2007
Today, I got post from home! I was very happy to receive some cards from my family and a friend. Receiving these little things make me feel like I still have a connection with my loved ones who are far away. Early this morning, Liz and I tried to go to her school in
A new friend
24 Septembre 2007
Initially, I thought this day would be like any other. However, I got a pleasant surprise over the weekend. Liz, the girl that contacted me about rooming together, asked if she could stay with me a few days, until she found a permanent place of her own. Of course, I graciously accepted her into my place. I have been dying to have a roommate or at least some kind of visitor to prevent being alone all the time. I meet her at the metro station near my home and helped her bring her bags into my place. I allowed her time to get set up and then we ran around
Trouble with the Internet always leads to dinner with your neighbors
21 Septembre 2007
Wednesday, October 3, 2007
Adjusting to life in Vincennes
20 Septembre 2007
Today, I did absolutely nothing, which is fine with me, as I’m completely tired most of the time. I’m finding that adjusting to their time clock is more difficult than anticipated. A reasonable person sleeps at night and is up during the day. I seem to have the problem of not being able to sleep throughout most of my night; maybe 3 or 4 hours at the most. It’s not until later in my day that I begin to feel tired and kind of cranky, almost like a little kid needing a nap. But it’s not just my sleeping habits that are affected…it’s also my appetite. I find that I grow very hungry at night and not so much during the day. In act, I’d say I’ve already lost 5 lbs in the time that I’ve been here. Another contribution might be all the walking that I do, when I leave my apartment, that is. Sometimes, I don’t want to leave the security of my own place. It’s about the only thing I’m certain of here. Of all the things I didn’t do, I did purchase housing insurance (l’assurance d’habitation), which is a must here in
Monday, October 1, 2007
First Impressions
18/19 Septembre 2007
I arrived in
Morgane’s parents and I were able to get out of the airport (and the nearby vicinity) pretty easily. There was some traffic…after all,
After some confusion of location by Céline, we eventually meet up and moved the car closer to the school. She welcomed me with open arms and a cheery smile. She’s a young professeur with an almost British accent when she speaks English with me. We deposited my bags with the Contrôleur (doorman) of the school and proceeded to get the keys to my apartment. After being paroled around the school and introduced to lots of teachers, I met Serge, an older man who is responsible for renting the rooms in the apartment building where I was going to live. It also happened that he is my neighbor, as we are the only two on the same floor. But before, I could move in, the Proviseur (principal) wanted to meet me. It all happened so quickly; he was occupied, so I was rushed to meet the assistant principal and then moved into the principal’s office. I could tell from the reaction of the faces of Céline, Serge and a Spanish professeur who joined us, that they were not big fans of the Proviseur. Later, Céline confided in me that he is fairly new to the job; an older man, who seems to change his mind often or just has a tendency to forget what he says. He was slightly upset that I was taken to see Serge to get my keys before meeting me. (Céline mocked him later, saying that getting the keys to my lodging was more important than meeting him first off; “You are not going to sleep on him,” she said.) J The only thing that frustrated me with being at the school was that when we went back to collect my baggage, it looked like someone had opened my backpack. I can’t account for anything being taken, but already being a stranger in a strange land makes me feel weary. I don’t want my boundaries to be already tested after just arriving!
My apartment building is right behind the school based on its location. Apparently, many of the school employees (aka administration) live here as well. The Proviseur and the assistant-proviseur live in the apartments on the top two floors and so-on down to the bottom of the building. I live on the 2eme étage (or third floor in the
After setting up “house”, Céline took me to a nearby supermarché (supermarket) to buy some essentials to keep me nourished. My first French meal consisted of good artisan bread with goat cheese and chicken, some Lays potato chips and red raspberries. Since then, I’ve gotten little things that the apartment needs, like hand and dish soap. I can even find Diet Coke (known here as Coca Light) with Lemon, something I being able to purchase at home. The market is interesting. The first time I went with Céline, no one paid attention to me. My second time going I noticed a man who kept following me throughout the store and it kind of freaked me out. When I was looking at my options for dish soap, he said bonjour as he passed. I answered him back and continued looking at the items on the shelf. He asked me if I was American and of course, I told him yes. Amazing how they can tell us apart from others… He offered his assistance should I need any help. I thanked him without making eye contact and he smiled and left me alone. The French love it when we frown at them or seem to not care. It’s when you smile and seem friendly that they can become rude. I do my best to fit in without losing too much of myself.
Today, I went to the school a little late because it is the only place I can use the Internet and they only have one computer! I’m having problems with my Blackberry and I’m frustrated because it seems my lifeline back to the
I admit that I went to the school late because I slept in late. I kept waking up my first night and to try and help coax myself asleep, I watched a couple of movies. I’m going to try to adjust my sleeping habits so I don’t feel so much on
Another sight for sore eyes, a man (maybe homeless) gleaning through the trashcan, maybe for food, maybe for things he can use or sell. To me, it looked like he took a screw lid off a plastic bottle. And amazing enough, it didn’t bother me, unlike most people I know who would be disgusted by this act. I’m sure the word to glean my not be in everyone’s vocabulary, but in my French film class, I watch a movie called Les Glaneurs et la glaneuses, in which Varda (a French filmmaker) documents the history and impact that gleaning, the art of taking things after they have been discarded, has had on the French, both now and in the past. The title means “The gleaners and I” but in real translation, it is meant to reflect the gleaners but also that Varda is a gleaner herself, capturing images and even some items, like those she photographs. Isn’t it amazing how education can help explain a culture?
I’m sure that some of you want to know when I’m going to get to
1. Get my Blackberry working!!!!
2. Get my emploi de temps (schedule) for classes.
3. Maybe get Internet in my apartment? PLEASE
Wish me luck! The American in Paris
Some pictures of my apartment in Vincennes will come in a later blog. :)
Some pictures of my apartment in Vincennes will come in a later blog. :)
Monday, August 27, 2007
Tune in for :"If something can go wrong, it will" or "An introduction to Murphy's law"
So, apparently I'm not blogging enough for some people. But we won't mention any names.....cough (Mike) cough. :)
Since my last post, I've received my arrete de nomination and ALL the paperwork that goes with it. And all the non-directions of what to do with that paperwork. While I'd like to share the place where they might get the best use, I feel I should hold my tongue if I don't want my plane tickets to be wasted in vain. haha Anyway, frustration now comes in waves. Nausating, overwhelming, uber-stressing waves. My poor fingernails and digestive track have suffer quite a bit. For the longest time, finding housing seemed to be the biggest hurdle. After sending out what seemed like a hundred emails, I've finally gotten a few (notice, a few) responses back that look promising. IT'S ABOUT DAMN TIME! :/ But of course, if one thing goes well in your life, something else always backfires. It's like Nigel says to Ande in the film, The Devil Wears Prada, "If something goes wrong in your personal life, it's time for a raise." Too bad I'm not getting a real one...
Now instead of stressing about living in a gutter, I'm stressing out about late paperwork. Which says that it had to been in by the 20th of August to get paid "on-time", meaning an advance. Otherwise, we don't get paid for like 7 weeks! What the hell?!?!? I just got my contract on Friday (the 24th) and I'm already late for paperwork. I feel kinda set up to fail already. And thus, the stress nevers ends.
Now you're probably asking yourself three questions:
1. Will she make it to France?
2. Will she ever blog again?
3. What's the deal with the title?
I'm hoping that my sanity will endure and that I'll make it to France as a completly normal person. Bottles of wine always help. And so do donations. (Make all checks payable to the send Anne to France foundation) As far as blogs go, I'm so busy working hard for the money and trying to do everything on my list, that I won't be blogging again until I get to France. So there :P And the deal with the title....I took it from the Rocky and Bullwinkle show I used to watch in my adolescence. I thought I'd reward those who took the time to read my blog. Enjoy!
Now, on with the show:
Since my last post, I've received my arrete de nomination and ALL the paperwork that goes with it. And all the non-directions of what to do with that paperwork. While I'd like to share the place where they might get the best use, I feel I should hold my tongue if I don't want my plane tickets to be wasted in vain. haha Anyway, frustration now comes in waves. Nausating, overwhelming, uber-stressing waves. My poor fingernails and digestive track have suffer quite a bit. For the longest time, finding housing seemed to be the biggest hurdle. After sending out what seemed like a hundred emails, I've finally gotten a few (notice, a few) responses back that look promising. IT'S ABOUT DAMN TIME! :/ But of course, if one thing goes well in your life, something else always backfires. It's like Nigel says to Ande in the film, The Devil Wears Prada, "If something goes wrong in your personal life, it's time for a raise." Too bad I'm not getting a real one...
Now instead of stressing about living in a gutter, I'm stressing out about late paperwork. Which says that it had to been in by the 20th of August to get paid "on-time", meaning an advance. Otherwise, we don't get paid for like 7 weeks! What the hell?!?!? I just got my contract on Friday (the 24th) and I'm already late for paperwork. I feel kinda set up to fail already. And thus, the stress nevers ends.
Now you're probably asking yourself three questions:
1. Will she make it to France?
2. Will she ever blog again?
3. What's the deal with the title?
I'm hoping that my sanity will endure and that I'll make it to France as a completly normal person. Bottles of wine always help. And so do donations. (Make all checks payable to the send Anne to France foundation) As far as blogs go, I'm so busy working hard for the money and trying to do everything on my list, that I won't be blogging again until I get to France. So there :P And the deal with the title....I took it from the Rocky and Bullwinkle show I used to watch in my adolescence. I thought I'd reward those who took the time to read my blog. Enjoy!
Now, on with the show:
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