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 Montreuil. However, we had no such luck getting in because the walls around the joint collège-lycée were very high and we couldn’t see the gardien responsible for letting students in and out. To be honest, I was glad that we didn’t stay for long. Montreuil is one of the more run-down suburbs around Paris. Since we weren’t successful at getting to her teacher, we decided not to waste the day and went to Paris. I was so excited about riding the metro because it’s such a major source of public transportation. Outside of the metro, Paris has the RER (regional express railway) and the buses, but the benefit of the metro itself is no traffic jams! We decided to go to Montmartre to see the Sacre Coeur and the Moulin Rouge. When we got off at the Pigalle exit, there were numerous sex shops lining the streets! It amazes me that people just live right above these places. While walking to Montmartre, I noticed that I recognized one of the shops; it was featured in one of my favorite movies, Amélie. Of course, I was tickled pink because I felt like I had stepped into the movie. J We walked by the Moulin Rouge and even stopped in to the official “Moulin Rouge” gift shop. Montmartre placed on some very high hills, so we continued walking through all the winding streets, until we came upon the Café des 2 Moulins, another site featured in Amélie! I couldn’t believe my luck! As we continued the long hike up to the top of the hills, we could see some of the original moulins (windmills) that were used for the original location of the first Moulin Rouge. I bought some postcards to mail to family and friends along the way. At the end of the hike, we made it to the Sacre Coeur, a beautiful basilica that had many tourist visitors. I took pictures of the outside and then we went in, and of course, I was both amazed and disappointed. The amazing part was the basilica itself. It was huge and it had an amazing large Jesus painted on the ceiling along the front of the church. The sad thing is that I wasn’t allowed to take photographs, so my descriptions of the inside can’t begin to describe the view. After walking quietly throughout the church, we left and descended down the stairs to the main streets, where we also found a carousel. And again, all these sites were featured in Amélie! After wandering around the streets, Liz and I wanted to get to home and make some dinner. So we started looking for a metro station. We ended up getting ourselves so lost, that we wondered out the arrondissement (area) where Montmartre is located into a total different one. Since Paris has such a circular shape, all these areas meet together and it is very easy to get lost because the numerous amount of streets. We finally found a different metro station and made our way home. After a challenged attempt to cook omelettes, Liz and I had another quiet night and watched French Kiss. What an appropriate movie after my first day in Paris!

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 Vincennes. After checking our email, I took her to the Chateau de Vincennes and we took some pictures outside of it. On our way back home, we stopped at Monoprix, a local grocery store, to pick up things to eat. I bought things to make a pasta dinner, which turned out to be pretty good. They have a tomato sauce that has green olives in it. Normally, I wouldn’t think to add these to my sauce but it actually makes the tomato sauce very lively, especially since I don’t have any proper spices yet. I cooked us dinner and she cleaned up, which she admitted was one of the chores she liked to do at home. After dinner and cleanup, we relaxed at home by watching a movie. All I can say is that I was so happy to have someone to talk to and enjoy a meal with. It’s been kind of lonely living by myself. We even discussed going into Paris tomorrow. Sounds like a great start to a good friendship!!

Trouble with the Internet always leads to dinner with your neighbors

21 Septembre 2007

So, not having the Internet and a working phone are still bothering me and right now, my hands are tied about it. I meet up today at the salle des professeurs lycée (teachers’ lounge) to see Céline, as she asked me to earlier this week. I went a little early to check my emails and ended up waiting for almost 15 mins to see her. Meanwhile, I was politely greeted by some of the other professeurs and when Céline arrived, she told me to wait around because she was going to buy lunch and she’d be back in 20 mins. When she got back, she asked me if I gave Serge, my neighbor and administrator in charge of my apartment, the paper from the insurance company, proving that I’d purchased the necessary housing insurance. I told her no and she said to make sure to turn it in today, as it was a complete necessity. I told her I would and she told me not to come back to the school until well after 2pm, because he wouldn’t be back until then. This forced me to wander around town, purchase some lunch and wander back to my place. I retrieved the paper and went to Serge’s office. He graciously accepted the paper, but not before asking me how I was doing, feeling, etc. I asked him about our trash situation (recycling is a must in Europe) and he told me briefly about it, saying he could explain more later. I also told him about my need to have Internet in my apartment. He said that he understood how important it was to me, but that he did not understand so well the technology. He said that his daughter, who bien-comprendre (understands it well) was coming home this evening and that they would pay me a call later in the evening. Sure enough, Serge and his daughter, 21 year-old Nathalie, rang my doorbell with a piece of paper full of what looked like scribble and a Mac Notebook. I welcomed them into my place and asked them to join me in my room where my laptop was hooked up. We sat for what seemed like forever, trying to get me access to their wireless Internet access. As we tried to troubleshoot through networking, Nathalie was in constant contact with her friend, Mathieu (who apparently is somewhat of a wiz with technology), both by telephone and by MSN messenger. For a few brief moments, I was actually connected to the Internet, but since then, I’ve been unable to connect. (This means I will have to continue to go to the school everyday to check mail!) L Nathalie then invited me into her room because she thought she might have something else to help me out. Serge came in to check on us and mentioned something about dinner. I said I would leave and he invited me to stay for dinner. I politely refused, saying that I didn’t want to intrude, but he insisted that I stay. I joined the rest of the family in the dinner room and they invited me to sit at the table. They served a “plat”, which is like a dinner appetizer/salad. It is usually made up of crudités, or finely chopped vegetables (with or without meat), and is covered in some kind of vinaigrette or mustard. The entrée follows the plat and they served me overcooked pasta (that was crunchy from too much air exposure) and chicken wings, which Serge was especially proud of. He presented them to me as though I would greatly appreciate them since I was American. I politely took some of the pasta and chicken, even thought I was unsure that I would like it. Honestly, I was just happy to have dinner with someone else. After the entrée, the cheese course (which sits at room temperature) is served. It is passed around the table only once, so you take exactly the amount you want the first time. I asked the rest of the family to go ahead of me, so I would make sure to follow the procedure correctly. Then dessert options are given and everyone chooses the kind they want. All in all, it was a wonderful experience. I talked with Serge and his family about wanting to go to Paris, but shared my fears of the metro. They offered me a pocket plan which features the entire metro system, as well as the RER (regional express railway) and bus system. (There are so many ways to get around the city!) I thanked them for a pleasant evening and headed home. I feel really lucky to have such great neighbors.

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 France. Everyone has to have it for the place where they live, doesn’t matter if it is an apartment or your own house. Céline told me that there was insurance taken out last year by the Spanish assistant who took out the policy and that she (Céline) was going to see about having it put in my name since it appeared to be current until December 31^st. This sounded too good to be true, which it was, because apparently the said assistant didn’t pay for it at all. And again, I learn how lucky I am to have Céline as my prof; she shopped around locally for me and found the same insurance for 65€ instead of the 175€ from the former company used. What I also love about it is that I get to charge the new assistant who is coming half the price, even though the policy is only in my name. Having a roommate is a very good thing… Anyway, I went to the insurance company’s office to get my policy and they pretty much had everything ready for me, except all the necessary copies. I eagerly whipped out the correct amount, which shocked the insurance sales lady and her assistant, to which they politely told me to wait, that I wouldn’t have to pay “ce moment” (this instant). In preparing all the documents, they had to access their accounts and apparently, everything they do is though an online corporate-wide system, and it seemed they were having a problem with their connection. The lady asked me if I could return another day and I agreed, letting her choose the day. (It’s not like I had anywhere pressing to be.) I offered her the money up-front, knowing I would not receive anything “in-hand” right away and slightly nervous of the consequences of trusting a complete stranger. I left the office and went back to my place. About an hour and a half later, I decided to go the supermarché to purchase some food for dinner. (One goes to the market almost everyday!) It just so happens that one passes the insurance office on the way to market I frequent, and on my way home, the insurance lady and her assistant practically ran after me, because they notice me walking by and they were able to finish my policy after all! Not only that, but they gave me a 10% discount off my plan as a goodwill and welcome gesture. Little by little, the French and I become a little closer and less like strangers.

Pictures of my apartment: She's not much to look at, but she does the job.

First Impressions

18/19 Septembre 2007

I arrived in Paris yesterday morning at the crack of dawn. I saw this as somewhat ironic: Here I am, arriving in a new country, starting a new life. It’s almost like the cyclical movements of life: time, days, months, years, rebirth…renaissance as the French call it. I’ve started my journal today because there is no way I could have written my first entry yesterday. I barely slept at home, wanting to enjoy my last few moments of comfort, safety and serenity. I did sleep some during my flight to Philadelphia, but those who know me well will know that didn’t sleep at all on my flight to Paris. The second plane was huge!!! and for the most part quiet. I watched some movie (300 and Shrek the Third) and some TV (Food Network and E!) during my flight. The best part, however, was talking to my flight neighbor, Judi. A political science student at the Sorbonne, she was in PA visiting une amie who also studies politics at Penn. I think she was taken aback initially from my asking her if she was French, but…once I started talking to her about France and Paris as well as her opinion of the best places to go visit or eat at, she became very talkative. She guided me through the Charles de Gaulle airport, through Passport controls and picking up luggage. Fortunately, I didn’t have to go through customs and to top it off, Morgane’s parents were right up front with their sign, looking for me. J What a sigh of relief their presence was… I couldn’t believe that they wouldn’t come and get me, but I was so afraid and intimidated by everything, that my worse fears kept haunting me until a resolution of some kind was made.

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, Paris is notorious for having many traffic jams (embouteillages). Throughout the drive, we spoke on many subjects and I was surprised at how quickly I caught on. I had to ask them a couple of time to repeat what they said as well as how to say something in French, but all in all, it wasn’t as difficult as I thought. They even complemented me on my French, saying they thought I’d improved since their visit to the States back in May. During the drive, I saw a quick glimpse of the Eiffel Tower. It was so fast that I didn’t even have time to take a picture. L I also learned something else about French driving; motorcycles are quite popular here. The drivers weave in and out of traffic, regardless of lines, at top speeds. It’s no surprise that there are lots of accidents. Once we got into Vincennes (pronounced van-sen for those English speakers that I love), we attempted to go to lycée (high school) Hector Berlioz so I could meet with Céline Barré, the English professeur with whom I was going to work. We were an hour early, so M. Jaunay parked the car on the street and I borrowed his portable (cell phone) to call Céline. I had to be careful where I walked, because as we learn in French class, there was dog poop scattered along the sidewalk. To make the moment even more special, an old man parked his car a few car spots up from us and proceeded to pee on the sidewalk. Welcome to France. Of course, I had to ask Morgane’s parents if this was normal French behavior. They laughed and assured me that the French usually use a WC (water closet = room with toilet only).

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 US). There is a super small elevator, which we used to transport only my luggage up to my floor. J My apartment is small and kind of dirty, but comfortable. I took the largest bedroom, since I was first. (I’m getting a roommate from Costa Rica, the new Spanish assistant. I think his name is Miguel.) It faces the street, which is full of traffic and trees. Once the leaves fall, I’ll be able to see more goings on. The wall along the street has large windows that have blinds and even doors to open them. My bed is small and hard on my back; I hope to get a featherbed mattress cover or something like it to give myself a little more comfort.

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 US. I was a little shocked on my way there, because I ran into three young adults just outside the school gates who were smoking pot in the street! I noticed that there weren’t many people present at the school, but I continued to enter the building. The problem is the school closes early on Wednesdays and I was coming just before closing! On my way into the school, I ran into the Contrôleur and he looked shocked to see me. I asked him about using the Internet and he told me that the school closed early on Wednesdays. I think that he could tell that I was in desperate need of getting to the computer, so he was willing to give me trente (or 30 mins) to complete my needs. I felt bad (especially for not knowing the closing times of the school), so I told him I would only take 15 mins. Instead, he offered that I could stay until he locked up everything else in the school. Amazing how the French are so full of contradictions: order and chaos. Almost like the bike riders on the highway. Make the rules up as you play along.

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 US time. After going to the school, I took some money (for my second market trip) and my camera to do some sightseeing. About 15 mins of a walk from my apartment, the Chateau de Vincennes is located in the middle of the town. It’s a beautifully decrepit building with its own church and donjon, a large tower used as a symbol of power and strength. This landmark is one of the oldest in France because it has survived since the Middle Ages (around 1300s). This year marks a celebration of the chateau and there are many festivals going on in town. Since most take place during the weekend, there wasn’t much activity going on, so I decided to take some pictures and explore myself. There are tours given of the Chateau and I plan to take one eventually. While walking along the sidewalk, I noticed many people walking their dogs on the grass when there are plenty of signs asking people to stay off. This also happened when I was within the chateau, but the older couple looked so cute playing their guitars and signing, how can one say anything? Again, the French and their contradictions.

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 Paris. Until I learn the metro system better (and I have a cell phone that works), I’m not venturing into the city alone for a while. Céline has agreed to take me into town sometime this weekend. I’m hoping that by the end of this week a few other things will happen for me.
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 is making her way, slowly but surely...

Some pictures of my apartment in Vincennes will come in a later blog. :)