S'abimer: to spoil.
Françoise came into the living room this evening and said (in French), "I think your fruit is going bad. It smells." Turns out ALL my fruit went bad at EXACTLY the same time. Oranges. Lemons. My artichoke. Qu'est-ce qui se passe? This has never happened before. This wouldn't be such a huge deal if I weren't deathly afraid of mold. I can handle spiders. I can handle snakes. I can handle heights and the dark. But not mold. Good thing Tanya lives with me, and it's a good thing she's willing to throw out my rotten food. The article below sums up perfectly my feelings about the disgusting growth that steals our once sweet and lovely fruits and vegetables from us. You'll have to pardon the language, but I promise, it is good. And so true.
http://nomorewastedpaper.wordpress.com/2006/12/11/dear-intense-fear-of-mold/
Here's to not buying more fruit than I can consume in one week.
25 March 2009
21 March 2009
Merde (things could be worse)
1. Françoise doesn't let Tanya and me turn the hall light on after she goes to bed because the tiny sliver of light that peaks under her door when the light is on supposedly wakes her up at night. Never mind how much money we are paying to live here. I think I've paid for that hall light. The pitch black hallway took its toll this evening, when I smashed head first into the wall on my way to the living room, breaking my glasses and causing a few untypeable words to slip from my mouth. Merde.
2. Françoise has also forbid us from flushing the toilet after 11pm because it supposedly wakes up the entire apartment building. For a while, I heeded this rule, but I after the light incident, I'm kind of fed up with this ridiculousness. Leaving merde in the toilet overnight is just disgusting, and I refuse to do it any more. Sorry for the graphic reference, but it's the truth. Here's to flushing the john.
3. I sat across from a man on the metro on the way home. After about a minute, he moved to the seat directly next to me, because he thought there was merde on the seat next to him. I must admit, it did look like someone had left a nasty little present on the chair. Or it could have just been a melted Crunch bar. But I should have been suspicious of this dude. About three metro stops later, he was asking me if French was my native language, and before I knew it, he had handed me his business card and asked for my number so that we could "practice French" with each other some time. Naw, brotha. I politely declined to give him my digits and rushed off the train. Another interesting tidbit: his profession read "hypnotiseur." Huh?
4. I also managed to leave my work papers on a chair in the mediocre crêpe restaurant where I had dinner.
I suppose there are worse things that could arrive, as the French say. At least I haven't yet stepped in merde.
2. Françoise has also forbid us from flushing the toilet after 11pm because it supposedly wakes up the entire apartment building. For a while, I heeded this rule, but I after the light incident, I'm kind of fed up with this ridiculousness. Leaving merde in the toilet overnight is just disgusting, and I refuse to do it any more. Sorry for the graphic reference, but it's the truth. Here's to flushing the john.
3. I sat across from a man on the metro on the way home. After about a minute, he moved to the seat directly next to me, because he thought there was merde on the seat next to him. I must admit, it did look like someone had left a nasty little present on the chair. Or it could have just been a melted Crunch bar. But I should have been suspicious of this dude. About three metro stops later, he was asking me if French was my native language, and before I knew it, he had handed me his business card and asked for my number so that we could "practice French" with each other some time. Naw, brotha. I politely declined to give him my digits and rushed off the train. Another interesting tidbit: his profession read "hypnotiseur." Huh?
4. I also managed to leave my work papers on a chair in the mediocre crêpe restaurant where I had dinner.
I suppose there are worse things that could arrive, as the French say. At least I haven't yet stepped in merde.
19 March 2009
Le banlieue
In addition to being nearly impossible to spell, the banlieue is also an extremely underrated part of Paris. It can have a negative connotation as sort of the outcast part of the city, but the literal translation of the word is simply "suburbs." My friend Henry studied abroad in Paris this time last year, and most of the friends he made during his time here live just outside of Paris in the banlieue. He visited last week on his spring break, and introduced my family and me (my mom and brother came for a week) to the real Paris, that is, the region outside of the 20 arrondissements, where normal people live. It is a part of Paris that I can actually relate to because it looks more like my own home.
The banlieue was refreshing for so many reasons. One, it was nice to get out of what can be a suffocating Parisian bubble. Paris is great, but it isn't the center of the world. It's nice to be reminded of that. Two, it was nice to finally see some BLACK PEOPLE! With a few exceptions, the only time I ever see people who look like me is when I see black nannies taking care of white children. Other than that, the center of Paris, especially the bourgeois 16th where I live, is pretty white. However, if you ride the train any distance away from the center of Paris, the further away you get from the city proper, the more colorful your métro car will become. This is no different from any other city. Boston is the exact same way. The further you ride from Kenmore square, the more racially and economically diverse the trolley becomes.
Race relations in Paris is something that I've had a hard time figuring out. With the exception of a drunken Arab young man who called Henry the n-word, there haven't been any blatant indicators of how things work in this city. From what I can tell, there is definitely a recognition of the different attitudes of French people towards the different parts of Paris. For example, when I told my new friends who live in Villiers, about 40 minutes outside of the city, that I am staying in the 16th, they gave me a kind of, mmmmm sort of look. Like, oh, the 16th, huh? I guess it has a reputation. I immediately rushed to assure them that this was just a temporary set up, that it was not something that I chose, and that I'm not stuck up or snobbish, just in case that's what they were thinking.
The people I've met from the banlieue have also been the most welcoming group of friends I have met during my time here. One couple that Henry introduced me to, a man and woman who moved to France from the Côte d'Ivoire, invited not only me to their home for dinner, but also welcomed my mother and brother without ever having met any of us. (Fried tilapia and plantains, and a made-from-scratch cake with brandy ice cream for dessert....so good!)
All of the people I met during Henry's visit were from some part of Africa, mostly Gabon and the Ivory Coast. I have been mistaken a few times for African, usually for Ghanian. My family is West Indian, though. Sorry, y'all.
The day after dinner, Henry took us to church in St. Denis, an area that a lot of Parisians dismiss as not part of the real Paris, though it is only a métro ride away. (Check this out if you have an extra three minutes and forty seconds [and understand French....] Whole new perspective on St. Denis.) Again, my family and I were welcomed like old friends. (The church experience warrants its own entry.) Later that same evening, we met up with some of the folks from the church for dinner at a Japanese restaurant in Paris. And again, though I had never met the people with whom I had dinner, by the end of the evening, I felt completely comfortable with them, and was ordered by them not to leave Paris without going over to their houses for dinner at least once. (Incidentally, one of the women with whom we ate dinner stars as Nala in the "Lion King" here in Paris. Definitely have to see that show, now.)
My mom asked me where I would want to live if I stayed in Paris. Initially, I would have said Montmartre or the Marais, but after this week, maybe the suburbs wouldn't be so bad. If nothing else, it'd be a heck of a lot cheaper.
Vive le banlieue!
The banlieue was refreshing for so many reasons. One, it was nice to get out of what can be a suffocating Parisian bubble. Paris is great, but it isn't the center of the world. It's nice to be reminded of that. Two, it was nice to finally see some BLACK PEOPLE! With a few exceptions, the only time I ever see people who look like me is when I see black nannies taking care of white children. Other than that, the center of Paris, especially the bourgeois 16th where I live, is pretty white. However, if you ride the train any distance away from the center of Paris, the further away you get from the city proper, the more colorful your métro car will become. This is no different from any other city. Boston is the exact same way. The further you ride from Kenmore square, the more racially and economically diverse the trolley becomes.
Race relations in Paris is something that I've had a hard time figuring out. With the exception of a drunken Arab young man who called Henry the n-word, there haven't been any blatant indicators of how things work in this city. From what I can tell, there is definitely a recognition of the different attitudes of French people towards the different parts of Paris. For example, when I told my new friends who live in Villiers, about 40 minutes outside of the city, that I am staying in the 16th, they gave me a kind of, mmmmm sort of look. Like, oh, the 16th, huh? I guess it has a reputation. I immediately rushed to assure them that this was just a temporary set up, that it was not something that I chose, and that I'm not stuck up or snobbish, just in case that's what they were thinking.
The people I've met from the banlieue have also been the most welcoming group of friends I have met during my time here. One couple that Henry introduced me to, a man and woman who moved to France from the Côte d'Ivoire, invited not only me to their home for dinner, but also welcomed my mother and brother without ever having met any of us. (Fried tilapia and plantains, and a made-from-scratch cake with brandy ice cream for dessert....so good!)
All of the people I met during Henry's visit were from some part of Africa, mostly Gabon and the Ivory Coast. I have been mistaken a few times for African, usually for Ghanian. My family is West Indian, though. Sorry, y'all.
The day after dinner, Henry took us to church in St. Denis, an area that a lot of Parisians dismiss as not part of the real Paris, though it is only a métro ride away. (Check this out if you have an extra three minutes and forty seconds [and understand French....] Whole new perspective on St. Denis.) Again, my family and I were welcomed like old friends. (The church experience warrants its own entry.) Later that same evening, we met up with some of the folks from the church for dinner at a Japanese restaurant in Paris. And again, though I had never met the people with whom I had dinner, by the end of the evening, I felt completely comfortable with them, and was ordered by them not to leave Paris without going over to their houses for dinner at least once. (Incidentally, one of the women with whom we ate dinner stars as Nala in the "Lion King" here in Paris. Definitely have to see that show, now.)
My mom asked me where I would want to live if I stayed in Paris. Initially, I would have said Montmartre or the Marais, but after this week, maybe the suburbs wouldn't be so bad. If nothing else, it'd be a heck of a lot cheaper.
Vive le banlieue!
You make everything glorious
So many things have happened in the past two weeks or so that I don't even know where to begin. I'm afraid I'll have to cop out of recounting it all by using bullet points and photographs, both to save myself some time, and to save you the pain of reading lots of run-on sentences and long paragraphs.
Here goes:
1. Took my finals one day early, then flew to Cleveland to attend my grandmother's funeral. It has been a difficult couple of weeks, but I'm thankful that I was able to be with my family for a little bit. Thanks to everyone for all the thoughts, prayers, and support.
2. Spent the weekend in Cleveland, then flew back to France and hung out in Paris for a day before taking the train down to Nice for three days of Spring Break.
3. Nice is beautiful! Sunny and warm and bright and colorful. Visited Cannes and Monaco on the second day of the trip, then spent the last day in Nice. Monaco, like Nice, is beautiful and very colorful. Cannes was just okay. As a film major, I of course wanted to see the location of one of the biggest events in the film industry, but the city itself wasn't really all that.
4. Train back to Paris on Thursday, Mom and Robert came on Friday morning. Henry was also here for his spring break with his friend, so we all just kind of hung out at various points during the weekend. It was so great to have my favorite people from St. Louis all here in Paris at the same time. And Henry introduced me to a ton of his friends, so now I finally have some contacts in France.
5. I started my internship on Monday. There isn't too much for me to do just yet, but we'll be filming a commercial next Monday and Tuesday, so things should pick up.
I'm sure there are other things to report, but I can't remember them all right now. To quote a friend, I've been too busy living my life to document it. :-) So there you have it.
Photos!
1. Monaco. 2-3. Flowers from the Jardin Exotique in Monaco. 4. The view from atop the Jardin Exotique in Monaco.
5. the beach in Nice. 6. Nice is so colorful! 7. Socca, a specialty of Nice. It's like a crêpe, but made with chickpeas. It was delicious. There is a Facebook group in celebration of it. NB: the French wikipedia article went much more in depth about the dish, but I'm assuming most of y'all don't know français. 8. Sunset along the Promenade des Anglais in Nice.
9. l'Arc de Triomphe with Henry and Cora. 10. The moon over the Champs Elysee, from the top of l'Arc de Triomphe. 11. Oh, hey! The moon! 12. I risked my life for this picture, looking down the Champs Elysee.
13. Happy Birthday, Robert! Françoise made him a cake for his 14th birthday.
Here goes:
1. Took my finals one day early, then flew to Cleveland to attend my grandmother's funeral. It has been a difficult couple of weeks, but I'm thankful that I was able to be with my family for a little bit. Thanks to everyone for all the thoughts, prayers, and support.
2. Spent the weekend in Cleveland, then flew back to France and hung out in Paris for a day before taking the train down to Nice for three days of Spring Break.
3. Nice is beautiful! Sunny and warm and bright and colorful. Visited Cannes and Monaco on the second day of the trip, then spent the last day in Nice. Monaco, like Nice, is beautiful and very colorful. Cannes was just okay. As a film major, I of course wanted to see the location of one of the biggest events in the film industry, but the city itself wasn't really all that.
4. Train back to Paris on Thursday, Mom and Robert came on Friday morning. Henry was also here for his spring break with his friend, so we all just kind of hung out at various points during the weekend. It was so great to have my favorite people from St. Louis all here in Paris at the same time. And Henry introduced me to a ton of his friends, so now I finally have some contacts in France.
5. I started my internship on Monday. There isn't too much for me to do just yet, but we'll be filming a commercial next Monday and Tuesday, so things should pick up.
I'm sure there are other things to report, but I can't remember them all right now. To quote a friend, I've been too busy living my life to document it. :-) So there you have it.
Photos!
1. Monaco. 2-3. Flowers from the Jardin Exotique in Monaco. 4. The view from atop the Jardin Exotique in Monaco.
5. the beach in Nice. 6. Nice is so colorful! 7. Socca, a specialty of Nice. It's like a crêpe, but made with chickpeas. It was delicious. There is a Facebook group in celebration of it. NB: the French wikipedia article went much more in depth about the dish, but I'm assuming most of y'all don't know français. 8. Sunset along the Promenade des Anglais in Nice.
9. l'Arc de Triomphe with Henry and Cora. 10. The moon over the Champs Elysee, from the top of l'Arc de Triomphe. 11. Oh, hey! The moon! 12. I risked my life for this picture, looking down the Champs Elysee.
13. Happy Birthday, Robert! Françoise made him a cake for his 14th birthday.
13 March 2009
Thousands of calories and infinite delight
One word can summarize my experience in Paris: Delicious.
A brief highlight of my gastronomic adventures in Paris and the rest of Europe can be found here:
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2010871&id=1307820301&l=3e7e7
Try not to slobber on your keyboard.
A brief highlight of my gastronomic adventures in Paris and the rest of Europe can be found here:
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2010871&id=1307820301&l=3e7e7
Try not to slobber on your keyboard.
08 March 2009
Chicago sucks in winter
My dad and I have taken over a section of the Admiral's Club in O'Hare International Airport. We've been here since about 6:35am. It is now 5:45pm local time. Our flights aren't until 7:15pm. (Both have been pushed back due to torrential downpours.) I love Chicago and all, but my advice about this city: flee it like the plague between October and March, especially if you're relying on air transport to get you home. I can't remember a single positive experience involving me and an airplane in Chicago in the winter. Not a single one.
Get me back to France, please.
Get me back to France, please.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
