Keep friends who feed you

Dear Readers,

It was quite the year.  It was also quite the November and December, but you wouldn't know about that now, would you?  Someone hasn't been keeping up to date with her entries...

But that's all about to change. Back to where we left off...

My visit with mom, was, as briefly described in previous posts, phenomenal. When Gillybear does Paris, she does it in fashionable yet sensible shoes and with a sense of panache that had even the grumpiest of garçons eating out of her well-manicured hands.  She airbnb'd (another noun/verb) a nice apartment in the 20th arrondissement, a 6th (so in Canada, 7th) floor walk up that had a neat view of the neighbouring rooftops and a very nice shower.

Those blundstones were made for walking.

Gilly taking some pics.  

Obligatory E.T. pic.

We went to quite a few places, but highlights include a 21,000+ step day, the Christmas windows at the Champs Elysees, a near-sighting of Francois Hollande, dinner at a cute bar near the Sacre Coeur after a tour of the Montmarte Museum, a sunny lunch at the Luxembourg Gardens, and more than one new friend that Gillybear made with her ice-melting smile.  I am very lucky to have parents that take advantage of the cool locations their children live in to come visit, and I can't wait for us to have more adventures in Sweden!

The Christmas Monster - literally the ad campaign for this department store.  

After Mom left, I went over to a friend’s house for dinner - making a short stop at the hospital on the way to get a couple of stitches, after crashing my vélib.  I won’t go into too much gory detail, but I managed to do one of those skin-crawling moves where the bike wheel gets stuck between the bike lane and the curb, the bike goes one way, and you go the other.  I went into the ground, and ended up with a spectacular black eye.  But the doctor gave me some very good stitches, and a very nice friend made me a full plate of rabbit stew to ease the pain (and, by that point, embarrassment). 

 I'd also like to add that 5 (!) complete strangers stopped to help me, which was incredibly nice and not always the case in a big city.  I felt like a rockstar by the time I got into the ambulance. I also had a great friend meet me at the hospital, which made the whole experience way less frightening than it could have been.

But really, you should see the other guy.

So, keep in mind, much of the next few things that I am about to detail happened while I had a huge shiner.

I went to Switzerland, where I hung out with our lovely family friend Tina, who pampered me to bits.  We had a fantastic weekend, complete with an excellent ex-pat Thanksgiving dinner (where I realized I’ve been away from North American food for too long!) and of course, a hike.  The cantonal bank (cantons are to the Swiss what provinces are to the Canadians) did a 150th anniversary advertising campaign that consisted of putting 150 benches all over the canton, in the mountains.  And some of them are HUGE:

"Bank" in Swiss German means both "bench" and "bank". Clever, eh?

Oh gosh, I almost forgot to mention the fondue dog!  Fondue dogs are a Basel staple at festival time.  I had one a couple of years ago when I was there in the fall, and this time I was there just in time for the opening of all the Christmas markets! 

Two step process:  select sturdy-looking baguette half, pour three gigantic ladles of fondue cheese in.  Eat.

Christmas markets mean mulled wine (gluwein) also.  It was a really tough weekend guys.  I left Basel full of cheese and wine, and sporting a backpack full of chocolate.  Thanks Tina !!

Paris getting all lit up!

The week following was the FIRST WEEK OF DECEMBER, which in Paris means that everything gets lit up and exciting.  I marked the occasion with a visit to Chateau Vaux le Victomte - we never did figure out who the Vicomte was, but we had a great time walking around the castle and the grounds, which were actually quite beautiful despite the cloudy day.

Also, we rented costumes…and were almost charged the child price for them.  Score?

Well, MY daddy's castle makes THIS look like a STABLE.

In Switzerland it's gluwein, in France it's vin chaud,
and in Sweden, it's glogg.

Not letting work or school slow me down, I then took the next weekend to do a trip to Sweden!  As some of you may or may not know, I am currently in the middle of the first year of my Masters.  This year is all online, so it can be done from anywhere with an internet connection, and it’s also part-time, which is why I’m in Paris doing an internship at the same time.  Next year, classes start in Lund, Sweden, on August 17th!  And then from there I will be there for the year, enriching my brain and also working on my singing skills so that I can be in the Santa Lucia choir, because they were AWESOME.

The french would think this was cheese.
In fact, it's hard bread.  Sweden!

What is Santa Lucia, you ask?  It’s a holiday on December 13th that is celebrated across Sweden with the eating of Luciabullar (Lucia buns - the Swedish make buns for every occasion.  And they are all delicious) and processions of singing people dressed all in white, carrying candles.  Santa Lucia leads the procession, and she wears a red sash with her white dress, and a wreath of real candles on her head!  The songs they sing are traditional Swedish songs and also in this case, at the Lund University Hall, English Christmas carols, which were awesome!  

This is not the main Lucia song that they sing as they parade in and out, but if you want to check out what that sounds like here is a clip to the choir singing in the same building in 2011: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ow16qOHAUW0 .

The Lund University choir did an absolutely mesmerizing job of singing, and so my good friend Lovisa and I decided that we will be in the choir next year.  Big plans!

My home next year!

I also had a tour of the International Institute for Industrial Environmental Economics, where I will be studying all of next year.  One of the professors was kind enough to come in on a Sunday to give me a quick tour, and it was very much appreciated as the building is SUPER cool!  It used to be an insurance building, and still has a number of vaults within it.  Also the view from the top was spectacular.  I guess I can handle being here for a year.

Especially if this lovely lady is around!
(my friend Lovisa, holding the "Ella-shaped" Lucia bullar she made me)

Like, do people, bike here...or something?

Festive Duncan!

And finally, there was a little thing called Christmas that also happened.  I should add, in the lead up to Christmas there were a few other little things such as exams, wrapping up projects at work, and one or two soccer games that made the last few weeks of December a litttttle busy.  So it was incredibly nice to head to Amsterdam to visit my friends Rebecca and Duncan, who have recently moved there and very kindly invited me for the holidays.  They have the most comfortable couch in the world, a plus for any host, and also are fantastic cooks - I’d like to add that they also did not sponsor this post.  We had a lovely Christmas, and I got to see a few things out and about in Amsterdam, such as the Rijksmuseum (opened just recently after a 10 year renovation!) and some of the outdoor markets.  I also made the ill-fated decision to attempt a day trip to Rotterdam during a blizzard.  I will tell you this, Rotterdam has a really nice, warm, library!

Delectable cinnamon buns for Christmas morning.  

Festive canals!

I’m now back in Paris, and looking forward to another year full of new friends, old friends, and lots of good food.  Which brings me to the reasoning for this post's title:  My Brazilian neighbour told me that "Keep friends who feed you" is a saying where he comes from. 

As you may have noticed from the events detailed above, I had the fantastically good fortune to spend time with lots of good friends this year, and every single one of them (including many who were not mentioned due to lack of space and reader attention span) has fed me something brilliant.  I would like to think that I occasionally return this favour, and I would also like to make it clear that I don't just pick my friends because they feed me.  I pick my friends because the are kindhearted, hilarious, generally good-looking, intelligent wonderful people that I am so happy to spend time with.    So maybe, to draw out the metaphor and corn as far as possible, they feed me in more ways than one.

After that, if we get a few good meals in, tant mieux.

 I hope that all of you had a great New Years, and are ready to face 2015 with all you've got!  To give you some inspiration, here are a few more scenes from my 2014:

Even mean people dream of love.

Bitterbollen.  Everything that is bad for you, fried.  Obviously it's delicious.

Words to live by for 2015.

A little bit of love on the streets of Amsterdam.

As always, thanks for reading, and good night.

C'est bien, ou c'est bon(ne)?

Hola chicas y chicos!
I'm writing this from the gorgeous flat in the 19ieme arrondissement where Mom and I are staying for a few days.  It's a far cry from my student chambre, - the bathroom has proper lighting for one thing, and I have yet to notice any ants in the kitchen. You might wonder why the title of this post is what it is.  In fact, it is what it is because I always struggle with the proper time to use bien and the proper time to use bon, and they really have the same meaning:  it's good, things are going well.  And that's how I'm feeling about ma vie francaise at the moment.

Since my last post I had the fantastic chance to spend a sunny, wine-soaked weekend in Burgundy visiting old friends.  The two days were full of good food (boeuf bourgignone and choucroute were the two delicious lunchtime highlights), lovely people and some absolutely sumptuous wines.  We visited the Beaune Hospice, an old hospital that is now a museum, complete with a display of  - what else - wine tasting cups!  I left with my very own cup that I plan to put to very good use.

Beaune Hospice

I also left with some key advice on good places to find a husband.  Here's a hint: it wasn't England (explicitly, in fact), or America, but the flag does have blue, red, and white:

It's anyone's guess, really.

I think my only regret about the weekend was that it was only two days long - in France that's really only enough time for two meals!  What with the apéro, the first course, the discussions, the second course, the required game of soccer with the children, the introduction to new guests and subsequent stumbling along in my broken french, the dessert, the explanation of what Halloween is in North America vs France, the final coffee, and the the long, relaxed winding down of the conversation, these meals are long, loud, lovely laughter-filled extravaganzas, institutions of Burgundian and French culture that I am lucky enough to have a window into.

Burgundy sunshine

A few other things that have happened in my life recently:

I went to one night of Pitchfork music festival, which was in the huge Grande Halle de la Villette, a huge venue in the 20ieme arrondissement.  The venue used to be known as the Grande Hall aux Boeufs, or even the Cite du sang, back in the 1970's when it was a slaughterhouse, but now is used for concerts and other events.  La Villette means "a world apart".

La Grande Hall de la Villette 

I also celebrated Halloween with all the other international students at my residence, complete with pumpkin carving, spicy cider, and costumes for everyone on the big night.

Whatta bunch of clowns!

And now, Mom and I have had a very lazy Parisian sunday - time to go hit up the canal and mingle with the locals!  À bientôt mes amis!

Redsox, Whitesox, Wozzox: Pals in Paris

Hey there, remember me?  I know, it's been awhile.  I can only say that, as I may have mentioned before, this city never stops.  Even if you beg, even if you purse your lips and shrug until you turn blue, there is always something else happening in Paris.

SO the first big thing I have to mention is that my dear friend Rebecca Trembath came to visit my last week, bringing with her a lovely package of stroopwaffles from her new home in Amsterdam.  Stroopwaffles are now the tithe for visiting me, so be warned:  if you show up without them, you can't stay here.  And this is mainly because I have already eaten all the ones Becca brought.

Now, as I might have mentioned in the blog post featuring my last guest, I'm not the best host.  It doesn't help that I'm living in a place where the bathrooms look like something out of the Saw movies, but I could make it a little better by doing things like having food in my fridge when my guests arrive, and owning more than one towel so that they are not forced to dry off with t-shirts.

However, Rebecca braved all these challenges with grace and we had a fun and food filled weekend, stabilized by the fact that we walked and velibbed our faces off.  Some highlights included dinners at Cassenoix, a nice restaurant near my office, lunch at Marché des enfants rouges, where I got yelled at for sitting on a chair, another dinner at Café de l'industrie in the 11th arrondissement...and you get the point.  I won't belabour it, the food in Paris is pretty alright.  Especially if you eat it with wine, and a great pal.

Another one of the places we patronized.  Very logical sign, I thought.

On the vélib note:  vélib is the communal bike system in Paris, similar to Bixi in Montreal and whatever Vancouver will one day get once they solve the helmet law issue.  I got my vélib card a couple of weeks ago and decided to vélib home from work (note:  vélib is both a noun and a verb.  incroyable!).  One hour and 3 sets of directions from strangers later I was home...lesson being that sometimes the métro is the better option.  But the vélibs are a great solution for short distances and have already come to my rescue once when the train broke down on the way to work!



Going backwards in reverse chronological order without a segue, the nuit blanche happened a few weeks ago as well.  When you faire une nuit blanche in french, it means you have a sleepless night, generally due to merrymaking.  The Nuit Blanche festival in Paris is a night of interactive art exhibitions, supposedly open until the wee hours (although many close indecently early).  I went to the park right across the street to check out some interesting flashing lights, a band playing in a tree, and a man playing the keyboard and synthesizer going on and on about how he doesn't believe in love...I think.

Band in a tree! 

Synthesizer man.

Anyway, it was pretty cool, and it also involved a french lesson for one of my new non-francophone friends I have made here in France.  We were passing by the lake within the park, and she saw a sign that said something like 'Nourrissez pas les oiseaux'.  I think most of the Canadians reading this can sympathize that learning french in school is kind of hard - the grammar is tricky, the pronunciation is very specific, and there is an exception to absolutely every rule you spend hours memorizing.  So when you are able to apply all that knowledge that you work so hard for in practice, it's pretty exciting, as was proven when my friend yelled:

 'Hey! I know that word! It means birds! WOZZOX!!! WOZZOX MEANS BIRDS!!'

You would have been excited too right?

I'm sure that there is more to be said about my life, but it's already past my bedtime and I haven't even added the photos yet.  There are a few cameo appearances this week, not least my absolute biggest blog fan, whose comments are always very appreciated:

Grandpa Dusting with a well-earned brewskie after a hard morning of apple picking on Galiano.

And, of course, the Birthday Boy (18!!!!)

Das ma bro.

And a few more things:

A rainbow!  How lovely.

One very good use for this fall's apples.

And finally, some words to live by for the week:

Happy Monday everyone!  Allez, soyez gentille à quelqu'un!

RER Violet

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And now back to our regularly scheduled programme...

Eid Mubarak!  As I write this there are four very organized Algerian men cooking up a storm in the kitchen down the hall, because today is Eid, and Muslims everywhere are cooking and sharing food together as part of the celebration. There are lots of people from Muslim countries in my residence, and lots of excellent cooks, so I think the couloir is going to smell heavenly for the rest of the weekend!

Pre-meal Eid preparations - this is a small fraction of the meat they are preparing.

Now, Eid is an important holiday, but it does little to explain the title of this post, which is in reference to my oft-mentioned softball team, and their all-encompassing takeover of the RER last Sunday.  We had a practice that lasted for all of the afternoon and evening, giving a whole new meaning to the term beer league - it was more like picnic party league by the end of the night!  And then kids, parents, friends, etc all made the trek to the RER, the train that goes between Paris and the surrounding suburbs, and with all the players and hangers-on it really was as though the RER turned purple with PUC colours (our uniforms are purple shirts and white pants).  

RER violet!

As I have mentioned before, the majority of women (and a few men too) on my softball team are from Latin American countries - the coach is Venezuelan, the manager is Peruvian, and the Dominican Republic, Colombia, and Mexico are all represented as well.  I had just gotten accustomed to the rapid pace of Parisian french, and then I was quite literally thrown a curveball when I realized Spanish is going to be the most commonly spoken language at practice - although my wonderful teammates always translate for me, and I’m slowly learning.  Primero, segundo, tercero.  Esso!

But that’s kind of how things seem to work in Paris - yes, there is the french culture that I wrote about last week, that is new and exciting and sometimes confusing, but Paris is a majorly cosmopolitan city with a hundred other cultures swirling around. me  Last night  after saying goodbye to my Korean, British, American and Australian colleagues, I ate French quiche with my Peruvian, French, Colombian, Dominican, and Venezuelan teammates, and then I came home and had a long discussion about life and love and culture with my neighbours from Turkey and Morocco.  Now I’m listening to sizzling mutton as the Algerian guys in the kitchen prepare their celebratory feast.  It's fantastic!

A few other things that happened this week, as a matter of course:

•  A start of year dinner at the Maison des Etudiants Canadien, where I applied, but am not living because they sent me to another house as part of the campus ‘mixing policy’ or policie du brassage.  It was nice to see the inside of another building, even though that other building is approximately 500 million times nicer than mine.  The MEC was featured on French news, along with lots of shots of the Cité Universitaire, the campus sort of area where my residence is too.  You can watch it here: http://www.6play.fr/#/m6/66-minutes/11396334-grand-format-emission-du-28-septembre  (hopefully this link will work outside of France!).  If you do watch the show you’ll notice that it follows a nice boy from Quebec in his journey from Montreal to Paris, and that it puts subtitles on anytime anyone from Quebec speaks…

• I was called “sportive” so many times that I eventually lost it.  The temper tantrum went something like this:  “I’m not ‘sporty’.  I’m NORMAL!  WOMEN CAN PLAY SPORTS TOO.”  The recipients of my tirade were slightly taken aback, having just expressed interest in the fact that I was playing both soccer and softball, but unfortunately their interest came on the heels of what seemed like too many people going “Wow, you play a sport!  You are so sportive!  Good for you! (metaphorical pat on the head).”  Maybe it’s Emma Watson’s UN address getting me all riled up, but I think people here are a little less used to women playing sports - which I find strange, because there are so many strong french female athletes, and also strong female athletes from other francophone countries.

• Today I went to the market in an adorable suburb that’s only a 10 minute walk away, but really felt like we were outside of the city in a small town.  The marché was huge, and it was really nice to feel like we were outside of the hustle and bustle for a bit.

Enroute to marché Gentilly

Anything and everything you could want
is sold at this market!

Did you want this?

• And I got a haircut!  From my amazing friend Alejandra, who formerly was mentioned because she called parisian garbage romantic.  She is an engineer, and her haircutting skills reflected that attention to detail!  

She's a genius.  Seriously.

And a few more observations from the week:

Metro graffiti - but not a bad suggestion.

An admirable goal?

Largest flags I have ever seen.

Get it?!

Et je vous adore, aussi.  Thanks for reading!

Agissez à Paris!

Hello again!  It's been a week since we saw each other, I hope all of you have been experiencing the same delicious beginnings of fall as I have here à Paris.  As of September 23rd, the equinox (you'll have to ask google why it wasn't the 21), we are officially into fall.  And I couldn't be happier about it!  I actually looked forward to getting on the metro the other day, because I knew it would be warm there. The air smells crisper, the leaves are changing, automne est arrivé!

This week was another exciting one, not least because it started with the marche pour le climat on Sunday. This picture pretty well sums up my feelings about climate change:

Parce-que la terre est la seule planète avec du chocolat, preservons-là!!!

This is the Place de la Republique, where the march started, with a banner reading "Because the earth is the only planet with chocolate, let's preserve it!"  Mais oui!

My Grandpa instructed me that if I got nabbed by a flic while I was out protesting, I should blog about it!  Well, rather fortunately, I did not get nabbed, and the march on the whole was pretty festive and genial.  There were lots of kids there, even in our group, and lots of fun costumes.   It ended at the Paris City Hall, where there were speeches and a concert and lots and lots and lots of people!  The New York Times estimated between 5000-25,000....thanks, NYT.  I think it was probably around 10,000, but it's very hard to tell when you're in the centre of something.  Nothing like the 371,000 (ish) in New York, but the point is there were people there, and they were quite literally walking the walk to protest climate change.  I can't post pictures of them because it would have been weird to take them in the first place, but I think the strongest part of the day for me was seeing the little kids on scooters who had "Je suis la future" painted on their faces - doesn't get much more real than that!

If Sunday was about the future, Saturday was a bit more about the past.  I spent most of the day with a lovely new french friend, Célia, who I was put in touch with before I came to France. 

Célia et moi

 We went to the Hotel de Ville (the aforementioned City Hall) as part of something called the Journées du Patrimoine, a yearly holiday where tons and tons of government and other historic buildings around the Ile-de-France region are open to the public.  The Hotel de Ville was, for lack of another phrase, super blinged out.  Frescos on the ceiling, gold leaf everywhere, libraries full of spiral mahogany staircases...if the French were serious about fixing up their economy, there could be a few savings to be made around that place for sure!

Just a bit of light bedtime reading.

No, it's not a museum silly, it's a municipal government building!  Couldn't you tell from all the bright colours and marble statues and gold plate?

Ok, I know this isn't a great photo, but I just couldn't get over the fact that these statues were in the lobby and there was no explanation, nor could the staff provide one.  

Fresco on the ceiling of the main conference room - this is Apollo fighting for the arts.

Numbers on how many cleaners the Hotel de Ville employs - 83!!  And they own 70 vaccum cleaners!  

I guess this is also an opportunity to remind the population about the evils of tax evasion?

And I have to admit, the rest of the week has passed by in a haze of work and social events!  Oh, but for the purpose of talking about french happenings I should add that today I went for lunch to welcome someone new to the office at work, and there are a few things to note about the meal that were particularly 'cultural':

1) They seemed to have either lost our reservation or did away with it when we were 5 minutes late

2)They mixed up the orders, did not apologize, and then forgot to bring someone their food at all.

3) Because we complained about this, they did not bring us any complimentary bread.

4)The guy who asked if we could have complimentary bread got his food last.

5)The lunch took 2.5 hours because service was really....really....slow.

6) The addition, or bill, was a gros bordel, but on our part, because we were so unsure of who had ordered what and how things worked out that we almost over payed the very grumpy waiter.  In France, tips are unnecessary, and while you can pay by card you have to do the math on the bill yourself - none of this separate bills nonsense!

7) Of course, the food was delicious.

And that last point makes up for the rest of them, in my books.  It's pretty easy to complain or make fun of the french way of doing things, but at the end of the day there is a reason why their gold plated mahogany staircases and options to pay by cheque everywhere persevere well into the 21st century - when the traditions produce results that are worth all the hassle.

Et bon, c'est ça.  Bon weekend à toutes et tous!