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!

Le Bordel de la rentrée

What a week!

It’s been a little while since my last post, but I will make up for it in sheer volume of activities.  I now understand why Paris is the city that never sleeps - there is ALWAYS something going on here!  

My week actually (yes dad, actually) started last week, when my friend Michael McTaggart came to visit.  McTaggs was a camper when I was a lifeguard at Camp Artaban, and when I found out he was backpacking through Europe I insisted that he come stay with me in Paris.  Little did he know I would be two hours late for our agreed upon arrival time due to a very late doctor’s appointment…but he took it in stride, and continued to take the rest of my scheduling mishaps and business very well for the remainder of his stay.  For a full account of his view on what it’s like to visit Ella in Paris, please see the survey below:

ELLA’S HOSTESS SURVEY

We hope you enjoyed your stay Chez Ella.  Please let us know how we can make the experience even better for the next guest by filling out the following survey (answers can just be bolded):

1. When Ella misses the agreed upon rendez-vous place and time, and then is almost two hours late for the back up rendez-vous, how does that make you feel?              

 a)Excellent b)Good c)Meh, whatever d)Sad e)Mutinous

2.  When the bed that was supposed to be there for you has not been delivered and it is already 10 pm, how does that make you feel? 

      a) excellent b) good c) meh, whatever d) sad e) Like dexter on a rampage

3.  When Ella then tells you that she is going to be very busy for the next few days, but you are welcome to accompany her to various sporting and social events, do you: 

 a) Smile and give her a hug b) Smile and nod c) shrug and purse your lips d) look at the floor e) rip out your hair and scream at her complete lack of planning 

4.  Do you find Ella’s romantic advice to be:

   a) helpful b) fine c) interesting d) iffy e) why is this even a question?

5.  Ella’s friends make you dinner.  Do you: 

     a) Gratefully thank them and chow down b) eat with your hands c) help with the dishes after d)sprint out of the room the second the fruit dessert is offered or e) all of the above

6.  How do you feel after Ella gives you traveling advice? 

    a)excited b) scared to travel c) nothing, the advice wasn't helpful  d) argumentative 

Thank you for your comments.  

My week was surprisingly full, but we went to a soccer tournament on Saturday where I played on an OECD team (we had a very respectable 1-2-2 ) and then on Sunday we went to the Montmartre, where the combination of the Sacre Coeur and Moulin Rouge is enough to make anyone more than a bit confused.  There was also quite a bit of cool graffiti all along our walk:

One of the many portrait artists in the market near the Sacre Coeur.  This guy was a real professional.

But I met a really nice guy!

 

As I mentioned, Montmarte was a bit confusing.

 

 Then we headed down to the Seine and enjoyed one of the pedestrianized quays for a bit by partaking in a couple of games of chinese checkers at an outdoor table.  My record there was 0-0-2. 

On Wednesday I bid Michael a hearty good bye, as he continues his journey on to the east and then down to Toulouse and eventually Lyon for an ultimate frisbee tournament - bon courage!

Take that Pacman!

Also on Wednesday, my former boss and all-round lovely lady Karen Aitken and her husband Jonathan met me for dinner at a great restaurant in the 7th arrondissement called Pottoka. Our reservation was for 9:45, and we weren’t seated until 10:20, but the food more than made up for it.  We had a fois gras starter with some kind of coulis that had been, as Jonathan so eloquently described for us, “blown through a straw” by the chef because it was very foamy and light.  I won’t go into detail about the rest of the meal because I don’t think my blog offers that much space, but suffice to say it was heavenly (AND they had a dessert that was basically chocolate mousse with chocolate cookies mixed in and some kind of chocolate brittle on top.  I think I’ve found my place in the world.) 

How did they already know me so well?!

And of course, while the food was good, the company was also fantastic and it was great to catch up with someone else from home, whilst in Paris.  We talked about all the important things that foreigners think about when they’re in France:  how do the locals consume so much fois gras and croissants and remain so thin?  How do they live in such small spaces all the time?  And how does anyone afford to buy property in Paris anymore?

 This week also marked the first time that I couldn’t get on the metro in the morning because the car was too full.  The platform was also full, and I had to watch 2 cars go by before I was finally able to squeeze onto the third.  Paris is filling up!  La rentrée est fait, et maintenant la vrai travaille commence encore.

Yeah, I think the residents are back from the summer.

Finally, with the fall and getting back to work comes something very important:  the People's Climate March.  This is a huge event happening in NYC, where the UN will be convening to discuss climate change, but there will also be marches in Dehli, Montreal, and tons of other cities, including Paris, all this Sunday. Venez nombreux!

Even the garbage is romantic

Salut à tous et toutes!  It's been a busy few days.  Since my last post I've been to another softball practice (that's really all you need to know), done some marathon shopping, been to chinatown, strolled the Luxembourg gardens, and eaten approximately une quinzaine des croissants (I purposefully made that number ambiguous!).


This past weekend I started off with a trip to Marché Edgar Quinet, a few métro stops away.  It was suitably cute and french, and I got there early enough that it wasn't tooooo busy, although the people ahead of me in line got the last two pain au chocolat.  You know life is hard when you have to settle for a plain croissant.  The market was in the Montparnasse area, evidenced in part by this mural:

That afternoon, a few friends and I went to chinatown, which also had it's fair share of murals:

Chinatown was cool, although I wouldn't start comparing it to Vancouver.  It's one major feature is a Géant Casino, the (literally) giant version of the french grocery store chain Casino.  

On Sunday, we did a group trip to the Musée de l'Orangerie, which is an art gallery at the other end of the Tuileries gardens from the Louvre (about a 20 minute walk).  It's main feature is a series of Monet paintings, displayed permanently (since 1927) under a specially designed ceiling that diffuses natural daylight into the museum so you can look at the paintings as though you were chillaxing on the grass beside the water lilies.

I told Dad I would add a selfie to the blog, so voilà

I should add, the title of this post comes from something one of my new international friends, Alejandra, said while we were waiting in line for the museum.  We were discussing the griminess of Paris, which is especially apparent right now while we are all still new to the city.  The garbage, the dust, the smell on the métro at the end of a hot day...it's a lot to get used to all at once.  But, we are experiencing all this saleté while in Paris, and so that makes it not just ok, but exciting and exotic!   Or, as Alejandra put it:  "Even the garbage is romantic!"

After the museum and a fortfiying lunch at an Alsace-themed restaurant, we went for a walk to the Luxembourg gardens.   I can't even being to imagine how many landscapers must be employed there.  The french style of gardening is very precise, so that everything is neat and controlled.  

This is a pear tree.

This is the fence that protects the pear tree.

Look at those hedges!  How could they possibly trim them that high?  This is one of the few lawns designated for people to relax on.  Most of the gardens have benches all around the lawns where you can sit, and there is also a huge playground, tennis courts, pony rides, cafés, and of course fountains where there were kids fishing for coins with magnets.  

Alors, à dodo!  Bonsoirée from Paris!