CPE, etc

I just found this great article on BBC News that does a good job looking at the underlying reasons behind the demonstrations that have been beamed around the world over the last two weeks.

The gist of the article is that France has 23% youth unemployment and that french students are craving a stable and accessible job market. On the other hand, there's a university system and a social practice that puts these students through years of studies with very little practical/professional experience, which makes companies loathe to hire them, especially with the importance, and moreover, expectation of job security in France.

One of the things that's rarely mentioned about the CPE is that after these 2 years of "precarite," where a student can be fired without reason, you're relatively set. It's hard to fire people in France. That's the fact here and I don't know how these students can feel so entitled to job security without being able to prove themselves first. Is the CPE equitable and fair? Well, it's hard to rent an apartment and secure financing without job security, but at the same time, why give a permanent job to someone right out of university who has no hands-on experience?

Personally, I feel that this country babies their students way too much. They're not expected to work during college, often live at home late into their 20s, and pay chump change (ie: a few hundred dollars a year) to go to University for a year. When you throw all of these (costly) benefits at these kids, no wonder they're going to come out of a system like this and expect a degree of continuance into the real world. These students need to make themselves more available and employable to companies in France. Sorry, you're not going to get a career right out of college, it's an economic reality. Understand it, and be flexible. Because the state, which is in my opinion way too powerful here in France can only support a certain level of government patronage.

Update

Spent the weekend in Bruges with my recently-arrived family members. The 4 of us, plus Aygline and Vincent, took the TGV to Lille where we were picked up by the same family friends who had me in Bruges before. The weekend was full of chocolate and good belgian beer and ridiculous waffles. We got back into town on monday, and I've been in tourist mode full-on. I haven't even had enough time to really check out the protests. But honestly, they haven't had too much effect on my daily life - Paris isn't some sort of burning city in the hands of anarchists (yet).

I'll post more once I get my life in order and catch up on some schoolwork, etc.

French Books

This is an article put out by the French Books Newsletter which highlights some of the most recent french-related and translated works that are available right now. I found this link from an expat blog I check every now and then called In Paris Now.

Since we're on the subject of lists, I'd throw in anything by Alistair Horne, especially La Belle France (which I'm currently reading) or the Seven Ages of Paris. He's an English historian who has received the Legion d'Honneur for his work in french history. Also, there's the helpful French or Foe and Sixty Million Frenchmen Can't Be Wrong if you're planning on a trip to France.

On a sidenote about French History... I am a history major and a french minor. When I explain that to french people, they instantly assume I'm a french history major. Lately, I've just been rolling with that and forsaking the whole explanation (aka I've taken a lot of classical, latin american, and european history, and never a specific course on the history of france outside of my european survey course). Plus it makes french people like me more.

Monoprix Moments ©

I was at Monoprix two days ago when I heard Antony and the Johnsons while browsing the wine selection. I love France.

Also, I've been keeping the cd "Alligator" by a group called The National on heavy rotation on my iPod since I've been here. Very good and accessible album, I highly reccomend it.

the top level

Last night, I went over to the 11th arrondisement to go to meet an old friend of my dad's for dinner at her husband's restaurant. The restaurant, on 31 Rue St. Maur in the 11th arrondisement, was amazing. Joelle's husband, Gary - who is actually English - cooks some of the best french classics I've had here yet. I started out with a decent beer that's easy to find around here called Leffe, while I waited for the menus to be printed out. (You can tell it's a good place if they have a changing menu that needs to be printed, you'll be getting quality food that's available and in season.) I skipped the entree and went right to the main course (since it was a free dinner, I didn't want to be that guy who orders everything), which was an amazing Magret de Canard (duck) with saffron butter. Duck has really become my favorite thing here, and I ate everything, fat and all. For dessert, after having gone through a bit of wine, I had probably the best Tiramisu I've ever had. The whipping cream was about 20 steps up the ladder from anything I've had before. On the way out, I made sure to leave an extra-big tip for the incredibly cute french waitress and thank Gary for some amazing food.

I'm going to repeat the address because it's that good: 31 Rue St. Maur. You can get there by taking the Line 3 to the Rue St. Maur stop, or by Place de Voltaire, or any of the stops around that area in the 11th. It's a charming and not overly done up place that has an exclusively french clientele, and a dinner "formule" for 18.50 euros which includes an entree and a main plate, but make sure to save room for the tiramisu. Like I talked about in my earlier post where I mentioned La Chope Daguerre, this place is good because it's in a relatively neighboody location, far from the overpriced culinary black hole of the 7th arrondisement (you can quote me on that). So, if you want a genuinely amazing night of food, check it out. Also, it's not far at all from Oberkampf or Menilmontant, so you won't be pressed to find cool (and french) bars for later.

Speaking of later, after leaving the restaurant, I went over to finally meet up with my friend from back home, Andrew, who actually goes to the American University in Paris. He was there with his mom, sister, and his turkish friend who were all visiting from various corners of the globe. Since his friend had never seen the Eiffel Tower, we took a freezing cold but beautiful trip up to the top to check out Paris late at night.

Talking with Andrew really helped me get excited about being in Paris (as if I wasn't enough already). He's been here so long that he's really found his niche, has met amazing friends from all over the world, and has really explored France. He also helped me realize, in between talking about castles in Portugal that I have to visit when I'm down there, how much of a sponge I've become here. I feel that this is about as open as I've ever been. I've become a lot more conscious that life is really just this amazing chain of experiences. Each one you have help you with the next. Life can be sad, depressing, or even downright awful, but at the same time, staring out over the lights of Paris from the Tower and talking about Morocco, I couldn't imagine something more perfect. Anyways, that's enough rambling on my part. Suffice to say I'm happy here. And even when I'm no longer here (god forbid), I'll hopefully remain conscious of this melange of frenchness thrown at me from every-which angle.

Le probleme du pain

I was browsing through one of my favorite sites recently when I came across this article and subsequent conversation online. The gist is that the author is wondering why bread in Paris is just better than a lot of the bread you can get in the states.

The conversationg gets pretty interesting (I mean, come on, we're talking about bread here people) when one of the people mentions the decline of the Boulangerie in Paris. Turns out that more and more french are turning to sliced bread because it's more practical and doesn't get stale nearly as fast as a baguette (which feels very un-fresh in a few hours).

Personally, I love the baguette, but I understand. You really need to go out every night and pick up a baguette before dinner, which I love doing but isn't very practical for people who don't live right in the city, or who have children, or use bread to make sandwiches, etc. The form of a baguette is monumentally unpractical for most things. When I make toast in the morning, I normally use sliced Pain Poilane, which is sold at Monoprix and is fresh bread from a bakery (actually "the" bakery) but works better for lathering on the butter and honey. When you toast a baguette, it always burns on the outside because you have to cut it in half to make useable pieces out of it.

On a less nitpicky note... The reason that Boulangeries and a lot of these small stores around Paris that you see in every neighborhood survive is obviously because of local patronage. For instance, this sunday when I took Gabe and his family to La Chope Daguerre for a sit-down lunch, his dad, who is french, made a point, "pretty much all of these types of restaurants are good, because if they're not, nobody would go there." While it might seem obvious, it was a semi-epiphany for me.

In the states, there's crap bakeries and restaurants all over the place that inexplicably stay in business. For the life of me, I cannot explain why some of the food places in Washington DC remain open, they're an affront to everything that is pure and beautiful about food. There must just not be the same level of selection that you see here. Or maybe it's a food appreciation issue? I feel like in the states we're cultured to be satisfied with marginal food. Thinking about my host dad, with whom food is either fantastic or no good, I couldn't imagine him patronizing a place he didn't really like.

The rundown

Since I haven't posted for a few days due to lack of time, I thought I'd just give a run-down of what I've been up to lately.

On friday I went to a film class on Jacques Tati, known mostly for the film Mon Oncle (My Uncle). He's got a great brand of physical humor and is definitely worth checking out. Then I went to the newly-reopened Modern Art Museum of Paris ( "Musee d'Art Moderne de la Ville de Paris,"which is different than the Centre Pompidou) where I checked out an amazing Pierre Bonnard Exhibit. The colors he uses in his paintings are amazing, and it's been one of my favorite exhibitions since being here. Also, the museum has a very solid permanent collection (which is also free to enter, unlike the ridiculously-priced Pompidou) that gives a good overview of modern and contemporary art without being too overbearing or packed with people.

While I was there, I witnessed one of my favorite museum phenomenons. There was this film being played called "Los Angeles" that was made in 2004. The film was basically clippings and documentary footage of Los Angeles, everything from the Oscars to gated communities to the more seedy side. When I went into the room, I was the only one there. I decided to stand around and watch for a while, and I noticed as people passed through they stopped and watched. By the end of the film, there were seven or eight people standing around me, seeing what all the fuss was about.

After that, I had dinner with Sydney, an old friend from Minnesota who lives in Paris. We went to a japanese place just southeast of Opera (there's a lot of good ones in that area) and then walked around the city.

On saturday, I got up moderately early (aka 10:00am) to go check out Paris au Cinema, the new expo on cinema in Paris at the Hotel de Ville. It's also a free exhbit, but be forewarned it's all in french. Since I'm taking a cinema class, I was able to get some of the references, but it'd be difficult to follow if not. From there, I spent the day with a friend around the Marais. We went to Muji, the japanese lifestyle store that sells everythings from home furnishings to clothing to stationery. Go there and buy the stationery, it's very cool stuff, especially their pens.

That night, I went down to a bar right over by St. Michel/Sorbonne area with a few friends. It wasn't the smartest idea since the Gap and McDonalds had been burned that day in the riots and demonstrations, but mostly what I saw were a lot of riot police around, so nothing too scary. I knew I had to check it out.

On sunday I met up with Gabe, a friend who I worked in Morocco with. His dad is french so he was in Paris with his family on the way down to the south to visit some relatives. We had lunch on rue Daguerre at one of my favorite restaurants there, La Chope Daguerre, then we went to the Rodin Museum. For some unexplicable reason, the grey left Paris for a day. It was 50 degrees and sunny and gorgeous, so we walked all the way down through the Tuileries and past Notre Dame to Berthillon, which is the best ice cream/sherbet in Paris on the Ile St. Louis. If you haven't been, go next time you're in Paris. Get the fruit flavors and skip the standard ones, the peach, strawberry, or raspberry are all amazing. Just be mentally prepared to drop 6 Euros on a triple scoop of ice cream. Bienvenue a Paris (welcome to Paris...). From there, we had dinner at a decent couscous place in St Michel.

Also, I finally saw Shakespeare and Company, the english bookstore. I can't believe i missed it before. Anyways, when I saw it, a few things popped into my head. First of all, I'm reading a Moveable Feast by Hemingway right now, and he talks about it. Secondly, that's where the movie Before Sunset starts! Makes me wish I'd brought my DVDs out so I could retrace their walk. I'll google it and see if someone's already done the walk on some random blog, I wouldn't be too surprised. Anyways, if you haven't seen it, watch it and its prequel, Before Sunrise.

Last night (monday), I finally checked out Caveau des Oubliettes. It's a cool live music venue right by St. Michel with live jazz on mondays. The actual stage (if you can call it that) is down in an old stone basement. Go early (aka 10pm) to get a decent spot, because it fills up later.

In Memoriam

Genevieve Bolger of Minneapolis was a businesswoman who cared about the needs of her female employees who were trying to raise children and make a living.

Bolger, a former executive in her family's multimillion-dollar printing business, which she cofounded, died of congestive heart failure Monday. She was 89.

Bolger graduated from the University of Minnesota's business college in the 1940s. She was especially tickled by one of several printing awards she won during her career -- the 1986 Man of the Year award from a printers' trade group.

Bolger and her husband, John, started Bolger Publications and Creative Printing of Minneapolis (now known as Bolger Vision Beyond Print) in 1950 by converting her husband's family's publishing business to a commercial printing venture.

Genevieve Bolger's specialty was sales and human resources, and she eventually became president and chairwoman of the board of the now $30 million-a-year firm.

At printers' conventions, Bolger would be the only woman among a thousand men, especially during the 1960s, said retired Bolger creative director Jane Eschweiler. But it didn't bother her; she made friends with all and did business with them, too.

Most large printing companies didn't have women working the presses and setting type, but the Bolgers did.

"Genevieve believed in me and believed in people, and that allowed us to be successful," said Eschweiler, who joined the company in the 1960s as a printer.

Bolger's answer to the problem of being a working mother was to bring the kids -- hers and her employees' -- to the printing plant on a snow day or when working overtime. One young mother brought her infant to work daily for four months in the early 1980s.

"It was good for the mother," Eschweiler said. "The atmosphere was very positive. We were in a business that was pretty much male-dominated."

Bolger's husband died in 1992; her son Jack died in 1993.

Today the firm is run by her sons Charles of Edina, and Dik of St. Paul.

In addition to her sons, she is survived by sisters Mary Dean of Minneapolis and Ann of Edina; a brother, Leonard of Tucson, Ariz., and seven grandchildren.

A memorial celebration will be held at 2 p.m. Friday at Colonial Church of Edina, 6200 Colonial Way.

Visitation will be 5 p.m. to 8 p.m. today at Washburn-McReavy Davies Chapel, 2301 Dupont Av. S., Minneapolis.

Lentils a la Bachelor

There are nights where I don't have dinner parties and don't eat out. These nights, besides being moderately tragic, are my nights to stay in and attempt to cook. This was one of those nights. Faced with an unheard-of friday morning class in my cinema course, I'm taking the night off to catch up on my reading and rest after a brisk trip around the Orsay earlier (some of the metro stations were closed because of the "manifestations" by the students against the new labor contracts, so I had a nice walk afterwards to get to Champs-Elysees Clemenceau).

One of my favorite recipes lately has been dubbed by me "lentils a la bachelor" (thanks to charley for the name inspiration). It's basically Cassegrain lentils, ground beef, some herbes de provence, and lots of Maille Dijon Mustard in a low bowl.

1 box of Cassegrain cooked lentils
250 g of ground beef
Sea Salt
Herbes de Provence

I put the lentils on low heat in a saucepan and let them simmer while I fry up the ground beef in an oiled skillet. While I'm cooking the meat, I add some herbes de provence and sea salt. If you don't mess around with the meat (aka: poke it too much or break the patty open) it's going to be ridiculously juicy. Then I just put the meat in a bowl and pour the lentils over. It's really simple and really damn good. If you cook the meat right, it actually makes a juicy noise when you cut it... mmm. It's also got a nice slightly soupy consistency with the lentils poured over. Then I just slather on the Maille Dijon mustard. Be careful, it's strong stuff. It'll clear out your sinuses and make you cry at the same time if you overload.

Normally, I pick up a bottle of wine (which can be had for about the same price as a bottle of water for a decent quality) and some bread and goat cheese, foie gras, saint marcelin cheese, or camembert (yay for unpasteurized cheeses).

Also, for breakfast, I've really gotten into honey. On everything. Jacques buys really good honey and I normally eat it drizzled over fromage frais, which is basically like very unsweeted yoghurt, but it tastes amazing with the honey.

artparis 2006

This morning, I got an invite from Jacques to check out the opening (vernissage) of an absolutely gigantic contemporary and modern art show at the Grand Palais (also built for the 1900 Exposition). This expo, called artparis 2006, was one hell of a big ticket item (as Jacques put it, it was a "very searched-for invite"). I made sure to get there right around the opening, and I was still stuck in a crowd of people. Even though it was an invite-only event, galleries from France, Belgium, Switzerland and beyond had invited the local art crowd and their biggest clients. By the time Kitty and I headed out at 8:30, there was a throng of "bobos" (bohemian bourgeoisie - as the Parisians call them) with furniture eye glasses and fur coats enduring a rather perturbed 2-hour wait.

The actual expo, which officially starts tomorrow on the 16th, is unbelievable. Want a Basquiat, Keith Haring (there was even a car decorated by him), or Fernando Botero (to name just a few of the big names I saw there)? If you've got the cash, it's yours, along with an amazing collection of newer and slightly lesser known artists, along with some of the most amazing modern photography I've ever seen. Kitty and I, being twenty-somethings dressed in H&M or Zara (best guy's blazers ever), we didn't get a hell of a lot of "bonsoirs" from the gallery owners, but we did get free rein throughout the literally hundreds of booths spread across the massive and beautiful exhibition space. I've just never seen so much art in one place, all of it for sale. Since we didn't have money but wanted to pretend like we did, we pretended we were there shopping for a few "pieces" for our real imaginary houses, it made it a lot of fun. The problem with a lot of contemporary art is that it's so provocative and different that I couldn't imagine pictures of latex-bound women over my fireplace. On the other hand, there was definitely a lot of just really great and accessible pieces there with some really vibrant colors and designs.

My new project now, after coming home and drinking some wine with Jacques, who was also there, is picking up some real daguerreotypes. He was telling me that I can go to art markets and get real portraits from the 1850s for under a hundred euros, often still in their original velvet boxes. Supposedly, things like that are much more expensive in the states.

On a side note. I was leaving the expo with Kitty, both of us all dressed up, walking towards the metro with Les Invalides lit up across the Seine, and the Champs-Elysees stretching down towards the Arc de Triomphe, and I realized it's going to be tough leaving here. A lot tougher than I originally thought. It really is a charmed life here, and I'm going to be sad to see it come to an end. For this time, at least.

Also, here's a link to a site that has a collection of images on the Grand Palais.

Musee Marmottan Monet

The Musee Marmottan Monet is home to the largest collection of Monets in the world, in addition to some disparate tapestries, decorative arts, and older paintings. I checked it out today with my art history class, and it's worth going up there just to get a little bit outside of Paris. It's on the La Muette metro stop off the 9, which is a really tony residential area with amazing parks.

The highlight for me was the Camille Claudel exhibit, which is closing on the 31st. I've been interested in her ever since I saw the movie Camille Claudel in french class back in high school.

I'd definitely reccomend the museum for a quick jaunt out of busy central Paris. It's charming and definitely not too huge to have a go at it in an hour or so.

Summer approaches

So, just today got confirmation that I can indeed work with AIESEC in Tunisia this summer. So damn excited. Anyways, when I figure out the details I'll make them available. I'll probably be doing most of my work in Tunis, helping out with the Salaam program, some corporate contract stuff, presentations, etc.

Cafe L'Entrecote

Basically, the number one thing I spend money on here in Paris is food. I have an art history card, so lots of the museums are free, and if not, reduced price, wine is not too expensive, and I've been a pretty light traveler. So, since I'm dropping so many Euros on lunch/dinner, I've been trying to build up a little list of places I like to go.

For example, today, I stopped by Aygline's apartment to pick her up for a walk down to the place de Vosges (since, for some unexplainable reason, it is actually sunny in Paris). On the way back, we had lunch at one of my new favorite places, Cafe l'Entrecote. It's a pretty small and unassuming cafe about 2/3 of the way up Rue de la Roquette (right across the street from the clothing store Comptoir de Desert) from Bastille towards Place Voltaire (or Leon Blum, if you prefer). I'd been there last thursday for Meredith's birthday, and had really good food, so I figured it was worth another go.

The interior of the place is very charming without being overwrought. There's a few "french"posters and a cool little bar by the entrance that, given it's paris, there's more people drinking espressos than beer. The reason I stopped by is that they had a pretty amazing lunch deal, where you get a starter+main plate or plate + dessert plus a drink (including the option for a 1/4 of wine) for 12 Euros, which is not exactly highway robbery around these parts.

I chose the soupe a l'oignon and the magret de canard (essentially rare duck) with peppercorn sauce and, obviously, the 1/4 of red wine. It was all amazing. Not only that, but I had a real parisienne, Aygline, agree with me. We toasted to my recently departed grandmother, and had a very solid meal.

The place is about a 5-10 min walk up from Bastille and is worth the walk to get away from the overly touristy center of Bastille. If you go for dinner and order a steak frites with salad, you'll get it all on a big wooden cutting board, which I found to be a nice change from some of the overly stuffy and poorer quality french places around the city. Also, the seating is somewhat community-esque with long wooden tables, but it doesn't feel like a cafeteria at all.

Monsieur Propre

Mister Clean devient...

Mohammed VI

I just got back from Aix, Avignon, Arles and St. Remy, and I'll try to update soon on the trip, which was amazing. For the time being, I just read this article on Mohammed VI, king of Morocco. Basically, I found it interesting because it does give a sense of the omnipresence of the guy, who literally seems to be everywhere at once. Plus, you can't turn a corner without running into a royal palace.

I just picked up a one-way ticket from Marrakech to Paris on April 21. The two weeks before that are spring break, so I think I'm taking the train down through spain for a bit to see Barcelona and Madrid, then over to Lisbon, then down to the straits of Gibraltar to take a ferry over to Morocco to do random things around there for a week (probably rabat, casa, marrakech and essaouira).

Musee Gustave Moreau

Today I made a visit to one of the lesser-known museums in Paris, the Musee Gustave Moreau. Like the Musee Delacroix, it's the artist's former house, so there's also a lot of living space, with plenty of interesting furniture, ceramics, etc. Although it does kind of feel like a dollhouse, being a six-foot something American guy looking in on a 19th century apartment... the bed was absolutely tiny and there's no way I could squeeze my knees under their tables.

The museum is more of a collection of unfinished paintings and drawings than finished work, but it helps you see the process that went into all of his work. He was an amazing illustrator, and you can see these amazing sketches that are often Lord of the Rings-esque (but well before) in the paintings. I found all of the subject matter really interesting, as well as the treatment, which is academic in style, but with a totally new lens on how to view classical and biblical events in paintings. He definitely brought back a lot of form and beauty of a different type after impressionism. (On a side note, I know this is obvious, but Americans really like Impressionism, but a lot more than the French. Our fascination with Monet, etc is a lot different than the French. I heard as well that most of the major impressionist exhibitions always start in the states and then come to Europe.)

Moreau was also important because of his pupils, which in included Henri Matisse and Georges Roualt (who had an exhbition with the photographers Aaron Siskind -amazing photographer - and August Sander of all people at the Phillips Collection in DC not too long ago).

Anyways, I'd definitely reccomend checking out the museum, just beware of its very French habit to close during lunch for dejeuner.

Some links:

A few Moreau Paintings from the Orsay

Someone please buy me this picture by Lida Moser of Aaron Siskind...

The only completed painting at the Musee Moreau

As a sidenote, I'll be checking out Arles, Avignon, and Aix (quelle alliteration) this weekend.

A study break

Just wrapped up a 5 page primary document paper en Francais on colonial assimilation policies, and celebrated by watching the last five minutes of "Two Weeks Notice" (I'm not even going to get into the whole grammar issue raised by the title by Lynne Truss) dubbed in french (Sandra Bullock sounded awful, Hugh Grant's voice double worked).

Jsut today, I got an email from my dear friend Rachel called "Europe's Angry Young Muslims" which is also part of the BBC's excellently put-together page on Muslims in Europe(yes, I am a total BBC News fanboy, get over it. And no, American media doesn't measure up.). Rachel sent me the article because she was interested, given the fact that I'm here in Paris, what I'd seen or heard about what's going on.

Honestly, I think it's more telling as to what I don't hear/see in some ways. Paris is an interesting city in that it's one of the littlest big cities I've ever been in. Real Paris (aka inside the Peripherique) is chock full of monuments, museums, chic cafes, couturiers, and everything else de la mode. This is an expensive Paris (as I've found out. Thank you weak dollar.), this is a Paris that's eminently walkable and easy to get around thanks to reliable public transport if you're pressed for time and can't promenade down boulevard Haussman.

What I mean by that is that Paris central is different from many American cities (Philly, Detroit, etc) in that you don't see much white flight. Quite the contrary, in that the projects and poorer areas that were where the riots started are far removed from the city center, and honestly out of sight, out of mind for many of the richer folk in the center. The only time you see the projects if you choose not to live out there (as if it's a choice of residence...) is from the highway, or on semi-brave excursions to tourist attractions such as St. Denis. Even most of the homeless people (or, as the french say, S.D.F. = "sans domicile fixe" - gotta love french politically correct names for the disadvantaged) in the center are white.

These young angry muslims, as they're caracterized in the article, are far-removed from the city of lights that a tourist sees. Their city (actually, "cite" in french refers to the projects) is lacking public services, police protection, and general interest from the larger population (of course, lest they make themselves heard). Me, on the other hand, I'm here, living a life of cafes and museusms, something that isn't possible for so many of these young people who are more far-removed from society.

Another part of the problem, from what I've seen is that the public perception (ie: french perception) of the muslim population here is so multilayered. On one hand, you have the inevitable culture clash epitomized in battles such as the banning of headscarves, and on the other you have the problems of the "racailles" (loosely, thugs) such as Sarkozy famously declared when he was talking about the 2 young men who died and helped precipitate the Paris riots. I live in an area that can be described as having a brisk nightlife, since I'm not far from Pigalle (the "sex" district, ie: the Moulin Rouge and discotheques), and you can clearly see on a saturday night here the problems the french have with the muslim and immigrant youth. They come down in packs, talk to women, go around yelling and screaming, and in general abstain from acting "discret" (which, if you talk to the French, is one of their most prized character traits). Of course, this is a visible minority, and it poses a lot of problems in terms of public perception. Does anybody remember this summer when Oprah was turned away from the Hermes store? Their line was that they "were having trouble with North Africans lately."

The tricky part, as always, is finding middle ground in such a stratified social situations. I think of Washington DC, and how I never, ever, go down to the real Southeast for obvious reasons of bodily safety. We're talking about a city (DC) that has 12 times the national HIV prevalence rate. Am I guilty of the same errors, with the consequences being different only insofar as poor black youth in DC don't decide to blow themselves up on the metro? Ultimately, I'm not surprised that the muslim youth in Paris are upset (sorry to kind of use muslim/immigrant interchangeably, I know I'm a little lax with keeping the terminology 100% correct), and I'm not surprised that they're turning to radical methods. It's easy for a white american kid to stand back and act indignant, but I'm not going to spend any more time doing that. All of us have to get past that and start looking for solutions that aren't so superficial, whatever that may mean.

PS - I've been watching french tv while I'm writing this post, and Kristin Scott Thomas, the English actress, is on. She speaks amazing french, and it totally rekindled my English Patient-era crush.

Dimanche

This is an interesting article on everybody's favorite (ahem) painter, Thomas Kinkade...

I'll update on the weekend/Chantilly when I have some more time, I have midterms this week and a major paper on french colonialism in Madagascar...

Lainey and Kelsey, 2 friends from high school were in town this weekend on their first trip to Paris, so it was a whirlwind tour through everything. We seriously hit all the big sights/museums, and they even got to eat foie gras.

Only in France

I just ate foie gras and drank wine with a frozen dinner.

On another note, I checked out the Musee Delacroix today. It's a really small museum (actually it was his former house and where he passed away) with just a few exhibition rooms. The current expo is actually running in conjunction with the Ingres exhibit I saw at the Louvre last night. It has a few really colorful Delacroix sketches and pieces, and some smaller stuff by Ingres ( I assume anything important was taken by the 600-pound gorilla which is the Musee du Louvre).

From there, I took another visit to the Eglise St. Sulpice, which my host dad informed me is the largest church (in terms of square meters) in Paris.

There, I saw two amazing Delacroix frescoes. Here's a link to one of them.

Cartoons Revisited

Well, since I wrote a rather lengthy post about the Danish cartoons a week or so ago, I thought i'd follow up a bit with an article I just read on BBC News. This piece first piqued my interest because of Salman Rushdie, a man I've long been interested in for his progressive, although often violently received views on Islam. While he is best known more for the Fatwa declared against him and the ensuing violence than his books, he is also known today for his reformist stance on Islam.

I read about him on BBC back in August as he endorsed the Islamic Reformation (there's also a decent little overview of the precepts of it at wikipedia), and then again in September when he spoke out against the London Bombings. What makes this matter difficult to talk about is that Western culture finds its roots in dialectics, in questioning. I was always taught in school it's ok to ask questions. From Socrates and Plato to Abelard, it's been a common way (I even have an Abelard quote on my facebook) of looking at things. If one doesn't constantly question and re-evaluate, one ceases their search for any sort of tangible truth. I feel it's made western society much more open to that type of process today. While the Reformation in Europe wasn't exactly a bloodless affair (understatement of the week) it functioned, and it gained support because of a human desire for change and discontent with a system of worship, and a way of viewing God regarded by many (including me) as incredibly corrupted. If one were to nail some sort of reform manifesto on a mosque in Iran, they'd be hanged.

What's difficult then for me, is acknowledging my frame of mind and academic background when viewing all that is going on with Islam today. Being at best an Agnostic, I'm skeptical of religion in general, and I grow increasingly skeptical the more conservative and fanatical it gets (this applies to anything from Southern Baptistis to radical Islam). Ultimately, I think that Salman Rushdie's, and others' ideas on reformation hold sway with me because I can connect with them on an intellectual level, these are familiar, western concepts.. Equal rights for women? Of course. I witnessed so much gender discrimination in Morocco it made me sick. The men were in charge, and that was how it worked - it wasn't exactly easy for my mother, a child of the feminist movement, to visit me there.

I was unlucky enough to be browsing through a French magazine in the car to Bruges this weekend when I came across a picture of two men being prepared to be hanged, nooses around their necks. The caption noted that these two men were homosexual, and were being hanged in Iran, as 4000 fellow homosexuals had been since 1979 (the year of the Iranian revolution). The picture was absolutely heartbreaking. In addition to being upset for those poor men, I found myself outraged at the state in general of intolerance, not at all limited to Islam in any way, shape or form. Ultimately, any image I see that negatively impacts me is not representative of Islam, or of Muslims. One can't judge Christianity based on David Koresh or people who picketed the funeral of Matthew Shephard.

What one can look at is some sort of minimum standard of acceptable decency, and that's where I think the Islamic reformation has it right. While I'm not suggesting changing a religion, that's not my place, what I am suggesting is a look inwards. There's so much to look outwards to in the Muslim world these days, everything from Israel to Bush to Denmark (!). There are so many negative unifying forces out there that are blurring the awful problems present in these countries, from rampant unemployment, poor healthcare and sanitation, corrupt governments, and a lack of real suffrage. I talked to so many guys in Morocco that had women that they wanted to marry, but they couldn't even though they were 30 years old because they couldn't find a job. Not because they're lazy, but because there aren't any jobs to have with honestly around 50% unemployment! These are the real problems, not these inflammatory issues. Trust me, getting a Palestinian state isn't going to help unemployment in Libya. Burning a Danish consulate isn't going to allow for free elections in Saudi Arabia, and bombing the US isn't going to remove the rampant and overbloated bureaucratic government patronage systems in any country. I'm not trying to make light of these other issues, I'm only trying to say there needs to be perspective. Get upset, get mad, that's ok. Just get mad about what really matters in your everyday life, not what you've been told to make matter by some newspaper.

Petit Palais

Yesterday, I visited the Petit Palais, one of the many beautiful buildings around Paris built for the Universal Exposition of 1900. It's situated right across the street from the Grand Palais (trust me, they're both adequately large) which focuses more on temporary exhibitions (ie: where I saw "La Melancolie"). The Petit Palais is basically the Louvre and the Orsay in a nutshell, covering everything from Greek red-figure pottery to medieval and lots of 19th century art, such as pieces by Monet, Cezanne, and plenty of lesser-knowns. While the collection isn't quite as prestigious, it's also not an overly imposing trip such as going to Louvre is (tonight will be my 9th time, I'm checking out the new Ingres exhibit, and I still feel like a novice there). It's also free access to the permanent collection, which is a breath of fresh air. You'll mostly have to jockey with a bunch of nicely-dressed old people if you go during the week. I'd reccomend above all because of it's location. You pop out of the Champs-Elysee Clemenceau metro stop and you see Les Invalides across the river, and the two palaces right next to eachother in front of you. You're also a brisk walk to the Louvre past Place de Concorde and then through the Tuileries ( I know because the traffic on the #1 line was "perturbé" once and I had to run there for a class).