Lost and Found in Paris

Minneapolis

2006-06-07T14:42:00.000+02:00

So, it's 7:40 am in Minneapolis. Thanks to jetlag, I've been running on a string of 5am and 6am mornings since I got back into town on Saturday afternoon. I've got a rented copy of Transamerica on the television, and I just realized I should revisit this journal at least one more time before drawing it to a close.

The last entry I wrote was right before I headed off to Normandy and Nancy. Both were amazing. Normandy is green, beautiful, and very french- there's windmills and medieval houses and little country churches everywhere. Nancy has a lot of Art Nouveau architecture and a smaller city feel - nothing is too overbearing and it's not overly touristic.

The best way to describe my last week in Paris is that it was a whirlwind of running around the city, saying my goodbyes and trying rather unsuccessfully to get in a few hours of sleep when I could. This whole lack of sleep thing was exacerbated by the fact that my plane was canceled last minute on Thursday. United shacked me up in the Hotel Sofitel at the airport, and I left my bags out there and happily went back into Paris - I call it the best flight cancellation of all time. I spent another two days running around and finally crashed on my Saturday morning flight.

Now, it's Minneapolis. Despite the whole culture shock/emotional issues, I'm doing well here. It's green, the weather is beautiful, I have space, I have my family and friends - and it's something I keep on telling myself everyday and I'm coming around to pretty fast. I'm going to work on gathering my thoughts and getting a little more lucid about all of this, but I think I'll be writing a bit more as time goes on.

On the 68

2006-05-23T16:38:00.000+02:00

Today I went down to the Student Cafeteria over by Port Royal, home of the best cafeteria pizza around town. After, I headed down to the SNCF Boutique to buy some train tickets to finish up my traveling around France - I leave for Normandy tomorow to stay with some neighbors at their place outside of Dieppe, then I'm coming back to Paris Saturday morning and leaving later that afternoon to spend a night in Nancy.

Why Nancy? Well, it turns out that Lyon's trains are all full on Sunday, as are Bordeaux's. So, luckily I was with my friend Emma, and she pulled out a map and was like, "Nancy!" and lo and behold, we're gonna be there for a night. I'm actually really excited, it's got amazing art nouveau architecture, and a few great museums and some solid, heartier food from Lorraine.

Anyways, so after I hopped on the 68 Bus for the tour across Paris - down Boulevard Raspail, up and across the Seine by the Louvre, then down to Opera, and finally Place de Clichy. I put on Steely Dan's "Pretzel Logic" - yeah, you know what I'm talking about - and grooved out for a while. Time here has been passing by so quickly lately it's been hard to get a handle on my rapidly diminishing time left - at this point I only have like 5 nights or so left in Paris proper.

Tomorrow I'm heading out to Normandy to explore some castles and, as my host dad, who's tagging along, reminded me, help the neighbor chop wood. So, I'll bring along the Chateaubriand and try to be as French as possible until I leave.

The Garden Party

2006-05-22T12:26:00.000+02:00

Yesterday was an event Jacques had been reminding me about for the last two weeks, his sister's garden party out in the suburbs. Since I've been here, he's been unsuccessfully trying to convince me to bike around the Parisian streets on his rickety second bike, and I've refused up until now (factor in that he considers helmets "ugly" and never wears/owns them).

As we approached Sunday, he wouldn't stop talking about the beautiful bike path we were going to take, as I noticed his gradual increases in admitted distance into what was going to become a 28km round-trip bike ride. So, as Sunday came around, I woke up groggily after a long Saturday night to see Jacques impatiently waiting downstairs in a tie and blazer. Throwing on some khakis, a tie, a blazer, and some polka-dot socks because, hell, it's a garden party, we headed out. I don't know if I can adequately describe how ridiculous we looked. Two incredibly white guys biking through Pigalle and over towards Stalingrad, Jacques with a wicker basket on his bike with the host's present, large tortoiseshell 50's-era Ray-Bans, and I with my right polka-dot sock tucked into my khakis - both of us in our Sunday best.

We made good time at first, dodging the traffic in Pigalle, and enduring the stares of quite literally hundreds of people. Unfortunately, even the clearly-labeled bike path was more of an abstract, nebulous concept for the Parisian drivers, and I had to avoid getting nicked a few times, which would've been disastrous without a helmet. After going all the way West, we turned Northeast and went past Parc de la Villette, past the baby strollers, and up the canal for another solid 8-9 kilometers.

Getting there, I soon realized Jacques and I were definitely the most dressed up people there. It was more of a family barbeque, with all of the husband's secret service and secret society (think French Masons) there - I'm not kidding. But, these were liquored-up secret servicemen dancing to "YMCA" and "Dancing Queen" with their kids, all wearing designer t-shirts. The worst part was that I couldn't cut loose too much - more than a bit of wine and I'd have trouble on the 14km return trip... (not to mention all the laughs I got when I asked for water from the bartender).

The party turned out well, despite the fact there was really nobody within ten years of my age on either side of my 22 years. I made buddies with one of the older secret society guys, who was clearly important by the way he held court around a plastic table. He liked my Camper shoes though, so we got along well.

The return bike trip was another story. We got off on another good start, racing back into the city for a dinner party we had over at La Muette. Despite a small bit of shame for enduring jokes from passing racailles, we made it into the city in one piece, and headed down towards Place de Clichy. This is when the tempest hit. It was already windy, and we'd had some tough going on the canal, but we ran full into a storm 3 kilometers from home. We're talking one of those bone-drenching, sheets of water storms where you can't do anything but cower for shelter. Finally, I made it back, a much wetter version of myself than when I left, but still in one piece.

Flip-flops

2006-05-18T01:14:00.000+02:00

So, before I go to bed tonight, I have to tell this little story, just because it's so incredibly French.

Earlier, I stopped out to meet Meredith and we went by Monoprix to pick up some food to cook for dinner. When she called me from outside, I was just wearing a pair of Havaianas flip-flops for lounging around the apartment. Being lazy, and finally sticking my middle finger at European fashion sense, I rolled out of my place still wearing my flip-flops.

All was fine until I was heading back to the apartment with my groceries when I looked onto the street and saw my friend Mario, who lives in the building, coming towards the apartment. He looked at me, and laughed - "coming from the beach?" He laughed a bit, and I introduced him to Meredith, etc. I made a joke about how I always wear them in the States. He couldn't really get over it, "but we're in Paris" he said, clearly not understanding. He laughed a bit more, repeatedly looking down at my meager footwear. We BS'ed a bit as we walked up the stairs, and as he left, he said "make sure to wash your feet off."

Anyways, just one of those little cultural moments. I've honestly avoided wearing flip-flops up until now because I know it's not too French or anything, and I guess first time out, I reap the consequences. Oh, and for those of you wondering about a French guy named Mario, he's actually half Portuguese.

Sights Roundup

2006-05-17T14:56:00.000+02:00

Well, even though the British are here, that hasn't really interrupted getting around Paris, I wasn't expecting a crowd of jersey-clad fans at the Musee de la Vie Romantique today...

I checked out the Catacombs yesterday, which are basically a series of underground tunnels you enter over by Place Denfert Rochereau (look for the green door). It's about 1.6 km long, and houses the remains of thousands upon thousands of people - whose bones were put under Paris due to the constant overcrowding of Paris cemetaries throughout the centuries. Literally, it's a lot of bones, stacked high on both sides of the tunnel. There's a few little eerie stopoff points with tombs or inscriptions as well. Not bad, but not something I'd reccomend if you're only in Paris for a few days - it was mostly American college tourists.

Also, I forgot to mention I turned 22 years young on Monday. Celebrated with food over by St. Germain - was a good time but I was a little bummed out because most of my American friends left this weekend for the States, so there's only a few of them around now.

Today, I spent the morning at the Musee de la Vie Romantique and I also finally went inside the Opéra Garnier. The Musee de la Vie Romantique is the museum of the life of George Sand, the nom de plume of the Baroness Dudevant. She spent her life writing and engaging in some of the great romances of the day with men such as Chopin and Delacroix. Although not exceptionally pretty (as you can see on her portrait at Wikipedia), she was fiercely intelligent and an early proponent of women's rights. The museum, on Rue Chaptal right off Rue Blanche, is a two-story house containing portraits and personal artifacts, and a great garden/tea area. The permanent collection is free access, so it's a great place to go and get away from some of the crazier parts of Paris. Also, the museum has a large collection of Sand's personal effects, jewelry, etc, which are very beautiful. The museum also has a temporary exhibition space that costs a few euors if you don't have an art history card. Right now there's a Picasso exhibit that chronicles his work with the engraver Piero Cromelynck (I found an English obituary here). There's a number of plates and prints, plus a series of erotic prints made by Picasso and also a room of presents - paintings/drawings Picasso did for Piero of his daughter and himself. It's cool to see "for Piero" with Picasso's signature on the bottom of lots of the drawings. Also, I'd reccomend reading more into the life of George Sand, everything from her royal heritage - she descends from the Saxes, who ruled Poland, and was also related to numerous French kings - to her liasons and her wonderful books are worth the time spent.

As for the Opera. I've passed by it so many times on the 68 Bus, but I've never gone inside until now. There's not much to say about it besides that it's gorgeous, obviously. Beautiful architecture, paintings, etc. Make sure to go when you can see inside the amphitheatre, because it's great to see all the red velvet chairs lined up and the stage. On the ceiling of the amphitheatre is a gigantic Chagall ceiling, which replaced the original, end of the 17th century one. I had a conversation with my host dad, and he explained it was there because of the changing fashion in Paris at the time, which I think is really too bad. As cool as the Chagall mural is, it's out of place with all of the baroque furnishings and decor.

Oh, and how can I forget the Star Wars: L'Expo. The Cite des Sciences is holding an Expo on all things Star Wars, and I went there yesterday with some buddies to geek it out for a while. Mission accomplished. I'm sure it's not high on many people's lists unless you're a fan like me, but it is worth a bit of time to see various movie props, concept sketches, etc, although there's nothing earth-shattering there.

The Da Vinci Code opens in Paris tonight. It goes without saying I have to see it here before I leave. The reviews I read out of Cannes sound mixed, but I'm still down.

The British are Coming

2006-05-17T14:41:00.000+02:00

The British have descended on Paris like a fat, drunken apocalypse. Right now, out of my window overlooking a seemingly peaceful Parisian terrace, I can hear the fight song of Arsenal FC being sung. Sorry, the verb to sing implies maybe a modicum of artistic merit. These are drunken (keep in mind it's 2:45pm as I'm writing this), out of tune, overweight British soccer fans yelling something that sounds like "get out of the way, get out of the way" ad nauseum. As of now, they've invaded most of the bars around Place de Clichy, or any place that serves 2-pint beer glasses in preparation for the Champions League final being held in Paris at the Stade de France against FC Barcelona.

Last night, I went over by the Bastille to have a glass of wine at Cafe de Bastille before having dinner at Le Petit Bofinger. I was hoping for a relaxing hour or so with Meredith to do some people watching when we soon realized they'd came. We'd seen them earlier on the metro in their jerseys, blocking the moving walkway at the Chatelet Metro Station, trying to unwrap sandwiches and pop open beers. These same English soccer fans had been drinking for several hours at Kilty's Irish Pub on the Place de Bastille. These guys were loaded. We're talking spilling out into the streets, blocking traffic, staring down buses (and almost getting run over by one of them) and hoisting mugs high while belting out the Arsenal fight song, which is still managing to pierce through the tranquility of the garden by the apartment as I'm writing this.

Anyways, after tonight, they'll probably head out, or maybe some meek FC Barcelona fans will get out on the town as well, we'll see. I'm just not really looking forward to an Arsenal win tonight, even though I'd love to see them pull through against Barcelona - Thierry Henry is my favorite player.

Jean-Luc Godard at the Centre Pompidou

2006-05-15T00:02:00.000+02:00

Well, it's more like "kind of Jean-Luc Godard" at the Centre Pompidou. Jacques tossed me an invite to the opening (or "vernissage") of the expo for last wednesday. I showed up, date on arm, only to read the program after walking into the exhibition space a little mystified. The program reads "this is not an expo for Godard, but 'of' Godard." What the hell does that mean? Well, it turns out that the expo is largely a collection of video screens beaming a collection of movies not made by Godard over two different and large rooms. Take, for example, a scene from Ben Hur, Black Hawk Down, or even hardcore pornography (we're talking freaky here). Add in random collections of shrubbery, metal fencing, beds, and miniature rooms with video iPods cranking out, well, videos, and you've got yourself quite an exhibition.

For example, in one display, you see a doll that represents a Modigliani painting that just happened to appear briefly in a scene in Pierrot le Fou, one of his cooler films, thanks in a large part to the still-cool at the epoch Jean-Paul Belmondo. Anyways, that's about as clear of a reference as you're going to get. Also, nothing is titled. And the program's headings aren't exactly 100% obvious.

Searching for some explanations, I asked the host dad, who works one floor above where the project team for the Godard expo spent two years putting stuff together. He explained that originally, Godard was behind the idea of the exhibition, but spent literally two years not responding to phone calls and letters. He didn't respond. Not once. Much to the hair-tugging anguish of the director of the exhibition, who was kind of counting on some help from the director himself, who is, certifiably at this point in his life a little bit bonkers, even if he is a cinematic genius and one of the major founders of modern cinema...

St. Malo

2006-05-14T23:30:00.000+02:00

So, it turns out I didn't go to Normandy after all this weekend, as I found out instantly from the wide-eyed stare of my host dad's mother when I told her how happy I was to be in Normandy. St. Malo, for those who care, is actually in Brittany (which is a big deal for the rather region-centric French - up until the Middle Ages Brittany, or Bretagne, had its own local language, Breton). While I was there, I spent my time at thouse of my host dad's mother. Jacques' Mother is one of those old wives of a french seaman who keeps a display of sabres and sailor gear in the dining room. She's going blind and likes to yell, and loved that I can eat more meat the average androgynous french young man.

There's a decent site on St. Malo over at Wikipedia to get a better feel for the town. The town functioned for a long time as an important guard against the English, which is easy to see when you're anywhere around the town. Numerous forts dot the islands aroung the town, some designed by the famous military architect Vauban. The fortifications, especially for a castle geek such as myself, provide plenty of a reason to visit. In fact, up until World War Two, the town was never taken, despite many Briths attempts to the contrary. One of their most famous involves turning an old warship into a powderkeg called the "Infernal Machine" and letting it loose against St. Malo. It was caught up in the rocks surrounding the city and never got close enough, exploding in a huge fireball which blew out many of the windows in St. Malo.

Also, thanks to host dad, who knows the curator of the Duchal Castle on one side of St. Malo, I got to go through a private tour of the off-limits ramparts of the castle. So damn cool. It really gives you a sense of how incredibly well-protected this city was.

Well, besides the swashbuckling adventures of the town and it's various offspring such as Jacques Cartier, there's also the beach. Don't forget the beach. St. Malo is right on the channel, and I spent a lot of my time when I wasn't on a bicycle zooming between fortifications taking in some salty air and dipping my toes gingerly in the water (I don't take well to cold water).

Normandy for the Weekend

2006-05-12T14:59:00.000+02:00

I'm off to join my host dad at his mother's place in St. Malo. He told me to bring along a swimsuit, so I'm looking forward to getting out of Paris for a bit and just relaxing, since finals just ended on Thursday. From now on, it's smooth sailing...

I'll update when I get back on the Jean-Luc Godard opening I went to at the Pompidou on Wednesday, and whatever else has been going on around here. Things have been hectic, lots of goodbyes as most people are leaving Paris right after the program ends (ie: most are heading out this weekend).

About.com French

2006-05-07T20:29:00.000+02:00

This is a site I've been going to for the last year and a half or so to bone up on my french. It's updated almost every day and does a good job of keeping up with "argot" or slang, plus useful lessons and more - highly reccomended.

Palais de Tokyo

2006-05-06T17:40:00.000+02:00

I know I mentioned in my last post that I went to the Palais de Tokyo, but I want to talk a bit more about it, since it's really about as modern as one can get for an art in Paris - everything on display is from artists ranging from my age to their sixties. It just opened up in January, 2002, and is facing the end of its first batch of curators, which are to be rotated every five years to keep what's happening fresh and different. So, for their last expo, the curators are showing what they feel will be the most important artists of the future - and it's an interesting mix.

What sometimes is odd for me about seeing super-contemporary art is that in many ways, it's incredibly nebulous. Art has basically succeeded in becoming absolutely anything. There's no more medieval craftsman's guilds or neoclassical rigidity or even the burden of having to paint what one sees. We've succeeded, through this gigantic series of reactions upon reactions, of basically reacting against everything rigid in art. What's difficult for me is that, after spending some time at my favorite place - the Musee Gustave Moreau, and then going to check out the Greek and Roman Antiquities at the Louvre today - is that these are things that are marvels. Be it red figure pottery or one of the fantastical designs of Moreau, a man that taught Matisse and many other important painters, you get a real palpable sense of a creation. In super-contemporary art, which is often incredibly esoteric to begin with, it's hard for me to stare at a watermelon on a stand in the Palais de Tokyo. I guess what I'm trying to say is that art is anything, everything. While I appreciate the possibility of expression opened up, it's also disheartening to walk into a museum and literally not even want to take a second look at half of the works.

That's not to say there aren't good things at the Tokyo, there are plenty, and I'd reccomend it as well because it's open until midnight, and there's no better way to get a sense of being hip and Parisian. Also, the boutique and bookstore are both incredibly cool - perfect place to buy a gift for someone who's kind of eclectic. Also, I saw a lot of kids there - some of the works are interactive and it's almost like being in a science museum - I'd reccomend it for that.

Wine on the Terrace

2006-05-04T23:20:00.000+02:00

I just got back from a few delightful bottles of wine on the terrace with Jacques and his friend Francoise (note to self: stop writing blog entries while under the influence). Anyways, in between the chocolate and strawberries, and of course, wine, I began to have one of those awful realisations that I'm leaving this place. While Jacques was admonishing me for not yet reading Proust, I almost welled up with tears, knowing this would be one of the last times I'd face shock and disbelief for not being completely au courant with all manner of French culture. "Wait, you've never read Tocqueville? Quelle horreur." While Jacques and Francoise spent the next 30 minutes debating the merits of Proust and a litany of other important French authors, I proceeded to listen, and drink, and eat strawberries all along.

This proclivity for haughty cultural talk, which might be termed mental masturbation in the States, definitely plays an important role here. I'll never forget being in the toilet room of some good family friends (which also happens to contain a bookshelf), and looking straight on at Voltaire, Moliere, and all other manner of French masterworks, all in pocket editions, spines well-creased by repeated readings. I took the bait from Francoise tonight and she's going to make a list. A list I predict will be exceedingly long, covering all the essential "bases" of Frenc literature.

On another note, Paris has really sprung into its own, weather-wise. Spring is here, and hopefully to stay. Everything has become beautiful and green. Everything has also started to become hot as I've realized the sad truth of the matter - Paris is not air-conditioned. And it's not even summer yet. I went to Palais de Tokyo last night - the contemporary art museum (ie: artists my age to 60-something) - and devolved into a pool of sweat in their upper floor, which for some reason was literally over 90 degrees (and it's only been in the 70s outside).

80 Best Bistros in Paris

2006-05-01T19:42:00.000+02:00

Here's a link to the article. There goes my wallet. I'll try to check out a few on the list before I head out of here.

Rene Magritte at the Musee Maillol

2006-04-30T16:30:00.000+02:00

"This is not a Pipe" or "The Treachery of Images"

The Musee Maillol, right off the Rue de Bac metro stop, is holding a really fun Magritte expo I just saw today. While I know this isn't the most academic way to describe it, I've always liked Magritte because I always get a chuckle out of him. His stuff is silly and absurb, but also spot-on and often pretty funny. For instance, one of the drawings (the expo is called "Tout en Papier" - all on paper, so there are no paintings) shows a man painting a bird onto a canvas, while he looks at an egg on a table - and the title is "Le Clairvoyant." Anyways, without giving away too much more, I'd reccomend checking it out for a little breath of fresh air. Magritte has always been one of the most original artists.

More on Jane Jacobs

2006-04-30T16:25:00.000+02:00

Well, Kottke.org is still putting up posts on Jane Jacob's legacy, and this one's also interesting as far as urban space is concerned.

Cities are a "Clash of Scales" Article

Avant-Garde Art in the 13th Arrondisement

2006-04-29T19:22:00.000+02:00

Found this article on Gridskipper. Here's the text, and head to the article for a lot of links related to it...

You want to see the real contemporary art scene in Paris? You’ll have to schlep a little. Get off the metro at Chevaleret (line 6) and head for rue Louise Weiss, rue Duchefdelaville, and rue du Chevaleret. The galleries in this part of town will give you a taste for the up-and-coming young artists – some, but not all, from Paris. Opening hours can be a little erratic, so check before heading for the 13th arrondissiment.

The district is always under construction, and it’s seen the emergence of a succession of galleries in recent years. Originally set up as a community project, various organizations shared rent on premises that could be divided up, also sharing invitation lists and holding joint openings. There’s such a joint vernissage on Saturday, April 29, at 4 p.m.; the next one is June 8. Interesting gallery standouts include Kréo, devoted entirely to design; or Jousse Entreprise, which exhibits both 1950s furniture and contemporary art. It was in this area that Emmanuel Perrotin (now in the Marais with the old guard) originally took a gamble on the Japanese artist Takashi Murakami before he landed the Louis Vuitton bags. The best bets this coming weekend are probably Galerie Magda Daynz, showing Miss Van’s super-sexy graffiti; and Galerie Praz-Delavallade, showing Iranian-born and Switzerland-based video artist Shahryar Nashat. Miss Van’s after-show party is at La Suite – to get on the guest list, email aftershow@magda-gallery.com. Other recommended venues to visit include Air de Paris, Galerie GB Agency, Galerie Almine Rech, and Galerie Suzanne Tarasieve.

I'll see what I can do about going over and checking out some galleries, even though time is kind of turning into a premium since I'm down to my last month.

Chateau de Vincennes, Mini Golf & Parc Floral photos

2006-04-29T14:24:00.000+02:00

The Keep of Chateau de Vincennes

About to shoot a 2 on the Arc de Triomphe

Notre Dame is mine

After finishing off the Eiffel Tower... Hole #18

Le Mini Golf and other things

2006-04-28T19:16:00.000+02:00

Today, after having to make a quick trip down to the study center to record a cassette with a 5-min "personal summary" of my stay in Paris for class, I met up with a friend and headed out to Chateau de Vincennes. We had really wanted to check out the new Magritte expo at the Musee Maillol, but it'll be there for a while, and nice days in Paris are always less than a sure thing. The Chateau itself is pretty interesting, having grown up reading David Macaulay's Castle (basically one of the best books and companion dvd of all time) and about three hundred other books on knights and castles and such, I was a little let down by the lack of "medieval-ness." However, there is very cool but small keep that was the home of Saint Louis, but it's under renovation until March 2007. Overall, it's good for a walk, but you won't be running across battlements, pretending to shoot a bow and arrow (or maybe that's just what I do...).
After, we found out that the Floral Park is right on the backside of Chateau de Vincennes, and since it was still gorgeous out, we headed over and spent a few hours going around there. There's some sort of Japanese expo going on now which includes Japanese artwork, performances, and I assume, flowers.
The highlight was the mini golf. Yes, mini golf in Paris (well, technically outside the peripherique I think). Let me say first that the state of mini golf in the States is a lot more solid, but this was still a fun time, even though it was all asphalt. What made it such a riot, despite the awful hole design, was the theme: Paris. Every single hole has a weather-resistant little replica of a Parisian monument. It's so kitschy. For instance, the hole for the Pompidou one involves hitting your ball inside the mini shop class replica of the Pompidou (which is actually like an impressive 3-4 ft high) and then up a ramp and down one of the external ducts into a hole. The Sacre Coeur one is actually situated on an incline, and you have to give the rubber ball quite a tap to make it inside the Sacre Coeur, before it shoots it out another entrance and down to the hole. Also, it must be said that the Tour Eiffel is hole 18.
After, I stopped by the Louvre for a bit to check out the Tintoretto/Venice temporary exhibit, which is actually just one room, but presents a number of interpretations of "le paradis" from different artists who were all vying for the same commission in Venice, which Tintoretto ultimately received. I also checked out the Medieval Beaux-Arts - which has a sizeable collection from St. Denis Abbey, including stuff that belonged to the great Abbot Suger.

Rich Artists, Bad Art?

2006-04-28T10:02:00.000+02:00

Here's an article from the Guardian on the perils/successes of being rich and an artist. One forgets that artists such as Picasso, Monet, and Dali actually did profit from their success - often it's the other side that gets the most attention: the suicidal or starving artists such as Van Gogh or even Rothko.

Jane Jacobs and Urban Planning

2006-04-27T17:41:00.000+02:00

Well, since I'm in Paris, one of the big urban centers of the world, I don't think I could really pass up at least noting the passing of Jane Jacobs, who died on Tuesday. I'll admit that I'd only heard about her book, The Death and Life of Great American Cities, before. It's been on my mental must-read list for the last year, but you know how those lists go, or don't go. I've mentioned before, I'm a big reader of Kottke.org, because Jason Kottke posts on stuff he finds interesting, and the stuff he finds interesting is in general interesting, so it all works out. Anyways, he's been doing a bit on Jane Jacobs since she passed away, putting up some links to articles, etc, and I've gotten more and more into what she was all about. I think a good start is this article here from Slate.com, which is a consistently interesting and relevant site. Here's an excerpt:
Jacobs' own prescription, inasmuch as she had one, was based on an appreciation of the vitality of traditional urban neighborhoods, in particular Greenwich Village in New York, where she lived. Lively and interesting street life, a diversity of uses, residential areas intensified by parks and squares and public buildings, a mixture of old and new buildings, and the importance of what she called districts—areas with a functional and recognizable identity—these were the ingredients of successful urban neighborhoods. Compared with the ambitious and innovative ideas of architects and planners, it sounded ridiculously simple, not to say simplistic.

And here's the last paragraph:

That vision of the urban good life had wide appeal, but the supply of old cities that offered the requisite mix of street life, architecture, and diversity was limited. The lively city districts that Jacobs championed, including her beloved Village, have become exclusive enclaves, closed to all but the extremely wealthy. She always considered the amenities of city life to be everyday and widely available goods. Little could she have imagined then that they would become luxuries instead.

This is the part that I found the most interesting and unfortunate, because it's a truth I can see here, in Paris, but also easily in Washington DC or in Minneapolis. Types of areas such as the Marais in Paris, Dupont Circle or Adams Morgan in DC, or Uptown in Minneapolis all have a lot of the ingredients that Jane Jacobs was talking about, but less and less of the access. Living in any of these areas (or increasingly, a city in general), has become an expensive proposition - which nullifies a lot of the vibrancy that creates that initial demand. I wonder where some sort of equilibrium can be found between money, security, vibrancy, and individuality in urban space. Is it even possible?

20 Years Later: Chernobyl

2006-04-26T22:54:00.000+02:00

Outside the Paris vein, obviously, but there's a moving photo essay on Chernobyl here: http://todayspictures.slate.com/inmotion/essay_chernobyl/

I think part of the problem with a disaster like Chernobyl is that everyone knows it happened, knows it was awful, but until you see some of these pictures, it's hard to grasp how awful it truly is. In this new era where we can't shup up about nuclear bombs, these pictures are worth a look.

Juergen Teller, Tadanori Yokoo and Italia Nova

2006-04-26T20:33:00.000+02:00

Today was a big day for museums. Before lunch, I checked out the Juergen Teller and Tadanori Yokoo exhibits at the Fondation Cartier. Juergen Teller is most known these days for his shoots for Marc Jacobs or Yves Saint Laurent, but his expo at the Cartier is a lot more personal. While there are a few shots of Kate Moss in various poses, most are more simple, and involve his children or his wife, or even just nude shots of himself. I'd highly reccomend checking it out.

The other part of the Cartier's current exhibit is a Japanese artist, Yokoo, who is compelling to say the least. I wish I had read more before I had gone in, because there's a lot of references and such in his work that seem really esoteric, but also definitely worth gaining a fuller understanding of. Most of the paintings in the exhibit are from his "red period," so literally, expect a lot of red.

Later this evening, I checked out the nocturne of Italia Nova at the Grand Palais, which is a retrospective on Italian Art from 1900-1950. It's a quick hop through all the major periods in Italian Art from that period - Futurism to Magical Realism to Tabula Rasa. I'd reccomend it purely for the educational value - there's some amazing de Chiricos and everything is explained very thoroughly. While I didn't like all the periods of art, it was a great introduction to Italian Modernism. There's going to be some rooms you dislike and some you love, but that's the way it goes with modern art. My favorite were the paintings on Magical Realism - I loved way in which the artists depicted people and their surroundings. This is a good partner exhibit to the Rousseau, just beware that they are separate exhibits on opposite sides of the aptly-named Grand Palais, and both cost 8 Euros with student reduction, and 10 Euros without.

Quick vs McDonalds

2006-04-23T21:33:00.000+02:00

I just finished up a pasta dinner full of things Jacques brought back from his trip to Italy - Parmesan Reggiano, Italian Sausage, and fresh olive oil. I also had a bit of wine. Actually, quite a bit - enough to have my head light enough to discuss the various merits and downsides of the two competing burger fast food chains in France.

First, I feel a little bit of background is necessary. Paris is an expensive city. It's hard to eat out for under 10 Euros, and you should reasonably expect 15-20 Euros for a decent meal including some sort of drink. Given the awful exchange rate here that has consistently been kicking my bank account's rear end since I got here, we're looking at easily over $20 for a decent meal out. Of course, there are other options. I've mentioned the Student Cafes, which I do go often for lunch during the week. There's also cheap asian places, with prix fixe menus at around 6 Euros for something like an entree, a plate, and some rice. Of course, these places can often be the food poisoning express, as many of my american and french friends have found out. There's also the obvious choice - cook for yourself. Which I do. Every morning I do breakfast at home, and most dinners during the week involve something from Monoprix, ATAC, or Picard.

The problem that often arises is that Paris is such a social city. Dinner parties are a major part of your social life in Paris. With so much amazing food around, it's hard to avoid them. If you spend a day out and about, such as I did today going to various expos, you're going to find yourself undoubtedly in some random corner of Paris with an empty stomach.

This is where fast food rears its affordable head. You can eat for under 6 Euros, no worries about slow waiters, overpriced tourist trap food, and you know what you're getting. Fast food for me is what I eat when I need to refuel on the run.

The two big options, as I've mentioned, are Quick and McDonalds. Quick, or "Quality Burger Restaurant" is as far as I can tell, a French chain. And honestly, it's pretty awful. It's more expensive that McDonalds and not nearly as good. Avoid it at all costs, and don't say I didn't warn you. Their "gourmet" monthly sandwiches and everything might sound inviting, but they're flavorless and overpriced.

McDonalds, on the other hand, is the roi of french fast food. McDonalds in France is surprisingly not bad and has a particular French take that separates it from the American ones. For instance, they have espresso. Yes, you heard me right, you can get (mediocre) espresso at McDo. There's also another option for french fries, which are larger "Grands Patates" or whatever they call them, and are potato wedges with a sour cream dipping sauce. If I were you, I would avoid the Croque McDo, which is McDonald's overpriced and poor take on the croque monsieur. Also, the Royal Bacon is delicious, as are their Strawberry (fraise) Milkshakes.

One of the hard things for me is that their menu is basically English. Chicken McNuggets in France are still Chicken McNuggets, but with a french accent on them. They become "cheekenn Meecnuggehts." Same for words like Milkshake or McFlurry or le Big Mac. I've actually tried just saying them in English, but the cashiers always look at me quizzically.

Also, the French absolutely love McDonalds. Love. There are always lines at the Place de Clichy McDonalds. It was also the case in Barcelona, where lines were out the door at the La Ramblas location. I think a big part of the reason they love it so much is what I mentioned before about food prices. You see a lot of younger people there that really don't have any other options for food. It's not like kids go around eating onion soup and duck breast everyday, as appetizing as that might be.

Back in the Saddle

2006-04-23T17:57:00.000+02:00

After two weeks of being out of Paris, I jumped back into the fray on saturday, after taking friday off to get some japanese food and see "V pour Vendetta." I finally went over to see the very solid Dora Maar exhibit at the Musee Picasso. It chronicles her relationship with the painter through photos and memorabilia collected after her death in 1997, along with portraits of her by Picasso and plenty of his other works. One of the highlights, besides all the amazing candid shots of Picasso is the Guernica series, where she photographed him during the making of his masterpiece. So you see the evolution from the blank canvas to finished product in stages.

After that, I walked around the Marais for the afternoon, which is quite a sight on a beautiful saturday. The streets were packed with people, as were all the shops and cafes lining the narrow streets. A promenade around Paris is an experience on many levels. Besides the amazing coffee and food to be found, there's also the Parisiennes out for spring. That was followed by a barbeque out at Bois de Vincennes with some friends of Andrew's, then off to an apartment party over by Rue St. Maur.

Today was "Museum Day." Basically, I have this list of exhibitions I still need to see, and I figured today was a good time to cross off three of them. I started out by going to the Grand Palais to see the Henri Rousseau exhibit - Jungles in Paris. I kind of go back and forth on Rousseau, some of his stuff is really not skilled enough and comes off as childish. In other works, his simple style really comes through and helps the painting, especially with his jungle paintings which are the centerpiece of the exhibit. I'd reccomend it at the least just for the opportunity to see something a little different. Beware though, Grand Palais doesn't really take History of Art student cards for free admission, I had to pay 8 Euros, which I haven't had to do in a long time with that card.

I hopped across the street to the new Peru exhibit at the Petit Palais. It covers works such as pottery, metal, jewelry, and textiles on all of the separate pre-Spanish Peruvian empires. The highlight for me was the Moche who were a very aggressive empire, known for rather explicit or violent imagery. Their artifacts because especially famous after the discovery of the Lord of Sipan - which I studied in archaelogy last semester and is basically the King Tut of new world archaelogy. I'd highly reccoment this exhibit, it doesn't overwhelm you but provides lots of background information on all the successive empires and their artistic styles, geography, and history.

Since it was nice out, I took the walk down along the Seine to the Louvre, where I used my Louvre Card to bypass the ever-growing lines of spring. I went there specifically to see the new Islamic art exhibit called "From Cordoba to Samarquand" which is a small exhibit put on in conjunction with the under construction (and I.M. Pei-designed) Museum of Islamic Arts in Doha, Qatar. It's only a few pieces, no more than 50, but they're all unbelievable. Seeing the calligraphy got me really excited for my Arabic classes next year. After that, I did the complete circuit of all of the French and Northern School paintings, everything from Le Brun and Poussin to Vermeer, Van Dyck and Rembrandt. I am now officially all arted out. Until I go and see the Juergen Teller thing tomorrow at the Fondation Cartier.

My day was only spoiled by the rain, as was everyone else's as I sat outside of the Centre Pompidou eating a French excuse for a muffin from Starbucks. On a side note, it looks like the whole Tunisia thing is on the rocks this summer. It's probably not going to be a big wage-earning job, and eventually we all have to get around to that type of stuff. Off to the salt mines of Minneapolis it's looking like.

Camel's Milk

2006-04-21T19:48:00.001+02:00

I'm linking to this article on camel's milk only because I had the (mis)fortune of trying it in Morocco this summer. For lack of a better expression it's not quite my cup of tea. Salty and kind of odd. I could see it being a hit with the health nut/bourgeoisie Trader Joe's crowd as this article suggests...

Paris to Marrakech (and back)

2006-04-21T18:40:00.000+02:00

So I'm back in Paris, chilling the in relative comfort of the guest room at my place (the only place I can find "Jenny WiFi" - the only unencrpyted WiFi around). This morning, I woke up at 6:30 at the Hotel Islane in Marrakech, which is a 2 minute walk to the Djemaa el Fnaa ("Square of the Dead" - where they used hold public beheadings) in Marrakech. Steven and I got out the door by 7:00 and luckily my slightly expanded Moroccan Arabic vocabulary helped us get a decent price from a petit taxi to the Marrakech-Menara airport for a flight back up to Paris.

Anyways, from that point, there probably needs to be a fair bit of rewinding. I need to write about Aix-en-Province, Barcelona, Algeciras/Gibraltar, Tangiers, Rabat, and Marrakech... I'll see what I can do. For now, I'll just post a few highlights:

- Unfortunately only Steven got to see me geek out at this, but I flipped out when we got to see Gibraltar. The rock is basically impregnable and still remains a British military base. Eisenhower was there during World War Two, and... yeah. I'll stop there. Trust me, it's cool.

- Seeing my buddies in Rabat was great and surreal. When you associate a place so closely with a particular period of time in your life, it's weird to go back, even though this summer isn't that far in the past, I've been in Minnesota, Washington, and Paris since, so I'd reallly built up distance. Get this: I taught the Moroccans how to bowl at the Mega Mall in Rabat, and I also taught them how to play Beer Pong with some Casablanca Beer. American culture 101. It also helped I was there with Steven.

- When I got into Marrakech yesterday, I headed straight for Restaurant Chegrouni, which has the best Tajines I've ever found in a restaurant in Morocco. The time before that I was in Marrakech, I ate there twice. Get the poule citron tajine with almonds. Eat it with bread and order some Jus d'Avocat (avocado juice with milk) to wash it down.

- The Fundacion Miro in Barcelona has an exceptional temporary expo on an artist I first discovered at the Musee d'Art Moderne de la ville de Paris, Douglas Gordon. He uses video a lot as a medium but also does some installation work. I especially liked the title of one of his works there which was called "What Have I Done" and was around 26 TVs playing all of his work. I liked the whole lack of a "?" wordplay.

- I actually stayed outside of Algeciras for the one night I was there in town of La Linea, which is minutes away along the coast and right next to Gibraltar. Steven and I got a hotel there at the AC La Linea for half price, aka 62 Euros. This was after 5 rooms in two hostels over 6 nights in booked-solid Barcelona and a night train down to the south of spain. There was TV. There was a shower. There was a free minibar. There was quite decent mexican food close by. I was happy.

I'll get some pictures posted when I get them.

Barcelona, Take 2

2006-04-14T14:17:00.000+02:00

I´m sitting in an Easy Internet Cafe right on La Ramblas right now, just finishing up my allotted half hour before I head off into the craziness that is Spain on Good Friday... everyone is on the streets right now and there´s a parade later.

I have a night train from Barcelona to Bobadilla in the south of Spain, then I´m taking a regional train and spending a night in Algeciras before taking the boat over to Morocco. All goes well, I´ll spend a few days in Rabat before heading down to Marrakech for my flight on the 21st.

Barcelona is crazy and quite amazing. There´s some well-done museums here, I checked out the Joan Miro Foundation and the National Museum of Catalonia yesterday, which of all things has a Toulouse-Lautrec Lithograph exhibit. I´ll write more on them and on Barcelona when I have a bit more free time, probably when I´m back in Paris... Now it´s off to get some tapas and some cold Spanish beer.

Barcelona, take 1

2006-04-11T23:29:00.000+02:00

So I'm here at the Habana Home hostel in Barcelona, typing away on one of their computers with free internet. Due to Semana Santa and poor planning, I'm basically here until Saturday, when I take a night train down to get close to Algeciras, and then hopefully a ferry monday morning to Tangier, Morocco so that I can train it on down to Rabat for a few days. First impressions on Barcelona are pretty positive. I've been here since Sunday night and I'm finally getting into the rhythm. The city is very well laid-out, lots of wide boulevards, very pretty architecture (and plenty of weird buildings designed by Gaudi), and plenty to do and see. Unfortunately, it's been pretty chilly here, ie: in the 50s, so I haven't been able to enjoy the beach life or anything like that.

Also because of Semana Santa, there's been a lot of jockeying around between hostels, which has been really tiring. Everything is pretty much booked solid so that we can't leave Barcelona to go to Lisbon or anything, and staying here is almost as difficult... I'll write more probably when I get down to Morocco and get back to the familiar internet cafe in Rabat, inshalla.

ps- I know this has been communicated to me before, but the sheer amount of awful hairstyles here is unbelievable. Mullets, bad dye-jobs, etc. Everywhere.

Bonjour America

2006-04-07T18:24:00.000+02:00

Just came across this very popular French blogger who's now trying to make a name for himself here with taped video messages to America. Here's the article where I heard about him on BBC, and here's his french blog. I haven't watched any of the videos yet, but it looks like they're searchable on his blog, and if not I'm sure a quick Google search would turn up something.

Article + more spring break

2006-04-07T17:45:00.000+02:00

I just got this article of AP. Thought it was pretty interesting since there have been so many disruptions around here lately. Students have been closing down railway stations and interfering with the RER for a while now. Oviously this isn't the way to react... I hope my TGV to Aix tomorrow isn't going to have any problems.

Also, I just picked up some tickets. Since the Spanish train online system is not responding to requests (which didn't surprise me whatsoever) I have a train to Aix, and on Sunday I'm heading to Barcelona, which I'll reach at night. I have a hostel there with Steven up through Wednesday, then we're going to try and get over to Lisbon before going down to Morocco.

Motorist Drives Through Crowd in Paris
Apr 07 11:07 AM US/Eastern

PARIS

A motorist drove through a crowd of students protesting the government's new youth jobs law Friday near the Sorbonne University, injuring seven people.

Furious demonstrators overturned the car and tried to kick its windows out, while police in riot gear and helmets worked to disperse the crowd.

The incident came after high school students spent the afternoon disrupting traffic outside the Sorbonne by picnicking on a busy boulevard. They were heading away when a frustrated motorist tried to burst through the crowd.

Several dozen youths turned the car over and unsuccessfully attempted to drag the driver out before police and onlookers intervened.

Firefighters said seven people suffered light injuries.

French students have been protesting for weeks over a new law that will make it easier for companies to hire and fire people under age 26. While most demonstrations have been peaceful, some have seen violence from a radical fringe.

Spring Break it

2006-04-07T12:14:00.000+02:00

I'm in the middle of packing for what will be a 2-week odyssey with Stephen through France, Spain, Portugal, and Morocco. Right now it looks like we'll be staying in Lyon, Aix, Barcelona, and Lisbon, before we hop a train to the south to take the ferry to Morocco. My end flight is the 21st out of Marrakech on Royal Air Maroc to Paris at 9:30am.

I'll have scattered internet access at cafes when I can get it, and more when I get down to Rabat.

I don't think this has all really sunk in. Truth be told, I'm a little apprehensive. Steven just got his Euro Rail pass, so we're going to make train reservations, then book a few hostels online, and hopefully depart later this afternoon. This whole backpacking/Euro Pass thing is not my cup of tea in general. It's definitely going to be a string of situations that might require some getting adjusting to, and all of the sticking to train times and making sure to get to Morocco will probably be stressful.

But, on the bright side, I'm fucking traveling around Europe (and Morocco). Now I'll just say that to myself another thirty times.

The quoteable strikes

2006-04-04T20:43:00.000+02:00

"... there is no doubt that the French are cutting their own throats by striking at every opportunity. Last year French railways lost 10 per cent of their freight traffic - more than any other country in Europe - through actions like this... France and Italy are in a headlong economic race to be the sick man of Europe."

- Chris Davies, leader of Britains Liberal MEPs

I'm going to try and find some of the slogans the students have been using, some of them have been really clever. I remember seeing this one at a metro station in Montparnasse - "CPE = Contrat Poubelle Embauche" (poubelle is trash can in French). The graphic had a trash can with the CPE stuffed in it. Trust me, there's about 40 million other acronyms they've come up with as well.

New-ish in Paris

2006-04-03T11:25:00.000+02:00

- I know I already noted the Los Angeles Exhibit at the Pompidou, but I'd like to reiterate how much I liked it. Provocative stuff, and a little taste of what the French really seem to idolize about California style (ie: American Apparel is without a doubt la mode here).

- I've heard that the new Juergen Teller exhibit at the Fondation Cartier is quite good, I just found this article on it from Paris Voice. At least go to see the building by Jean Nouvel.

- And even though I already mentioned the Los Angeles exhibit for a bit of escapism, there's also the Rousseau Exhibit at the Grand Palais, which I've also heard is "magnifique."

The Young and the Jobless

2006-04-03T08:25:00.000+02:00

This post title is the heading of this piece on Slate.com that asks for reader's reactions to the demonstrations in France against the CPE. I found this little bit interesting:
"It is time that the French government, and a few others in the EU, realised that the job of the government is to make unpleasent short term choices that will lead to long term improvements."

Week in Paris

2006-04-02T13:32:00.000+02:00

Just said my goodbyes to my relatives (mom, sis, aunt, cousin) who spent a fair chunk of time here in Paris. The first weekend, we went up to Bruges. Getting back Monday, we commenced with the whirlwind tour. For example, on Friday, we split up and half did the Centre Pompidou (the new Los Angeles Exhbit is so cool), while the other half went to check out the Bonnard exhibit (which I talked about earlier, and is amazing. It even just got a big writeup in the NY Times). Then we met up after some street food and went to the Petit Palais, where we did the tour and I showed my mom one of my favorite paintings - Portrait de Sarah Bernhardt by Georges Clairin. After that, we took the metro over to St. Germain des Pres to get a coffee at Cafe de Flore. Then we did some shopping and hopped on over to the Louvre because it's open late Wed and Friday. After our whirlwind trip around the Louvre, with me jabbing elbows to get through huge crowds of tourists, we had dinner at my place, where Jacques made Osso Bucco (am I spelling that right?). A few bottles of wine later, we all filed out and I fell into a deep sleep.

Some other highlights:
- My family loved the Orsay the most (big surprise), and really raved about it the most throughout the trip.
- Shopping in the Marais is always a kick for people. I took them to Muji, one of my favorite stores here in Paris, where they have really cool stationery and such. I also really like their clothes, which are utilitarian and urban but not too expensive.
- They also really dug the bag store Brontibay on Rue de Sevigne right off Rue Rivoli.

CPE, etc

2006-03-31T17:38:00.000+02:00

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

2006-03-28T23:12:00.000+02:00

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

2006-03-22T20:20:00.000+01:00

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 ©

2006-03-22T12:03:00.000+01:00

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

2006-03-22T11:36:00.000+01:00

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

2006-03-21T18:09:00.000+01:00

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

2006-03-21T17:42:00.000+01:00

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

2006-03-16T20:34:00.000+01:00

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

2006-03-16T20:15:00.000+01:00

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

2006-03-15T22:28:00.000+01:00

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

2006-03-14T19:31:00.000+01:00

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

2006-03-14T18:51:00.000+01:00

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

2006-03-14T15:09:00.000+01:00

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

2006-03-13T23:39:00.000+01:00

Mister Clean devient...

Mohammed VI

2006-03-12T18:15:00.000+01:00

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

2006-03-09T18:34:00.000+01:00

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

2006-03-07T22:25:00.000+01:00

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

2006-03-05T22:32:00.001+01:00

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

2006-03-02T21:14:00.000+01:00

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

2006-03-01T20:40:00.000+01:00

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

2006-03-01T11:35:00.000+01:00

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).

Bruges

2006-02-27T17:13:00.000+01:00

Bruges, or Brugge (if you err on the Dutch/Flamand language side of the Belgian language schism) is an amazingly gorgeous historical town about 3 hours by car from Paris (under 2 hours by train). I was lucky enough to stay there with some very good family friends who have a 4-story 15th-century house right in central Bruges. From there, I did lots of walking and bike trips around the town, dubbed the "Venice of the north" for all of its canals.

The city is home to great chocolate, and is also known for its lace (I stuck with chocolate). On the left is a picture of me, Duncan, and Marie at Dumon, a chocolate shop I visited more than once - I have a huge sack of chcolate from there sitting in my room, awaiting disbursement/ consumption. There's also amazing hot chocolate, chocolate fondue, or whatever else your heart desires around the city. The Belgians make most of their chocolate with filling, so it's normally different shapes and types of exterior chocolate filled up with everything from hazelnuts to tiramisu cream. I'd reccomend anything dark chocolate, and stick away from the fruity stuff unless you're into that. I was there for the chocolate.

As you can see by this picture of me (yes, those are sunglass clips) and Duncan on our bikes, Bruges is a great city to get around on bikes as well. There's a lot to see around the small city, and if you have a weekend, it's worth it to rent or steal one. The law in Bruges is that bikes have the right-of-way, so in theory there's care stopping left and right for you. Which is normally the case. Be careful.

I'll try and post more pictures as I get them from Aygline and as I have the time (have to catch up on schoolwork).

Here's some links re: Bruges and one last photo from at the house...

Wikipedia: Bruges (has some good scenery pics/information on Bruges)

Bruges Info

Hier Soir

2006-02-22T19:55:00.000+01:00

Yesterday evening was one of those nights (which are becoming more frequent) where I wipe all things homework out of my head and proceed to have a damn good time. For my art history class, we visited the Ecole des Beaux-Arts (art school) to check out the grounds and the current exhibition, a very cool collection of drawings and rare books all collected by a man named Jean Bonna. The drawings ran the gamut from Ingres and Van Dyck to Gauguin and Picasso. The drawings were interesting because they did a good job of showing the artistic process - these weren't huge paintings, but ideas and studies sketched out and occasionally colored (it reminded me of the Jacques-Louis David exhibit that just finished at the Jacquemart-Andre, because one can see a lot of his sketches and smaller "tester" paintings of huge pieces like The Oath of Horace). Also there is an exhibition of student art, which was either exceptional or incomprehensible for me. One of my favorite things was this tactile piece that was a video screen with a sleeping woman. When you touched the screen in a certain way, she'd move. Very realistic, it was almost like I had a real girlfriend.

After, I checked out La Doree, home of the best macaroons in Paris, sans blague. After, I kicked it high-class at Cafe de Flore, which does have amazing hot chocolate, and is right on the Boulevard St. Germain. I'm going to try and organize a breakfast trip there next week.

At 8, I checked out the opening of Videodanse 2006 at the Centre Pompidou, because my host dad had passed along to me an invite. Let's just say I'm not in the habit of leaving movies ( I don't think most of the 20+ people who left as well were either), but it was just really uninteresting and weird for the sake of being weird. Plus, the production values were nonexistent.

After, Tiffany and I took a walk down to the Marais to go to another cafe I've been spending a lot of time at - Cafe Hugo on the Place de Vosges. Despite its prime location, it's not overly touristy, and has damn good coffee, real mint tea, and a decent selection of grown-up drinks ( I had an "Ernesto," which was Jack Daniels, fresh mint, and citron presse), plus good food.

Suitable for framing

2006-02-22T17:19:00.000+01:00

Hilarious article by David Sedaris on his art background.
One of my favorite parts:

I was looking for framing ideas one afternoon when I wandered into a little art gallery called the Little Art Gallery. It was a relatively new place, located in the North Hills Mall and owned by a woman named Ruth, who was around my mom’s age, and introduced me to the word “fabulous,” as in: “If you’re interested, I’ve got a fabulous new Matisse that just came in yesterday.”

This was a poster rather than a painting, but still I regarded it the way I thought a connoisseur might, removing my glasses and sucking on the stem as I tilted my head. “I’m just not sure how it will fit in with the rest of my collection,” I said, meaning my Gustav Klimt calendar and the cover of the King Crimson LP tacked above my dresser.

While I was watching figure skating

2006-02-20T22:26:00.000+01:00

I found this. Check it out, it puts the Olympics to shame.

More than cartoons

2006-02-20T19:59:00.000+01:00

While I know this is a little off-topic from anything and everything Paris, I've had a few interesting conversations lately with some of my friends from Morocco about the cartoons in Jyllands-Posten. Of course, it's been on all of their minds, so the question I've been getting the most from them lately is what I think about the cartoons/how I feel about them. I thnk just having this dialogue has been incredibly useful, because let's face it, it's a dialogue that's hard to come by, to say the least.

One of my buddies, Naoufel, from the Association Nouvelle Rencontre in Akkari has been posting on his blog in english on this : http://spaces.msn.com/members/naoufallena. I've also been talking to Yassine and few other students and people I worked with last summer. One of the most common sentiments I'm getting is that there's a real mixture of anger and sadness. There's also a tangible powerlessness in what one can do for a reaction. Think about this, you're living in a third-world country trying to make a statement to western european country and the whole western world, what on earth do you do? Do you do nothing and pretend that literally the most important person in your religion, your culture, the very basis for how to lead a perfect life, is not worthy of some sort of reaction?

These reactions, from renaming danish pastries ala "freedom fries" back in some of the more ignorant days of American foreign relations (*cough* ongoing, I mean), to boycotting danish goods and protests and even to riots, have run the gamut. While I stated to my friends in Morocco that violent reactions (often organized and aggravated by a select few) do as much of a disservice, if not more to Islam, I also understand why people are upset. I feel there's a huge disconnect in this regard, because Americans look at this situation and we think instantly of our rights to free speech, and how incredibly sacred that is to our way of life. We're throwing this concept, this western idea that is not universal in this world (not to say I oppose freedom of speech) onto a lot of people that feel incredibly disrespected, and view it as just one part of how westerners view and constantly disrespect Islam.

While I was in Morocco, I had the occasion to meet an Al-Jazeera reporter who was literally asked to leave the country the day after I met him for reporting on the Western Sahara indigenous movement for independence from Morocco. Of course, I was shocked, even though I thought the reporter was a raging anti-semite and I couldn't have a decent conversation with him. Anyways, his dismissal was a function of a system that us Americans are quick to condemn. What we don't realize at the same time is that if there was freedom of press and free elections in Morocco, we'd have a majority Islamist party in power, not a strong western ally as we have in King Mohammed VI. Of course, nobody ever talks about Morocco when we talk about democracy (or the UAE, or Saudi Arabia, I could go on forever). When Bush says "freedom" he has a slightly selective view. What I mean by all of this is that there are elements in the Middle East right now that are very undemocratic and serve our interests, so we don't get upset about them. However, when Muslims react to these cartoons, we get all upset about protecting western values.

Obviously, I'm not Tom Friedman and I don't have a quick and easy solution. If I did, I'm sure I'd be tapping it out on my keyboard right now. I think it's just important in something like this cartoon issue to really try, harder than ever, to see every facet possible. This is not a simple question of liberty of the press. Nothing involving religion and international affairs is ever simple. All I want to do is keep on asking questions and keep on having dialogue. I'll try and post some more some other time after I talk with my friends more.

Le Rock Concert

2006-02-20T13:23:00.000+01:00

Last night, I eschewed a traditonal laid-back Sunday to go see three bands play over on Rue Batignole, on the southeast tip of Pere Lachaise cemetary. The reason I went is because my host brother here is a musician and was playing in two of the bands. After taking the 3 line over to Gambetta, we walked in the rain down the length of Pere Lachaise (home of Jim Morrison's grave) to the venue, which was an incredibly cool space, full of french hipsters and the local music scene (looked like a gigantic American Apparel photo shoot). Luckily, the concert was free, so that meant a few more Euros on beer. We showed up just in time to see the end of the first group, with my host brother, Clemens, on the drums (la batterie), just hammering away as the lead singer growled loudly through the last song.

The second group on was actually just two guys, one of Clement's friends on drum and this guy who looked straight out of the movie office space (seriously, he was around 40 years old with a short-sleeved shirt and tie, awful hair and Steven Soderbergh-esque glasses) behind a lot of electronic music gear, including a few keyboards and synthesizers. This group rocked out as well with some semi-experimental electronic music punctuated by some vocals. It avoided the pratfalls of some other electronic "music" though by managing a semblance of a beat every now and then. Was definitely shaking my head along with it.

The third group was another one with Clemens, this time he was onstage with his guitar with a pretty decent-sized band. They also rocked out, forming some pretty interesting and occasionally too loud compositions. There wasn't a lot of vocals, which I would've liked to hear. After that, we made it back just in time for the last metro.

I'm definitely coming back to the venue though, I know Calexico will be playing in April, and I'd love to check out. It's always nice to find a venue with nary a loud american in sight.

For reference, the club, which is called La Fleche d'Or, is on 102 Rue Batignole, just east of the intersection with Rue Pyrenee on the southeast tip, easily accessible from the two (if you're brave) or the three. You can easily see it from the intersection. It seems like they have a pretty solid schedule of local french and bigger acts all the time. The scene was great, lots of civil-war era beards, levis, converses and general hipsterness.

L'Institut du Monde Arabe / the Paris Mosque

2006-02-20T13:13:00.000+01:00

Yesterday, I took another break from Euro-centric art to go and check out an exhibit at the Arab Institute. Right now, the Jean-Nouvel (who also did the Fondation Cartier and is working on the under-construction Musee de Quai Branly I mentioned before) designed building is hosting an exposition on the Golden Age of Arab Sciences. The actual expo was very interesting, lots of texts on mathematics, astronomy, chemistry, and architecture. There were a few videos and scientific instruments, including some astrolabes and astronomical "globes" which mapped out the constellations. Definitely made me wish I could read Arabic. There's also a pretty comprehensive bookstore and a building next to the Institute that has a "Medina" replete with ridiculously overpriced goods from Morocco to Tunisia, Syria, and Lebanon.

There were two big downsides that ended up working together to make the whole experience not so great. Firstly, it was a sunday, so "le monde" (everyone) was there, and the Institute is a really skinny building, so the small ticket-selling room was overwhelmed with people, as was the claustrophobic exhibition space. I'd reccomend checking out the institute and their bookstore, but go during the week.

After that, I walked past the Jardin des Plantes through the Roman part of the city to the Paris Mosque, which has been around since the 1920s. While I couldn't go inside the mosque, there's a cool cafe on one corner with pastries, mint tea, hooka (shisha/nargila), and some real food such as couscous. It's a cool atmosphere and feels very neighborhoody, with a lot of french families and couples hanging out.

A little bit of meteorology

2006-02-20T08:03:00.000+01:00

And the forecast for Paris is OVERCAST with highs in the low 30s F all week. I'll update on the rest of my weekend adventures once I get through this day of classes.

Strictement Interdit

2006-02-19T12:35:00.000+01:00

"Interdit," which means forbidden, is a common sight on signage around the city. It's interdit to smoke in metro stations, or interdit to leave behind your dog's business on the street. Interestingly enough, the Parisians keep on doing it. So, I talked to my professor, and he explained to me that there are two levels of interdit in Paris, there's plain-old "interdit," and there's "strictement interdit" which you really don't do. For example, at the Musee Camondo yesterday, it was strictement interdit to use their antique elevator, as indicated on a placard. It's similarly strictement interdit to open the maintenance door in a metro station, or to go down a one-way street (but even that is fair game for the motoscooters). Interdit, on the other hand, is more like someone waving their finger at you, telling you that you probably shouldn't do that, which as we all know by the mountains of dog crap on the streets and the cigarette butts littering the metro stations, just isn't that effective.

Escalators

2006-02-19T12:27:00.000+01:00

Or moreover, the lack of functional escalators in Paris. On any given day, 1/3 escalators in Paris are broken. It's funny, because it's Paris, not the third world, and you don't expect such a rampant breakdown in public services, but it just keeps on happening. The louvre, metro stations, or even the musee d'orsay are all prone to these escalator outages. My theory is that there must be a really powerful escalator repairman's union in Paris. Because I don't see how the escalator at the place de clichy metro can be closed so often. Aren't these guys supposed to be "fixing" these escalators? Maybe it's something I don't know about the delicate mechanics of escalators and the Parisian dirt. Anyways, I hate to say this (so much), but this doesn't happen in America. There, I said it. And I'm not taking it back. That goes for the moveable walkways too, which are ALWAYS out of service, especially in Gare Montparnasse. Parisians - get your mechanics unions in line here.

Musee Camondo and Musee Dapper

2006-02-18T16:29:00.000+01:00

While Paris keeps up its interminable gray weather and frequent rain, I decided to venture out today and catch up on a few museums since I didn't get around to doing anything last weekend with "le gastro." One of the best parts about my host dad is that since he's an art historian, he knows his museums down pat. For today, he told me to check out the Musee Nissim Camondo and the Musee Dapper.

From the Place de Clichy, where I live, I made my way down the rue Batignoles to the Musee Nissim Camondo. The museum is similar to the Musee Jacquemart Andre in that it was a private house and collection bequeathed to the Institiut de France. The Camondos rose to prominence as a wealthy Jewish banking family in Constantinople, before moving to France in the 19th century. Here, in Paris, they quickly integrated into high society and constructed a remarkably modern (for the late 19th century) mansion looking out over the Parc Monceau. The family was incredibly active in collecting 18th century furniture and decorative arts, in addition to plenty of paintings, including a great portrait of one of the older Camondos by Pierre Bonnard (of whom a brand new exhibition just opened up here). So, their three-story mansion, replete with private quarters, receiving and dining rooms, a library, sitting rooms, plus the incredibly cool industrial-capacity kitchen (for dinner parties with more than 50 different plates) and servant's quarters, is full of beautiful things.

One of the most interesting and saddening parts of the museum is its history. The museum is named after Nissim Camondo, the last male heir of the Camondos, who died as a fighter pilot during World War One. After his death, his father retreated inwards, throwing occasional dinner parties, but preferring solitude. Nissim's sister was the only surviving Camondo, who married and had two young children. When the Nazis invaded Paris in 1939, she stayed put with her family, thinking her family's considerable aid to the French state would keep her safe. Unfortunately, her, along with her husband and two young children were taken to Auschwitz, where they all passed away in 1943. Her father, who had passed away in 1935, had already left his mansion, with its considerable amount of french cultural treasures, to the Institut de France.

After the Camondo, I walked down the Boulevard Haussman to the Arc de Triomphe, from there, I took the Avenue Victor Hugo down to the modern-looking Musee Dapper, which specializes in African and African diaspora art. The exhibit right now is on the African heritage of Brazilian art (here's the exhibit site, sorry, french only). The exhibit includes lots of Congolese art and religious and some contemporary art from Brazil. There was everything from rather creepy-looking Congolese idols to slave cuffs to some modern paintings. My favorites were small Brazilian christian shrines, small open chests with various religious objects inside. The museum also has a great vibe in general, and you can go through it in under an hour. Plus, it's one of the few non-European art museums. There's also a very nice-looking cafe, which was inexplicably closed and an African art book centered gift shop.

After all of that walking and standing, I figured it was time for a snack. So, I headed back to Place de Clichy on the metro and picked up some special ham and goat cheese from Monoprix, plus a baguette. I walked back into the apartment with my bag of food, and my host dad looked at me like I had just brought back a roasted ham or turkey. He looked concerned, "you didn't eat lunch, Isaac?"

I explained to him that I was just having a snack because I'd been walking around. I don't really think he understood. (The french really don't snack much between meals.)

This sums up what I don't want to be here

2006-02-17T23:43:00.000+01:00

This is an article from the Onion, a parody newspaper.

Experiences

2006-02-17T16:29:00.000+01:00

I found this article on experiences linked from one of my favorite blogs, kottke.org.

The article talks a lot about how we're moving more towards experience-based fulfillment than fulfillment through luxury goods. For instance, someone who might have once bought a porsche might now decide to go and hike the Inca trail or explore Thailand. What I liked most was the ending bit:

There’s this emerging idea of ourselves as projects — we are no longer labelled by our education or gender, or born into a social situation that we then play out for the rest of our lives. We can do new things, pick up new skills, learn a new language. Because we’re living longer, we have more time to think about who we really want to be. We are all asking ourselves, ‘How can I get more out of my life?’”

While it might seem slightly hokey, I like the idea. I've always been gung-ho about orienting myself around experiences, from the little coffee shop visits they mention to hopefully more traveling. Having been to a prep school where I saw plenty of rich older people with lots of stuff who weren't especially happy, it gives me a certain satisfaction to see a reorientation around things that I consider much more tangible. Plus, what's cooler than having project: you?

Paris et ses musees

2006-02-16T18:49:00.000+01:00

While it continues to be dreary here, with plenty of rain and general gray, I've been having a great time with one of my most interesting classes here, an Art History class based 90% in museums around Paris. The class is basically a chronological look at french art from the origins of the Academy up through modern art. So far, we've been to the Louvre five times, the Musee Jacquemart-Andre, and we just did a class at the Orsay today on Courbet (including a stop at this, this, and a very graphic piece here) early Monet (this piece), and Manet (including Olympia, and one of my favorites, le Balcon with a youngish Berthe Morisot in the painting).

Back in DC, I whenever I get the chance, I try to make a trip to the Phillip's Collection, the National Gallery, or any of the other great museums in DC. I've done the Audio Guide thing and even read that book you find in lots of museum gift shops called The Annotated Mona Lisa (actually worth a read). Here, I've really had the opportunity to throw myself more into art, and it's been worth it. Art's one of those things you can see and appreciate, but the more you put into it, the more you get. Every piece has its nuances and history, and it makes the whole experience a lot more enjoyable if you get the background. So, while I know everyone can't take an art class before they head to Paris, read up a bit at least. Coming here excited to see pieces, even if they are some god-awful Renoir paintings, makes the experience a lot more rewarding.

Eurotrip?

2006-02-15T16:37:00.000+01:00

One of the big questions one faces while studying abroad is how much to travel. Especially in a location like Europe, where there's so many amazing cities and historical sites, it can prove to be a difficult response. My mentality so far is that I have two long, two-week breaks where I'm going to revisit Morocco, go to Spain and Portugal, and possibly go to Poland or Tunisia. The weekends in between, however, are pretty much set aside for France. While I have some friends who've already been to Munich, Amsterdam, Switzerland, or even the Olympics in Turin, I've been holding back. I feel like this opportunity to live in Paris is too unique to spend the majority of it outside of the country. On the weekends, when I finally have a break from all five of my courses, I can do museums, longer walks, take day trips out to places like Chartres, Vaux-le-Vicomte, Chantilly, Versailles, or any number of places that dot the landscape around Paris. Plus, I get a better taste of the Paris nightlife - I'm more apt to go out to Oberkampf and check out the bar scene on a saturday than a wednesday, or to go out to a concert such as the one my host brother is playing in this Sunday night.

Europe is one of these amazing places that's going to be here when I'm 30, 40, and 50. And hopefully, I'll be making many return trips if I have any say in the matter (and finances permitting, of course). Next weekend, I will be heading up to Bruges, in Belgium with some French family friends, and I'm definitely looking forward to it. I just know that while I'm here, I should be as close to "here" as possible.

Of course, if anyone has any suggestions or thinks I'm completely crazy to squander my time in France without doing a gigantic Eurotrip, feel free to let me know - I changed the comments so that now anyone can post, not just those with a blogger ID. Keep in mind I've done the England, Italy, and Czech Republic thing. Also, I'm always down for reccomendations on where to go to over break, etc, as long as it's on a somewhat reasonably budget (ie: hostels, cheap flights, etc). Of course, I, like anybody, might have the tendency to splurge every now and then if something's really worth it.

I <3 Smecta

2006-02-12T11:44:00.000+01:00

Smecta, for those of you that are curious, is an algae-based "oral suspension agent" that I've been mixing with water these last few days to fight off a pretty debilitating and nasty stomach virus. (That's part of the reason I haven't been posting much lately.) Let's just say there's a certain Indian restaurant right off St. Michel that I'm not going back to anytime soon. It turns out this virus has been going around Paris, my host brother had it last week, and all of the people in attendance at our dinner party last night (where I ate small spoonfuls of couscous) knew people who had it as well. Unfortunately, it hasn't exactly instilled in me a spirit of camraderie over our shared suffering, rather just me being upset at spending a beautiful weekend far away from the rather elusive Parisian sun.

On a more fun note, I did have dinner last night with the man who invented the water bed. (I don't make this stuff up.) Very interesting British guy who's clearly been places. He lives in Paris now and is with one of my host dad's colleagues at the Centre Pompidou. Anyways, we had some interesting discussions about Uganda (which our local AIESEC DC chapter has been active in) and some of his more random travels.

A lunch break

2006-02-07T18:54:00.000+01:00

Yesterday, after eating a quick lunch at a student cafeteria, I looked at my watch and realized I had 2.5 hours to burn before my France and Francophone Africa class at IES. I ended up hopping on the RER train up to Chatelet, then I took the line 1 metro over to the Louvre to check out their collection of Islamic art. Right now, the Louvre has on loan the collection from the Metropolitan Museum of Art in NYC.

Since paintings and representations of people/animals are not common in Islamic Art, the majority of the works were decorative plates, stone/ivory work, carpets, and clothing. The calligraphy was absolutely amazing as well on everything. My previous exposure to Islamic Art is pretty much limited to what I saw in Morocco, such as the tomb of Moulay Ismail in Meknes (one of the iconic images of Moroccan architecture is its doorway, even used in Marvine Howe's recent book, titled Morocco), or the decorative arts on mosques such as the Hassan II Mosque in Casablanca (never has a monument to someone so awful been so beautiful).

One of the most interesting parts was the exhibition of several painted portraits of Persian leaders, all dressed up in 19th-century western military clothing. As I mentioned before, earlier Islamic art did not include many representations of people - it was seen as idolatry, and most animals and humans would be depicted in a slightly round or odd style as to not imitate God's creation. Obviously, over time, something changed. I know very few Muslims, outside of orthodox ones, who are against pictures of themselves these days.

SIDA and Baskets

2006-02-05T22:25:00.000+01:00

Last weekend, I bought a pair of shoes that needed a waterproofing spray, so my first stop was naturally Monoprix, vendor of all things French and useful. Since Jacques, my host father, was headed up to Monoprix for some grocery shopping, I decided to tag along. When we got there, he directed my towards the lower level with all of the clothing and home supplies, and I went down there, searching through all the aisles for my shoe spray. After about ten minutes of fruitless searching, I found a woman doing some stocking, and I asked her (english version), "I have new leather shoes that I need protection for against water, do you know where I can find a spray?"

She looks at me quizzically, and says "for condoms to protect against AIDS (le SIDA in french), you have to go upstairs."

Flustered, I look around and then lift one of my feet up and point at it. "Shoes. I need protection for my shoes."

She looks at me. "Sir, as I said, condoms are upstairs."

After that, I gave up. I went up and told Jacques, who continued to laugh for a few minutes. He explained to me there were a few new employees from North Africa who didn't speak perfect french, and it was just an issue with comprehension.

The other incident occured on my next visit to Monoprix two days later. That night, I was cooking for myself, so I picked up a bottle of Badoit, my favorite sparkling water, some pork pate, bread, and some potatoes and sausage. Being constantly on guard since I always happen to not do things in the french way, I searched in my checkout line for a place to put down my shopping basket. Finding no baskets around me, I put my food down on the counter and stood there, basket in hand. The clerk looked up at me and started laughing. Loudly. She pointed at my basket, and asked me, "do you want to buy that too?!" Of course, it didn't stop there. She continued, "how much are you willing to pay?"

She then told me to just leave the basket before the checkout counter on the floor. Once she stopped laughing (admittedly, it was more good-natured than mean-spirited), I was able to pay for my food and get out of there.

I told Jacques about the basket incident, and he told me that you just set the basket down before the checkout counter. Now I know.

Monoprix and Picard

2006-02-05T18:58:00.000+01:00

Over the past week or so, I've been slowly discovering the other side of Parisian gastronomy, far away from the pricey brasseries and restaurants dotting every street in Paris. These are the food shops, everything from Ed and Franprix on the lower end, to Monoprix, Picard, and Le Bon Marche at the top. Most of my shopping has taken place at Monoprix, which is ubiquitous in Paris, in addition to stops at Picard and Franprix.

Chris Rock has this bit where he talks about the joys of white supermarkets, and how heaven is the frozen foods section in a white supermarket. Chris Rock was wrong, heaven is Monoprix. Specifically the cheese and sausage/pate sections. Thanks to Monoprix, which also sells everything one would expect at a Target back in the states, I've gotten back into french food, after a few harrowing tourist trap restaurant experiences.

For example, yesterday, I met up with my friend Kitty down by St. Michel, and we went to the Museum of the Middle Ages (lots of Christ. Lots and lots of dead Christ.). After, we wandered around, got some ridiculously cheap chinese food for lunch, and then saw the movie "The King" with Gael Garcia Bernal (great movie, but not for the faint of heart... very disturbing). After that, plus a stop at "le smoothie shop," we decided to head back uptown towards my area and make dinner ourselves. After an obligatory stop at Indiana for their happy hour specials (3.40 Euro for a pint of Stella Artois!), we finally made it, bladders full, to our first stop, Picard.

Picard is the newest thing in french food stores, it only sells frozen food. Lame, you say? On the other hand, Picard, with its rows of freezers, actually sells amazing food, everything from amazing Salmon to desserts, produce, and even bread. Kitty and I picked up a thing of truffle mashed potatoes and then headed on over to Monoprix. There, we got a loaf of fresh bread, a block of goat cheese, 2 "bifsteaks," a 2.50E bottle of wine, and some Chocolate Mousse, all for 11E.

Suffice to say, it all made for a killer dinner. Luckily, I had some leftover pork pate, so we tore up the bread and I went through all of my pork pate (a little too fast...) and the chevre. After, we cooked the steaks and tossed the mashed potatoes in the microwave. Fortunately for me, she didn't like the wine, so there was more than enough (once again, I have to learn moderation here) for me. The dessert was ridiculous. Although it was just little chocolate mousses in plastic cups, they were unbelievable. Afterwards, totally full, and with Euros left to spare, I hit the sack early, a belly full of wine and steak.

Another time, I'll tell some of my stories from my first trips into Monoprix, where I definitely made myself stand out more than once.

Photos

2006-02-02T22:10:00.000+01:00

Or moreover, the lack of photos. Honestly, I haven't taken my (mother's) Konica out for a spin here yet (all of the photos posted so far are from Meredith). I was kind of galvanized tonight (ps, yes, by tonight I mean me eating foie gras and goat cheese while drinking wine and reading frantz fanon. I can't stop myself.) by this article on photography. While I'm probably the last American college student who doesn't own a digital camera for crazy party/ keg stand pictures, this gave me a bit of a kick in the rear to get out there and start taking some good ol' fashioned photos of Paris without the aid of a LCD screen.

La Medina

2006-02-02T18:46:00.000+01:00

After three lunches in a row at the admittedly decent student cafeterias this week, I took today off and went to a Moroccan place called "La Medina" right on the Rue Daguerre by the IES Center. I had a craving for moroccan mint tea (gunpowder green tea - I'd always buy "saddam hussein brand" in morocco - plus fresh mint and LOTS of sugar) and tajine. I walked in the door to see a huge collection of pastries, plus plenty of couscous and kebabs laid out behind the glass. At first I just intended to stop in to grab something "a emporter" (to-go), but, after hearing an arabic song I recognized, I figured it was worth it to sit down and have the full experience.

I flipped right away to the tajine page, and found my favorite type - the tajine citron with chicken and olives. The waitress came around, and I introduced myself, and we talked for a bit, it turned out she was from Rabat (where I worked this summer), so we bonded a bit. Luckily, 80% of my meager moroccan arabic is food-centered (since when I was over at people's houses, I needed to know how to go through a meal and be appreciative of the food), so I think I might have been able to finangle a double helping of chicken, and I definitely got extra bread. Anyways, the food was great, I ate it with bread, no fork/knife, moroccan-style, much to the delight of the waitress and to the chagrin of my napkin (tajines can be really oily).

On the way out, I remembered to say "schpeti" which basically means "happily full" and earn a sweet and sticky pastry. I know where I'll be going back next week with friends.

Additionally, I know for me sometimes it's difficult to feel that one can really tangibly hold onto experiences. As recent as Morocco was, it's also very far away from DC, and a little less so from France. Just being able to reconnect with my summer a bit was a great experience. I'm really looking forward to going back over spring break.

3 Months after the riots

2006-02-02T18:37:00.000+01:00

I found this interesting article on BBC News today: article.

It seems that in at least one of my classes everyday, be it my France and Francophone Africa class, or my Business French class today, the riots are mentioned. The typical reaction one gets from a french person is that they "weren't that bad." In fact, upon mentioning the riots to several french people, they all brought up the same thing - that CNN, during its coverage of the riots, mislabeled french cities, as if to indicate how little Americans know about France (which may sometimes be true). Most people will swear they didn't see anything, any type of violence.

The end of the article mentions the police-relations issues in France, and that's something that's commonly talked about in class as well. In french, there are basically two ways to address people directly, the "tu" or "vous" forms. Tu is informal, used around friends and peers. Vous, on the other hand, is how one addresses parents, superiors, and people in any type of formal setting. For example, if one is talked to by a police officer, you sure as hell use "vous." And, reciprocally, the police officer uses it with you, this is not a casual conversation. The issue has also been that police (without being too general) will use the vous form with whites, and the tu form with arabs and blacks - a large mark of disrespect. As is often the case, the police point fingers back at the minorities, claiming that originated from a lack of respect shown to police officers. Whatever the case is, it's easy to see here in everyday conversations that France, Europe, and the World still have a long way to go in race relations.

Guy Guns

2006-01-30T17:24:00.000+01:00

Yesterday, I made a return trip to the Montparnasse Cemetary because that's how I roll. I was searching for Alfred Dreyfus's grave a second time when I was approached by a kindly old french man wearing a nicely knotted scarf. We talked a bit, and he showed me the way to Dreyfus's grave since he was on his morning walk. He told me about how he was from Brittany, and he had a name that was very odd by french standards. After a bit of searching through his pockets, he pulled out his ID Card. On the card, it said "Mr. Guy Guns." I kid you not.

Musee de Quai de Branly

2006-01-29T23:06:00.000+01:00

I figured I'd link to this article on Gridskipper, one of my favorite blogs. It's all about the new museum opening in Paris in June focusing on non-European art. The article also has links to the museum's official site. Additionally, the same architect who designed the incredibly cool Fondation Cartier building, Jean Nouvel, is doing this one.

Lifelike sculptures and random walks

2006-01-29T21:08:00.000+01:00

Most days here, I try to start with a maximum of one specific thing I'm going to do. Be it an exhibit I want to see, or a restaurant I've been wanting to go to for a while, I've found it makes the day a lot less complicated. As soon as you start building up these lists, and saying "I'll see this museum, then this museum, then walk here and see this monument, then go here for dinner" you kind of cut the whole exploration out of the whole deal, and that's half the fun when you're going around a new city.

Today, it was the Fondation Cartier, a contemporary art museum that has an exhbition of one my favorite sculptors, the hyper-realist Ron Mueck, who started his career in film and then moved to designing incredibily detailed, convincing, and sometimes painful or awkward sculptures. Here are a few examples of his work (caveat - some of his work is nude): Big Man (which I saw at the La Melancolie exhibit), Boy (I also love this closeup of the detail on his feet), and the top section of a woman I saw today who was over 10 feet tall and covered by a large duvet.

After that, it was walking/coffee time . While it's still cold here, at least the sun was out and there was plenty to see. I stopped in to check out the mass at Notre Dame Cathedral, which is quite the experience. Hearing the hymns being sung in latin was actually quite powerful, almost considered converting to Catholicism for .01 seconds.

The tricky part here is avoiding the tourist traps for dinner. Since virtually all of central Paris is also tourist-ville, there's more than enough brasseries full of American and Japanese tourists paying way too much for a sub-par dinner. Searching off the beaten path can be tough too, and yield some restaurants that look less than clean and sparkling.

Les Amants Reguliers

2006-01-28T23:13:00.000+01:00

Today, I walked around the Latin Quarter/St. Germain area. I made a stop at the Latin American Institute to take a step away from all the Euro-centric art I've been exposed to lately. There was a small (and free!) exhibit on Brazilian art, which was refreshing, because I'd been getting so used to the more drab older European schools of art. After, Jessie and I did the obligatory sitting in a cafe drinking a cappuccino deal before sitting down for the movie Les Amants Reguliers. This movie is an experience. Clocking in at a solid three hours, we watched more than one audience member leave. While the Times review I linked to is pretty positive, it was basically three hours of intense staring and smoking with almost no dialogue. The main character (played by Louis Garrel, best known in the states for his work in the Bertolucci movie "The Dreamers") would just furiously write down poetry that we, as the audience, were not privileged to see, followed by some longing and depressed looks into his girlfriend's eyes, then more mad scribbling of prose. Anyways, then it was off to a bar for a Stella and an early turn in.

The moral of the story: don't see Les Amants Reguliers. Trust me.

The Cold Snap

2006-01-28T09:33:00.000+01:00

Over the last few days, Paris has been in the middle of a cold snap, and it's been blamed on the Russians. Despite the unfortunate Russian winter, I made the most out of yesterday and headed down to the Marais to grab lunch at Ma Bourgogne, a restaurant on the Place de Vosges. There, I ate some hearty fare, including beef sausage and potato salad to insulate me from the cold. Then, Tiffany and I rolled around the Marais for a while.

Our first stop was the Musee Carnavalet, which is a museum on the history of Paris, displaying old knick-knacks, signage, furniture, and art. In addition, there's some cool models of Paris showing the old Ile-de-la-Cite with row houses all along the bridges and old narrow and winding streets. Besides its normal exhibition, the museum had two completely random temporary exhibitions, one was a black and white photographic exhibit of classic Parisian circuses, and the other was a collection of gaudy american jewelry (we're talking diamond encrusted turtle shells here).

Besides the Musee Carnavalet, I picked up a pair of shoes at the Camper Store, some chocolate at Jeff de Bruges, and finally saw the inside of a real American Apparel store. Also, I got to satisfy my craving for The a la Menthe, which I've missed ever since this summer.

In the evening, I had dinner at La Mere Catherine, an admittedly touristy, but good, place right on the Place de Tertre in Montmartre. I continued my adventures in foie gras (yes, I will repeat it again, I am a bad person. Sorry Rachel) with Tagliatelle Foie Gras, a pasta with cream sauce and foie gras, basically the richest thing one can eat ( I think it was actually a little much for my stomach). After that, I went through part of the box of Jeff de Bruges and returned home for a much-needed night of sleep.

When I got back, I was informed in traditional Parisian fashion that no french people shop at Jeff de Bruges, and that it's no good by my host family. So, one step towards Parisian, one step back, it always works that way.

A french dinner party

2006-01-27T09:38:00.000+01:00

One of the big parts of the homestay agreement is that every student is entitled to two dinners a week with the family. With Jacques, my dinners have often been my taking part in dinner parties he throws.

For example, last night, Jacques informed me that dinner would be at 9pm with some other friends from the apartment building. I showed up downstairs at 8:45 to meet his friends, and he poured me some of his family's special recipe punch (read: rum with a taste of bitters). I took care sipping the punch in front of the fire he made, because I didn't want to be that American guy who drinks way too much. I soon looked over to find the two sixty-something women sitting next with empty glasses, asking Jacques for a refill, which he happily obliged. After my second glass of punch, and plenty of conversation (mostly punch-related, two of the people there had connections to the Antilles). I uncorked two bottles of red wine for our party of five, and then sat down to some amazing soup that was made using ox tail (more on that later...). After that, Jacques went in to the kitchen and brought out an "aperitif," a plate of what appeared to be large cow bones. I found out, yes, they were large bones. I was supposed to eat the marrow, something I'd heard about doing in France, but had yet to try, thankfully.

The way one eats marrow, at least according to one of my new french friends at the table, is you scoop it ouf of the bone, spread it on some bread, and then sprinkle a bit of salt over it, and voila. All eyes were on me as I stuck my knife into the center of the open bone and took out some marrow. I spread it gingerly on my bread and then put on a lot of salt. For those that haven't eaten marrow before, I won't ruin the surprise. Suffice to say, it's a unique experience. Kind of creamy, but not in a delicious, buttery, foie gras kind of way.

After the marrow, out came the beef, potatoes, peppers, carrots, and several other vegetables, plus plenty of different kinds of mustard and pickles. In addition, off to the side was a metal pot containing another surprise for me. After going through as much beef and potatoes as I could stomach, I found out what the other metal pot contained. Jacques had luckily saved the ox tail he had used to make the soup. These were pieces of tail, cut up in sections. Each piece is circular, with a bone in the middle, a bit of meat, and then the intact skin of the cow around the outside. Did I eat it? Hell yes I did. Ox tail is chewy. I think that's honestly the best word to describe it. After cutting off a piece, and then removing the thick skin, it took me a good amount of time to chew one piece. The taste is basically beef, but not nearly as flavorful as a filet mignon.

After that, there was cheese. Lots of cheese. Two different types of goat cheese, plus plenty of other varieties. This whole time, I was in a race to keep up with wine consumption. After the two glasses of punch, I had four glasses of red wine and two glasses of white. It shouldn't come as a shock to anybody that I am currently nursing off a slight hangover.

Musee d'Orsay/Bandidas

2006-01-26T17:17:00.000+01:00

Today was my last day of intensive french at the Institut Catholique, so I celebrated by eating at a student cafeteria (...) and then went to the Musee d'Orsay, one of my most favorite and accessible museums in Paris. The collection is amazing, and runs the gamut from Monet to Seurat to Rodin to Gauguin to Van Gogh to Manet, to name just a few. Despite the random German schoolchildren that seemed to keep on stepping on my heels no matter where I went, it was some of the most reflective time I've been able to have here.

Anyways, given that. I'm off to see the movie "Bandidas" right now starring Salma Hayek and Penelope Cruz. Yes, I know it will be bad. Honestly though, after all of these cultural experiences, I need a break to just laugh.

Tomorrow night, I'm off to one of my favorite restaurants in Paris, the admittedly touristy La Mere Catherine, in Montmartre on the Place de Tertre (where all the french artists paint caricatures). However, the place was founded in 1793, and has undeniable charm, and a french lady singing, accompanied by a piano.

Gratuitous Eiffel Tower Pic #1

2006-01-26T17:09:00.000+01:00

This was taken by new GWU friend Crystal from the river boat. Gets me every time.

I just ate foie gras...

2006-01-25T23:23:00.000+01:00

for the very first time. And I really liked it. Is that awful? Seriously, it's like butter. Anyways, it was part of a plated dinner we had on a boat on the Seine, sponsored by my study abroad program (a meal which also included veal. I am an awful human being now.). Hopefully I'll be able to get some new pictures up from the surprisingly decent restaurant/boat.

France Inter

2006-01-25T13:20:00.000+01:00

A few says ago, I was sitting down for breakfast (aka: tea and bread... every morning) when I heard Antony and the Johnsons on the radio. The singer, Antony, is androgynous, with a Nina Simone-esque voice. My surprise was more because this was one of the big French radio stations, not some local college radio in the US. After Antony and the Johnsons, Clap Your Hands and Say Yeah came on. Within that space of time, I got hooked on France Inter, basically what American radio should be (in my world). Two nights ago, as Jacques (my host dad) and I were chowing down on his couscous and lamb, France Inter had a live set from Cat Power. This morning, as I woke up and got the tea started downstairs, the Flaming Lips came on. So, despite all my distaste with Johnny Hallyday and the french people's obsession with Black Eyed Peas, it seems like there might be something here for me as well.

Les Soldes

2006-01-24T22:55:00.000+01:00

The sales all over Paris are in full swing, having started the 10th of January, and running up to the 10th of February. Today, I finally caved in and checked out the Paul Smith and Etro stores. I tried to fit my normally-sized American feet into the skinny Paul Smith shoes, but no luck. Next stop was the only Etro store in France, located on the Blvd St. Germain. Finally picked up a very blue scarf and officially initiated myself into the cult of les Soldes.

The deal is, sales in Paris are strictly regulated. Sales occur twice a year, around July, and in January after the holiday season. Both times allow stores to liquidate old stock for new collections. Other than that, it's "strictement interdit" to have a sale unless you are literally going out of business, creditors repossessing your store, etc. So, basically, it's a big deal when they're around. As I found out at Paul Smith today, the early bird gets the worm. Although prices continue to fall every week, a lot of the choice items get snatched up right away, like pointy black laceups in a European size 45 for example. So, if anybody happens to be around Paris during a Solde, don't wait. Make up a list of higher-tiered stores and more accessible stuff and get moving, trust me. Plus, with the more expensive stuff, the prices drop by comparatively more $$. For example, one can find 400 Euro shoes for 200, etc.

Le temps passe

2006-01-24T22:40:00.000+01:00

Yesterday, I stopped by the Cafe de Flore, where I spent 7 euros on some of the best hot chocolate I've ever had in my life. The Cafe de Flore is right on Boulevard St. Germain, right next to another famous french Cafe, Les Deux Magots, known for celebrity clientele in the past such as Jean-Paul Sartre (yes, I will be constantly referencing Sartre). Both have the obligatory tux-clad waiters and $5 single shots of Espresso. Essentially, you go there for the whole experience. Sitting on the Boulevard St. Germanin, sipping an espresso, is a sublime Paris experience. All I need to do now is take up smoking (just kidding Mom).

I named this post "le temps passe" because it's the title of the latest Johnny Hallyday song, on which he collaborates with a french rap group. I saw him perform it live on the NRJ music awards (in french, the letter "J" is actually pronounced as the letter "G")... Frankly, it's a pretty ridiculous song, and about 10 years too late on the rap-fusion bandwagon.

Other things... Well, I've found that after almost two weeks here, time still flies by. I've somehow ended up popular enough to have dinner stuff all the way through saturday, and despite the sheer amount of things I'm doing (as if I'd have it any other way), le temps passe.

Musee Maillol

2006-01-22T17:41:00.000+01:00

Today I visited the Musee Maillol and ran around the St. Germain/Sorbonne area. I went over the Maillol to see an exhibition called "Le feu sous les sendres" (basically: the fire under the ashes... yeah, I know, "La Melancolie" and now this). The exhibition was subtitled "From Picasso to Basquiat" and included a sizable collection of Basquiat. His pieces were the big draw for me, and it definitely wasn't a letdown. The most moving were a collection by a Croatian artist named Zoran Music (sorry, he's only on French Wikipedia) who had survived Dachau. His paintings were very dark, depicting piles of bodies and ethereal forms. The Picassos were a lot of fun, and while not the most uplifting in the world, they weren't abjectly depressing like some of the others. Despite all of that, it was a very interesting museum. Take note that it's not very well-known by tourists. Yet.

My new resolution is to find uplifting art in Paris. I came close today with a photo exhibition at the Jardin de Luxembourg I checked out, but I'm searching for genuinely happy art now. I'll update people if that actually happens...

A few more photos...

2006-01-21T21:55:00.000+01:00

Meredith, once again being incredibly on top of stuff, has updated her photos from Jan 20 & 21. I was only around for the first part in the Montparnasse cemetary of the photos, but they're definitely worth a look. All of the graves/tombs were quite the sight. This would also be where you'd see me finally flashing my west side at Sartre's grave. I was frantically searching for paper to leave him a note... l'enfer, c'est les autres. Cheers Sartre.
Pictures (Montparnasse Cemetary, etc).

Random French TV Moment #1

2006-01-21T21:00:00.000+01:00

I'm currently watching the much-hyped NRJ Music Awards, straight out of Cannes. Anyways, I just tuned in to a french man wearing a Darth Vader costume singing of the french version "are you going to go my way" my Lenny Kravitz. That is all.

Pictures from the 1st weekend

2006-01-21T18:09:00.000+01:00

My friend Meredith took some pictures of me/other people/sights this weekend.
Get 'em while they're hot: Pictures

Includes Montmartre and the Egyptian Shisha Cafe...

Musee Jacquemart Andre

2006-01-21T17:21:00.000+01:00

Today I spent the afternoon at one of my favorite museums in Paris, the Musee Jacquemart Andre. The museum, on the Boulevard Haussman, is a stone's throw from the Arc de Triomphe. Originally, it was a private residence of Edouard Andre and his wife Nelie Jacquemart. They had a taste for art and for traveling, and thanks to an impressive banking fortune, they were able to amass an amazing collection of art, including Botticelli, Tiepolo, Rembrandt, Fragonard, and van Dyck. There's also lots of beautiful architectural aspects, including a specially-designed marble staircase (it's the middle thumbnail on the right).

Another big reason that I went there was to see the temporary exhibits from one of my favorite artists - Jacques-Louis David who's famous for a lot of his neoclassical paintings, his Napoleon paintings, and one of my favorite (and admittedly not uplifting) paintings, The Death of Marat. My friend Zeke Williams would also be happy to know that David did the Oath of the Horatii - I was able to see a small version of it there.

In a city that's filled with prestigious museums like the Louvre, Pompidou, and Orsay, it's nice to find something a little less hectic and a little less touristy.

En effet

2006-01-20T18:04:00.000+01:00

For the last week, I've been attending intensive french classes at the Institut Catholique de Paris. These courses, called propedeutique, have actually turned out to be very interesting. Since I was placed in a somewhat advanced-level course, we've spent most of our time on colloquial spoken french, basically what is of the mode (fashion) right now. For instance, today our professor took delight with the english expression "il y a les autres poissoins dans la mer" (there are other fish in the sea), which he'd never heard before, but did admit made a lot of sense. Our professor, who wears criminally tight Levis and various euro-sneakers, has made a point of getting us in gear for oral communication.
One thing that stands out are certain french transitory words, like donc (so), franchement (frankly), and most importantly, en effet (basically in effect, but pronounced as one word to sound like "enfete). It is not unusual to hear en effet every sentence, our professor used it twice in one today. While americans are most accustomed to saying phrases, something doesn't seem complete in oral french unless you have some sort of filler word in it. Often, you'll draw out the "c" on donc as you search for your response, turning donc into donc-uhhh.
This partially plays into larger issues of communication. Conversation, when it turns to abstract issues or politics can get suitably contentious quickly. Often, it will turn into one person stating their point, and then another jumping in and stating their point, ad nauseum. The exhibit I saw recently (and mentioned in an earlier post), La Melancolie, is a prime example of that. During the exhibit, which was beyond packed since it was of the mode, I saw many people taking notes on certain paintings. A lot of this, as I was informed, is for conversational purposes. You write down what you like/don't like to prepare yourself for discussions about the exhibit - which could be a topic at a dinner party (don't you dare discuss the weather, trust me).
For example, I tried recently to discuss La Melancolie with Jacques, my host father here, who is, for lack of a better expression, kind of a big deal in the art world in Paris. He had his favorites, but he also had his least favorites. When I mentioned a work, there was one of two responses - enthusiasm or dismissal. Something was either amazing and well-realized, or a gaspiage (waste) of gallery space.

Le climat

2006-01-20T17:57:00.000+01:00

Adjusting to the climate here in Paris has been a little difficult. Days are basically "gris." Sometimes it rains, once in a blue moon the sun shows, and most of the time it's just overcast. This has definitely had an effect on the mentality of me and my fellow american students. It's hard to get psyched up about a walk through Marais/Montmarte/wherever when things are so dreary. Luckily, it did somewhat lend to the ambience of visiting the Montparnasse Cemetary. We saw the graves of Albert Dreyfus (from the Dreyfus Affair), Jean-Paul Sartre, Charles Baudelaire, Samuel Becket, and that Larousse guy who started the dictionary company here... (if anyone wants to see a picture of me flashing the west side in front of Sartre's grave, let me know.)

Another issue has been the humidity. Even though it doesn't really get under 20 deg fahrenheit here, it gets you in the bones. If I hear my host dad say "il reste encore chaud aujourd'hui!" (it's warm again today) I might have to flip out. Just a little bit.

The Metro and Popular Humor

2006-01-19T21:45:00.000+01:00

Parisians freely admit that they just don't smile very often in public. The M.O. on the Metro is a perfect representation of that - it is borderline funereal - avoid eye contact, avoid looking like you don't know what's going on (aka getting off on the wrong stop... like me), and above all don't attempt to start up spontaneous conversation. I've learned to adjust by avoiding counting the number of stops I have left on my "Streetwise Paris" map, pretending to stare out the window, or just visually doublechecking to make sure I double-knotted my Converse high tops (the Parisians love converses and levis).

So, you can only imagine my continued amazement at the state of french popular comedy. Two nights ago I had the misfortune of tuning in to "Asterix et Obelix contre Cesar." This was a movie that had not only Gerard Depardieu as Obelix, but also Roberto Benigni as a foppish Roman General named "Detritus" who has a powdered face and wears lavender robes. (To be fair, my host dad said it was complete trash.) Unfortunately, it doesn't stop at Asterix live-action movies. This is a country that idolizes Jerry Lewis. There are plenty of toilet jokes on french television, and movies such as the new "Un Ticket a l'Espace," some sort of astronaut comedy, are no better. Another movie on the way here is a spanish movie that's been getting a lot of press is called "Bandidas," starring Salma Hayek and Penelope Cruz. They were recently interviewed on a french show I was watching. Both barely speak a lick of french, so as they were trying to follow along with the questions, the interviewer asks them "do you eat your boogers?" Everybody, but poor Salma and Penelope burst out laughing, who didn't understand the word. The interviewer repeats the word, saying "wait, you don't know what boogers are?" while the whole audience is in hysterics.

Anyways, I'm definitely going to have to see more before I delve into cultural anthropology, but I find it interesting that people who can be so serious in one medium can be so ridiculous in another (without making sweeping generalizations).

Sonic Inconveniences

2006-01-17T18:41:00.000+01:00

As I've mentioned before, eating in Paris is often a pretty expensive proposition. Even with a "Menu Formule," (essentially a salad, main course, and dessert/drink) it adds up quickly. One of the ways that students circumvent the priciness of meals is through the numerous student cafeterias located around Paris. These cafes are subsidized by the government and offer cheap hot food for 2.70 Euros per meal with a student ID. For example, today I went to one not too far from the Institut Catholique and got "steak," french fries, a salad, and some yogurt. None of the food was amazing, but after sitting in my "propedeutique" (intensive language sessions) for 3 hours, anything was fine.

The tricky part in these student cafes is jostling in line and to get a seat. Everybody packs in, with barely enough room to maneuver a tray, and you have to use a combination of "pardons" and elbows to get your point across. The students so value their lunch time that today, as Meredith, Steven and I were sitting having lunch amid a sea of brightly-colored scarves and rapidly moving silverware, the fire alarm went off. Everybody looked up, annoyed, and continued eating. Two people in the back, in this cafeteria full of over 150 people, got up and left. After 5 minutes, the alarm finally turned off, to no great fanfare or acknowledgement besides a few exasperated sighs from the young ladies sitting next to us. All of it brought me back to the days of high school and college at GWU, where a fire alarm isn't just a sonic inconvenience.

Apres quelques jours...

2006-01-16T19:30:00.000+01:00

One of the most intimidating things about Paris is the sheer amount of things to do. Be it museums, cafes, shopping, tourist sights, whatever, there is no lack of options here. Coming into Paris for a week or so the past two times, I’ve always found myself conducting some type of triage – deciding which sights are really worth it, which neighborhoods are the most Parisian, etc. This time, I’m faced with the opposite problem – there’s very little selection I have to do at this point. Since I’m so early in my trip, I can still hop on the Metro and get off at some random station, explore, and feel like I’ve spent a day doing something worthwhile. Random things, such as the Musee du Vin, or actually exploring the somewhat seedy neighborhood of Pigalle have become a lot more possible. So, while I’m constantly being inundated with a million new things to do, it’s great to know there’s a chunk of time always ahead of me.

Since I haven’t updated, well, since I got here, I figured I’d just write down some highlights and observations, since nobody wants to hear “I went here, then I went there and it was really cool, etc.”

Highlights:

- As always, the view from Sacre Coeur.

- Eating cheese and drinking wine by the Bon Marche today

- Realizing that my IES program is literally 90-odd percent female. Score.

- Having a Middle-Eastern night on Saturday, replete with Tunisian food and an Egyptian hookah bar.

- Spending 2 hours on Sunday just sitting in the Parc du Champ De Mars, staring out at the Seine and the Eiffel Tower

- My killer host family/location/apartment. The dad is high up at the Centre Pompidou, and gets all these art opening invitations and has special access to museums. The son is a musician/DJ, and I went to see him spin on Friday at a bar off the touristy part in Montmartre. The apartment is right on the Place de Clichy, so I’m a few minutes walk from Montmartre, but definitely not more than ½ an hour by metro from most of Paris, in addition to being 50 meters from a metro stop. The apartment is this really French 2-story place with a private terrace (which I have a prime view of), cool art, and a lot of charm

- The food in general – while everything is VERY expensive, I’ve been able to eat some decent food. They even serve Espresso at McDonalds (I only know that because all the McDonalds have WiFi).

- Seeing the art exhibit “La Melancolie” (how French) at the Grand Palais. It is the fashionable art exhibit now, and just finished on Sunday.

Observations:

- Less electricity. Parts of this apartment, such as the bathroom, are not heated (this makes for some very cold morning showers, despite the hot water). You also turn off lights/everything if you’re not in the room.

- Saying “bonjour” when you enter a place (ie: café or store) gets you a long way. Just acknowledging that you’re entering someone else’s space is key.

- Smiling here when you don’t know someone is seen as fake / disingenuous.

- Honestly, French people are very nice and accommodating, you just can’t expect good service by talking to someone in a foreign language.

- The women are so put together it’s ridiculous. Besides the fact that so many are just beautiful, they are always wearing a full outfit – sweatpants do not exist on the streets for them.