May 26, 2009

Grève

n. – strike
Striking is a way of life in France. Today someone was striking about something they were unhappy about and through striking, they can in turn make everyone else unhappy as well. There were many of us unhappy people on the metro this morning.

Usually I take the car with my husband to work, but since he had a meeting, I was on my own. Well, not really if you consider the hundreds of people I was squished against on the train. The first one was too crowded to even get on, but since I was already running late, I couldn’t let the second one go by.

I don’t think I’ve ever even been as close to my husband as I was to the strangers surrounding me. I had to laugh at the ones trying to hold on to something. There was no need since there was no way to fall down. It’s as if we were one collective mass of heat and sweat. I was sweating from places I didn’t know you could sweat from. Well, make that glow, my mother always said “horses sweat, men perspire, women glow.” I was glowing like a nuclear reactor.

I know to a metro/subway veteran my story is probably not that shocking. I know people in Tokyo are actually pushed into trains with spatulas until they're ready to burst. But I don’t want to take the metro in Tokyo. I don’t want to take the metro anywhere ever again after this morning. And if the strike is designed to make you feel empathy for the strikers, it doesn’t. It only makes me hate them, whoever they are. What’s ironic to me is that today is the day people celebrate Fête des Voisins (party for the neighbours) as a way to meet one another. So I guess I celebrated my Fête des Voisins on the train thanks to the grève.

May 24, 2009

Météo

n. – weather
Every week night from 7-8:45, there is a show called Le Grand Journal (the great newspaper literally translated, but really like a combination news /talk show). Emphasis is more on entertainment even when it comes to the weather.

Miss Météo as she’s called or the weather girl (because she’s always been a girl) comes on mid-show and prior to the forecast puts on a sort of skit. It’s relatively basic, but short and she’s pretty so nobody seems to mind if it’s not hilarious.

Paris weather is mercurial. This past 4-day weekend we were told to expect clouds and rain and instead awoke each day to blue skies and sun. I joked with my husband that maybe it’s because the weather girl is too busy thinking of skits and not paying enough attention to the weather patterns that her forecasts are inaccurate. But I think it’s just another facet of the unpredictability of this place. And in the case of sun over showers, being pleasantly surprised makes you appreciate it even more.

Salé

adj. – salty
Sucré
adj. – sweet
The other night we went to the movies, my first time since moving to Paris. I decided to treat myself to popcorn, another thing I haven’t had much of since moving here. The woman asked me if I wanted it “salé,” salty or “sucré,” sweet to which my husband responded affirmatively, “sucré.” I assumed this meant that there wasn’t extra salt on the popcorn vs. actually sweet popcorn. So I tried to clarify with both my husband and the lady and discovered that in fact it really did mean sweet.

I still didn’t understand, sweet like caramel corn sweet or just popcorn with sugar on it instead of salt? I told her I would rather have the salty to which she defensively responded that I had asked for sweet. Indeed I had, but that was before I actually understood that it was really sweet. I can understand her confusion. She was even willing to let me try some of the sweet, which I declined. I would imagine that she would have no problem re-selling the container from which I plucked a sweet kernel where in the U.S. it would have been discarded immediately.

Well having that sorted out, we proceeded into the theatre. I think it was the first time in my life when I’ve actually been the first person in. It was massive and empty. The long weekend and lovely weather had kept the crowds away. So my husband, friend and I chose our seats smack dab in the center. A few more people trickled in and what I found so amusing is that they proceeded to sit right next to us. They didn’t even allow one courtesy seat’s difference. Here we were, albeit in the middle, of a theatre that could hold hundreds and yet, directly on either side of us the few people sat. I chalk it up to the Latin culture and the way they view personal space. They like as little as possible where we prefer to keep our distance a bit more. Or perhaps it was because despite our salty popcorn, there was just something sweet about us.

May 17, 2009

Haricots verts

n. – green string beans
Haricots blancs
n. – white beans
Haricots beurre
n. – yellow string beans or butter beans
There is nothing like fresh produce and in Paris it is abundant. We are lucky enough to live right next door to a little green grocer called Harry Cover (if you think of pronouncing it with a heavy French accent, it sounds like “haricots verts” or string beans – clever).

Harry (well if that’s really his name) can often be seen standing outside meticulously arranging the various fruits and vegetables. Giant white asparagus stand up in their little basket along side fresh white peaches – their fragrance reminding you of the summer that’s just around the corner. Large plump, red cherries rest beside equally plump and colourful tomatoes and the aroma of fresh basil is hard to resist. A simple meal of mozzarella, tomato and basil, whether served on a plate with fresh olive oil, salt and pepper drizzled over it or sandwiched within a fresh still warm baguette, is probably our favourite weekend at-home lunch.

While you can’t find fresh mozzarella at Harry Cover’s, he has all sorts of other cheeses from soft bries to hard goats to spicy roqueforts, the latter we sometimes pair with crisp endives, tart granny smith apples or delicious juicy pears. Another great pairing of salty and sweet is marrying a nice ripe goat cheese with fig preserves. Other fruit favourites are kiwis and clementines.

When visiting the grocers, it’s their responsibility to pick out the choicest fruit or vegetable or cheese. They will ask what you plan on doing with it, when you want to eat it, etc. so they can determine the best possible selection. There’s always the option of something ripe and ready to eat so you can make guacamole on the spur of the moment rather than having to keep the avocado in a paper bag in the drawer until it’s ready. It’s easy to get carried away at Harry Cover’s, which is unfortunate if we’ve picked more ripe fruit than we have time to eat. So we just have to remind ourselves that he’s just downstairs and with each day, a new delivery of freshness is there for the asking.

Pick-pocket

n. the same
I have a lovely new friend that I met since moving to Paris. She’s a fellow American here to study French. She and I have bonded over the many cultural differences and challenges of adjusting to Parisian life. And we both have now found ourselves enraptured with the city. At first we joked about how I envied her since she was only here for six months and would be free to return back home. Now we’re both sad that she’s leaving and wish we could find a way to keep her here longer.

She’s been under the weather recently and only just yesterday emerged from her bed to resume her French classes and life in the city. While getting off the metro, she felt someone bump into her and something about it just didn’t feel right. Sure enough when she reached into her purse, her phone was gone.

Paris, like many European cities, is more prone to pick-pocketing and petty crime than mugging and more serious acts of violence. Still, it’s not nice when someone takes your things and this is exactly how my friend felt when she realized her phone had been pinched. She saw the two young perpetrators and proceeded to follow them. She was less fearful than exasperated and when confronting them there must have been something in her eyes, since there were no words spoken that let them know she meant business. Taking her phone was simply not an option. Without any objection, they handed it back to her, including the little worthless charm that was hanging from the holder and walked away.

She regaled us with this story over lunch at a Japanese restaurant. Many of these restaurants are actually run by Chinese since Chinese food is harder to sell here. This one was ok, but I suspect not as authentic as it could have been. For dessert, there was a strange looking apricot shaped fruit the waiter identified as a nef. Upon further googling though, I discovered that it was actually a loquat and a fruit of Southeastern China, but Japan is also a leading producer. The skin, which was shiny, was easy to peel off and the seed looked similar to that of a lychee. The fruit was tart and sweet at the same time and the consistency was something between an apple and a peach. I kept eating it and observed out loud that it was a strange sensation – not liking it at first, but then feeling like it grew on me. My husband then added – sort of like Paris and my friend and I couldn’t have agreed more.

May 14, 2009

Foot

n. – soccer
arbitre
n. – referee
Marchand de journaux
n. – newsstand vendor
My husband enjoys watching soccer and I have to admit, I’ve started enjoying watching the occasional game as well. Soccer is faster and leaner than American football. There’s not all that heavy body armor and while the object is to take the ball away from your opponent, it doesn’t require a pile of men jumping on top of each other to do so. Rugby, while looking a lot rougher than soccer, is actually known more as the gentleman’s sport. Each, like any sport, inspires impassioned fans and the passion is easier to maintain since there are no breaks for commercial interruptions. The games begin, are played for 90 minutes and then end (save the occasional overtime or injury penalties).

Watching soccer, like watching football, requires a lot of yelling at the television, the players, and the referees. My husband yells when something bad or good happens – sometimes I’m not sure which has occurred, but if there’s swearing involved it’s most often something bad. Watching sports is stressful which is why I prefer not to pick a favourite team. This way I won’t be disappointed when one team loses. Tennis makes me nervous as does figure skating, but gymnastics is probably the hardest because it’s so dangerous. I don’t usually have to worry about the latter two though unless it’s the Olympics. When we watched the last Soccer World Cup in New York, it was downright depressing. So I try not to get too attached.

The match we watched last week was a nail biter between Barcelona and Chelsea. Barcelona won with some controversy surrounding the referee. Chelsea players were swearing and pointing fingers and frankly it was all a little frightening. The next morning when I stopped by the newsstand to pick up my weekly Paris Match, I picked up a copy of L’Equipe, the daily sports paper, for my husband. The vendor assumed they were both for me and so began to engage me in a dialogue about the game, how Chelsea was robbed and that the calls by the ref were bad. I didn’t know the word for referee so I wasn’t really sure what he was talking about, but decided to sound intelligent by adding my own opinion about the referee which was in fact exactly what he had been saying!

That happens a lot with my father-in-law, too. Some people I just have a harder time understanding than others and I can usually pass it off by smiling and nodding until the conversation stops and I realize some sort of response from me is required. My father-in-law (who is “gentil comme tout” or as sweet as anything) loves “jeux de mots” or plays-on-words so it’s not always easy to keep up with him. It can also be tricky in French since there are many “faux amis” or false friends.

To choose a few, “isolation” actually means insulation where “isolement” means isolation. “Sensible” means sensitve (there doesn’t seem to be a word for sensible unless you want to use “pratique”, which does in fact also mean practical). “Traiteur” doesn’t mean someone who betrays you, but rather someone who caters food, sort of like a deli. “Figure” means face where “silhouette” means figure and “ligne” means nice figure as in the expression “je dois garder ma ligne” meaning I have to watch what I eat. “Corps” means body, but a live one even though it rhymes with “mort” which means dead.

There are many English words that the French don’t translate like weekend, chewing gum and fun as a few examples. But what I particularly enjoy is how they keep the English word, but pronounce it as if it were French. My friend Marie couldn’t understand why I didn’t know the famous actor she was talking about until I figured out that Reeshard Zhere was in fact Richard Gere. Last night it took me some time to figure out that Owoelle was actually AOL – I think the Tyme Warnere after it gave it away.

So my French continues to improve and my appreciation for sports continues to increase, but we’re taking a break from soccer this week to watch the festivities at the Cannes Film Festival. Who knows maybe we’ll spot some big stars like Zhouliah Roberes.

May 6, 2009

Muguet

n. – lily of the valley
Jour férrié
n. – day to be celebrated or day off
May 1st signifies the first day of summer in France or the equivalent of Labor Day. Of course, they get the summer started off earlier here rather than wait until the end of May like we do and as such, May 1st is actually the first of several holidays during the month. Lilies of the Valley are sold everywhere and the scent of the delicate flowers permeates the air. I read somewhere that the flowers are also known as “our lady’s tears” signifying the tears shed by Eve when she and Adam were forced out of the Garden of Eden. But that connotation is a bit sad to think of when celebrating the first day of summer with such a pretty fragrant little flower.

Bébé à bord

car sticker – baby on board
I don’t have so much to say about this as I’m not sure where the concept for this sign originated. It’s only because we now have a car and drive almost every day that I notice more of these signs. I respect that people want you to be careful of their car since there is a baby inside, but shouldn’t we all be careful of each other’s cars regardless? I mean, it’s not as if you say to yourself, well I’ll be sure not to hit that car now that I know there’s a child in it. It should be a fairly instinctive sentiment to begin with. The funny thing about the word baby here though is that it’s masculine. So no matter whether your baby is a boy or a girl, when referring to it as the baby, it automatically becomes a he. So be especially careful when you see a car with that sign on it because it means he’s in there.

Sous pression

adv. – under pressure
Bavarder
v. – to chat
There is one rule I’ve learned when grocery shopping in Paris. Never be in a hurry until it’s time to check out. I say this because the other day as I was zooming through to pick up some items on the way home from work, I mistakenly bought a six pack of paper towels thinking it was toilet paper. It’s also best to take the cart or basket at the entrance even if you think you’re only going to pick up a couple of things because it never ends up being just a couple of things. Pretty soon your arms are full and you have to make the journey back to the front of the store for the basket after all. Keeping the purchases at a minimum is helpful though when you realize you still have to carry everything home.

The grocery clerks here have a very specific job description and that is to ring up your purchases in the cash register and accept payment…nothing more…nothing less. This is where the rushing part comes in handy because as soon as your things are priced, you better be ready on the receiving end of the clerk to put them into the shopping bag you’ve brought – that is if you are prepared and environmentally conscious. The second option for those doing things on the fly and who also may need something to put the garbage in later, is to use the plastic bags provided by the clerk (as an addendum to their job description).

Just because they don’t come to your aid with the packing of your purchases doesn’t mean the clerks aren’t engaging. In fact most store clerks regardless of the type of store are very chatty, which goes back to why you shouldn’t be in too much a rush when trying to make a purchase. Of course, if the supermarket clerks were busier packing your groceries, they may be less chatty, but then what would be the fun in that.

Tapas

n. – a variety of appetizers

Tapas restaurants are challenging when you’re an only child like me. The thought of ordering food I really want to eat and then sharing it with others is hard. It’s the same problem I have when people want to share dessert. I know it’s selfish and perhaps not lady-like since we’re not supposed to eat very much, but I want my own dessert. Well, I’ll offer a bite here or there, but not half.

Last night we went to a lovely tapas restaurant in the Marais where you could order up to seven different small servings, but whatever you ordered ends up altogether on your plate. In fact, you even have to write your name down next to your selections. My name is Dawn, but here I am mostly known as Down so I have to pay special attention when someone is calling my name.

“Croquettes” sounds like it should be something served at a tapas restaurant, but it’s actually like kibble or dog food. I always confuse the word with “Cracottes,” a light, crunchy fruit filled biscuit that we eat in the morning. What we call an appetizer, here is called an “entrée” and what we call an entrée, here is called the “plat” or dish. “Assiette” is actually not what you sit on, but the word for plate and “serviette,” while it sounds like something you would serve something on actually means napkin or towel. “Drap,” which looks like it’s the start of the word drape actually means sheet. “Rideau” means curtain and “ride” means wrinkle. “Moquette” means carpet, where “tapis” means rug and tapas brings us back to where we started.

Mercredi

n. – Wednesday
I suppose being the middle day of the week holds significance. In English, it’s called “hump day,” I suppose because once past it you’re over the hump and well on your way to the weekend. I was born on a Wednesday and as the nursery rhyme says, “Wednesday’s child is full of woe.” I always found this a bit unfair since the other children are either “fair of face” or “full of grace” or otherwise more fortunate. My mother felt the same way which is why she had a little cup inscribed for me with the revised description “Wednesday’s child knows no woe.”

In New York, Wednesday is matinee day. It’s always a day to avoid the restaurants on the early side of lunch near the theater district as theater-goers flock there to dine pre-show. In France, it is a day off from school for young children. For that reason, it is the day to avoid going to the prefecture. I know that because I was there today – Wednesday – all day. I had an appointment for what I thought would be my final round in securing my carte sejour or resident visa. As has been the particular pattern, there was to be a new twist, an unexpected surprise of which I hadn’t already been informed. I would get the card, but not until after I have a physical exam. The first appointment is at the end of June so erring on the side of caution, I decided to apply for a return visa, a simple stamp they place in your passport just in case you travel out of the country before the carte sejour process is finalized.

This is where my day came to a grinding halt. I’ve never seen so many children – running, laughing, crying, nursing, falling, yelling, eating, climbing. A child can make the simplest, and what would be to an adult the most tedious, task into something greatly entertaining. They enjoy repetitive motion. They never tire of jumping down the three steps and then jumping back up, jumping down, jumping up and so on. They may trip or fall, then cry, then recover and then start the process all over again. It’s fascinating and exhausting to watch. The parents have a range of expressions from amusement to fatigue. I needed a nap when it was all over. But I have my stamp and at this point in the day, am well over the hump.