"Je suis Lucky Luke."

This was a draft of a post I never finished so I thought I'd put it up, it's a few days old.

Today we went to two fortified cities in Ardeche. It was incredible. The kids grandparents point out all the plants, trees, rivers, cities, and everything for me and I do a lot of nodding and smiling and looking in awe at everything. The cities were both from 'le douzieme siecle'(1100's) I said in broken french that it's many hundreds of years older than anything in the states and they did native american pantomime. It was pretty fun.

I've been noticing a lot about non-Paris France and I really like it. Other than the french part they have pretty much nothing in common. I haven't bought anything here but I noticed the same mums here are 8,50 euros that are around forty in Paris. The town that the house over looks is like any small town at home and the odd assortment of McDonalds and locally owned hardware stores is comfortingly familiar. Also no one speaks English here. There is something kind of comforting about that also. I'm so used to being patronised that I forgot how nice it is to be treated like a normal person. Instead of replying in English to my first word in French they just listen, help out and then talk slowly, knowing I'm trying my best. I have actually never been spoken to like this since I got here.

Another thing about foreign language is that when you are around one you don't really acknowledge it's importance because you can't tell whats being said. Often you don't even notice that it's there. Because of this I inturrept people speaking french to eachother(not a lot, just the kids) because I didn't understand the conversation I also didn't really hear it. This happens alot here because the kids and I still speak in English to eachother but it's just sort of white noise to their Grandma so she jumps in as if nothing were being said. It's something I never would have noticed if i hadn't been really bad at French and living here.

We jsut got back from watching the movie "Lucky Luke". I think this is a French comic but it's about a cowboy. The french really like cowboys and all things "old west". Well this movie was great because I've seen some old westerns and I know the history and it really is unique and pretty cool. I mean, it's so idolized and glorified and it says so much about Americans and all the intricacies of our culture and short but full history. Also, the movies can be really exagerated and tons of fun. But this was all in French so that was an added oddity. So it was extreme western with all the ingredients but with a french angle and all in French. BUT it also had real life characters like Jesse James, Billy the Kid and Calamity Jane. There was one priceless scene where a hand holding a gun from behind a curtain tries to shoot the president. Moments later Jesse James rescues the president. Wow, Jesse James rescues the president. It was good stuff, Lucky Luke, he shoots faster then his shadow...and his horse talks...and he has never killed anyone. So that was fun.

"Qu'est-ce qu'ils s'appelle en Anglais?"......"Um, lice."

On the train: It's cute but watch out for that hair, there's lice in it.
Jade et moi au Gare de Lyon
We carved us some pumpkins for halloween day. I also made potato spinach casserole which is about my favorite food ever. The kids wouldn't eat it so I'm crossing my fingers hoping there will be some left for this weekend when I'm home alone.
Versailles: This is the biggest painting ever. Josephine is at least twice my size.


I'm blogging from Ardeche near Montelimar. This morning we got up early to go by high speed train to the central south area of France. There is another family staying with us so there was all kinds of scuffling around in the early morning with coffee and packed lunches and such. We made it to the metro in good time, me with a messenger bag and a back pack plus the kids valise. Taking the kids on the metro can be kind of hard and stressful but it wasn't bad even though we got the morning crowd on their way to work. Sixteen stops later we were at Gare de Lyon and after waiting in confusion for about thirty minutes I found someone to help me find the right train.

The TGV is really nice and I look forward to going on it again on Saturday(even though my metro is closed over the weekend. I'm not excited about taking the bus). The view was beautiful showing all sorts of fall colors that seem to be nonexistant in the north.

The kids Grandparents are really nice and they speak very clear French. I haven't had to speak French out of necessity for much more than directions and monetary transactions so it been an interesting foret into the vocabulary of landscapes, sewing, plants, and social activities. By interesting I mean really frustrating but not all bad. I was looking forward to being in this sort of situation and it's the kind of looking forward that you have to some kind of self torture...like excercise or school or going to a foreign country where they speak the worlds most difficult language. It's incredible how important the most complex sentence structures and irregular conjugations are in the most everyday sort of dialogue. My comprehension of French if spoken carefully is pretty high but even the simplest response is made more difficult by the formal and informal, the feminine and the masculine and countless other intricacies of the language. the gender thing is probably the one thing I find least appealing about this language.

Sometimes I wish I could go back to school and study french for a few more years before immersion. But can't really call what I have immersion. I rarely speak french.

But anyway, it's fairly warm here and the rocky hills and small mountains of the Central Massif are covered in scrubby bushes that include rosemary and thyme and little olive and figue trees and cactus. Its an interesting landscape and i look forward to getting some pictures.

But in reference to the title, the big event is that as I was chatting with the coiffeuse in terrible french about the difficulties of french and she was trimming Noes hair she suddenly froze and picked a louse out of his head. She gave me a lot of advice and the atmosphere immediately changed from convivial trivialities to the grave act of bringing a lice infected child into a respectable hairdressing establishment. I looked and felt very subdued and reprmanded and uttered everything I knew from the ubiquitous "oh la la" to the rare "je suis desolee." Then she gave me directions to the nearest pharmacie.

Full Weekend

I took this picture this morning on my way back from breakfast in Puteaux with Hannah. This is one side of an island that is across from my apartment building. So I live to the right and closer towards the camera. Click to make it big.


Generally my weekends are pretty full. I always spend Monday kind of recovering from the social shock of spending most of my waking hours in the company of several people. I have church to thank for this problem. I'm really glad I went to church that first Sunday. It's been a total blessing all around.

Bear with me while I give you a little play by play. On Friday evening I left a house full of crying children to meet a friend from school and a couple of her friends. We were planning to go to Fajitas a real Mexican restaurant near St. Michel(across half the Seine from Notre Dame). I was really excited to find out about Fajitas. It was Hannah who first pointed it out to me. I'd already been there with Julianne so I spread the good news to my fellow Americans. Until very recently I had only met two Americans, no one else really cares about a good south western meal. But Fajitas is kind of crowded so while we waited we accumulated about a group of twelve. We were primarily American au pairs except Charlene who is a friend of mine from church. She's adorably British and works in Paris as a bilingual assitant. All of us are in awe of her French skills as well as her accent.

After finishing dinner we went down a little alley to a Scottish bar. Unfortunately for those of us living outside Paris the trains only run until 12:00 on Friday nights. So we left in order to avoid being stranded and falling victim to fake taxis and other horrifying scenarios branded into our minds from various news stories and movies in recent years.

The St. Michel area is really fun. It has a lot of English speaking themed bars like the Scottish one we were at and also and Irish and Canadian along the river. It's also a great place to get crepes. Hannah is kind of an expert on the area and she showed me Shakespeare and Co, an English bookstore thats the stuff of legends. Also there is this little movie theatre that plays old American movies that we went to once. So yeah, I should probably venture south of the Seine more often. I tend to go to Tuileries and rue de Rivoli every other day and sit on the same bench along the river.

On Saturday Julianne and I went to lunch at a little place called Scoop that is near Palais Royal. Scoop is famous for it's burgers and ice cream. It's very nice and trendy but we had a new server who was absolutely abysmal. We kind of forgave him because he said our french was very good. After sitting and taking up space for about four hours Julianne went to do homework and I walked off toward...rue de Rivoli. One nice thing is that the sidewalk is covered. It was pretty drisly so I went on that side of the road. The only problem is that it's so crowded with identical shops with berets, eiffel tower key chains and I heart Paris shirts that one can hardly make any head way. I spent way too much time getting another calendar at WH Smith, my favorite place in Paris.

Saturday evening was quiet and I ate pizza with Anne and the kids in front of French dubbed A Wizard of Oz. The songs were in the original voices so I was happy. Old fashioned french is much easier to understand.

Sunday morning I accidentally left and hour early for church so I get coffee and sat on the Seine and read my book. It wasn't quite as idyllic as it sounds. That stone bench was like and ice cube. But the sun was warm so it was pretty nice. After church I got lunch with five or so girls from church before a speed clothing exchange session. Even though I didn't bring anything I made it out with some gloves, a belt, some shirts and a scarf.

So that was my weekend. It was lovely. And next weekend I take the kids to the South of France to visit their grandparents. They don't speak English so I'm excited to have French be necessary.
Have a lovely day.

Paris Routine

Statue in Tuileries

I suppose the reason I've gone a long time without writing is because...I'm lazy. It isn't really that not much has been going on. There has been some going on, I started school. If I don't have some interesting anecdote I kind of run low on energy to blog. A general synopsis never came that easily to me. That being said I've been particularly verbose when it comes to hand written letters. I whip out pages of rambling letters that I mail off in thick envelopes. I guess I have more confidence saying nothing with a lot of words when I'm only sharing it with one person.

I haven't been going out and exploring or sightseeing too much recently. Somehow I replaced very good Paris Adventure time with general moping. My main problem is that I persuade myself that I shouldn't go out and do things when I have SO many things to do.

'What things?' you might ask, 'would you have to do, being displaced from your monstrous load of possessions and little circle of friends and most of your earthly purpose and responsibility?' Well, I'm one of those people whose cursed with messy habits but the need to have everything clean before I start anything. I'm one of those people who has nine hundred 'projects' because I really love starting books, letters, sewing garments, journal entries and knitting scarves. I'm one of those people who feels life is empty without finishing those projects and checking them off a list. I'm also one of those people who says 'I'm going to sew five dresses, finish two books and write seven emails today. But first let me drink a cup of tea and watch an episode of Pushing Daisies because I have so much time today.' Yep, story of my life. So after wasting lots of time I devote a few minutes to mentally flogging myself for my laziness. Then I start over and do it again.

Thats why I need much less time to waste. Thats why I have plans to start volunteering here. So we'll see how that goes.

But it is a little odd to have a real routine and sort of everyday-ness to being here. It's kind of cool. And it's also literally cool, finally. There was a really long time there were it would be pleasantly nippy in the morning and then turn into one of those days where you're wearing boots, leggings and a sweater and everyone else is dressed for the beach. When I picked up the kids today after three cool days I know it's starting to get really cool.

School is good but we focus on grammar far too much. We really need to just talk. It's hard though because most of us know English and some of the girls can't hardly speak any French. French with a Portugese accent is killer.

Aaaannd...

...technical difficulties. It tells me it's uploaded the picture but it obviously hasn't. I find text only to be pretty boring. Sorry folks. My pictures are interesting enough to add something to a post but not interesting enough for facebook.

But I hope to be a little more consistent in posting....and emailing. Sorry.

Mal a la Gorge

I woke up late on Monday morning to the sound of childrens voices as usual. I almost always wake up during the morning prep for school. However on Monday I heard these voices long past the time that everyone should have been gone to school. After emerging from my room into the world of the living I saw Jade curled up on the couch in front of the TV. She was very sick and needed to stay home from school. The doctor said she had strep throat and told her to stay home all week. On Tuesday Anne had to unexpectedly go out of town for a couple of days. FX was already out of town. Feeling the responsibilities grow I immediately began a sneezing routine that turned my head into a bombing ground. There were some predictable disputes over who got to sleep in mommy and daddys bed since they were gone and then high giggle volumes and then after several lectures from me there came the knock at my door with two teary pairs of eyes telling me they couldn't sleep without mommy and daddy there. In the end they all fell asleep much later than recommended. I drove them to school in the morning having many controversies with the GPS on the way there as well as laments over the lack of discipline with which Parisiens drive. Carting all the kids to American school was a very French experience as many mothers elbowed their way through packed halls, even carrying their strollers up the stairs just to deliver their kids to the right classroom. Fortunately most of the teachers were really American and I had the comforting privilege of talking to some motherly treachers who were probably from Texas. When I told Jades teacher that she would not be attending that week she said "Aw, bless her heart," and handing me a note to parents, "here you hun."

I'm getting the hang of driving. I even sort of ignore the few lane lines but I still use my blinker. It doesn't hurt that I'm drivng a tiny little car that tells me when I've arrived at one centimeter from the car behind me. I can now say that parallel parking does not intimidate me. Finally. Buses however, do.

On the night when the kids got no sleep I slept very well....until 2:47 when I awoke from a disturbingly vivid dream that came in many scenarios all indicating that my throat had a patch at the back of my mouth that had been lit on fire and sand papered. It was one of those feelings that you have probably had before but you can't beleive that you have ever lived through this much pain and are not sure f you'll make it this time. When I had drunk some water and lain back down I got to take note of the unique sensory experience of a mere sore throat turning into a head cold a runny nose and a cough in about as long as it takes to read this. I didn't go back to sleep. At all.

After dropping the kids off at American school and bringing Jade home by way of many U-turns, I gave myself a pep talk to get the nerve up to go to the pharmacy and face the complex vocabulary of sickness and medicine. I wasn't worried about it really, I had Jade and I had the magic words.

"Bonjour, j'ai mal a la gorge. J'a besoin de medicament. Est-ce que vous avez cepacol?"

chirp, chirp

The young attractive pharmacist that Agathe had pointed out to me on day two of my stay in Paris looked at me for a moment and then leaned down to rest his elbows on the counter and gave me an intense gaze. Disregarding my request and glancing at Jade he said, "Comment?"(What?)

Suddenly I wasn't so sure of what I needed to say, surely those were intelligible words enough, why didn't he just get me cepacol? I knew they didn't recommend medicine at American pharmacies but the little green illuminated cross that apeared at every corner and someplace in between all over France meant something different. These were like demi-doctors, they give you what you need, all three of my French teachers had told me this in many clear words. Like many other unhelpful stares I'd experienced before I found this one uncomfortable and unnerving. I repeated my request with many ums and uhs and looked to Jade hoping she would help me clear this up. It's happened before that in times of great need the accompanying child has suddenly become MIA; I glance between them and an unforgiving stare that only a tourist in France or a hispanic in the US can understand and they have taken on a shyness that they don't possess giving me a look that says something like, "yeah, why DON'T you get what they're saying?"

Before Jade could jump in to rescure me(as if she were going to or something) this pharmacist said the French equivalent of "don't help her, she needs to speak in French, this is France." Thats exactly what he said. Then turning back to me with that total lack of regard for personal space that I find particularly distasteful under such circumstances he asked,

"Tu es Italienne? Espagnole? Allemande? Anglaise?--"

"Je parle Anglais." I jumped in, "J'ai mal a la gorge," I added for good measure and momentarily considered for the millionth time the peculiar effect limited vocabulary has on the expression of personality.

He clicked his tongue and gave a little mock sigh, "Je ne parle Anglais."Of course you don't, you only parle jerk.

If in that moment I'd had the words I would have said, "that's why I'm speaking French." But instead I said "cepacol". For some reason he decided to take this as a really bad pronounciation of "si possible"(if possible).

"Non," I said emphatically, I did NOT mean 'if possible', I meant 'give me some medicine right now', "le nom de le medicament est cepacol!" It really is, I checked when I got home. He smiled and raised his eyebrows looking to Jade and giving his head a slight shake. I turned to Jade and said that I needed a lozenge or a cough drop or something for a sore throat.

"I understood." I looked at him in disbelief. Or I should say I looked at him and confirmed everything I already thought about Parisien salespersons.

In the end I left with something that was not what I wanted and another lecture in English about the importance of speaking French in France....after I'd been speaking in French and they'd refused to understand and had flaunted their English skills....again.

I make these people sound really bad, and I haven't even told about the fight that the cashier and delivery guy had at the grocery store today, it's everyday stuff. Customer service is just not something they do here. Well, it is but it's not some sort of company inforced thing, it just depends on the person behind the counter. There are plenty of nice people it's just a different kind of manners here. Anne told me today that I was very American since I never reply to the 'how are you?' with anything but positive. I don't know why we are like that but I've always considered it kind of rude to say you aren't good when someone asks. I also think it's rude to let your massive bag assault people as you walk down the street without so much as a sorry or excuse me. But it's just one of those things.

On another note, I started French classes(finally) and so far really like it. I should probably be doing my homework right now. It's an 8:00 class, sixteen girls and one boy. It's really diverse group, and even though many of them speak English there is only one other girl who is a native Enlgish speaker. It's interesting to have the only common language to all of us be French when none of us are native speakers. It also lends a lot of comfort and security to the situation that is completely lacking in the real life scenario.

So thats my little story for today.