Today in Belleville

Today, Louis and I visited two nearby places we've been meaning to go to for some time. First, we headed into the 20th arrondisement to check out Ding Fring, a "charity" shop. All the clothes are second-hand (eco-friendly!) and the proceeds go to a charity (Emmaüs). I'm not quite sure what Ding Fring means (pronounced in French it sounds even weirder). We browsed the quite wide selection of pants, dresses, shirts, jackets, and more. Eventually, I tried on three skirts and came out with a red one in solid wool for only 12.50 euros! (Picture of me in the skirt forthcoming.)

The other adventure of the day was an absolutely fabulous dinner at Kiwizine, a restaurant just around the corner on rue Rebeval. The interesting thing about this place is that it's actually a non-profit association, not a restaurant. This means that anyone who eats there must be a member. To become a member, one pays 2 euros. So we did. And it was totally worth it. The restaurant is only open Friday and Saturday, and there are no choices on the menu. Tonight's menu: pumpkin soup with honey and mustard, garnished with cream and fresh parsley; filet of salmon over risotto with mushrooms topped by asparagus wrapped in ham; fondant au chocolat with raspberry sorbet. There are almost no words to describe the deliciousness of this meal. I can only say that we will definitely be going back. Maybe it's a good thing they are only open two days a week!

We Have a Winner!!

Congratulations to Laurenmcw, who won our second photo challenge! She correctly identified that the photos from two previous posts (here and here) were taken at the Parc de Bercy, just across the river from the Bibliothèque Nationale de France. Two weeks ago, on a walk with our new friends Rachel and Adam, we discovered these random statues - and the artists who were slapping new coats of paint on them. We couldn't decide if they were "for real" or not. Who sculpts stereotypes of people from different cultures, and in bronze no less? Of course, for some of them the stereotypes are less obvious (maybe the next photo challenge is figuring out what culture each statue is supposed to represent):

Adam tries to guess the statue's native culture

Turns out they're just façades. Just like the message they seek to impart to society?

View of the Bibliothèque Nationale de France from the Parc de Bercy, over the Passarelle Simone de Beauvoir

As her prize for winning the photo challenge, Laurenmcw should look for something small, tasty, and typically Parisian to arrive in the mail within the next few weeks. Congrats!

Maggie Did Not Approve This Post

I couldn't relegate this to a comment on her last post. This is pretty much what Maggie did all week:

Panda could not have been happier.

La grippe!

There's a flu bug getting passed around

And it's spreading like fire through the town

There's a virus holing up inside us

Everyone that I know is coming down

There's an asian influenza

Infecting us all by the score

And it's turning into pneumonia

We must go out once more

There's a fool moon howling at the night

And its bark is much worse than its bite

So we must go out and dance around

Yes we must go tonight

La grippe!, salsa!

(Squirrel Nut Zippers, via LyricsFreak)

This week, I didn't leave the house. Not once. Not even to track down a tasty croissant or practice conjugasions at my cours de français. What could ever have kept me inside in such a delightfully vibrant city on such delightfully beautiful fall days? As SNZ said, la grippe! That's right. I caught a bug. Perhaps it was on the metro when a woman sneezed right on my hand. Perhaps it was the boys I babysit, who ever so sweetly gave me bises before leaving for vacation. Or perhaps it was due to the incredible humidity levels in this city and in our apartment (I mean, really, 80-90% humidity? You've got to be kidding me!).

In any case, I got it. I endured. It's done. Mostly.

Now, you may be wondering... was I the latest victim of the SWINE FLU??????? Insert scary music here. Perhaps. But here in France, you would simply call me the latest victim of la grippe A. Sounds more pleasant, right? And in fact, I would say that based on our religious viewings of World News Tonight with Peter Jennings Charles Gibson, folks back home are waaaay more concerned about this flu than they are here in France. In fact, we haven't heard anything about how or where to get vaccinated. (FYI: We will get vaccinated if given the opportunity. Take that Glenn Beck.)

In conclusion, I may or may not have contracted the H1N1 virus. According to my doctor I did display some, but not all, of the symptoms associated with this virus. And, because I'm young and healthy, there was no need to get tested or undergo further treatment. Alas.


Oh, and we got ourselves a déshumidificateur. I feel better already.

Quiche Bis

Four years ago, my French host mother first taught me how to make quiche, and I've been tinkering with the recipe ever since. (It's only recently that Maggie and I also started tinkering with our food photography, inspired as we are by Smitten Kitchen, the most amazing food blog ever.)

This is the second quiche I've made since we arrived ("bis" means "again"; you can see the first one here), and I'm extremely pleased with how it came out. It has a whole wheat, spiced crust (I used herbes de provence), caramelized onions and lardons (the traditional French version of bacon), crème fraîche, eggs, and a light sprinkling of emmenthaler. There's still some leftover if you're in the neighborhood and feel like dropping by!

Compare it to a few quiche/salad plats we've had at various bistrots/cafés:

Café le Paris, 24 Rue St.-Sabin, 11e

Pause Café, 41 Rue de Charonne, 11e

In conclusion, Maggie and I are thinking about opening our own café. I will make the quiche, cookies, and cakes; she will make the coffee, bagels, and breads. Would you be our customer?

American Library of Paris

Maggie learned about the American Library of Paris a few weeks ago, and while snooping around on their website I saw that they have a monthly book sale. The next one takes place on November 7th - the day after Maggie takes the GRE! - and we might check it out. Apparently, the American Library of Paris is the largest English-language lending library on the continent and has been around since 1920. Who knew??

To join the library you have to pay a membership fee. For students it's 75 euros, which is almost three times what I paid for a year's access to the BN. (Then again, the BN doesn't let me take out books. And I still haven't gotten over the fact that its music collection (books, scores, recordings, manuscripts, etc.) is spread out over five different locations. That is lame. Hey BN, if I paid more money to spend 9 months doing research at your various branches, could you put everything I need in one place? Thanks!)

The American Library of Paris is located at 10, rue du Général Camou, in the 7th arrondissement, and it's open Tuesday through Saturday, 10 AM through 7 PM.

No, Seriously. Guess Where!

A few days ago I posted a funny picture and challenged you to guess where it was taken. So far, no one has guessed, so I'm just going to add another clue or two to stimulate your interest/imagination:

And this next one may make it more obvious . . .

If you were with us when these pictures were taken, you're ineligible to guess. And if you don't live in Paris or have never been, I will accept guesses of general neighborhoods or even arrondissements. Go for it!

Utilities

As you walk in our door and turn to your left to hang up your coat, you may notice something you don't see in American households:

You're not sure what it is, but you know it's unusual. You step closer.

Ok - circuit breaker, electricity meter, two other thingies. Electricity meter!? That's what we said. What's this doing inside? How does the energy company read the meter? We still don't know. And the other thingies? They must be important, since they have "official" seals on them. If anyone has any ideas, please let us know.

One thing we do know is that we get charged less for electricity between 11 PM and 6 AM (actually, 7 now that we're out of DST). We know this not only because someone told Louis when he first called EDF to set up our electricity billing. We also know because we are reminded every single night, when the electricity meter audibly switches from "daytime" to "nighttime" measurement:

Clearly Louis finds this fascinating. (He also clearly didn't realize that the reason for the loud click is that the arrow on the meter switches from HP (J) [Heures Pleines - Jour] to HC (N) [Heures Creuses - Nuit].) Ok, maybe it's a little fascinating.

Fall Back

As of last night, our time difference with the East Coast is only 5 hours - we're out of Daylight Savings Time!!

That will be all.

Guess Where?

Our first social engagement this evening was drinks with senior Francophone music scholars from England. Then, we dined with some French-Canadian junior musicologists. That's a poor segue to this fun piece of Paris trivia: Where can you find the following statue, along with others representing different ethnicities/countries/stereotypes?

More baking adventures

This week, we spent some more time in the kitchen baking up delicious treats because, among other things, it's a great way to stay warm!

We made a second batch of bagels that came out a bit smaller and even more delicious looking than the first (egg white, we love you).

The second baking success involved something that arrived many weeks ago, a few days after we got here, in a care package sent by Louis' mom: Reese's Peanut Butter Chips - the secret ingredient in Louis' Famous Chocolate Peanut Butter Chip Cookies (shhh... don't tell). Finally, after searching the town, we found all of the necessary ingredients to make these oh-so-delicious cookies. Ok, so actually, Louis made these cookies all by himself - but I was a very good taste-tester.

Kudos to Louis for figuring out how to make cookies without cookie sheets... they taste just like home.

Daily Routine

Dear Loyal Reader,

I know the only thing that remains unclear to you about this entire adventure is what I do every day, besides blog. Hopefully this post will help explain things.

Best,

Louis

Every day, I go to the Bibliothèque Nationale Département de la Musique, at 2 Rue de Louvois in the 2e Arrondissement.

Inside, I read books, search through the card catalogue (yes, a real card catalogue, which for whatever reason is much better organized than the online catalogue), get chastised by librarians for requesting things the wrong way, and I learn. Oh boy, do I learn. I love learning. That's why I'm in this business.

Still, research is taxing and sometimes frustrating, so it should come as no surprise that my favorite part of the day tends to be lunch. Around 1:30 every afternoon, as long as it's not raining, I head just across the street from the music library to the Square Louvois, located on one former site of the Paris Opéra (it kept moving around due to frequent fires until 1875, when the Palais Garnier was completed).

This is what I look at while I eat lunch (usually from the other side, which is ensoleillé (sunny)):

This is what it sounds like to eat lunch there:

After enjoying four courses (usually some kind of sandwich, peanuts, dessert, a piece of fruit) and the conversation of my neighbors, I head back inside, rather full and a little drowsy. Surprisingly, the sounds the microfilm machines make have the habit of lulling me to sleep:

That's why I try to avoid reading from microfilm right after lunch. For the rest of the afternoon, I alternate reading from books and reading from microfilm. Sometimes, if I need to wake myself up or to hear a music example in a book I'm reading, I play piano in one of two small rooms they make available to lecteurs (readers/library patrons). Thoroughly wood-paneled, these rooms not only smell like a sauna but are woefully un-sound-proof. I can't decide what's worse: that you can't get recordings in this music library, or that you can't avoid the faint sounds of people like me playing out-of-tune pianos in rooms adjacent to the reading room. Maybe they should start offering earplugs.

France v. Austria, Part C

One of the highlights of the game last Wednesday (has it really been a week already?) came at the very end, when a French victory was all but assured. Over-enthusiastic fans took it upon themselves to get the celebrations started early - by running onto the field and avoiding security for as long as possible.

This happened twice. In a row.

The more restrained public expressed their excitement in a series of quality "waves," one of which you can hear here, after a chant I couldn't quite make out, and followed by a different wave of unhappy "woooos":

At French sporting events, the wave isn't something people just get up and do when it comes to them - they prepare for it, starting to stamp their feet and make noise when the wave is still a few sections away. I've also seen people put their arms straight out in front and shake them a little while they're waiting for the wave to arrive, and then when it does, the effect of everyone's arms moving in concert is a neat thing to see. (Unfortunately it doesn't really come out in this video, but you do get a sense of the crowd, the game, the security presence, and the use of those fans/noisemakers/banners.)

La Mercerie

Prior to embarking on yet another stage of the visa/green card process, Maggie and I met for lunch. We headed into an area of the 6th where there are tons of great restaurants (just around the corner from Fish La Boissonnerie, in fact) with the intention of choosing a place on the spot. After looking at a few crêperies, we chose a rustic little place that seemed to be full of locals - always a good sign. La Mercerie offered two different formules: entrée + plat + boisson, 12,50 euros; and entrée + plat + dessert + boisson, 14,50 euros. Of course we went for the latter.

For only the first or second time since our arrival, we were actually disappointed by the meal. My gigot d'agneau (leg of lamb) tasted more like the grill than anything else, and the celery and carrot purées that accompanied it were a little bland. Maggie's chili con carne was hearty and satisfying, but her tarte aux myrtilles (blueberry tart) lacked punch. The crème anglaise that accompanied both our desserts (I had mousse au chocolat) could have offered way more of a vanilla flavor than it did. On the other hand, wine flowed freely (we started with two glasses of white wine of dessert-level sweetness, and our included "boisson" ended up being a carafe of house red), the décor was pleasant, and we might have had our friendliest and most attentive waitress yet.

In conclusion, we hit a dud, but we'll keep going back to that area to try out the other restaurants around the corner. (See "Restaurant Central" on Rue de Guisarde on our map of Paris.)

View Our Paris in a larger map

Cultural Differences Part 2

• Many public-ish bathrooms (such as those in métro stations, or in the Bibliothèque Nationale Département de la Musique) have, within the same room, stalls marked "Homme" and stalls marked "Dame."
• French students have vacances scolaires (break from school) all next week. (Princeton's break is next week too, but Princeton is weird. And Boston gives students off for a random week in February and another random week in April. Boston is weirder than Princeton and France.)
• France is currently experiencing a baby boom. Once upon a time I knew why - does anyone else remember?
• We are very lucky to have a washing machine, which resides in our kitchen, next to the sink.

• We don't have a dryer, so all of our clothes go on the clothing rack. (This isn't a major cultural difference, since we dried most of our clothes on a rack back home, too.)

• Here's the major cultural difference: sheets get hung on open windows and doors. This gives our apartment an interesting new aesthetic, very laid-back and tropical:

Indigènes

One of the perqs of Maggie's babysitting gigs across the courtyard is that she's allowed to borrow DVDs from her employers. Saturday night, we watched one of those DVDs: Indigènes (2006), an Algerian film directed by Rachid Bouchareb, earned an Oscar nomination for Best Foreign Film and won at Cannes for Best Male Performance. You might recognize one of the stars, Jamel Debbouze, from his role in Le fabuleux destin d'Amélie Poulain (2001).

The film takes place during World War II and follows the Free French African colonial forces as they battle the dual scourges of Nazism and the racism of their white commanders. In certain ways it's the French/Algerian version of Glory, since it draws attention to the sacrifices made by oppressed peoples in the name of the ideals of liberty, fraternity, and equality. But it goes farther than Glory by bringing the moral into the present, revealing that France continued to discriminate publicly against inhabitants of its former colonies. Two months after it came out, the French government changed its position on awarding pensions to colonial veterans of World War II, completing the film's trifecta of success (critical, commercial, and political/social).

You'll have to ask Maggie what she thought, but I give it 3.5 stars.

Belleville "Bread"

Last weekend, Louis and I made bagels. Our first efforts were so surprisingly pleasant and successful that this weekend I decided to try out another uncharted territory, in our house anyway: homemade flour tortillas! (Thanks, Julia, for the inspiration!)

Once again, we were amazed at how simple and tasty these were. Due to an unsuccessful search for black beans in our local Franprix, we decided to create a veggie wrap using the freshly made tortillas; some leftover cucumber, carrot, and zucchini marinated in French-style vinaigrette; and steamy, sticky jasmine rice.

I can't wait to make these again!

But in the meantime, does anyone have good suggestions for what we should make/bake next?

Monopoly

Monopoly
Originally uploaded by kaiserstein

For my birthday this year, my ever-so-thoughtful sister gave me a gift certificate to Amazon.fr - the French version of Amazon.com. This gift was perfect. I waited a few weeks (ok, over a month) before I used the certificate because I wanted to see what we would end up needing/wanting the most here in Paris. I considered several options: a milk foamer/steamer, a new toy for Panda, or perhaps some new jewelry? In the end, I chose something that I think will be useful in the coming months (when we have visitors) as well as when we return to Somerville (and miss Paris). Yesterday, Louis and I christened the brand-new Monopoly game that was purchased from Amazon.fr! (While it is not exactly a "Paris" version of Monopoly, all the properties are named after streets in Paris. Look carefully and you'll see the Boulevard de Belleville card!)

THANKS, EDEN!

To Spit, Or Not To Spit

The day we arrived in Paris, one of the things about our apartment building that surprised me most was the printed sign on the right, posted at the bottom of our stairwell:

It reads, "Forbidden to smoke and to spit in the stairs." I can only assume it's translated into Chinese underneath. (Can anyone confirm?)

The handwritten note on the left is related to an incident Maggie had yesterday afternoon. A neighbor rang the doorbell (the doorbell is becoming a real problem) and when Maggie opened the door to the middle-aged woman, she accused Maggie of having let Panda run around in the stairwell off-leash, and then accused Panda of peeing in the 4th-floor hallway. Maggie protested as best she could, but nothing she could say would convince the woman. Panda, surprised and offended, said nothing. (Becky, who was on the phone with Maggie at the time, is our witness.)

On her way to babysit later in the day, Maggie noticed that someone had posted this note, which reads, "The owner of the dog that peed on the 4th floor is invited to clean up the mess." So delightfully passive. And apparently the French love underlining things in their chastisements/complaints/directions!

This morning, in protest of the woman's groundless accusation and in the spirit of cheeky helpfulness, I added "or cat or child" to the note, since we should suspect dogs, cats, and children equally in the mystery of the 4th-floor pee-spot.

France v. Austria, Part 2

More videos and audio from Wednesday Night:

The game started later than we'd expected, so we stopped in a Quick (France's home-grown fast food chain) for some (un)sustenance. Everything was gross: the high cost of the disgusting food being bought by a surprisingly large (in number, not in physical size) group of people.

Walking to the entrance gate, I was impressed to see these children so brightly attired, and dismayed to realize that the horses the police were riding (I guess for just-in-case crowd control?) were not wearing bags. They won't let Panda in most parks, and they let their horses defecate (chier) over the crowded sidewalks outside the national stadium? Give me a break.

Once inside, we discovered these on our seats:

Folded up, they make the percussive noise you hear amidst everything else here:

The chant you heard goes, "Et ils sont où, et ils sont où, et ils sont où les Autrichiens," which taunts the Austrian fans by asking where their team is (since, with the score at 3-1, they were no longer really in the game).

Everyone not under the awning, it seemed, got flags instead of fans/posters/percussive noise objects:

To be continued tomorrow . . .

France v. Austria, Part I

Wednesday night, my friend Damien and I went to the France-Austria 2010 World Cup Qualifying Match at the Stade de France, just north of the city. In lieu of any long narrative or explanation, I'm just going to post a few batches of video and audio so you can get an idea of what it was like to be at the game.

Outside of the stadium, and Damien

La Marseillaise

"Allez les Bleus," (Go French Soccer Team!) and you'll hear the crowd boo something - except apparently in France they say "wooooo" instead of "boooo." (It's a low "wooo," whereas the high-pitched "woooo" still indicates positive excitement.)

One thing you can't get an idea of is how cold it was! We're in the middle of an early cold snap here, but I hear it's the same at home . . .

One Year Later

On October 12, an important milestone went completely unnoticed by Maggie and me:


The One Year Anniversary of Panda's Arrival!!!!!

In belated celebration, I offer an abridged timeline of events since then.

First, Panda came to us from Georgia via New Hampshire, where we picked her up.

Then, we realized she had/has separation anxiety.

So, we didn't leave her by herself for a really long time (thanks to all the Pandasitters who made this possible!).

But she got better after she went on medication (Prozac!) and after we engaged in intensive training for months and months.

All summer she was great - we could leave her alone for hours and hours and she wouldn't cry or scratch the door.

As a reward, we brought her with us to France - and she relapsed.

But only briefly, and now (that we've upped her meds) she's perfectly happy staying home alone again!

The end.

Oh, also, we really love her and we're so, so happy we adopted her and brought her with us to Paris.

Belleville: Life as Art

The Louvre is overrated. If you want to see real art, come to Belleville.

Of course, no trip to the Louvre that is Belleville would be complete without seeing the most famous work of all:

Best Bagels Ever

Sunday afternoon, Maggie and I did something we never, ever expected to do during our year here:

We made bagels.

Once we stopped craving baguettes, we started craving bagels, and other than the odd, Orthodox-Jewish-owned-and-operated Sushi/Bagel restaurant just around the corner, we haven't seen bagels anywhere. So on a whim, Maggie bought this bagel recipe book, written in French by Marc Grossman, an American expat who owns Bob's Juice Bar in the 10th (just 20 minutes from our apartment!).

This book is INCREDIBLE. Our bagels are DELICIOUS. And as weird as it feels to be eating bagels in Paris, it's still a gesture of assimilation, since the recipe was in French! (cuillière à soupe = tablespoon!)

These bagels were remarkably easy to make, and next time we can throw on whatever toppings or mix-ins we want.  I'm not sure if we'll ever buy bagels again.

Cell Phones

I meant to post about this long ago, but better late than never. A few days into our trip, we invested in cell phones (first time I've ever done that abroad; Maggie had her first cell phone ever during her trimester in Paris in 2003!). We got the cheapest flip phones we could find - 49 euros apiece.

We could have gotten free phones with a contract - and apparently you can break contracts if you can prove you've moved abroad - but contracts started around 20 euros per month, and I was convinced we could spend less than that doing the prepaid thing. Even with what we paid for phones, as long as we buy less than 16 euros of calling time per month, we'll still save money over the calling plan.

I don't know how pre-paid plans work in the US, but with SFR (our provider) you can add anywhere between 1 and 65 euros at a time. The catch is, a 1 to 5-euro purchase is valid for only one week; a six to 10-euro purchase is valid for two weeks; an 11 to 15-euro purchase is valid for 30 days; and I'll stop there because I hope to never purchase that much call time at once. Basically, no roll-over minutes here. I've found that in order to avoid wasting calltime I've already paid for, I end up using more time than you need/want to and buying more time before the week or two weeks or month is up. Very clever, SFR - very clever indeed.

Water is Back On

Hooray!!

Technical Difficulties

No water in our building right now. I say this just in case anyone with the ability to do something about it is reading this. Please? Pretty please?

***UPDATE***

Word on the street is that someone had a plumbing problem and had the water to the whole building shut off as a result. What the . . . !?!?

Dinner Recommendations

Saturday night, we went out for dinner with Louis's cousin Joan and her daughter Ellen, who were in town for Fashion Week (they have a boutique clothing store in Philadelphia). They left it up to us to choose a restaurant, a task we love and hate. Love, because we love discovering new places, and because we love eating! Hate, because there are so, so many great places to choose from, and there's always the danger that we'll choose poorly.

So what did we do?

Luckily, we've received a number of recommendations from people who live or have spent significant time in Paris. (The most thorough list includes the name, address, arrondissement, closest métro stop, telephone number, average menu price, and hours of forty restaurants offering meals around 35 euros; of five starred restaurants; and of four other famous patisseries/chocolateries/glaceries. (Thanks again, Jesse!!) If you're super nice, we might share it with you.)

As if these recommendations weren't enough, we've also found a number of useful blogs and review websites. At the top of the list are http://www.davidlebovitz.com/paris/ and http://chocolateandzucchini.com/ - these people are chefs and food critics who live and work in Paris. Who better to go to for advice on restaurants?

And if we find a restaurant that's not on one of those two websites, we can always look for reviews on the European version of yelp.com, which is called qype.fr. (Both websites look exactly the same, so there's either copyright infringement going on, or they're run by the same people.)

So what did we choose Saturday night? A tiny wine bar called Fish La Boissonnerie (recommended by Jesse) in the 6th, just around the corner from Joan and Ellen's hotel. We actually had their concierge call to get us reservations and found out they had no availability. So when we just happened to walk by a few minutes later, we were pleasantly surprised to find out they had just opened and had a table for us! (Tip: if you go to a restaurant unfashionably early, you have a better chance of getting seated.)

Our meal was delicious! But I'll spare you the details of exactly what we ate - it'll just make you jealous.

Freecycle

You know we like couchsurfing - mostly because we feel like a part of a noble-minded community. For the same reason, we also participate in an activity called "freecycling," which basically means getting stuff from people who don't need it anymore. They don't have to throw the stuff away, and you don't have to buy it new. Or buy it at all - as the name suggests, the freecycling system of exchange precludes monetary transactions. Back in Somerville, I gave away my old bike through Freecycle, and Maggie gave away her old Palm Pilot.

It all works through an email-facilitated message board where people post one of four actions: Offer, Want, Reserved, Given. When we arrived in Paris, we ingratiated ourselves with the Freecycle community here by immediately offering an old digital camera, which was then reserved, and finally given (don't worry mom, we met the recipient in plein soleil on a crowded street). Usually, moderators for any Freecycle community like to see you offer two objects before you can post a "Want" message, and there were lots of things we wanted - a TV, lightbulbs, chairs, a clock.

We got the clock first, not through a "want" post but through someone else's offer. Unfortunately I can't find the "before" picture, but rest assured it was much worse than the after:

(Leather and Plastic Clock in Silver Acrylic Spray-Paint, 2009)

Apparently some woman got this as a wedding present. Yuck. But it does the trick in our living room!

The next item we got was the TV. Not only did we not post a "want" message for the TV, but technically we didn't get it from the Paris Freecycle community. On a walk with Panda one morning, Maggie saw a man putting this TV on the curb. She asked if he was getting rid of it, he said yes, and she carried it three blocks home. The experience exemplified the spirit - if not the letter - of Freecycle, since Maggie saved the TV from a miserable afterlife in a landfill.

(Free Sculpture: Dog Crate, GRE Book, TV, and Clock, 2009)

Unfortunately we haven't been able to watch TV just yet - we need a décodeur (cable box) from Alice, our cable/internet/phone provider, and they're all out. But someday, we'll be able to sit on the couch and watch reruns of American shows from the 1980s (they love MacGyver here). Can't wait!

Language Learning

This is the first time I've been to France where I haven't been spending 90% of my day with native speakers. Or at least, with speaking native speakers - the library is a very "shhhh!!!!" kind of place. I still feel like my language is improving - especially my comprehension (I can now understand people on the phone!) - but the change doesn't feel as drastic as at other times. I find it most difficult to improve my accent, since the older I get, the farther I am from that formative age when accents are still malleable.

This video, a Flight of the Conchords classic, captures how I tend to hear myself, even if it's never quite this bad:

Bringing Your Dog to Paris

Some tips for people thinking about bringing an American dog to Paris:

1. Train your dog to run off-leash in open, un-fenced spaces. There are NO fenced dog parks in Paris. None. Nada. Rien. In other words, your dog should come when called. From what we can tell, Parisian dogs are trained this way from the very beginning, so unless you are bringing a puppy to Paris (who can learn from the locals?), you might want to invest in some off-leash training classes.

2. Train your dog to pee on hard surfaces. There are very, very few grassy spots for Spot to take care of business. Your life will be easier if your dog can pee on the nearest garbage can. I'm not exactly sure how one trains for this... we haven't yet been able to figure it out.

3. Train your dog to ignore pigeons. Pigeons are everywhere here. If your dog likes to stalk pigeons, it will be very difficult to walk down the sidewalk to the nearest non-grassy, non-dog park. Again, this is not something we've had success with.

4. Train your dog to wear a disguise. Well, not really. But if you want to take your dog anywhere that is not within walking distance (and you don't have a car), you will have to sneak him or her onto the Métro. Alas, Parisians seem to ignore this breach of the law much as they do subway panhandlers.

5. Train your dog to be ignored. That is, your dog may be super cute and win the hearts of all passersby back in the States, but this is Paris. Public displays of affection for someone else's dog just don't happen. Unless, of course, you encounter another dog owner. This may afford you a cordial Bonjour, or perhaps just a knowing smile.

When it comes down to it, we're happy that Panda accompanied us on this adventure (if a little stressed every time we let her off-leash and watch her sprint off into the distance). She has forced us outside every single day (and will continue to do so even through what we've been told will be a dreary winter) and sparked conversations with strangers we never would have had otherwise. However, there are aspects of having a dog in Paris that we did not ever consider - hopefully these tips will help others be more fully informed.

Another Synagogue

Tonight, I joined Rachel and Adam on a new adventure: Simchat Torah services at a synagogue only about 10 minutes from here by métro (in the 11th). The synagogue, Communauté Juive Libérale (CJL for short), is an egalitarian "reform" synagogue (reform/"libérale" in France = conservative in the US, or at least that's the sense I get) with a female rabbi and a family-oriented feel. I liked the service there better than the ones I attended at the U.L.I.F., and not only because I wasn't in a convention center amphitheater with 3,700 other Jews. More importantly, I recognized a lot of the tunes this congregation used. That's huge - for me, recognizable music is a key feature (pun intended) of synagogue attendance.

The service tonight was special because it marked the beginning of Simchat Torah, a holiday that celebrates finishing the Torah (five books of Moses) and starting all over again. To mark the occasion, there was all the usual dancing and singing and parading of several Torahs around the room. But then, something extraordinary: the rabbi had all the adults gather in a circle and then un-scrolled the Torah so that the entire text was visible. Each person held a bit of the parchment, and we needed almost the entire space of the sanctuary to accomplish this. Neither Rachel, Adam, nor I had ever seen the Torah in all its handwritten-on-sheepskin-if-you-drop-it-you-have-to-fast-for-forty-days glory. For symbolic purposes, an older member of the congregation read the very last portion, followed promptly by a young member reading the very first portion. Circle of life, children are the future, you get the idea. It was both clever and moving.

Next on the Paris synagogue tour: Kehilat Gesher, another "libérale" Franco-Anglophone congregation that splits its time between the 17th and St.-Germain-en-Laye. I'll keep you posted! (Another bad pun. But I'm not sorry.)

Paris To Do List

Every once in a while, I'll hear about an event through a blog or see an ad for a temporary exhibition while riding the métro, and write it down in the hopes of checking it out. Here are a few of the things I've written down recently:

• Ever since a day trip to Nancy (Lorraine) two years ago, I've been an art nouveau nut. I hope to satisfy my craving for art nouveau glass work by checking out the Tiffany exhibition at the Musée du Luxembourg, just next to the Sénat and the Jardins du Luxembourg. The exhibition showcases the vitraux (stained glass windows) of Louis Comfort Tiffany (1848-1933), son of the guy who started Tiffany & Co. Runs through January 10. 

• Graffiti - social expression, art, visual pollution, whatever you think about it, that's what you think. (True.) If you're interested in seeing a graffiti retrospective, head by the Cartier Foundation, 261 Boulevard Raspail in the 14th. It runs through November 29. If you don't feel like paying to get in, at least stop by to see the graffiti outside the building. 

The building itself is also really cool - one of those inside/outside sort of things. Also, don't miss the slickness of the exhibition website (here and here), which makes me want to go even more than the graffiti I've already seen there, and the recommendation from Invisible Paris.

•  "Islamic Arts: Masterworks of the Khalili Collection" is the title of an exhibition open through November 22 at the Institut du Monde Arabe, which is one of those awesome landmarks/tourist opportunities that very few people know about. (The building, at one end of Boulevard St. Germain in the 5th, has an incredible view of the city center.) The collection includes manuscripts, curtains and tapestries, ceramics and glass, metals and goldwork, jewelry and enamels, panels and stonework, but that's not what made me want to go. Rather, it was the poster that's all over the metro: 

So cool.

•  Last (for now) but definitely not least, there's a ton of great music happening at Opéra Bastille: Puccini's La Bohème (with Natalie Dessay!), Donizetti's L'Elisir d'Amore (with Anna Netrebko! (Tom, eat your heart out)), Korngold's Die Töte Stadt, Rossini's Il Barbiere di Siviglia, and a concert of Korngold's chamber works (who knew??), and that's just this week! I'm hoping to pick up a "passe jeune" which allows youngsters/students to pick up rush tickets for super cheap.

Engrish

Maggie and I have been noticing more and more signs that Engrish* is creeping into French society, despite the best efforts of the Academie Française to weed out any and all vestiges of Anglicism from the French language.

This example is frighteningly close to where we live.

* No, that's not a misspelling. Click on the link. You will not be disappointed.

Sounds of the City

Today I inaugurate a new series on Panda-à-Paris, one that emphasizes the aural over the visual, making it near and dear to my musicologist heart.

I urge you to spend the next few minutes with your eyes closed and your ears open. And earphones on, if your speakers aren't loud enough. For these are the sounds of the city:

Ligne 11, Goncourt to République

(Boulevard St. Michel, arriving at Luxembourg)

Couchsurfers

We didn't intend on hosting any "official" couchsurfers during our stay in Paris, for the simple reason that we were (and still are!) planning on hosting so many "unofficial" couchsurfers - meaning people we already know, friends like Robert, family like Jacob.*

But Maggie got word from a girl she couchsurfed with in Milwaukee that a guy she had met in Lesotho was going to be in Paris and needed a place to stay. Turns out the guy's partner graduated from Carleton a year or two after Maggie.

So on Monday night, we hosted Josh and Phil, and even though we didn't get to spend much time with them, we're happy to have furthered the cause of couchsurfing and to have made some new friends.

We went for the meta, "we're taking a picture of you while you're taking a picture of us" shot.

* For any potential "informal" couchsurfers still planning a visit, we're all booked up between Dec. 22 and January 24.

Through Jacob's Eyes

Here at Panda à Paris we are pleased to showcase the debut of one of today's most promising young artists - a photographer who goes by the name of Jacob.

Jacob visited our apartment this weekend as part of his first world tour. The slideshow below represents his interpretation of our living space. Featuring intimate yet abstract close-ups that dramatize prosaic objects, images that seem to peek into hidden spaces, and playful use of light and color, the series depicts a home that is alternately cozy and austere.

This premiere is presented in conjunction with the celebration of Jacob's 4th birthday tomorrow. Happy Birthday, Jacob!

Reflections on Today

• Based on responses we've gotten from yesterday's post, 5 out of 5 readers think we got scammed. One person gave the guy credit for his set-up, two suggested we ask the guardienne what the deal was, and three mentioned the normal solicitation that happens around Christmas, when donations for the postman or fireman are rewarded with calendars. Can't wait.
• In unrelated news, this afternoon I ventured over to the main BnF location for the first time this trip. I was looking for issues 7 and 8 of a particular journal; they had issues 1-6 and 9. Makes me miss the Eda Kuhn Loeb Music Library, where 90% of everything you need can be found in open stacks, and where materials aren't split between two locations several miles apart. (The BN Département de la Musique, Rue Louvois, has all the archival materials, a few pianos, and lots of books. The Bibliothèque François Mitterand, Salle P (Audiovisuel) has all the recordings, many scores, and lots more books.) 
• While at the library, I noticed that both of the other people at my table were wearing ear plugs. This is inexcusable. It's already a library - how much quieter can it get!? Or maybe it was my incessant tapping that drove them to stuff their ears with rubber. 
• While in transit between the Music Library and the Bibliothèque François Mitterand, I stumbled upon what I think is Paris' "Little Japan," or "Japantown" or what have you. More on that later.
• It rained today. First daytime rain since the day we got here. Feels like winter already!

The Trash Man Cometh

Something weird happened tonight. We were in the middle of making dinner when the doorbell rang. Excited as always that someone actually wants to see us, I ran to open it. There's some guy I've never seen, talking about our trashcan. It took a while, but eventually I realized that he's taking up a collection for our neighborhood balayeurs and éboueurs (new vocab! roadsweepers and garbagemen). It helped that he pulled out a wad of cash and showed me this receipt book with a bunch of stubs from torn off receipts.

Exhibit A

He said they do this once a year, and I apologized for not having understood sooner, but admitted that we had just moved in, so this was all new to us. At the time, I figured that if he had made it into the building, he must have gotten "official" approval from someone - la guardienne, someone else in the building. So I pulled out a 10-spot and handed it to him. He said, "This isn't enough." Which is weird - if you're taking donations, shouldn't anything be enough? I asked how much people usually give. "50." Unfortunately (for him, not for me), I only had the 10 on me. So I said I could mail him 50 (thinking I'd consult with the neighbors first), and asked for the 10 back. "No, this is fine," he said, and handed me the receipt you see above. No mailing address. Just a few stamps and a typically French signature.

We were surprised and confused enough to look into tipping your garbagemen, and found nothing. (The closest we found was this explanation of situations in which you should tip in France.) Can anyone tell us whether this was legit? Or did we just get scammed?

Nuit Blanche

If you're reading this before 7 AM Paris time on Sunday, October 4th, quick! Get on the 11 or 14 metro (open all night) and enjoy what's left of Nuit Blanche, an all-night party in the Parc de Buttes Chaumont, the Marais, and the Latin Quarter!

Maggie, Sandi, Jacob, Panda, and I saw the preparations for this nighttime celebration of contemporary art during our walk (or leap) in the Parc de Buttes Chaumont yesterday. This evening, Jacob, Panda, and our new friends Adam and Rachel (thanks for the hook-up, Talya!) enjoyed the fruit of all that labor on another long walk through the park. (Maggie, alas, had a babysitting gig across the courtyard, and couldn't make it.) The park was packed, and the art was awesome.

Before

After

Before

After

Before

After (sorry for the terrible photography)

Golden Slumbers Fill Your Eyes . . .