Grande Mosquée de Paris

We visited the Grande Mosquée de Paris last Saturday. Except we didn't actually visit the mosque; we instead enjoyed thé à la menthe in one of its peaceful courtyards with Louis' colleague Hannah (visiting her sister this week) and her sister, Becca (studying in Paris for the semester).

If you go to the Grande Mosquée for tea, you will enjoy a sweet, hot beverage that warms you in the winter and refreshes you in the summer. A nice gentleman will pass through the courtyard with a tray-full of glasses like those you see below. Wave the man over (it may take several tries - he may be busy shooing away the pigeons), ask for one glass (or two), and hand over two euros per glass. Pastries must be ordered indoors. 

In poor weather, you might want to head inside to the vrai salon de thé where you can enjoy even more vivid decor and a more bustling scene. 

Panda didn't join us on this expedition but we're always scoping out future dog-friendly outings. From what we can tell, you can bring your dog to the Grand Mosquée as long as you take your tea in the entrance courtyard. But they made it very clear: no Cocker Spaniels or terriers allowed inside. 

Rehearsal Excitement

So as Maggie recently reported, I'm getting ready to perform in a few concerts in May, and yesterday I had a rehearsal/coaching session at the apartment of the piano teacher of our group's pianist. This teacher, Noël Lee, happens to be an American composer and concert pianist who's been living in Paris for more than 50 years, so it's always a pleasure and an honor to play for him.

As you'll hear in the clip below, we were in the middle of working on a section when I saw something strange through the window. (I've taken the liberty of amplifying the sound around 30 seconds in so you can hear the conversation better.)

Here's a little transcript of the beginning, showing just how much work my French still needs.

Me: Il y a un mec qui a, qui vient de . . . comment tu dis . . . he just climbed in the window over there
Noël: What?
Me: There's a guy who just climbed in the window. Il a . . . [Noël: Where?] grimpé, il a grimpé dans la fenêtre, juste en face . . .

There were two problems with my observation. First, no one quite believed me, since how crazy is it that someone would just climb in the window of a 2nd-floor apartment across the street? And second, I kept saying "greeempay" when I should have been saying "grampay" (as Noël quietly acknowledges around 1:07), so it's possible Dominique (my accompanist) didn't understand.

We all kind of laughed about it at the time - you can hear Noël say, "well, bravo!" at the end, and just after that, he wonders if maybe the guy just lost his keys. But today I got an email from Noël proving that what I saw was no laughing matter:

You might be interested to learn that the man you saw yesterday climb the building opposite was a thief; he got away with money, restaurant tickets, and such and left by the same route, but I guess you didn't see him go down.   My neighbor who lives underneath told me this morning.  If you have any details about what he looked like, let me know.

Oops. All I remember is that he was wearing a white jacket, he was skinny, and he had dark hair. That describes about a quarter of the guys in this city, so it probably won't be very helpful.

The rehearsal, on the other hand, was very helpful. Dominique and I are making good progress on a piece we're playing for fun, rather than for either of the concerts in May. Just in case you're curious, it's the Sonata for Clarinet and Piano in F minor, Opus 120 No. 1 by Johannes Brahms, and so far we've gotten through the first and second movements. Below is a somewhat choppy cut-and-paste from our rehearsal/coaching yesterday so you can get an idea of what the two movements sound like.