Manifestations Place du Palais Royal

We saw our share of demonstrations, street art, and public theater in Paris. But only once did I see politically-motivated Aquascript (TM).

On the occasion of la Journée Mondiale de l'Eau (World Water Day), April 12, 2010, basic-needs NGO Solidarité International sponsored an art installation that used carefully timed droplets of water to depict bombs and form words saying things like, "I am the leading cause of death, more than . . ." and the same thing in French. I didn't get shots of all the words, but I did get a few of the bombs and a skull-and-crossbones. Sorry it's all backwards - I caught this while still mounted on a Vélib' on my way to the library.

Pretty nifty, eh? You can see a video if the set-up and full execution of the installation at Aquascript's website (see above).

The Place du Palais Royal's placement across from an entrance to the Louvre makes it one of the most central, most visible public spaces in the city. As such, there are new demonstrations, art installations, and events almost every week. It's a spot that's worth passing by often, and once you're there, plan on making like this Aquascript installation - just go with the flow.

Should We Stay Or Should We Go?

One sign it may be time to leave Paris: in the Parc des Buttes Chaumont today, we saw a mom encouraging her child to poop on the grass next to some bushes. She did not heed the message of the signs placed all over the city.

This is much, much more disgusting than the several times we've witnessed parents educating their children in the joys and conveniences of public urination. Just gross.

On the other hand, we've had 5 days of gorgeous weather, which is helping us remember why we fell in love with Paris in the first place. There are things you do in fine weather that beat all the museums, tea rooms, and restaurants in Paris. Yesterday, for instance, we indulged in a cherished summertime ritual: savoring a cone of Berthillon glace on the banks of the Seine.

(The Paris) Life is good. Maybe we'll stick around after all.

Propreté de Paris on Parade

On our way to the May Day festivities, we noticed five "Propreté de Paris" vehicles all lined up in a pretty, green row.

And at the end of the row, all the drivers, waiting to do their thing.

They were preparing to clean up just as soon as tens of thousands of protesters/revelers vacated the Place de la République. I hope all those critics of the government appreciated that, as usual, the government was cleaning up their mess.

Does anyone else get the impression that the same manufacturer provides Paris with its public sanitation and fire vehicles?

Water Heater Musings

So, remember our water heater? It hangs from the ceiling in the kitchen. It's electric, and it doesn't have temperature control.

See the little green light? That means it's all heated up. When the light turns orange, it means it's in the process of heating. If the light is orange, we know not to run the electric kettle, the stove, and/or the oven, because the combination will (and frequently does) blow the fuse.

I like the little sticker next to the green light. It tells you what to do if something bad happens.

No light equals sad face. Telephone arrow fat guy with wrench! 

Several people (notably our landlord and the people who rented this apartment last year) have suggested that we can save energy (and save on our energy bill) by turning the hot water heater off during the day (when electricity is more expensive) and turn it back on at night. The tank holds enough hot water to allow for our showers and dishwashing, so there's no problem there.

The problem, as Maggie discovered with a little online research, is that shutting off electric water heaters lowers the tank's water temperature enough to encourage the proliferation of a bacteria called Legionella, which can cause Legionnaire's Disease. (Heaters using fossil-fuels are not at risk, for whatever reason.) Legionnella mostly seems prevalent in non-municipal water systems, and can only be eradicated if the tank temperature is set to 140 degrees Fahrenheit or higher. This creates another problem, since 140 degrees can scald pretty badly. Our water is certainly municipal, and Legionella seems mostly to affect those with already-compromised immune systems. So it's hard to tell just how seriously dangerous it is to turn off our water heater.

For now, au cas où (just in case), we're keeping the water heater on. But we'd love to hear from anyone who has experience with this kind of thing, or happens to know anything about the issue.

Hard Water

I'm always one to defend municipal water. Coming from NJ, there has always been much to defend. It's cheap, it's good for you, it doesn't waste plastic and you're already paying for it with tax dollars, so why throw away a few bucks (or worse, euros) on a bottle of "mineral" water? But this isn't about my distaste for bottled water, which is shared by many. This is about an indefensible aspect of water here in Paris: too much calcium.

Consider our average cup of tea. Notice the cracked "surface," the gunk accumulating on the sides of the mug. Both are indications of hard water, which usually means too much calcium or magnesium. It's not unhealthy, just kind of gross looking. It also means that soap doesn't easily lather, and that soap scum easily forms. Our water may not be hard enough to cause frequent soap scum, but what you see above is pretty normal for hot tea, and calcium is clearly building up on the shower doors.

Thank goodness they sell "anti-calcifying" solution in the stores here (a clear sign other people have the same problem). Also, it turns out you can run a solution of 1-part distilled vinegar, 1-part water through whatever appliances/dishes need cleaning, et voilà! Problem solved.

Still, it'd be better not to have to deal with hard water at all. And that's one reason we'll be glad to get back to Boston, which has (along with the rest of the Northeast) some of the softest water in the country.

High Humidity

Paris is an incredibly humid place, as we've mentioned before. With the colder temperatures we experienced last week, not to mention the presence of visitors, it's been harder to open windows and air the place out. The result? Condensation! Moisture! MOLD!!!

What our bedroom window looks like most mornings. Yes, that is all on the inside.

On rare days, there's so much water on the window that it actually runs down to the floor in tiny rivulets . . .

We discovered some mold growing on the window last week, and swiftly cleaned it off. No respiratory ailments here, please!

The basic problem is one of circulation; there is none in this apartment. That's why we need to alternate opening windows in each room for a little bit every day. That's also why it's good to keep a fan running sometimes, even though it makes it feel colder. Finally, that's why we invested in a déshumidificateur (dehumidifier), which manages to keep water off the windows, but only if it runs all night.

This little guy can only dehumidify 17 square meters at a time, so unless we empty it once over the course of the night, it fills up after running 5 or 6 hours.

Thanks, trusty déshumidificateur! Here's looking forward to spring!

Cold Snap

As Maggie mentioned, we're in our first cold snap of the winter. By Boston standards, it isn't much: highs in the low 30s, at night it gets down into the low 20s, and if we're lucky we might even see some snow showers.

It turns out, though, that a difference of 10 degrees (the winter average high for Paris is about 44) is both seen and felt in Paris. For instance, those gutter gushers seem to have been turned off. Finally! It makes sense: this morning, on my way back from walking Panda in the park, I saw the frozen trickle of one that had been left on a little too long. I even stopped to take a picture (imagine Panda straining at the far end of the leash, me trying to hold the camera steady with one hand, both of us shaking from the cold). Unfortunately the picture didn't look great, but it inspired some conversation - a woman standing a few feet away asked why I had taken a picture, and I got to rant (live! in French!) about the city's wasteful street-cleaning techniques. I pointed out that they have to turn off the spigots when it goes below freezing because otherwise there'd be ice everywhere, and the spigots would probably break. The woman admitted she'd never thought about any of it before, and I walked away proud that I'd helped her see the light.

We notice the temperature difference in our apartment, especially, since we've finally been forced to turn the heaters on. No, that wasn't a typo - each room has a separate thermostat that runs a single electric radiator, which doesn't quite warm a whole room like baseboard heating, and especially not like central air heating. Oh well - it's not like it's going to be like this all winter. Forecast for Christmas: high of 48. Balmy!

Water Conservation, or a lack thereof

You know what really grinds my gears? Street cleaning. In Somerville, I hated street cleaning because it was clearly just a racket to raise revenue for the city - and because I never felt  like the streets were really all that clean.

In Paris, I hate street cleaning because it seems like a colossal waste of natural resources and manpower. Now, it's weird to associate Paris with "colossal waste of natural resources" when the double-flush toilet is standard.

Press the right half for small flushes, the left half for larger flushes. They just started installing these as "energy/water saving" devices at Harvard, but they've had them in Europe since right after the Bubonic Plague.

Also, our water heater is in our kitchen, it's fairly small, and the water only has to travel about 10 feet to get to the shower, two sinks, and the washing machine.

Efficient!

But otherwise, it seems like Paris wastes ridiculous amounts of water in what seems to be an inefficient effort to clean the streets. Waste Type #1: Flushing the gutters.

All around the city, spigots in the curb expel as much water as they can into the gutter. The spigots appear to be on timers such that wherever you go, one is always gushing. Daytime, nighttime, clear weather, heavy rain - it doesn't matter.

Frequently, a gross piece of old carpet or a rolled up item of clothing is strategically placed to direct the flow of water. Let me stress how gross this looks - they're trying to clean the streets, and they're making them grosser. Gross.

The water flows down the street, past the balayeur's pushcart. It's the balayeur's job to sweep up (balayer) objects caught in the stream, ostensibly so they don't reach a drain and clog the city's pipes. Note: with the exception of that one time at our door, the balayeur is usually nowhere to be seen. This means that the water does not need to be flowing. Turn off the water!!!

This is what the balayeurs look like. This is also what the stream of water looks like entering a drain - which seems to be clogging nicely with the bits of trash that the stream is supposed to remove from the street, and that the balayeurs are supposed to remove from the stream. I'm confused.

Waste Type #2: Sidewalk Powerwashing.

Similar to the metal thingies that hold the spigots that gush water everywhere, there are other metal thingies in the sidewalk - just next to the curb - that also gush water. Technically, they're the refill spots for the little trucks that carry the water that's used to powerwash the sidewalks. (Sounds like Chad Gadya, right?)

Unfortunately, I don't have a picture of one of those refill spigots leaking, but trust me, they leak. Frequently. And when they're not leaking, they're spurting everywhere, kind of like this hose that Panda tried to plug:

As Obama is fond of saying, let me be clear. I like clean sidewalks. I like people whose job it is to clean sidewalks. I do not like stepping in poop. Sometimes, I can tell that a good powerwashing has removed poop from the sidewalk. But it seems like most water is not being used to clean stuff. And maybe they have more water here than they know what to do with, but I would hope they'd figure out how to use all that water in a more productive manner. Mini-hydroelectric plants in the gutters, anyone?

For the record, Panda is also anti-wasting water. Right, Panda?

In Bruges Part II

Just after arriving in Bruges, our couchsurfing host, Tom, took us on a three-hour tour. [♫A three-hour tour!♫] We crossed and re-crossed the canals that make this picturesque city the "Venice of the North" (along with Strasbourg and Amsterdam, which share that title). Now, the only boats you see are those shuttling tourists around the various sites.

Tom, a history and Dutch teacher, took us to places most tourists don't see and shared wonderfully obscure (but totally relevant) factoids. One of my favorites:

Just above the entrance to the skinniest building in Bruges (left of center) you'll see the following figurines.

It's a little hard to tell from the picture, but they're stevedores, and they're carrying the building just as they'd normally carry goods from the ships that docked in Bruges' canals when the city was the largest port in the world, in the 15th century. The figurines denote the building's role as headquarters for the stevedores' guild, which was a kind of nascent union/lobbying group looking out for the stevedores' financial interests. Neat, huh?

The only thing Tom couldn't explain was the architectural predilection in Bruges for terraced roof facades. Any ideas?

Thanks, Tom, for the great tour and for your wonderful hospitality!