So...How's the Weather?

The last few days have been incredibly warm and humid. It's the kind of weather where you have to change your shirt after lunch, and again before dinner. It almost reminds me of a New Orleans summer, but without the roaches. It seems the french do not believe in air conditioning (something about some king dying from a draft? Damn that royalty!), so I'm sleeping with my windows and door open to create a cross-breeze (not a good thing, since a nun walked in on me while I was sleeping inmodestly dressed. She just kept saying "desolee, desolee" as she ran down the hallway). Anyway, it's not really working, so I've just been staying up reading with my feet out the window.

Surprisingly, I still see people on the street wearing long sleeve shirts and sweaters. And I'm not sure how the nuns are surviving with their habits and all.

Right now, it's 1:00 am and it feels like there's a storm coming. Lightining's been flashing and there's some thunder. It's pretty cool. I miss thunderstorms since we never get them in San Francisco and I hope it starts raining soon so things cool down a little. Well, at least until I go lay out at Paris Plage. Bring on the Bain de Soleil!

My Classmates

So I was all James Bond (or at least Secret Squirrel), and took pictures of my classmates during one of our sessions. The quality is so-so, but you should consider the composition artsy rather than crappy, after all , I was shooting from under the table. A few people were missing this day (mainly Venus, Tien Chien, and Marit- we'll catch them later) but here's a short breakdown:

In this picture we have (l-r):
Barbara- you may remember her as she-of-the-bleeding-foot. She's Polish, very nice, but slightly bizarre and built like Macy Gray. She also calls me "Carol". Last time I tried to correct her she tried to give me a pastry from her pocket, so Carol it is. Next to her is
Mansoor- He's one of the biologists.

(l-r) Jian Nam- from Taiwan. I think he has a crush on Carole, the teacher. He's in Paris for 4 years to study finance.
Chazanfar- The other biologist. His french is really good. Bastard!
Sara- Tien Chien thinks she looks like Amy Winehouse. She's from Tel-Aviv and is here studying robotics.
Chamek- from Poland. Studies publicity and smiles a lot. Has very spiky hair.
Vashik- Jian's main competition for Carols's attention. He can smoke four cigarrettes during our 15-minute break period.

(l-r) Cecile and Anne- Religious ladies from Vietnam. They think I'm the devil (hee hee) and are trying to form an alliance with Barbara to "save" the rest of the class. They're really annoying in that Cecile is forever answering questions not addressed to her and Anne riffles through people's things to see what kind of grades they got. Neither has ever fought with a sibling, been upset at a friend, or had a bad thought. I know this because I got stuck with them on a group project to discuss these things, and the whole thing was really boring and holy.

Elizabeth- She's from the US and has been having a good time. She's staying with a family near the Champs Elysse.

Carole Visconti- our professor. She's totally cute and really makes the class fun. Though everytime I use "en" instead of "aux", I can see her wanting to peg me with a piece of chalk. She's got a good sense of humor though. She caught me skipping class last Friday with Don, and pretty much cracked-up at the fact that she saw me. Still, next day she told the whole class that I had been playing hooky. Hmmph.

Bonus Intro Picture

Don's impression of Dr. Blair

Today's Introduction- 7/30

This Dr. Blair. He's the one responsible for organizing the french program. He's a man of great talent, not only because of his french language skills, but also because he can walk faster than anyone else with pants that are hitched so amazingly high that it can't possibly be healthy. He's a master of organization and is obsessed with the dangers of pickpockets, gypsies, and rogue firecrackers burning someone's face. And of debonair french men on the metro seducing the young innocent american students under his care. He makes the girls practice a "metro face", which is basically looking as if they smell a stinky surprise everytime they ride the train. Bonjour Dr. Blair!

The Paris Hilton of Ice Creams

...And On the Way Home...

After a lovely falafel meal by the Seine, I walked Juli back to the hotel to pick up her bags and then to the metro. Awww, it was really nice to see her.

After I dropped her off, I got a call from Gina. She and Sunny had just gotten out of mass at St. Severin and they were going to have dinner at a place called Bistro 30, would I like to join them? But of course, I'd be delighted to (or alternately,"food?...ummm...yeah!").

As I was reaching the Hotel de Ville plaza to go to Rue St. Severin, I had another one of those moments that make you stop and catch your breath. They were having an outdoor concert at the Hotel and a vocal choir had just started singing a truly beautiful rendition of "Song of Joy". It was just wonderful. If I smoked I would have lit up a cigarette (or something).

I met up with Sunny and Gina, and had a great time at dinner. Purely because of the conversation, as the food was slightly sub-par. However, writing about dinner gives me the necessary excuse to post pictures of the giant bottle of ketchup that Gina got for her fries and of the only good thing I ate: a delicious appetizer of escargot.

Falafarama

We made it to the Ile St. Louis and chose Amorino as the frozen treat of the moment. They're Berthillon's big competitor and really delicious. They also shape their ice cream cones to look like flowers, and like Juli said, sometimes presentation is everything (Amorino pics to come).

We continued on to the Marais. We had been wanting falafel since the day before, Saturday, but all the falafel joints had been closed for the sabbath. Now they were super packed. We queued up to L'As Du Fafalel, which Juli had read was one of the best one, and waited for one of the order takers to come by. The order takers were hilarious, they looked like total New Jersey guidos, but with yarmulkes. You basically give them your 5E, they give you a slip, wait your turn to get to the window, and then trade your slip for a falafel (with or without spicy sauce).

Weird thing was the illustration on the glass above the window. The resturant mascot seems to be a smiling, but slightly deranged, falafel, He has onion eyes, olive pupils, a tomato nose, and a tahini smile, with what looks like a pepper for teeth. It was a little too anthropomorphic for my taste, like maybe he would bite you back with his spicy pepper teeth when you tried to eat him.

But I don't like to be intimidated by food (unless it's three months old and comes out of my grandma's freezer), so I overcame the ickiness, wrapped that little sucker up and we walked to the Seine to eat. I showed that falafel who was boss. And it was, indeed, crazy delicious.

Under the Bridges On the Way to Ice Cream

The Louvre Redux: Mona Lisa's Revenge

Sunday morning I went to pick up Juli to start our Sunday. The plan: walk to the Louvre, see the Mona Lisa, walk along the Tuilirie Gardens, and back along the Seine to the Marais for falafel.

So we walked along the Siene and stopped for a bit to look at the preparations for Paris Plage. The workers were setting up the cabanas, and there was already astroturf and sand on some sections. as well as babyfoot tables and exercise equipment. The whole thing sounds strange, but cool, and I'm looking forward to seeing how it turns out.

We got to the Louvre and avoided the lines outside of the pyramid by getting our tickets and going in through the mall. Then we headed straight to the Mona Lisa. But even though it was early, the gallery was still really crowded. So we had to fight our way through the crowd to get close enough to take pictures. (It always surprises me how small the actual painting is. Just like it surprised me to see how big "The Raft of the Medusa" actually was). We jostled through an army of spanish tourists, who for some reason refused to move on their own, and goal achieved, we moved on for a quick jaunt through French Painting. The museum is just so big that it's better to take it in small doses.

From the Louvre we walked through the gardens to the Orangerie, then crossed over to walk on the quais. The weather was so warm that we decided to detour to Ile St. Louis for some ice cream before hitting the falafels.

Later That Night...

Diego had mentioned that Qing was working in London this week and might be coming to Paris for the weekend, so when I got his text I made plans to meet him in the Marais so we could go to dinner. (While I was waiting I saw Patrice walk by. It was weird thinking I'd only been here three weeks and I was recognizing people in the street).

We picked up Juli from her hotel and ended up at Les Philosophes for dinner. It was really muggy out and we got to the restaurant in time to grab an outside table and enjoy a nice leasurely dinner of steak tartare and tomato tatin.

Juli had walked all the way to her hotel from Montmartre, so she decided to call it a night and headed home to relax. Qing and I went to a couple of bars and then ended up in line for Les Bain Douches with some obnoxious nightclub-rag publisher who kept saying how much it sucked inside. I hate waiting in lines, so everytime he complained I asked him why we were there if it sucked so much oh mighty nightclub entrepreneur. He just kept doing the vague french "ehmmm".

The line went quickly however, and the music was pretty okay, though it was really hot in there for something named after a shower. I was there for a couple of hours and then took off after I leaned into a wall and got some chewing gum stuck on my red jeans. Tres gross! The walk home, however, was lovely. The weather was warm, the streets were empty, and the river looked amazing.

Program Interruption: Mime Update

There just happened to be a mime at Sacre Coeur, but unfortunately he was frolicking around on some column and was to high up to catch. It was for the best, I shouldn't be trying to punch mimes in front of churches no matter how annoying or scary they are. And I don't want to end up in the french equivalent of mexican jail where all they feed you is l'eau and stale bagettes.

OK..now to find an accordionist and a street chanteuse

I met Juli at 10:30 at the St. Placide Metro exit, and I dragged Gina and Don with me. We all wanted to eat first, so we headed to Creperie du Clown by the St. Sulpice Church, which Gina had read about in the Rick Steve's Paris book. It didn't open until noon, so we went to grab coffee and croissants, and did a little shopping while we waited.

Creperie du Clown wasn't as scary as it sounded, with mercifully little clown and circus paraphernalia. And the waitress wasn't wearing clown make-up or walking on stilts or anything. All the crepes had circus names though, and I ended up with a lion tamer crepe, which was pretty much a hamburger on a crepe with an egg on top instead of in a bun. I love fusion cooking, but I'm not sure if I trust this Rick Steve fellow.
July is the monthe for soldes (or sales for you gringos), so Juli wanted to check out the Bon Marche. "Bon Marche" means "good prices" in french, though Sister Marie-Joseph said it wasn't that "Bon" or "Marche" anymore, and they were having some good sales. It's also the only department store on the Left Bank, and a little old fashioned in the sense that they still have a toy section and a bookstore along with the St. Laurent and Chanel.

From there we headed to Montmartre to Sacre Coeur. We took a different metro line than the one I took last year with my sister. This one left us closer and with less stairs to climb, but the trade-off was that it was a heavy tourist area and we had to fight our way through the crowd to make it up the hill. Gina even got accosted by a street vendor who kept telling her "Be nice, I'm from Africa" while he was trying to sell her a bracelet. She was like "What?"

After visiting the church, we walked a little around Abbesses, which is really pretty and more like a neighborhood than our area. It's also the part of Montmartre were they filmed some of Amelie. There were lots of cobblestone roads, stairways, and a few gardens where you could actually step on the grass.

Nobody wants an angry nun, and, as we had forgotten to sign out for dinner, Don, Gina and I headed back to the dorm and I made plans with Juli to meet her later for second-dinner. Some things don't change.

Juli

Juli, my friend from London came for the weekend to visit and it was great to see her.

I took the metro to the Gare du Nord to meet her Eurostar, and man things have changed. It was nothing like I remembered. Granted I hadn't been to there since my first trip to Paris almost 20 years ago, and that time I also got lost and ended up in a street full of hookers, but still. After about 15 minutes of wandering about I finally saw the arrows that led to the gate, and after going through 3 gates and two flights of stairs I found her. Embarrassingly late as I was, she was polite enough not to mention it too much. Hee hee.

We took the RER to her hotel in the Marais, which was probably narrowest hotel I've ever seen. We hardly even fit in the elevator with her bags. But her room was adorable, and it was located on a street called Rue de Bourg Tibourg, which Juli said sounded like something the Swedish Chef would say.

We pretty much took it easy the rest of the night so we could get an early-ish start the next day. We just went for kirs and then had burgers (delicious french burgers no less) at a restaurant called Le Gars Au Cuisine. I also had a really good strawberries with fromage blanc and balsamic vinegar, and ate a large protion of Juli's creme brulee trio.

Today's Introduction- 7/22

This is Sunny. She's from Redlands in Southern California and is a professor of lingusitics. She's a very lovely person, like a zen cheerleader. She pretty much smiles at everything, but you can tell by her eyes when she's confused or thinking "what the hell?", and her demeanor encourages Gina not want to say obscene things around her. Also makes everyone want to sing that song "Sunny" by Boney M. Bonjour Sunny!

We're #1!!!

Jason just informed me that if you do a Google search for "nuns" and "WiFi", my site is the first one to pop up. I would like to thank the nuns, the WiFi and everyone who's been reading for making this historic moment possible!!! (and Jason...who actually checked. Jeez).

Super Hyper Study

For you non-believers, here is actual photographic, non-staged evidence that I'm actually here to study and not just to eat croissants and buy stripey shirts.

Here I am in the convent's library along with Sunny, Don, Gina (taking pic), and a substatial supply of cookies and Orangina, studying the evil passe compose and the dastardly imparfait, along with the annoying "pendant", "il y a", "pour", and "depuis".

The rules of grammar are supposed to be very definite and concrete, but as soon as you have a handle on it, they throw the exceptions at you. And why are things so theoretical and vague? Le Bastards!

But I have been learning a lot and getting a good solid base to build on. For example, I don't use "plus" as much anymore and have learned that only yokels call fries "pommes frites". Though embarrassingly enough, my favorite new expression is "super hyper" (pronunciation: super heeper) as in "l'eclair is super hyper delicieux" and "les chemises stripey sont super hyper cool!".

Water Everywhere

So this is the standard Parisian drinking fountain. They can be found pretty much in every neighborhood, and they always have a ready and steady flowing stream of potable water. They look pretty cool. People just reach between the ladies and use their hands for sips, or just fill up their water bottles.

I still haven't tried one yet, since I have a thing about drinking random street water. But then, I haven't seen anyone drop dead after drinking from one. And we've been assured numerous times, and by nuns, that it's totally safe to drink the tap water. I just keep thinking that some homeless french person is washing his feet in them at night or something, which is a stupid thought since they'd have to be really limber and do the splits to reach.

No Woman No Cry

Sunday nights are pretty dead, and having done my homework, I was more than happy to go with Don for one of our walks. And anyway, the catacombs had left a little wanting fresh air. lol

As it always happens, we headed to the river and saw the usual pack of people hanging out on the bridge. So we decided to grab a bottle of wine and become one with the Paris slackers. We crossed the bridge and spent a good 45 minutes looking for an open momoprix or fanprix or any prix, but no luck. I'm not sure what the french do if the have an emergency. What if they run out of toilet paper or you really, really want a rotisserie chicken at 11pm? Hey, it happens.

Then I remembered that there was a little store by Patrice's house, so we darted over and got a bottle of wine. The counter guy was nice enough to open it for us (FYI #1 the french word for "corkscrew" is "le corkscrew". FYI #2 the store had toilet paper, but no chicken.) and armed with the bottle and a pack of crackers, we worked our way back to the bridge.

By this time it was pretty full, but we found a nice spot surrounded by three different guys playing guitar. Now, for some bizarre gallic reason, everywhere there's a french guy, or gal, with a guitar, they're playing BobMarley. One of the guys was playing "Sounds of Silence", but he eventually got drowned out by the two others who were having dueling "no Woman No Cry"s.

Now, it could have been really annoying, especially since neither of the guys knew more than the chorus. But surprisingly, hearing two guys sing "no woman no cry/no woman no cry/ no woman no cry..." for an hour was really very amusing. Though that could have been because of the wine. Hmmm.

In the Catacombs

The catacombs of Paris are totally trippy. after paying the entry fee, I was expecting maybe a lenghty presentation followed by a viewing of a wall covered in skulls, or just a long tunnel with some random bones here and there.

What was really in the tunnels was just plain weird. First, you head straight down a carved stone spiral staircase that's so narrow I started getting dizzy halfway down. I almost fell on top of Palina and Gina (maybe that's how they add extra bones- the dead people who land at the the bottom of the stairs). Then, you walk what seems like half-a-mile through a series of moist tunnels that are surprisingly cool thanks to a carved-in air system. Afterwards, you reach the strangely-boring-for-being-underground "educational" area with the posters and maps and all.

But then you turn a corner and...ta-daa...bones! bones! bones!

Bones everywhere. In all sorts of formations. I though they had just dumped the bones from various cemetaries in the catacombs, but the workers must have gotten bored at some point and started exploring their creativity.

The bones are stacked in various patterns: rows and rows of what seemed like femurs followed by a row of skulls staring out into the dark, or skulls placed around the wall of bones to form crosses or arrows. There are hallways and chambers filled to the top with walls of bones, and even an altar from when they used to hold mass for the workers. Every chamber also has a plaque noting what cemetary the bones came from.

Entrance to one of the chambers: "Stop, here is the empire of death". Fun!

Gina and Palina going down to the catacombs, oblivious that I almost fell on them.

A column made of, surprise, skulls and other sundry bones.

Random collection of bones. The strange thing is that we didn't see any hand bones or vertebrae. Maybe they keep them in special rooms.

Another lovely bone arrangement.

Some additional things of note: 1) The part that the public sees is only a fraction of the actual catacombs 2) Like mentioned in the pic, who knows where the rest of the bones went to or why they separated them, but there were no feet, hands, pelvises, etc. and 3) There was some white-ish water dripping from the ceiling, which grossed us out and was referred from then on as "skull water".