Do you think this could be true? Then atleast there'd be a reason for the freezing anger from the sky. As I type this, the sun shines. Never believe it though. It just waits for the people to go outside without umbrellas!
Today Jan 31
Rain / Snow
Showers / Wind
42°/39°
70%
42°F
Check Flight Delays
Thursday, January 31, 2008
Wednesday, January 30, 2008
A few more strikes...
So last Thursday, teachers went on strike. One of my schools shut. The other two only had a few teachers out. Apparently the school docks their pay; it can't count as a personal absence.
Today, it's the Taxi Drivers of Paris who are on strike.
It really is the national pastime.
Today, it's the Taxi Drivers of Paris who are on strike.
It really is the national pastime.
Tuesday, January 29, 2008
Dublin
My grandma reminded me this weekend (an rightly so!) that no stories from Dublin and London had been posted. It's been nearly a month since my trip there. Yikes. I apologize if any of you were holding your breath. Exhale!
Imagine what it feels like to suddenly be in an English-speaking nation after 3 months of misunderstandings. When our plane touched down in Dublin (from Berlin), it was the most incredible thing. Ordering a sandwich presented no problem! Paying the correct amount of money for the sandwich was easy! Figuring out which bus went to our hotel--piece of cake. Except that they speak Gaelic, too. As evidenced by one of our TV channels and signs throughout the city. (Like this one!)
Funny thing was asking an Irish person a question. Sometimes this would lead to a furrowing and a quizzical "What?". As if MY accent was strange.
Our first morning there, we were walking to the store to buy provisions (granola bars, hobnobs and face wash)... when all of a sudden, on a quiet, residential street, an old, plaid-clad gentleman came bicycling down the hill towards us calling "Happy New Year, girls!" And that moment basically sold me on the whole country.
The highlights of fair Dublin included the seeing ancient Christian manuscripts at Chester Beatty Library and the Book of Kells at Trinity College. They have gorgeous, intricately-illuminated texts from 30 AD to the 1600s. We saw an incredible Polish Art exhibit at the National Gallery. You're probably thinking Polish Art and incredible don't normally go in the same sentence. But they were amazing paintings.
The whole city charms. Funny signs are everywhere. My favorite--the mail slot in the National post office reading "All places except Dublin." The Georgian doors on the townhouses are painted brilliant blues, strong reds, mild yellows and even Irish green. The streets are cobbled and crowded with very fast walkers. Although walking in Dublin is a visual feast, we also got to ride on red double-decker buses.
The last night, we descended the bus too soon. This meant a 10-minute walk in the cold... and the snow! Yes, it snowed on us! Huge, beautiful flakes drifted from the sky. I'd never been in snow like that before (besides briefly our last day in Berlin). The song from The Sound of Music is true-- it really does stay on your nose and eyelashes!
Imagine what it feels like to suddenly be in an English-speaking nation after 3 months of misunderstandings. When our plane touched down in Dublin (from Berlin), it was the most incredible thing. Ordering a sandwich presented no problem! Paying the correct amount of money for the sandwich was easy! Figuring out which bus went to our hotel--piece of cake. Except that they speak Gaelic, too. As evidenced by one of our TV channels and signs throughout the city. (Like this one!)
Funny thing was asking an Irish person a question. Sometimes this would lead to a furrowing and a quizzical "What?". As if MY accent was strange.
Our first morning there, we were walking to the store to buy provisions (granola bars, hobnobs and face wash)... when all of a sudden, on a quiet, residential street, an old, plaid-clad gentleman came bicycling down the hill towards us calling "Happy New Year, girls!" And that moment basically sold me on the whole country.
The highlights of fair Dublin included the seeing ancient Christian manuscripts at Chester Beatty Library and the Book of Kells at Trinity College. They have gorgeous, intricately-illuminated texts from 30 AD to the 1600s. We saw an incredible Polish Art exhibit at the National Gallery. You're probably thinking Polish Art and incredible don't normally go in the same sentence. But they were amazing paintings.
The whole city charms. Funny signs are everywhere. My favorite--the mail slot in the National post office reading "All places except Dublin." The Georgian doors on the townhouses are painted brilliant blues, strong reds, mild yellows and even Irish green. The streets are cobbled and crowded with very fast walkers. Although walking in Dublin is a visual feast, we also got to ride on red double-decker buses.
The last night, we descended the bus too soon. This meant a 10-minute walk in the cold... and the snow! Yes, it snowed on us! Huge, beautiful flakes drifted from the sky. I'd never been in snow like that before (besides briefly our last day in Berlin). The song from The Sound of Music is true-- it really does stay on your nose and eyelashes!
Sunday, January 27, 2008
Peace
I've been thinking about moments lately.
This photo of a December afternoon in Paris has been the background on my laptop for a few weeks. Yesterday, I noticed how many things in this image are fleeting. Resting birds. Floating balloons. Empty bench. Stacked chairs. Stilled merry-go-round. Not the normal stance of those nouns. And that's what makes this picture exceptional. Not the black and white. Not the composition. Not the subject. Instead, the moment. Peace. Despite the wind.
Robbie Burns Night
According to the Putmayo calendar (of international CD compilation fame), Friday was Robbie Burns Night. So, always looking for a creative diversion, we celebrated with potato-leek soup, whisky and late-night poetry readings. The Scottish assistant Louise brought her Scot's dictionary and we quizzed her. What's truss? Rubbish. Birl? To spin until dizzy. And did you know whisky spelled whiskey doesn't come from Scotland?
So, in his honor, a portion of his well-loved poem To a Mouse. True and timely for those of us with a lot of life to sort out.
So, in his honor, a portion of his well-loved poem To a Mouse. True and timely for those of us with a lot of life to sort out.
But, Mousie, thou art no thy lane,
In proving foresight may be vain;
The best-laid schemes o' mice an 'men
Gang aft agley,
An'lea'e us nought but grief an' pain,
For promis'd joy!
Still thou art blest, compar'd wi' me
The present only toucheth thee:
But, Och! I backward cast my e'e.
On prospects drear!
An' forward, tho' I canna see,
I guess an' fear!
Thursday, January 24, 2008
Bloopers
You'll never believe this, but they translate the bloopers [the ones at the end of the movie] into French.
Doesn't that defeat the point?
Translating and repeating a humorous mistake is not accidental. These contrived efforts cake mud on the originality and charm that make the blooper reel special.
Doesn't that defeat the point?
Translating and repeating a humorous mistake is not accidental. These contrived efforts cake mud on the originality and charm that make the blooper reel special.
Wednesday, January 23, 2008
Where the time flies
A few people have wondered what fills the long days of a girl working 12 hours a week.
[Quite a change from last Spring when I worked some 12 hour days.]
If I was at home, things would be very different. But time, no matter where a person is topographically located, is like a vacuum--it fills itself. The French vacuum fills slowly and takes 2 hour lunch breaks. The Texan vacuum runs like a diesel truck. Here are some insights into my life. The everyday stuff. That I never thought to blog about before. More than anything you'll find my life resembles that of a pioneer. Even down to those hand-held chalk boards the kids use at school.
French Time Expenditures:
[Quite a change from last Spring when I worked some 12 hour days.]
If I was at home, things would be very different. But time, no matter where a person is topographically located, is like a vacuum--it fills itself. The French vacuum fills slowly and takes 2 hour lunch breaks. The Texan vacuum runs like a diesel truck. Here are some insights into my life. The everyday stuff. That I never thought to blog about before. More than anything you'll find my life resembles that of a pioneer. Even down to those hand-held chalk boards the kids use at school.
French Time Expenditures:
- Washing clothes by hand. In the bathtub. Wringing them out. Hanging them to dry on myriad radiators. Laveries here are expensive--$5 to wash 6 kg of laundry, and $2 to dry.
- Waiting on trams, buses and trains to arrive. There is no pick up and go. It takes about 5 hours a week to get to and from schools.
- Cooking the old-fashioned way. No microwave. No microwave dinners. Want to reheat soup? Well, just get out a pot and light the stove.
- Done heating up soup? Time to wash that pot and the other dishes... also by hand... keeps fingernails spic and span.
- Consulting the Cambridge French-English Thesaurus to figure out what someone said at school, at the market, or on Les Simpson.
- Going to the grocery store. Often. It's only wise to purchase as much as you can walk with home. Otherwise you would just have to abandon those excess groceries on the street corner.
- Exercising. (Okay this is important anywhere) Pastries lurk. They beckon. They stare.
Monday, January 21, 2008
Martin Luther King Jr. Day
Telling students the reason Americans have a holiday January 21 was incredibly difficult.
Learning about the struggle for civil rights all through school inured me to the facts. In my music repertory lately have been A Change Gonna Come by Sam Cooke and peppy songs from Hairspray...yet somehow I neglected to think about their context.
Stupefied is the best word for today. As I started explaining the background of segregation to wide-eyed French kids, I realized how awful it sounded. The ugly, ugly story finally sunk in this thick skull. Writing 1960s on the board knocked the final blow into my consciousness. That date looked so recent. So terribly barely yesterday.
It all made no sense. How could the people with peau blanc be so cruel to the people with peau noir? was the question on every student's face. In their world, races fight... in the context of religion and recent immigration. Neither reason applies. The teacher then mentioned that some racial hate groups still exist today. And it just seemed like the most impossible truth. I had no answer to the wonderings why, except that people can be terrible...everywhere.
Reflecting on this answer while riding the tram home, I thought about the pit of humanity. Reflecting on this tonight, I am struck by grace. And how great is the One who closes up that gap and saves us from the pit. It boggles my mind. And that's a great thing to be boggled over. I had been troubled because of evil. But Christ says "the Lord has anointed me to preach good news to the poor. He has sent me to bind up the brokenhearted, to proclaim freedom for the prisoners and release from darkness for the oppressed, to proclaim the year of the Lord's favor." (Isaiah 61:1-2, Luke 4:18) And His message has no limit. And to me, it's the beautiful truth, the response to ugly questions, the answer to ashes.
Learning about the struggle for civil rights all through school inured me to the facts. In my music repertory lately have been A Change Gonna Come by Sam Cooke and peppy songs from Hairspray...yet somehow I neglected to think about their context.
Stupefied is the best word for today. As I started explaining the background of segregation to wide-eyed French kids, I realized how awful it sounded. The ugly, ugly story finally sunk in this thick skull. Writing 1960s on the board knocked the final blow into my consciousness. That date looked so recent. So terribly barely yesterday.
It all made no sense. How could the people with peau blanc be so cruel to the people with peau noir? was the question on every student's face. In their world, races fight... in the context of religion and recent immigration. Neither reason applies. The teacher then mentioned that some racial hate groups still exist today. And it just seemed like the most impossible truth. I had no answer to the wonderings why, except that people can be terrible...everywhere.
Reflecting on this answer while riding the tram home, I thought about the pit of humanity. Reflecting on this tonight, I am struck by grace. And how great is the One who closes up that gap and saves us from the pit. It boggles my mind. And that's a great thing to be boggled over. I had been troubled because of evil. But Christ says "the Lord has anointed me to preach good news to the poor. He has sent me to bind up the brokenhearted, to proclaim freedom for the prisoners and release from darkness for the oppressed, to proclaim the year of the Lord's favor." (Isaiah 61:1-2, Luke 4:18) And His message has no limit. And to me, it's the beautiful truth, the response to ugly questions, the answer to ashes.
Sunday, January 20, 2008
Hmm
Yesterday I talked with an old lady.
She asked me when the bus would arrive.
So I said "7 minutes."
Then she told me I was standing in dog poo.
Because one good turn deserves another.
She asked me when the bus would arrive.
So I said "7 minutes."
Then she told me I was standing in dog poo.
Because one good turn deserves another.
Wednesday, January 16, 2008
Once Upon A Time
My roomies and I went to the movies tonight. We saw Il etait une fois... once upon a time. You know-- Enchanted. This one's not bad, but english titles receive odd translations sometimes. I'm worried about getting home and not knowing what to call things.
Other literally translated examples--can you guess them:
The War According to Charlie Wilson (More Obvious)
Vengance in the Skin (The Bourne Supremacy)
Come Back to Me (Atonement)
Other literally translated examples--can you guess them:
The War According to Charlie Wilson (More Obvious)
Vengance in the Skin (The Bourne Supremacy)
Come Back to Me (Atonement)
Monday, January 14, 2008
Carte de sejour
And now... at last... I am a card-carrying official "Temporary Worker" in France. That means all the papers I've been filling out can be completed. I'll have medical insurance! So I don't need to be worried sick about getting sick. This card is plastic, front and back with my photo, signature, and vital information. It fits neatly inside my passport.
Other than that, things have been fairly slow. Sarah came and visited this weekend. We spent quite a bit of time on expeditions. Also, watching "The Beverly Hillibillies" and belly laughing. All four of us played Pictionary by the fire on Friday night with words we secretly wrote down on pieces of paper. Texas vs. Her Majesty's Empire. Quite a bit of cultural strategy went into the game. Although my picture of Siren looked like a consession stand and Megan threw a few nasty punches, including Cricket Bat and Elvis Presley, Texas prevailed. Now we have even more art for our walls. Our mural of kid art grows every week.
Also on a bright note:
Today the Electric company and I had a chat about a problem with our bill. Amazingly, it all worked out! Not bad customer service! No hassle at all! This event overturns my previous phobia (induced by France Telecom) of speaking on the phone with French companies. They are slowly creeping off the black list.
On a hungry note:
Saw a picture of soft tacos online. Can't wait to be home in 30 days!
Other than that, things have been fairly slow. Sarah came and visited this weekend. We spent quite a bit of time on expeditions. Also, watching "The Beverly Hillibillies" and belly laughing. All four of us played Pictionary by the fire on Friday night with words we secretly wrote down on pieces of paper. Texas vs. Her Majesty's Empire. Quite a bit of cultural strategy went into the game. Although my picture of Siren looked like a consession stand and Megan threw a few nasty punches, including Cricket Bat and Elvis Presley, Texas prevailed. Now we have even more art for our walls. Our mural of kid art grows every week.
Also on a bright note:
Today the Electric company and I had a chat about a problem with our bill. Amazingly, it all worked out! Not bad customer service! No hassle at all! This event overturns my previous phobia (induced by France Telecom) of speaking on the phone with French companies. They are slowly creeping off the black list.
On a hungry note:
Saw a picture of soft tacos online. Can't wait to be home in 30 days!
Wednesday, January 9, 2008
Les Soldes!
The sales started today! Credit cards all over France burn and women's wardrobes burgeon.
This is a big deal in France--they only happen twice a year. So from today until February 17th, there will be big spending and mass chaos. A lot of stores shut their curtains early yesterday to prepare. I was reading an article yesterday that said the government poured huge amounts of money into international advertising, and that hotels in Paris now offer discounts on rooms, maps to stores and trilingual shopping coaches.
Caroline and I decided to go see the show. Lines trailed the dressing rooms and cash registers. Neon tickets poked out of piles of sweaters. I tried on 8 pairs of jeans, and the 8th pair actually fit. So now I have one of those weird pairs of jeans that are skinny around the ankles... the sort that I ridiculed and thought I'd never buy... the kind that everyone here tucks into their boots... and that I will wear to school tomorrow. Oh well. America may laugh, but it's normal here. Your legs stay warmer.
I think one of my favorite memories of living here happened this evening. Megan, Caroline and I settled in on the sofa in front of the fireplace and watched Hairspray on a laptop. That's it. It was simple and filled with contentment. I'm realizing that time here won't last forever. And I don't want it to go slower (a picture of beef fajita tacos made me sad yesterday), but I don't want it to go faster either.
This is a big deal in France--they only happen twice a year. So from today until February 17th, there will be big spending and mass chaos. A lot of stores shut their curtains early yesterday to prepare. I was reading an article yesterday that said the government poured huge amounts of money into international advertising, and that hotels in Paris now offer discounts on rooms, maps to stores and trilingual shopping coaches.
Caroline and I decided to go see the show. Lines trailed the dressing rooms and cash registers. Neon tickets poked out of piles of sweaters. I tried on 8 pairs of jeans, and the 8th pair actually fit. So now I have one of those weird pairs of jeans that are skinny around the ankles... the sort that I ridiculed and thought I'd never buy... the kind that everyone here tucks into their boots... and that I will wear to school tomorrow. Oh well. America may laugh, but it's normal here. Your legs stay warmer.
I think one of my favorite memories of living here happened this evening. Megan, Caroline and I settled in on the sofa in front of the fireplace and watched Hairspray on a laptop. That's it. It was simple and filled with contentment. I'm realizing that time here won't last forever. And I don't want it to go slower (a picture of beef fajita tacos made me sad yesterday), but I don't want it to go faster either.
Tuesday, January 8, 2008
The Full Basket
Well, I'm back in Valenciennes! The holiday went by so quickly. Seriously, the tomato in the refridgerator didn't even have time to go bad.
I wish this could be a really long, insightful and entertaining post about La Grande Bretagne (Great Britain) and our travels there, but I'm feeling a bit sick. This is just a quick message to let everyone know I'm back safely and tell one story from the day.
This afternoon, after work (a day that included a possible gas leak at school), after riding the bus and the tram, I was not thrilled to be back in France. People here speak French. It doesn't seem as enthralling now as it does the last time I left an English-speaking nation. Anyway, so I'm shopping for dinner. [One of the fun things about France is that there's a store for everything. Notably, the butcher, the baker, and the produce stand. My favorite stand, Le Plein Panier (the full basket), stands on a nearby corner. It's there that this story takes place.] At the Full Basket this afternoon, I told the man I was making a soup, and he and his wife gave wise council on how many of which vegetables to put in it. When the last turnip had been place in the sack and everything weighed, the man walked over to the celery, reached out and broke the top of a leafy stick off and tucked it in the sack. "It's nothing," he said, "Just a little something." And that single little snap set off a chain of little snaps from my head to my heart and made me genuinely happy to be back in my mid-sized, non-touristy, slightly-backwards French town. Because not many people around the world are blessed enough to have a produce vendor who thinks that a pinch of celery greens are essential to seasoning a soup and who cares enough to give that sentiment away.
I wish this could be a really long, insightful and entertaining post about La Grande Bretagne (Great Britain) and our travels there, but I'm feeling a bit sick. This is just a quick message to let everyone know I'm back safely and tell one story from the day.
This afternoon, after work (a day that included a possible gas leak at school), after riding the bus and the tram, I was not thrilled to be back in France. People here speak French. It doesn't seem as enthralling now as it does the last time I left an English-speaking nation. Anyway, so I'm shopping for dinner. [One of the fun things about France is that there's a store for everything. Notably, the butcher, the baker, and the produce stand. My favorite stand, Le Plein Panier (the full basket), stands on a nearby corner. It's there that this story takes place.] At the Full Basket this afternoon, I told the man I was making a soup, and he and his wife gave wise council on how many of which vegetables to put in it. When the last turnip had been place in the sack and everything weighed, the man walked over to the celery, reached out and broke the top of a leafy stick off and tucked it in the sack. "It's nothing," he said, "Just a little something." And that single little snap set off a chain of little snaps from my head to my heart and made me genuinely happy to be back in my mid-sized, non-touristy, slightly-backwards French town. Because not many people around the world are blessed enough to have a produce vendor who thinks that a pinch of celery greens are essential to seasoning a soup and who cares enough to give that sentiment away.
Tuesday, January 1, 2008
Happy New Year
I am in Berlin so they say something like Frohe Neue Jahre, but my German is so rusty it is hard to be sure. We have had a wonderful time here! This is a fantastic city and I can't wait to return. Last night we met up with some friends from Valenciennes and celebrated 2008 next to the Brandenburg Gate.
Germans were going crazy with feuerwerks. Its funny hearing blasts and smelling gunpowder in a city that is full of blackish buildings still speckled and pockmarked from actual gunfire 50 years ago.
Germans were going crazy with feuerwerks. Its funny hearing blasts and smelling gunpowder in a city that is full of blackish buildings still speckled and pockmarked from actual gunfire 50 years ago.
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