Target?

Part of the fun (fun?) of adjusting to a new country is learning where to shop. Finding your own set of bonnes adresses. So what I want to know is - where oh where can I find the French equivalent of Target?? Tar-jay. My monthly stop for all household supplies. One of the rare reasons I ever drove my car in Washington, DC. In particular, I want to stock up* on beauty supplies. Shampoo! Conditioner! Big bottles of body lotion! Nail Polish!

I've tried the grocery stores here, but the selection is pitiful. Then I went to the pharamcie (or even better, a parapharmacie). Great selection, but Oh the prices! So I finally settled on Monoprix which is slightly more expensive than a normal grocery store, but has a better selection. There are a lot of the same brands I'm familiar with in the US: Dove, Pantene, Neutrogena ... but the bottles are half the size! And the prices are more expensive! If I'm going to pay this much for beauty products, I might as well buy everything at Sephora (aka, The Best Store Ever. But also very damaging to my budget.) Beauty products are a huge obsession for me. Anyone have any tips on where to find them even slightly cheaper here in France?? And what about other household products like plastic wrap, ziploc bags, toilet paper etc. Am I destined to buy the small, expensive quantities at the corner market forever? Help!

*I fear "stocking up" is an American thing that I'm going to have to get over in France. They apparently Just Don't Do It.

The dreaded high school reunion

I am finally back in France and recovering from jet lag yet again. Last week I was in the US to take care of a few things at the French consulate in Boston, an appointment which coincided nicely with Thanksgiving. Thanksgiving wasn't the only thing that kept me in the States last week though ... last Friday night was also my 10 year high school reunion... and was shut down early for misbehavior.

Ugh. I hated High School.

If my reunion had been last year, I probably wouldn't have attended. After 10 years, most of my classmates are married, with kids and houses and pets and very Settled Down. I have none of those things. Fortunately, this reunion fell on The Most Exciting Year of my Life to date ... the year I moved to Paris! So although I had no pictures of cute kids in Halloween costumes, I was able to say "Well, I'm living in Paris...", which elicited a pretty good reaction from people. Or at least made me feel like I was actually doing something, even though I didn't have a wallet-full of pictures to prove it.

In the rational part of my brain I realize this is all stupid - I never see these people, I probably won't see them again for 10 more years, I didn't even LIKE High School - so why do I care what they think of my life?! But I definitely got an unhealthy sense of satisfaction by being able to say that I'm finally living in France, when so many people are already feeling "stuck" in their lives. (Yes, this is a toxic, unhealthy, unhelpful, self-absorbed feeling, I know. That's why it's good this reunion stuff only happens every 10 years!).

On a positive note, it was great to catch up with people I hadn't seen since graduation. Some people hadn't changed at all, and others were completely different, either in appearance or attitude or whatever. But, apparently some of my former classmates didn't change much at all. A group of classmates crashed the reunion just after dinner. Not only did they show up without tickets, but they brought their own alcohol, a big no-no (actually illegal, I think) at many restaurants. The bartender figured it out pretty quickly and had all of us kicked out. Fantastic. The funniest thing is, that if you had asked me to guess who would be likely to do that, purely based on their high school behavior, I would've guessed those people. You would think 10 years would change some things, but unfortunately not...

Anyway, I'm back in Paris, ready to resume working, blogging, exploring and massive amounts of Christmas shopping. I've never been in France for Christmas before. If anyone has any must-see holiday related things in Paris, please leave them in the comments!

Fabulous feather dusters

I just love these big, lush feather dusters on display in a shop window in the 2e. Makes me want to get a French maid costume and start cleaning!

Beaujolais Nouveau and la greve encore!

Tonight at midnight, the first bottles of Beaujolais Nouveau will be opened. This will be the first time that I'll be in France for this event. In Washington, DC, the francophile crowd would go crazy about Beaujolais Nouveau every year. French restaurants would run out of dinner reservations weeks in advance, and people would crowd into the bar, waiting for midnight when the wine would be opened. I assumed things would be equally as festive here in France, although while trying to rally support from my French coworkers to go out with me tonight, I was met with mediocre enthusiasm.

The typical Beaujolais Nouveau we get in the US is rouge (red). But, according to this article (in French), there will be a rose for the first time ever in France, and the blanc (white) will not be produced this year. I'll have to try to get my hands on a bottle of the Beaujolais Nouveau rose.

The other news today is la greve! Like in October, the train employees will be going on strike to protest possible changes to their retirement plans. This strike is supposed to be much worse than the last, with an indefinite duration. I'm returning to the US on Friday for Thanksgiving week ... and I have a feeling I'm going to be taking a 50 euro taxi ride to the airport instead of the 8 euro metro!

French Beauty Guide

Just came across this post on StyleBites called "A French Woman's Guide to Beauty". I definitely agree about the simple makeup routine. Most women I run across in Paris look very natural and polished, but not at all made up. I'm hoping to discover a few of my own French beauty secrets in the next couple of months, and will be sure to share them!

Merde!

Speaking with actual French people in French is much different than speaking with your fellow Anglophone classmates in a French class. The real, spoken French language is not the stuff you learn in textbooks. And is infinitely more interesting and colorful than the phrases your classmates put together. And the gestures - Oh! The gestures! It's not as much as in Italy, but watching people speak is completely entertaining. When you combine it all, it makes the French that many of us learn very very far from anything that could be perceived as normal, conversational French.

In my excited preparations for moving to Paris, I bought a couple of books that I thought might help me pickup some phrases. In reality, I looked at the books once, but never learned much from them. Learing slang, I'm realizing, is best done over drinks in a bar, listening to people tell their stories.

I had one of the slang books "Merde! The Real French You Were Never Taught at School." on my desk (yeah, real professional, I know. Thought it might be a good conversation starter though.) One of my French colleagues picked it up and was immediately fascinated by all of the catchy English phrases like "I have a frog in my throat" (the French say "I have a cat in my throat"), and "to kick the bucket". So she's borrowing the book for awhile, and we're going to get lunch and teach each other some choice slang. Should be very educational!

Boulangeries

I'm blissfully in a lunch rut. This is not new for me. In Washington, DC, I was obsessed with bento boxes at Teaism. It seems like in Paris, I will be obsessed with the boulangerie around the corner from my office. This little boulangerie (officially translates to "bakery", but this one is so much more!) has the obligatory racks of baguettes and other tasty breads, an extensive case of pastries, and a very diverse selection of sandwiches and salads. And not just the typical baguette sandwiches (although they have those too, and I do love them), but these yummy sandwiches called "Pavés". A pavé is a big sandwich on almost cibatta-like bread, filled with a variety of things. My favorite is jambon gruyere. This is basically ham and "swiss cheese", with delicious French mayonnaise (not like the stuff in the jar!), tomatoes, eggs (the French love eggs in their sandwiches, it seems) and lettuce. Oh, I am getting hungry just thinking about it. And the best part: the sandwich is only 3.5 euros! For a huge sandwich! Coming from DC where a sandwich was in the $7 range, this is amazing to me. (Ok, let's put the exchange rate to the side for a minute...).

Sometimes, in my weaker moments, I also treat myself to a patisserie (while dealing with the stress of moving abroad, it's important to indulge myself sometimes, right??). Flan au chocolat. Eclair au café. Mille feuille. Ahhhhh.

My coworkers went for sushi today, but I had to have my pavé. I've been eating sushi for years. But real French boulangerie sandwiches?? For at least a few more months, the novelty will keep me hooked.

Unwanted Roomates?

I am paranoid. Sitting in my apartment and writing, I keep seeing motion out of the corner of my eye. A dark spot on the floor - is it a spider? Something on the baseboard - a mouse? Or, my all time favorite, a camel cricket?? I just learned from Wikipedia that camel crickets are also known as "cave crickets", which is quite appropriate as my apartment in Washington DC was in the basement. (Well, I liked to think of it as a "garden apartment", but...). Anyway, my apartment was overrun with camel crickets. There would even be little camel cricket babies in the bathtub in the mornings every few weeks. Ick. I also had 2 infestations of mice, and an unfortunate run-in with a snake. (I'll share that story some other time.).

The building I lived in, in Washington, was built in the 1940s. My building here in Paris is significantly older. I live on the 5th floor now (ok, 5th FRENCH floor, which equates to the 6th American floor. Floor counting here starts with zero, not one.) But, I cannot believe that this very old apartment building is pest-free. And I know that pests are not deterred by having to travel through walls up to the higher floors. So I'm just biding my time, paranoid, waiting until I see what unwanted roomates are going to join me here in Paris...

St. Eustache in the morning

A view of St. Eustache near Les Halles from my walk into work this morning. It rained a lot last night, and everything seemed very clean and sparkly this morning in the bright sunshine.

Space Cadet!

Learning to speak French on a day to day basis is a challenge. Actually, as I've written about before, I actually cheat quite a bit. There is a big difference between the French you learn in school, and what's actually spoken on the street. Also, there's a big difference between being able to function in a language (ask directions, read menus etc.) and actually express yourself and communicate with someone on a personal level. I'm totally, completely functional in French. But trying to express my personality or have any sort of a sense of humor are impossible. Forget witty comebacks: it takes too long to work out the correct verb conjugation, and then the moment is gone.

I'm still amazed sometimes that I can understand what's going on around me. I'll be going along, functioning fine, and then I have this out-of-body experience where I see myself doing whatever I'm doing, and I just think - "Wow." So, today I was in a meeting with my French colleagues. The meeting started perfectly fine, everyone jabbering in French, and I was following along, even contributing a little bit (a little bit, and very badly, but they got the gist). And then the out of body experience started "Wow, here I am having a meeting all in French! And I know what's going on! Well, sort of. I'm following most of it. Except when they talk over each other. But this is cool. Except I think I screwed up that last sentence I said, but whatever. I bet in a couple of months I'll really know what's going on and..." and then suddenly I hear (in French) "...isn't that right, Amanda?". And deafening silence. Everyone looking at me. Nervous laugh. And, lost in my lala land, I had absolutely no idea what they were talking about, although it apparently involved me.

Fortunately, I figure I have at least a six-month window where people will attribute any apparently spaceyness to my language skills. So I just said "Pardon? J'ai pas bien compris" ("Sorry? I didn't understand.") and life moved on. Gotta work on my attention span though.

A handful of keys...

I’m renting a short-term apartment for a few months until I decide where I want to live in Paris. After showing me the apartment upon arrival, the landlord handed me a fistful of keys.

There are 6 keys, just for the apartment:
* One front door electronic key
* One mailbox key
* One inner door key
* One key to the little hall leading to my apartment
* Two keys for my actual apartment door

To add to my amusement, one of them is a skeleton key, straight out of a museum.
I wonder how I’m going to fit these all into a small evening bag when going out at night…

Castles among us

I recently spent two days in the Netherlands, in a town called Heerlen near the German border. One night, we had a dinner in a castle. This is amazing to me. In Europe, you can have dinner in a castle. And the castle happens to be right down the road! Amazing. Coming from America where everything is so new, all of this history is really impressive. Where I grew up, in New England, there is Old Stuff (by American standards). But most of it is very minimalist design, like the old houses in Plymouth Plantation and other buildings from similar time periods. But in Europe, the history is so much older, and the designs are so much more ornate. Even in the apartment I’m renting in Paris, there are ornate moldings around the edge of the room, a molding in the center of the ceiling that is clearly intended to hang a chandelier, and marble fireplaces (yes, fireplaces, plural. There are two.). And this is not a super fancy apartment. It’s just a very old building, built when fireplaces and chandeliers were normal. This contrast of having something so old and historic, mixed in with modern life is something I really appreciate about living in Europe!

Bern in Autumn

On my recent trip to Bern, Switzerland, I took this picture of the Fall colors. Having grown up in New England, I have a very specific idea of what Fall feels like. Washington, DC never had a real Fall feel for me. In Paris, the air was definitely crisp, and there were some leaves on the ground, but it wasn't until I got to Bern that I was reminded of Autumn in New England.

Rule #1,352

The idea of moving to Paris was completely thrilling to me. But the reality of being in a new town, and not having any friends, is a bit more challenging. I had pretty much the same situation when I moved to Washington DC six years ago. In Paris there is the additional issue of the language barrier – but luckily, I’m older & wiser, and have the additional allure of a cute (ok maybe it’s not cute…) American accent.

One of my rules (apparently I have a lot of rules) that works well in this situation is “You’d better have a REALLY good reason for declining that invitation!”. For a certain period, say, three or six months, I make myself accept almost any social invitation that comes my way…even if it sounds dreadfully boring. You never know where you’ll meet your next friend (or date), so you just have to put yourself out there.

Of course, my coworkers and friends can exploit this rule ... they could invite me to do just about anything, say, helping them move, and I'd have to accept :) Shhhh...

Just not quite as impressive in the US...

I was walking into our office in Washington, DC this morning (my second to last day here!), and passed by a group of workers who were on strike and protesting. There were probably 20 workers, all banging on drums and walking around in a circle in front of their office building with signs. However after seeing this manifestation in Paris a couple of weeks ago, the small group of people walking around in a circle in DC seemed much less impressive.

The protest in Paris pictured here went on for a good hour, with hundreds of people blocking the entire street, playing extremely loud music and talking through megaphones. Now THAT is a protest.

Food Safety...what?

I went out to lunch last week with some colleagues. One lovely thing about France is that you can have a 3 course lunch with wine, and c’est normal. As an appetizer (in French it’s called the entrée, because it’s the entrance to the meal), my colleagues all ordered an oeuf coquette (coddled egg??). I’ve never tried this before, so I thought I’d give it a try. Having experimented in France before, I knew that often food was shocking to an American, so I asked my coworker, “Is the egg cooked?” She told me that the egg was cooked in cream, and was eaten with bread. Sounds delicious! When my oeuf arrived, it was indeed in cream, but also clearly Not Cooked. It was a ramekin of hot cream, with a raw egg poured in the center. I can be comfortable with raw yolks, but typically the egg white is firm. This egg white was clear and gelatinous and stringy – a perfectly raw egg. Growing up in America, we learn early on that eating raw eggs, much like raw hamburger, is a risky activity. Well although this may be true, it is clearly not a risk that concerns the French. I said “um, this oeuf is not cooked.” To which my colleagues looked at me with puzzled expressions and said “oh yes, it’s cooked.” And dug into their meals. So after a 2 second pause, I started in on mine too. And it was delicious. Just need to get used to taking a deep breath and eating whatever is in front of me – without thinking about it too much!