Christmas in Paris

OK so I won't actually be having Christmas in Paris as I am going home tomorrow but I can describe the Christmas celebrations we have been having recently.

Firstly there was the Christmas party which like all good Christmas parties included foie gras, a Christmas must in France, but didn't include oysters, which is another Christmas must. There was also quite naturally lots of wine and Champagne and the company had put lots of money behind the bar because the drinks were all free. Compared to British Christmas parties, the free bar did not result in everyone getting absolutely hammered. Admittedly there were a few people looking worse for wear and of course the IT guys were looking lovingly at the HR girls. But again, whereas in England there would have been lots of cheeky snogs under the mistletoe, as far as I know, at our office party there was no scandal. I did miss the cheesy Christmas music. Although the music was good and kept us on the dancefloor way into the early hours there was no Christmas music to get us in the spirit of things.

On top of the Christmas party, there was the team meal, which again was in a lovely French restaurant and was accompanied by lots of wine. The usual 2 hour lunch break, extended into 3 or 3 and a half. Like any respectable French meal, the meal included the standard three course, plus champagne to start, amuse bouches, cheese and digestifs. The remaining two or three hours of the afternoon were spent digesting and trying to find the courage to actually do some work. I spent most of the afternoon wanting to put my head on my desk and have a nap. Even the coffee after dinner did not help to overcome the effects of the champagne and wine over lunch!

All my Christmas shopping is finished luckily and I have only to pack my bags and try to get through the security tomorrow morning at Charles de Gaulle. Christmas shopping in France is easy as pie because most shops will gift wrap it for you. In fact they do that all year round so Birthday presents are easy as well. Some shops wrap gifts very nicely, Sephora for example, although they don't go to the extremes of Rowan Atkins in Love Actually.

I bought my last gifts last night, one of which was some macaroons from La Durée on Champs Elysée. Macaroons are also part of the Christmas tradition in France which might explain why I spent an HOUR queuing to get them and when I left the queue was just as long as when I had arrived. To be fair, I've queued longer for worse. It wasn't the most unpleasant hour of my life, although I was kicking myself for not having brought a camera because the decoration in the boutique is just so beautiful! I was waiting until I got to the point in the queue where I could see the display of all the lovely cakes and other delicious things on sale. The following half an hour passed a lot quickly because I was marveling at the beautiful boxes, gifts and all the rest on display. After an hour of queuing after work and before dinner, I was fairly proud of myself for only ordering the macaroons for my friend and not succumbing to the delicious réligieuses which were on sale!

What I love about France is that people are so susceptible to charm. I find it gets me out of a multiple of difficult situations and can also get advantages. And it's not just the French men that you can bat your eyelids at. When I worked in the university and we had to give our work sheets to the photocopy department, despite our warmest "bonjours" we received the cold treatment and a sigh from the lady behind the desk as if we were very much inconveniencing her life. But my colleague, who was English, bounded in with his cheeky-chappy attitude, and the sour-faced ladies were all smiles!!! (Anyway digression over)

Last night when I was in La Durée, I bought a box of 8 macaroons for my friend. Having spent the last half an hour at the far end of the counter watching the smartly dressed staff taking the gorgeous pale blue, pink or green boxes and wrapping them with silky ribbon I really wanted my friends present to have some ribbon. The young guy who served me was very nice but when I asked if he could wrap the box with ribbon he told me that as I had bought the cheaper box (no I'm not stingy, the box of macaroons is to go with many other gifts!!) he couldn't wrap it for me. I shamelessly took advantage of my female charms and gave him my best "Oh-I-am-so-disappointed-and-it-is-a-Christmas-present" look and did my best to imitate the cat in Shrek. The lovely guy then said he could put a bit of ribbon in the bag and I could wrap it myself. Cue huge smile. A small victory but a victory nonetheless. Off I trotted still grinning with my lovely La Durée bag in my hand and the ribbon to wrap my present up with later.

I am yet to spend a proper Christmas in France. Maybe next year if all goes well. In the meantime I really like going home for Christmas as I am usually home for long enough to have a nice break but not too long that my family will drive me mad (or at least I hope not!).

So to all those who have read or will read this blog over the next few days, Happy Holidays!! See you in 2008!

PS. For want of a better Chrismassy picture, please admire my artwork!! lol

Loving Paris in the winter

(Just as a side note, I have now added the links to a few blogs I rather like and if there is anyone who has stumbled upon my blog (probably looking for garden roses) and has read all my posts and is now bored and looking for more blogger fodder please check these out)

My sister and her boyfriend are coming to Paris for New Years. My sister, being rather clever, is like many friends or relatives of people who live in Paris, she has figured out that sister in Paris = free accommodation for romantic visit to Paris. She and her boyfriend shall be staying in my apartment, I have graciously agreed to go elsewhere. If anyone, like my sister is thinking that Paris might be a good idea over the Christmas season, just one word of warning, it is freezing here!!! The Eiffel tower might look very pretty all lit up and sparkling (it sparkles on the hour for about ten minutes by the way) but you'll be pretty unimpressed by it if you are freezing your toes off (going up it at this time of year is not advised either unless you are wearing a hat and earmuffs, that cold wind bites!). So if you have already seen the Paris classics (Eiffel tower, Arc du Triomph, Louvre (from the outside) and Sacré Coeur) here are a few not very expensive, alternative things couples or friends can do if they are planning to visit Paris over Christmas and the New Year.

1) Chateau Vincennes (http://www.chateau-vincennes.fr/) if you take the metro line 1 until its destination heading east you will come to Château Vincinnes. Apart from being a rather regal looking castle that you can wander into for free and then wander out the other side to the Bois de Vincennes and the Floral parc, it is also a historically interesting castle and its dungeon is one of the oldest in Europe. A guided tour starts at 7.50 euros.

2) Parc des Buttes-Chaumont (Metro Buttes-Chaumont line 7) – I love this park. It is quite steep in places but there are also lots of winding paths, fountains, a waterfall and a lake which make it quite a romantic setting. I'm sure that even if it is freezing outside, the park will look like a winter wonderland.

3) Christmas markets – Gingerbread, mulled wine, all kinds of delicious food and drinks, and craft goods. Little log cabins have been set up at various locations around Paris to create Christmas villages. Below are a few of the Christmas markets.

6e arrondissement
Le Village du Père Noël"
Place St Sulpice
From 6 to 24 December
Metro: St Sulpice

Boulevard St Germain des Prés
From 5 to 31 December
Metro: St Germain des Prés

11e arrondissement
Place de la Nation
From 1 to 24 December from 10am to 8pm
Metro: Nation

20e arrondissement
10th Ménilmontant Christmas Market
1, Place Maurice Chevallier
From 14 to 16 December
Métro : Ménilmontant

4) Get all dressed up and go and see the ballet, The Nutcracker showing at Opera Garnier places from 5-75 euros (http://www.operadeparis.fr/).

5) Sometimes you have to treat yourself and at the same time have a warm drink and escape the cold. In which case I would go to La Durée and have a coffee and sample some macaroons. It is about €1.50 per macaroon or €6.90 for a choice of four, an espresso coffee with that would be €3.30 or a delicious creamy hot chocolate would be another €6. But even though it is a little pricy for around €12 you get to escape the cold, eat gorgeous macaroons and sit in the famous luxurious La Durée restaurant. (I would advise you go there in the afternoon when there will be less people than around lunchtime for example). They have several restaurants around Paris, one on the Champs Elysée, one Rue Royale in the 6th, and another on Boulevard Haussman in the Printemps department store. For SATC fans, I think it is the one on Rue Royale that Carrie was seen in after being left by herself by the Russian. In fact, for SATC fans, there are all the locations in Paris as shown in the last two episodes of series six to be explored.

6) Le Louvre Shopping centre – Most people go and have their pictures taken at the glass pyramid outside the Louvre because they don't want to queue to go into the Louvre. I used to be one of those people. I have now discovered that the queue outside is only the queue to get into the Louvre shopping centre (through which you can then enter the museum) but for those who don't want to pay to get into the Museum you can have great photo opportunities by just going into the Louvre shopping centre which is free. There, there are lots of lovely shops, Occitane being one of them which sells all kinds of soaps and perfumes etc. Once inside, out of the cold, you can decide if you want to brave the queues and actually go into the museum itself.

7) Velib – You may already have heard about this before, in fact I think I have already mentioned it myself, but there is now this new system of self-service bicycles around Paris. They will accept foreign cards as long as they are chip and pin. The machine will ask if you agree to pay €150 euros but fear not, this is just a guarantee in case you run off with the bike. I have already "velibbed" myself and the only money that was ever taken out of my account was the 1 euro day tariff. You'll warm up quicker biking around Paris and see more things, although I would advise not tackling the busier squares and roundabouts and getting off your bike and pushing it along the pavement. The roundabout at Charles de Gaulle Etoille does not look friendly for motorists, let alone cyclists!

8) Bateaux mouches – yes again this is outside but there are boats where you can sit inside and take a tour along the seine and look at all the monuments, quite comfortably sat down (see http://www.bateauxparisiens.com/, prices start from 11 euros for adults). Anyway it is rather romantic taking a boat ride along the seine.

9) The café at Place St Michel, Le Départ Saint Michel, much cheaper than La Durée, this café is on the corner between Quai St Michel and the Place St Michel. You can get a seat looking out onto the seine and Notre Dame on the other side of the river and watch people go by (a favourite pastime of all French people, especially as staring doesn't seem to be quite so socially unacceptable here!). In France, there is no problem about taking a book, sitting in a café, ordering a €1.50 café and staying there for hours. Out of the cold, warm and comfortable and with views on Notre Dame, what more can you ask for (oh ok, a nice romantic French man to seduce you would be nice as well).

10) Speaking of Notre Dame, you may have already visited it but at Christmas there is a free show with music from the choir and a slide show called Lumière née de la Lumière showing picture of various statues and art works, all depicting the nativity. Even for those who aren't religious or aren't Christian, it is just nice to sit there listening to the choir music and watching the display of pictures. So nice in fact that last year when I visited with friends, one of my friends fell asleep on my shoulder!

11) Ice skating at Hotel de Ville or Montparnasse – For this one you will have to be wrapped up warm but I'm sure with all the skating around you'll warm up anyway (unless like me you tend to fall on your bum quite a lot in which case thermal undies would be useful!). This is a lot of fun. It costs 5 euros to hire the skates and the Hotel de Ville does look very pretty with the ice rink in front of it. There is also a toboggan slide for the kids (oh to be five again!).

12) Lights of Paris – As it gets dark around 5 or 6 pm here it is a great opportunity to go and take pictures of the Christmas decorations. The obvious one is Champs Elysée where the trees are all lit up with lights which look like sparkling icicles. In front of Notre Dame there is a nice big Christmas tree which is all lit up too. Boulevard Haussmann is another place which has to be visited as not only is the shopping centre all lit up but there are also animated window displays (big kid, me?). There are other places which are lit up which you may fall upon when wandering around.

13) "Chestnuts roasting on a…"…barrel – as you wander around Paris you will see people selling hot chestnuts. Whilst they may not look very inviting, once you crack open the shells (careful they are hot!) the white insides are really yummy.

14) Montmartre – Again, you may already have visited Montmatre before but around this time of year it is rather nice as there are often market stalls and warm food and beverages being sold (mulled wine especially). Montmatre is one of the rare places in Paris where you can eat well for not very expensive. At this time of year I would suggest that you have crepes for lunch finishing with a nutella crepe for dessert (surely the reason why nutella was invented) or if you go there in the evening, check out one of the raclette or fondue restaurants. Warm melting cheese, yum!

Of course, if none of the above tempts you, Paris has ample amounts of gardens, museums and art Galleries, there is a Museum of Edith Piaf (5 rue Crespin du Gast, Metro – ménilmontant) or for the fashion fans Christian Lacroix, is presenting an exhibition called history of fashion at the Musée Arts Décoratifs. In any case, do not be fooled (as I have done in the past) into thinking that France is always warmer than the UK (for example) and not dress appropriately. The thing about Paris is that it is an amazing, romantic, fascinating city but unless you are properly wrapped up warm to face the cold, you won't care how beautiful it all is!

L'amour est….

Paris, the city of love. When people think of incredibly romantic destinations they would like to visit, you can bet that Paris appears somwhere on the list. We have all heard about le French lover, ze French kiss (cannot tell you how many times French guys have tried to sell that one to me!) and just generally the French's reputation for being amazing lovers (yes I can confirm that one). But what is it about France and the French which makes them such experts in love. Over the years I have come to appreciate exactly quite how much love forms part of the French culture. Indeed, the business of love seems to be a national pasttime.

When I first arrived in France (after the Eurasmus year that is) and I started teaching, one of the first things the young 8 year old girls I used to teach would ask me was "Mademoiselle Rose, est-ce que tu as une amoureux?". Translation: "Miss Rose do you have someone you are in love with?". Ok, vocabulary problem here. I was not being asked if I had a boyfriend (although it was necessarily implied) I was being asked, in my mind, whether I was in fact in love with someone. If someone from England had asked me the question, even if at the time I had had a boyfriend, I would have asked "what's love got to do with it? So far he is a nice guy, we get on and as for the rest we'll see what happens!". Of course when you start dating someone there is inevitably the stage when you feel all "loved up" and you say to your friends "oh I am so in love!" but what you mean is that you are "in lust". Being asked whether I am in fact in love with someone requires a greater level of reflection as to what being in love actually means. I think the whole world has spent many years trying to answer that one! Of course, in the minds of these sweet French children having a boyfriend = being in love and therefore my boyfriend (had I had one at the time) would have been my "loved one".
I quite truthfully told the children that no, Miss Rose did not have an "amoureux".
"Oh" said the little girl "parceque moi j'en ai un. Il est en cinqième". I'm sorry, what?? Not only did this girl apparently have a boyfriend, whom she was in love with, but in fact that said boy was in fith year in France (year 8 in England, i.e. that he was around 13 years old).

Yes it is true that when I was little (5 to be precise) I had boyfriends. At one point I even had two (scandalous I know), one who I chased around the playground and another who let me kiss him. The first boyfriend didn't let me kiss him, only chase him around, hence the need for the second boyfriend. I must have used up my boyfriend luck having two boyfriends at once because for the rest of my childhood I never had an actual boyfriend. In fact the next boyfriend I did have was when I was 15 years old.

I'm sure that this young girl was just referring to a boy she quite liked and who quite liked her and that was where it ended but I found it interesting the way she used the term "amoureux". When I speak to my young cousins on the subject of boyfriends they usually say that they fancy someone but he doesn't fancy them, or vice-versa, or that they have a boyfriend, or that they play kiss and chase with the boys they like. I don't think "love" comes into it whatsoever!

Another example, with the same class of girls, was when I was teaching them things they could say in response to the question "What do you do at the weekend?". Again, another of my 8 year olds raised her hand and said "Miss Rose, comment tu dirai "diner en amoureux"?". "Why?" I asked, wondering when and how this child went to romantic restaurants with her lover. "Parce que c'est ça que je fais", she said. Now I'm fairly sure that this question was asked for the benefit of her friends so that she could show off but I still found the idea quite amusing. This little girl's preoccupation was to know how to say "I have a romantic dinner" not "I play with my dolls" or "I play with my skipping rope" or even "I go horseriding" (all of which were subsequently mentioned but ranked lower down!).

The thing that struck me most however was an incident which took place after playtime one day. I just near the classroom door two boys were having a fight, encouraged by their classmates naturally. I managed to break off the fight, send the other children into the classroom and put the two boys on opposite sides of the classroom facing the wall. Once I had got the children to calm down and had set them their work I went over and spoke to the boys individually. "Ok Pierre, what happened".
"Jacombette" Pierre said in a muffled voice.
"What? I didn't understand"
"Jacques m'embête".
"Ok so why does Jacques annoy you?" immediately beginning to think about bullying issues.
Huff.
"Pierre, if you want me to help you then you're going to have to talk to me"
Glare.
"What exactly does Jacques do to annoy you?"
Another huff.
"Pierre!"
"C'est parce que lui il est amoureux de Marion et moi aussi"
Ah, now we have got to the heart of the matter. These two 9 year old boys were fighting over Marion, a blue eyed, blonde haired girl who was very pretty, very aware of the effect her charm had on the boys, and totally not interested in any of them.
Further questioning of Jacques confirmed Pierre's story.

Again, when my young cousin was nine years old, his reply when asked what he thought of the opposite sex would have been "yuck! Girls? Yuk!". He most certainly would not have got into a fight over a girl. Argument over which is the best player in Man U, yes. Argument over a girl, no!
Which is why I was quite astonished that these boys were fighting over a girl. For goodness sake I don't think I've ever seen grown men fighting over a woman nevermind young boys!

In France, love is a part of life. Without love, you don't seem to be living. So for those couples who may be discovering Paris over the holiday season, if in France you feel there is more romance, more poetry, more love in the air in general, that is because it is the case. As I've discovered, the French are such experts in love because, as it would seem, they start'em young!

There's no place like home

OK so they are not red, they are sparkly, but no matter how much I click my heels together I won't just magically fly home (which to be fair would be a really good thing given how much Easyjet are charging these days plus all those extra charges for hand luggage, what???). This time of the year, i.e. the month of November is particularly difficult.

Living in France is amazing, glamorous, romantic, poetic and filled with amazing experiences however there is no place like home and being away from home is difficult. Sometimes I think if I had stayed in the UK and got a job it would be most likely that I would be working away from home and so would not see my family more often than I do at present but at least I would only be a few hours drive away and could go home whenever I wanted. Also there are times when I am home that I think, "isn't this great!" and think about how easy it would be just to move back and fit right back into British culture and not have to overcome the cultural differences as I do here. In actual fact this is just a fantasy because no sooner would I be home than I would be miserable because I missed France.

When I moved out here four years ago everyone said how brave I was being and what a "tough cookie" I was. It's funny how when everyone says that you are brave you don't feel very brave isn't it? Anyway, yes I was being brave, I didn't know anyone in Bordeaux and I had come out on my own to study. Since then I came to Paris, found an apartment, found a job and did the whole thing over again. I think however brave people are those who overcome situations which are imposed upon them. I chose to go to France and start a new life, brave maybe, obstinately stupid definitely! Of course nothing bad happened and year after year my life has worked out, if it hadn't I wouldn't still be here. I'm also someone who despite the difficulties refuses to go back to the UK and wants to prove that I can make it (I've yet to "make it" but I'll keep you posted!). Whilst the last four years have been challenging they have also been rewarding but these rewards have involved sacrifices.

As it always the case, when you decide to move far away from home you have to accept the fact that friends and family will be further away, that their lives will continue without you and that the distance will make a difference. In some cases this can mean that relationship's are improved because you don't see each other every day and hence really enjoy the times that you do see each other but in other cases, living away means that you miss out on special occasions, relationships developing through sharing moments and you have to accept the fact that your old friends will move on without you and even become closer among themselves leaving you out. When I do see my friends in the UK I have discovered that there are cultural differences, my daily life is so different from theirs. They may be talking about the latest sales in Warehouse whereas I'll be excited about the fact that Camaïeu has its 10 days of offers and as for what goes on in popular culture forget it! They'll be humming the latest Amy Winehouse single where as in France, "Rehab" has only just come out. Of course these things don't matter in good friendships but still, events over the last few years have made me realize that sacrifices have been made.

I'm not at all complaining about my life in France. I consider myself to be VERY blessed and haven't regretted anything that has happened in the last few years. Old friendships may show signs of wear and tear but they are still standing and like any relationship they need nurturing from time to time to keep them strong. Also over the past few years I have made and nurtured many other new friendships which I'm very happy about. Everything that has happened, everyone I have met, all the relationships I have had/have still are all part of who I am today and of course I wouldn't want to change that.

What I am trying to say (in my usual roundabout fashion) is that whilst the sparkling lights of the champs elysée are only a few meters away, whilst I can buy myself freshly baked warm croissants and pain au chocolats at any time I choose, whilst I have access to gallons of great cheap French wine and a wide range of cheeses and then of course there are all those charming handsome French men…. all this sometimes cannot compare to being home with my family and friends who come from the same culture as I do, speak the same language, laugh at the same jokes, and have known and loved me for all my life.

Vive les vacances!

Picasso I am not!

Just a small note to say that I've been fiddling around with the colours and fonts etc to see if I could make the blog more appealing. I need to get my camera out and take some decent photos to put up so in the meantime apologies for the blog lay out not being very interesting.

Thanksgiving

Being British I obviously don't celebrate thanksgiving. In fact in Britain we have very few national holidays. There is St George's day which I think is sometime in June and which no-one really cares about, although I think it has become more popular in recent years. There is St Patrick's Day, which is of course Irish, but even if you're not Irish you celebrate it (actually I have more than a couple of Irish relations so I can legitimately celebrate this one). Then there is bonfire/Guy Fawkes night, which is more of a night of fireworks and bonfires and toffee apples and not an actual day. My Canadian cousin, on 1 July (Canada's Independence Day) asked me, "When is England's independence day?" Erm…How can I explain this? So we were the bad guys who colonized everybody and hence everybody else gets to celebrate having defeated us, kicked us out of their country, gained their independence from us etc. Unless you want to count the Romans or the Saxons, England has never really been occupied and hence has never had an independence day. We also don't really have a national costume unless you want to count a man in a bowler hat and a business suit (which is the image the French seem to have of us) sipping tea, holding an umbrella and a bulldog at his side! Anyway enough complaining….

So Thanksgiving, it has only been in recent years that I have in fact begun to celebrate Thanksgiving, or rather I should say I have been privileged to know Americans who have very kindly invited me to their thanksgiving. It all seems like lots of fun and I vaguely understand a bit about the origins of it. The problem lots of Americans living in France find about trying to celebrate this traditional event is finding the ingredients for it. For some reason there is a shortage of turkeys, there is definitely a big problem when it comes to finding a pumpkin especially in Paris! Then of course even if you do find said ingredient it may not be the well-known, tried and tested brand that your mother/grandmother always uses so things don't actually taste the same (again according to a good American friend of mine). I do have to admire my American friends for obstinately insisting on celebrating thanksgiving in spite of the difficulties.

For the last two years I have been kindly invited to an American friend's house in Bordeaux. I remember the first year I was there and around the table were other French friends. Some of the dishes looked rather strange, certainly to the French guests. Of course turkey can be bland at times and even adding herbs is not enough to satisfy the French palate. For me, the turkey, carrots, potatoes and cranberry sauce were like our traditional Christmas dinner or like a traditional Sunday roast and of course I was quite happy to tuck in but to the French, admittedly this dinner was not as flavored as they were used to but they at least gave it ago. The number of times I have French friends making comments about our "bizarre British foods" like lamb and mint jelly and turkey and cranberry as if it was the strangest thing in the world! I would like to point out however that Foie gras is often served with a sweet jelly so we're not that far off the mark! What caused the most eyebrow raising were the sweet potatoes with the marshmallow topping. There were several grimaces from the French guests and I have to admit that even I thought this may be a step too far. Marshmallow sweet gooey stuff next to turkey and potatoes??? Still we all decided to taste it nonetheless. And guess what? Everyone, even the most skeptical among us were asking for seconds.

This year, there is no invite for thanksgiving on the horizon but I would like to wish all my American friends a happy thanksgiving. It’s a lovely time to celebrate with friends and family around a dinner table covered with delicious home made food. I'm not celebrating Thanksgiving today but I can celebrate that fact that we are almost only 4 weeks to Christmas. That said, if I happen to see a pecan pie in a bakers on the way home I shall be using Thanksgiving as an excuse for buying said pie!!

Weekend in Batignolles

Paris is a big bustling city but outside the main city centre, each arrondissement of Paris has its own vibe and pleasant charm. Batignolles, in the 17th arrondissement, is my quartier. A typical weekend in Batignolles could consist of going out on a Saturday afternoon (after a nice lie in of course!), taking your basket or shopping bag to the organic food market on Boulevard des Batignolles and checking out all the seasonal fruit and vegetables. You have to have a good bit of cash on you because the produce is not cheap and they obviously do not take carte bleu! The fruit may not look as shiny as in the supermarket but you can be guaranteed that it is organic. My favourite is the cheese stall, I've become quite a cheese fan since I came to France and whilst I have developed a taste for camembert and some other smelly cheeses, my favourite is goats cheese all white and crumbly and looking just perfect to spread onto a bit of crusty bread! Do not be fooled by the clientele who have an air of ex-hippy, peace and love etc, if you don't respect the queue (the French aren't usually known for their queuing skills but this seems to be the exception) you will find a little old lady grumbling at you for getting in before her and getting the last of the nice organic apples! There is a lady who sells organic beauty products and a lovely man who sold me some organic honey. If you're budget won't stretch to organic, walk a little bit further until you get to Place Prosper Goubaux, where you can turn into rue de Levis and see another market, not organic but just as good. There are all kinds of food shops, butchers, fromageries (cheese again), specialist olive oil shops, book shops etc. The fruit is not organic I grant you but it is a bit cheaper and tastes just as nice, plus there is plenty on display and less chance of arguing with the Batignolle Bobos (Bourgois-Bohème – French word for yuppies). Once shopping is done it is time to take a rest in one of the small cafés and watch the passers by (favourite past time since living in France) and dream about life, love and all the rest.

Sunday, we braved the cold and went for a walk to Square des Batignolles, supposedly the biggest square in Europe (doesn't everyone say that their park, building, square is the biggest square in Europe?) before it becomes too big and is classified as a park. This is a nice little park/big square with a small waterfall flowing into a small river and lake. It's quite a charming setting and it's lovely to see families walking there on a Sunday afternoon and watch children getting excited about feeding the many ducks, geese and black swans (although apparently you're officially not allowed cos I've already been told off once! Spoil sport!). At Place du Docteur Félix, in front of the Church, Notre Dame Des Batignolles, is a nice little square with some nice cafés and restaurants. Then if you head up Rue Batignolles you'll come across more little boutiques, restaurants and special epiceries until once again coming to the Boulevard. It is so pleasant and feels like a secret little community tucked away far from Paris.

Strike two!

So here we are again, only a few weeks after the last strike and now there is another transport strike but this time it may go on until next Thursday when everyone else is going to get on the band wagon i.e. the students, the teachers, the public services (quelle surprise!) and lord knows who else!!!
The strike hasn't caused too much hassle for me personally. This morning I had to walk to work which took me around 45 minutes and I could feel quite smug knowing that for once I actually have done some exercise! Of course the novelty may wear off by the end of the week if there are still no metros. To be fair I don't know what the situation is on my usual metro line because I figured I could either wait and find out how many people were crammed into the one out of five metros or just walk and not waste time. I may be feeling adventurous this evening and see if I can get a metro home so as not to walk home in the dark.

Strikes really annoy me. I was born in the 1980s and grew up in the Thatcher years so I wasn't really aware of the economic changes that happened during that time. All I know was that one day we could have milk at break times and then there was no more milk and apples! When I started to work (about the age of 16 in a weekend job) I had very little trouble finding work in England and since my first weekend job at 16 I have never had too much trouble finding work in the UK. France is a different case and I find it really frustrating that the employment market is as difficult as it is. Once in a job we are AMAZINGLY privileged: lunch tickets, 25 days holiday a year plus the 6 or so national holidays, RTTS (Réduction du temps de travail – days you earn (6 a year) for having worked over your 35 hour week!), a committee (comite d'entreprise) which organizes social events for us, gives us reduced price cinema tickets and will even pay our gym membership! Finding that job however is rather difficult unless you have the exact level of qualifications in the exact sector in which you want to work (you would have a hard time for example finding a job in marketing if you had a banking degree unless you had the relevant experience, which would be difficult to obtain for the same reasons). You also usually have to do internships (stages), sometimes spending up to a year or more as a unpaid intern in order to get work experience, before you can get that oh-so-elusive CDI (contrat de durée indeterminée - permanent working contract). In spite of all the benefits French workers have, especially in the public sector where they seem to do very little but have a water tight employment contract, they decide things are not good enough and decide to go on strike further crippling an already poor economy.

What most annoys me about this is that other workers, who want to work are OBLIGED not to work in some circumstances because the others have decided they want to strike, or more generally, are inconvenienced by the strike because they can't get to work. The right to work is not a fundamental right. The right to study is not a fundamental right either but in France the right to strike is one of their fundamental rights. The right to move around freely is also a fundamental right but one which clearly takes second place to the former. I find this totally unfair. Universities are blocked by students protesting against a law not knowing whether in fact this law may be beneficial to them in the long run. These protests prevent other students, who actually want to study, from attending classes. Their universities are archaic, the resources pitiful and the teaching methods centuries out of date. Ok, they are lucky enough not to be up to their eyes in debt after their studies (as is the case in the UK) and that everyone has access to university education (on the condition of obtaining your baccalaureate but irrespective of the result) but maybe by paying a bit more their universities would improve and attract foreign investment.

I don't mind the strike for what it is. Fair enough, if you have a point to make go and protest, go and strike for as long as you want but don't prevent others from freely living their lives. I love this country and I love its people, if my future is to be here in France, I would like to live in a France which retains all its good qualities for which we admire it but also that it be a country where things are possible without all the administrative red tape, where the economy is good and where future generations will be able to find work, create businesses and contribute to this great nation. Est-il possible?

BISOUS!

One of my favourite words in French is "Bisous", probably for the same reason that "chocolate" is also a good word because it conjures up a nice image or sensation. Bisous means a kiss, whether it be a kiss on the lips or a real kiss on the cheek. It is also seen as a term of endearment or of sending your best wishes to someone. At the end of letters to friends and family, in England we sign of "love and hugs" in France they will say "bises", "bisous", "gross bisous" "je t'embrasse" or "je t'embrasse fort". Note that this is strictly between friends, you would not put it on the end of an email to your boss! In the same way that girls analyse texts from guys to see how many "x" they put at the end, the same attention has been given to texts from French guys to decide whether "bises" may be less sincere than "je t'embrasse".

Now we all know that in France when you greet someone you are required to kiss them on the cheeks, from once, twice up to six times (!!) depending on certain areas of France. This tradition is something I find both enjoyable and at times completely bizarre! In Bordeaux for example, you have to kiss people twice (easy enough!). However in Montpellier it's three times and in Paris its sometimes four times and sometimes twice. The problem is when you meet someone who is say for example from Tours, where it is four times, and you are in Bordeaux, do you kiss twice because you are in Bordeaux or four times because the person comes from Tours?? Also when do you go for "bises" and when do you go for hand shake. Obviously when out with friends, if there is another friend who is introduced to the group then they "fait les bises à tout le monde" and kiss everyone who is present, but in a work situation it kind of depends.

When I studied in Bordeaux, among my group of friends, when we arrived bleary eyed for our morning lectures, we greeted each other with "les bises". Given that we were quite a large group, if you arrived late and the group was still hanging around waiting to go in to the lecture hall, then you had to go and give "les bises" to everyone. This was sometimes not a bad thing as several of the guys in the group were rather good looking and I can't say I minded being given kisses every morning from my handsome friends!! Of course this ritual reoccurred each time we met, whether it be for classes or social events. Sometimes it's a logistical nightmare because the person may be sat at a table in which case they usual stand up so that you can both lean across the table to kiss each other, trying not to send the glasses or other objects on the table flying! Guys have it easy because if it is all guys in the group then all they have to do is shake hands, girls have to kiss everybody, whether male or female. This becomes delicate as sometimes you would meet with a group of people consisting of a mix of your friends, people you don't know or even people you know but don't actually like. In which case there is a different kind of "bises". Sometimes you do a genuine kiss, maybe with a hand lightly touching the arm, other times you do a plain air kiss and if it is someone you don't particularly like, the facial expression changes to being either a sort of disinterested expression. The other kind of kissers, is what my friend used to call "face snoggers" who give you a lovely wet kiss, kind of like what your granny used to do and you have to stand there talking to them just waiting for the moment when you can wipe your cheek! Whilst the French have the whole cheek kissing thing down to a fine art, I have met more than a few "face snoggers"

But what happens when you really care about the person or you are really happy to see them? Well the tendency in the UK (and in the US as an American friends explained to me) is a nice big hug. But many of my French friends are not huggers! In fact, several of them, through years of friendship I have finally trained to hug (and let's not go into the difference between those who hug and those who cuddle!). The French find hugs invasive whilst we find kissing unnecessary and sometimes just as invasive.

After having lived in Bordeaux for several years I knew that many people, through study or work, that a simple Saturday afternoon shopping trip down the rue St Catherine would be frequently interrupted by stopping to say hello to people. Whereas in England, when you see someone you know you just give them a way and keep on going (if you can't stop), in France you feel rude if you don't stop to do some kisses, and as you have stopped you have to say hello and ask how they are so you end up stopping for a good five minutes or so.

Another difficultly I have encountered with the whole "bises" business is when you work with both French people and English people. In a formal working environment you greet your colleagues with a formal handshake. Even if there is no physical contact involved, you MUST go round in the morning and say hello to people, especially if later in the day you are going to need their help. If you don't see them in the morning and you bump into them in the afternoon you have to say "je t'ai dit le bonjour?" before you begin to say anything else or else you could be seen to be rude. With closer colleagues you "fait les bises". The problem I found was when I worked with British or American colleagues, we didn't feel the need to "faire les bises" but then it seemed rude if I was going to kiss my Spanish or French colleagues, to leave the British colleagues out. So it was mutually decided to "when in Rome…". This led to situations where we would end up kissing each other in greeting even when there were no French colleagues around. Eventually, even though to begin with this whole ritual was awkward and seemed unnecessary, we got so used to it that when I went home for Christmas I found myself making a physical movement towards friends to give them a kiss. Luckily they were friends who interpreted the gesture as the beginnings of a hug and therefore reciprocated. Some friends teased me about the way I now kissed as I didn't give "proper" kisses but rather snobbish air kisses!

The most embarrassing situation is when to kiss and when not to kiss. I think I'm used to it now so can interpret the body language and prepare to be kissed but there have been some fairly embarrassing moments, people going in the wrong direction resulting in what looks like a strange kind of dance (generally, except in the south of France, you go left), brushing of lips! I'm quite happy with just two kisses, one on each cheek, it's perfectly acceptable and doesn't take too long. Once I met an acquaintance of a friend when I was in Bordeaux who was himself from Paris. He absolutely insisted that we kiss four times even though I pointed out that we were in Bordeaux and that it was two times.

Anyway, like I said, once you get the hang of it, it's quite nice but even so, sometimes I wish they would put a sign up outside each town saying "here, we kiss three times", because if not, you could easily end up head butting someone!

"One does not die from a trifling cold!"

This expression, a quote from Jane Austen's Pride and Prejudice (one of my favourite books) ,quite sums up how the British regard falling ill. This is in stark contrast with the way the French treat being ill!

So I'm ill, I have a cold at present. Why do I have a cold? I don't know, probably because it is the season for it. My French friends' theories on why I might have a cold are because yesterday because of the strikes I walked to and from work. Going to work was not too bad because it was a lovely sunny autumn morning. Going back from work was slightly different especially as I had drinks with some friends and ended up walking home around 10pm. French conclusion as to why I am ill? Because I have "trappé froid" (caught cold).

In the UK we talk about "catching cold" too. As my grandma would say when looking at one of the skimpy outfits I used to put on when off out somewhere (note the expression "used to") "ooh you'll catch your death in that!". "Catching cold" to me always meant that there was a cold going round (in school for example) and that eventually you would catch it. I never understood it to mean "you will catch cold because it is cold" but here in France that seems to be the general interpretation. If I go out, (god forbid!) without a scarf and then later complain of a sore throat, my French friends will say "ah tu as trappé froid sur ta gorge" (you caught cold on your throat). The French seem to live in fear of "catching cold" and therefore make sure they are properly wrapped up (that's why you will see them with scarfs even in summer!). The Brits seem to accept that at some point you will fall ill with a cold and will just have to get over it, but this will in no way stop you from wearing your favourite party dress on a night out in the middle of winter!

Many companies in France offer free flu-jabs to their workers, the company where I work is no exception. When speaking to a new-ish British colleague about whether she had booked her appointment for her flu jab she said that she didn't intend to have it done. Why? "Well isn't it for old people and children?" Well generally yes but companies don't want their staff getting ill and taking time off so they would rather we get our jab. My British colleague's attitude was "if I get ill I'll deal with it!". So British but in a sense I completely understand her.

According to my mother I've become French because at the slightest sign of pain or illness I go to the pharmacy for vitamins and painkillers (she exaggerates!). That said, this is coming from the woman who, when I was a child, refused to take me to the hospital because she was fairly sure my sore foot wasn't actually broken. The next day she did take me to the hospital and was proven wrong (emotionally scarred me??!). However unlike my French friends, I generally prefer to battle out a cold with lots of honey and lemon and staying in bed where possible, preferring natural remedies rather than pumping myself full of drugs at the slightest sign of illness.

The first time I fell ill in France I went to my local pharmacy and said "I'm ill" or "je suis balade (sic)" ("malade", you know you can't get your 'm's out properly when you're ill). The kindly pharmacist asked me what my symptoms were. "well I'm bunged up" (isn't it obvious??). "Ah, vous avez le nez bouché? Mal à la tête? Le nez qui coule un peu? Mal à la gorge?"
"uh huh" (this kid was bright!)
So he comes back with about 5 boxes, I only went in for the French equivalent of Lemsip! (if only I had thought in advance and brought some from the UK). He hands me this huge bottle and explains that it is a spray to unblock my nose. Then he gives me some paracetamol with added vitamin C, another spray to unblock the nose. WHAT ON EARTH??? In the UK, I usually need a bit of eucalyptus oil, lemsip, a box of nice soft tissues and straight to bed. Now I had a bottle the size of a spray can to use once a day and a smaller spray for more frequent applications. So I took all of it, not entirely convinced it was all necessary and handed over my money. I did not quite understand why I should spray sea water up my nose just so it could come running out again but I gave it a go. It did of course work, but I obviously didn't need a whole big canister of the stuff!

I think now I'm somewhere between the French attitude and the British attitude. This cold won't kill me but I have somewhat grown out of "I'm tough and I can get over this" British-ness and when it comes to a choice between being brave or getting a proper nights sleep and not having a fuzzy head and blocked nose at work, I would rather help things along with a bit of paracetamol. Now where did I put my scarf??

I love France!

A few years ago, my mother bought me a lovely suede backed diary so that I could record my experiences in France as I had (more or less) done during my Erasmus year. On the first page I wrote "Dear Diary (I don't know why I said Dear Diary but I felt I had to address it to someone)
I plan to write about my experiences in France in my diary. I don't promise to write everyday but I hope I shall be able to write often".

When I returned to France, to begin with I had a lot of time on my hands and was able to write my daily experiences in my diary. As time went on however and I became more involved in teaching and studying for my course. When I got home in the evening I had less and less time to write anything in my diary and only really reverted to it when I was upset about something.

Having created this blog during the boring months of summer I have found that like my diary I have had less time to write. Also, having examined other blogs, I think I had a "bloggers crisis". Why exactly was I writing this? Who for? What for? Yes I live in Paris and yes Paris is amazing but there are so many blogs which write about living in France. If you want to find out about how workers in Paris trot down to the metro in the morning, picking up a warm croissant or pain au chocolat on the way and then arrive at work to air kiss gorgeous looking French colleagues then you only have to google Paris blogs (I exaggerate only a little) and I'm sure you'll find loads. Just to clear things up, in the same way as the French think we English have bacon, sausages and eggs in the morning, anyone who makes you think that the French pick up hot croissants and pain au chocolats every morning, drink espressos, smoke gaulloises AND remain wonderfully thin, is having you on!

Also many blogs are written by expats who are outside observers of French culture. Whilst I am undoubtedly outside, in the sense that I am not French, I feel that I have integrated the French society and have many lovely and faithful French friends. I loved the line in the recent film I went to see "Two days in Paris" where Julie Delpy says "ça fait deux ans qu'on est ensemble, donc on est un couple qui dure" (we have been together for two years so we are a couple which lasts). I have been living in France for 5 years and France was my new love. Like any great love at the beginning you think that everything is fantastic, soon enough you begin to see the faults and failings in your lover and if you can get past that and learn to accept the faults of the other, your love has a chance of lasting. Sure, France is not always fabulous and god knows the system is a nightmare sometimes, but which system isn’t? Like every expat I think I can say that sometimes I love this country and sometimes I feel isolated and a real stranger but generally after all these years I do still love it and do still want to live here. It is of course difficult for any person anywhere who leaves their home country (even if it is by choice) and goes to another country and tries to integrate into a new society. From the outside the French can seem cold and unwelcoming and the French system frustrating and bureaucratic but once you break the system and get to know the people you find that France is like any other country and the French are just as warm, friendly and fun as any people you could wish to meet. So whilst I can empathize with every expat who is trying to understand this country and its people, I say be patient and you will find exactly how great this country can be. I conclude with "Vive La France!" (of course don't be expecting me to be shouting that too loudly come Saturday! ;-) )

The Good Samaritan

I'm not much of a church go-er. I was baptized a catholic and for most of my life have followed that faith but for right or for wrong I haven't always seen the need to go to church, especially not any old church just for the sake of it. This changed when I moved to France for the first time. I felt lonely being away from my family and going into the church to pray or listen to the service was a comfort to me. I never understood the words of the service, I could recognize more or less the order of service but I couldn't really follow the words and there were no mass books available. During my first year in France, going to church became part of my Sunday ritual, especially as there was little else to do on a Sunday but more particularly because I found a really nice church near where I used to live. It was quite a modern building but the congregation was quite mature. However, the service was vamped up a bit, for example one day, after the gospel reading and a very short homily, the congregation was told to get into little groups and to discuss what the gospel had meant to them. I was invited into a little group of ladies who started talking enthusiastically about what their interpretation of the gospel was. My French was not very good so the best I could do was nod and smile and say "je suis d'accord". I agree. Despite the fact that I couldn't contribute much to the conversation the ladies were very nice and welcoming. I liked the service in this church even though I didn't understand much of it but I still enjoyed being part of it. My Sunday ritual was therefore: go to church, pick up hot croissant and pain au chocolat, as well as a baguette (which I learnt to pronounce as 'peng' it being the south of France and all); go home eat breakfast, go to launderette to do the week's laundry, make weekly telephone call to parents, then maybe once all that was done go for a wander around town. This helped to make Sunday's pass quickly and ease the solitude somewhat.

One cold Sunday in October I realized that I had no clean socks to go to church in. Also although I'd packed a few winter items, I had arrived in France at the end of August and until then had been able to wear light summery clothes. I didn't think anyone would notice and anyway I was going to do my laundry a bit later so I got dressed, put on a warm winter coat and went off to church wearing no socks. At church I sat down next to a little old lady. During the service the basket for the offerings came round. I put in a couple of francs (it was in 2001, France changed to the euro a few months afterwards) and passed the basket down the pew. The little old lady who had been sat near me threw a few francs and I took the basket back to hand over to the eucharistic minister. Once the basket had been taken off me the old lady grabbed my hand, instinctively I held her hand back because I thought she was looking for support, but instead she pressed a 50 franc note into my hand (the equivalent of 5 pounds sterling at the time). I looked at her in astonishment "C'est pour que vous puissiez vous acheter les chausettes Mademoiselle" she said pointing at my bare feet which were showing above my shoes and below my trousers. I tried to protest and explain to her that I was in no need of money to buy socks and that I would be doing my laundry later that day but despite my protests she refused to take the money back. I felt so touched but didn't quite know what to do with the money. I just smiled at the lady and thanked her for her generosity. I had two choices, either to pass the charitable act along and give the money to charity, or accept the gift as she intended it and go and buy myself some socks. And that was what I did later that week. I bought socks!

Being an English Rose

Being an English rose, and by that I make no allusion to my beauty (or lack thereof) but simply to the fact that I am pale skinned and have a typical English rose complexion, is not easy regardless of which country you live in. In England we are ashamed of our pale complexions, "pale is interesting" is not something that has ever taken off no matter how much we would like to believe it! When I go back to the UK all I see is tanned beauties, albeit the tan has come from the local highstreet tanning centre or a bottle of St Tropez, but nonetheless the typical pale English skin has been duly covered up. In France, being blond haired and blue eyed is interesting and attractive. Another thing is that most women I see wear very little face makeup and, as they tan naturally, fake tan can be seen a mile off (or a kilometre away if we're going metric!) so I wouldn't dare to try and use fake tan for fear of being ridiculed. Therefore I see no point in hiding the fact that I'm pale, even on the beach. Yes I hear things like "Ah c'est les anglais" when I dare to get into a bikini and show myself on a beach. They seem to think I have just jumped off the ferry whereas I have been living here for near on 5 years and over several summers I have tried desperately to make my skin change colour, alas to no avail (it will go pink or red but never a hint of tan!). In fact, I'm rather impressed at the way French women live with their skin. Whatever their skin problem they do not try to cover it up. Having suffered acne during my teenage years and early twenties, I've always been used to troweling on the make-up, but in France I noticed that people are often very discreetly made up. If there is something you do notice on French women, it is a tendency to emphasise their eyes and their lips with eyeliner and lip-gloss or lipstick respectively. I find myself studying French women on the metro (discreetly of course because my Mother taught me it is rude to stare!) but I fail to see any evidence of foundation and in fact many of them are infuriatingly naturally beautiful. This is probably due to the vast range of skincare they have available to them as well as the fact that one can oh-so-easily go and see a dermatologist simply by calling and making an appointment and not have to be referred by your normal doctor. I went through the NHS system and did see a dermatologist for a while (I was on the god awful Roacutane!) but could only ever get an appointment every six months. During my teenage years I had always believed that I had greasy skin and therefore used every industrially strong anti-bacterial product I could find to disinfect my skin. The result of this was that after the Roaccutane and the acne, my nose and cheeks were still rather red. I usually put this down to sunburn, cold weather, warm weather, a cold, heyfever or any other excuse I could find. This was especially amusing when I taught because children have a charming fashion of lacking totally in tact.

One day when I had just finished class and was waiting until after playtime to take the other class I decided to sit down in the playground and enjoy the warm weather. I was very soon surrounded by some of the girls from my class who came to chat to me and show me how well they could skip. One of the girls sat up on window ledge behind where I was sitting and began playing with my hair. 'Vous êtes belle et vous avez les cheveux doux Miss Rose' (pronounced Miss Roz),
'Why thank you Claudia'
'Pourquoi votre nez est rouge par contre?'
There it was. Straight to the point.
'Well' I began 'probably because it is quite warm today' I said, reaching for the famous excuse.
'Moi mon nez n'est pas rouge' she said matter-of-factly
'Yes, you are lucky. But also we have different coloured skin' I said, rolling up a sleeve to show my pale bare arm.
'You have lovely brown skin because you are French, I have white, pinky skin because I am English'
'Donc votre nez est rouge parce que vous êtes anglaise' said Claudia, pleased with her conclusion.
I decided not to continue the discussion.

This blunt and direct way of talking does not restrict itself to the children. Whenever I decided to venture into places like Galerie Lafayette to check out the skin care range I usually got pounced on by one of the shop assistants. When I tried to explain to them in French what I was after they immediately start contradicting me and headed over to the green cream section saying that I have to put on a green base to counter the redness. The result of this is two things, one I would look like Shrek and two I would have to trowel on even more foundation to cover the green stuff! No thank you!

After having been in France for a while and having finally sorted out my medical insurance, I decided to go and see a Dermatologist to see if she could sort out my skin. She took one look at me and declared that I had sensitive skin, that I should be using only the gentlest of products and that the fact that my nose and cheeks were red was not because I was English but because I had rosacea. She sent me off to the nearest pharmacist with a list of skin friendly lotions that I ought to buy as well as a prescription. From that day on, my skin and I have been friends, and I threw away all the industrial strength anti-bacterial face wash and replaced it with soft cotton and cleansing lotion. My skin routine drastically changed. Thanks to the same dermatologist, I was also able to have access to laser treatment at a fairly reasonable price. Three sessions later and my skin was transformed. My foundation was subsequently thrown out. I could show my real skin in public once again. Yes, I would always be an English rose, yes my face flushes when I'm happy, when I'm angry, when I'm tipsy, when I'm embarrassed, in fact my face is still a barometer for my emotions, but I now take a leaf out of French womens' books and I let my real skin show. Pale and interesting? Pale and proud!

Le Trench

Sat at the table, eating breakfast this morning, listening to the weather report on the radio. The weather report announced a chance of rain, ah I thought, time to put on my trench-coat. The trench-coat, or le trench as the French call it, is a Parisian must! As soon as there is a slightest hint of rain everyone will be out in their trench-coats. Traditionally trench-coats are supposed to be waterproof but most of the ones I have seen recently are anything but waterproof, yet for some reason when it rains, waterproof or not, a trench-coat must be worn. The trench-coat is a timeless classic, it has been a fashion item for years, which explains why it is so popular with French women. French women like classic clothes and the average French woman tends not to want to stick out from the crowds. More importantly they like to be chic and a trench-coat is chic! Most of the people I see on the metro wear black or beige trench-coats, which also explains its popularity with French women, le beige, a favourite, inconspicuous colour. However, this morning whilst observing my fellow trench-coat wearers, among the beiges and the blacks, I observed a chocolate brown trench-coat and even a red trench-coat, very daring! I have a beige trench-coat. For years I have fought the beige in France, as it washes me out somewhat, although I buckled and severely succumbed to black! But I had to have a beige trench-coat as I have several kinds of black coats and jackets. Whenever I hear that it will rain I'm almost excited to be able to wear my trench-coat and know that I'll be sophisticated and fashionable. So on a rainy morning, before leaving the house, I put on my trench-coat, place my Longchamps bag in the crux of my slightly bent arm, slick a bit of lip-gloss on to emphasise the pout, grab my umbrella and trot off to the metro, VOILA!!

Tu le kiffe ou quoi?*

When faced with the choice of watching a French film or a British/American film (ie English spoken) I will opt for the second eight times out of ten. When a British or American film is showing on the cinema I obviously refuse to watch it dubbed over in French and will only watch it in VO (Version originale – original version). The reason for my aversion to French films is that generally they are boring, I don't get the plot line, or more precisely I don't see the point in the plotline even if I DO understand it. When it comes to French comedies, the difficulty is that most of the comedy value will be in the use of words or the play on words, which even after all these years learning French, I have problems understanding. There have been a couple of French comedies which I have enjoyed but nonetheless I would still much rather see a British or American comedy. In spite of all this, from time to time I have fallen upon a French film, either by flicking through on television or when a French friend recommends a particular film when we go to the cinema, and I have to say I have been surprised and have found the film to be really enjoyable. The storylines were good, (I like happy films so when I say they were good, I mean they were heartwarming "feel-good" films), the acting was good, music, even a touch of comedy, everything!! Here are a few of my favourites:

1) Monsieur Batignole – a film by Gérard Jugot, he also stars in the film,
2) Comme une image – by Agnès Jaoui, she also stars in the film, along with Marilou Barry who I also like as she starred in another of my favourite French films…
3) La première fois que j'ai eu 20 ans
4) Jeux d'enfants – with Marion Cotillard who has recently starred in "La Vie en Rose" and I think is set to become Hollywood's next French star,
5) Je vais bien, ne t'en fais pas – by Philippe Lioret, starring Mélanie Laurent, - LOVED THIS FILM!! Has a twist at the end à la The Sixth Sense, although it is not at all a scary film!

So last night, when deciding what to watch (note that television in France is decidedly crap! If there is something decent to watch like a film or a television series it will of course be dubbed) I had the choice of Men in Black I (dubbed of course – Will Smith and Tommy Lee Jones just don't translate as well!), an American police series, a French film for television, or a documentary on Grace Kelly. I had pretty much resigned myself to the fact that Men in Black was the best option and was just flicking through the channels during the adverts before the film started when I fell upon the channel Arte. Arte is part German part French and is generally watched by those with a slightly more artistic taste, it is considered to be for the intellectuals. The film last night was called 'L'esquive" by Abdellatif Kechiche starring young actors Osman Elkharraz, Sabrina Ouazani and Sara Forestier. Firstly when I happened upon it I almost couldn't understand the French at all. The film is set in "les banlieues" ie the suburbs of Paris which are in fact more like a ghetto. It was in les banlieues where the riots began in 2005 making the rest of the world think that France was burning whereas in fact there were just a few riots. These are the areas which are very deprived and where most of France's second generation immigrant families live. Think Toxeth or Brixton in the 1980s and you get the picture! Anyway, this film is about a group of teenagers who decide to act out a play which they are learning in their French class. The play is by an old French playwright (Marivaux) and written in old French. The students' language when they are rehearsing the play contrasts with the way they speak in real life. Generally it is a film about a young boy who falls in love with a girl at school and becomes interested in the play in order to impress her. The story is interesting, touching and well interpreted by the actors. The film is filmed simply, almost like a documentary, as if the cameraman was simply watching these teenagers talking to each other, there is no back ground music, no special effects. At first I decided to watch the film to try and see exactly how much of the street-French I actually understood. Imagine if you will a foreign person trying to understand a think Glaswegian, Scouse, Mancunien or Brummy accent and you'll understand why it is not easy to understand banlieusian French. I was actually quite impressed by exactly how much I did understand which is either proof of how well I'm integrated or simply proof that I've been hanging out with people who speak a lot of slang! I intended to change channels but found myself drawn in by the story and fascinated by this view into life in les banlieues. In the film, the teenagers from the banlieues acted all tough when in the streets but really enjoyed rehearsing for the play and taking on the roles of lords and ladies. It reminded me of the children I used to teach who were from deprived areas of Bordeaux and similarly acted tough when in the playground or in the street but when in the classroom it was clear how much they enjoyed the activities and were really happy when they accomplished something or received a good mark. The story in the film focuses on the preparation of the play but also illustrates themes like love, friendship, poverty, police brutality, hardship. I'm no film critic but personally I rather liked "l'esquive" and would recommend it to others or in the words of one of the actors "Ouais, je le kiffe quoi!"

(kiffe= to like, *"Do you like it?)

La Rentrée

Children get so excited about "Going back to school". As the end of the summer holidays approaches they are already talking about which year they are moving up to and who their teacher is likely to be. When I was a teacher, this time of year was filled with excitement and expectation. Whether it was in the schools or at university, there was a buzz in the air and you couldn't help but get wrapped up in it. Everyone was excited to be back, to be with their friends, refreshed after the holidays. Whereas twenty years ago I would have been admiring my shiny new patent shoes, my nice new school uniform and my new school pens and pencils, this year, despite being much more "grown up", I find that I still enjoy this time of year even though I now work in an office. France literally shuts down over the month of August. Even in Paris, either people go away for around 3 weeks or, those who do not take their holidays at this time cannot do very much as most people are away over August. This may seem ridiculous to the rest of the world, indeed I confess I found it a bit strange myself, but it is one of the things one must accept when one lives in France and there is no point getting annoyed about it you may as well enjoy it. On the one hand, you can wonder about the missed business opportunities, being able to cash-in during the holidays, especially when you see that businesses, shops and restaurants are real sticklers for having their "congès annuelles" but on the other hand, the French may not necessarily be wrong about taking a proper break over summer, thus preparing them for the workload over winter. There is a nice atmosphere when people come back from holidays, they tour the offices and say hi to people and relate how their holidays went. Everyone looks happier. Everyone, (except me as I have very English un-tanable skin!) has a nice tan and it is clear that the weeks spent in the south of France doing very little has done them the world of good. Yes, not a lot of work will get done whilst people get used to being back, yes the happy holiday atmosphere will fade after around a week and yes in the public sector the days when they will be striking are already being planned, but for the time being I say, VIVE LA RENTREE!!

The candle burnt out long before the legend ever will

Ten years ago I was awoken by my Dad, his eyes were red and his voice broken when he spoke, "The princess Diana is dead, she was killed in a car crash in Paris". It was hard to come to terms with, difficult to believe that it had really happened. I, like the rest of the British population, was very upset about her death. That day, when I switched on the radio, every song was a slow and melancholy song and this continued over the weekend. Then when we watched the funeral a few days later, we really felt the impact of the sorrow of a whole nation. What we could not have predicted then is the impact this event would have on the royal family. Since her death we have watched her two children grow up into fine, handsome men. They have carried on her work and have followed her example. As a nation, I think we are very fond of William and Harry and are proud of them, as their Mother surely was. Diana was far from being a saint but she was a person who had a big heart and who dedicated herself to charitable works. She reached out to those really in need and showed them that she really cared. Britain may not commemorate her death again in the same way in ten years time but for today we once again remember the people's princess.

Why blogger?

I have been deliberating over this for a while and I have been inspired by blogs such as lapeiteanglaise.com and pollyvousfrançais as well as laminetteanglaise (all excellent blogs which have entertained me enormously!). Ok I realize laroseanglaise is not the most original name for a blog of an English lady living in France but it felt that it was the most appropriate given the circumstances.

I live in Paris. Many bloggers in Paris write about what a fantastic city it is, that is because it IS a fantastic city!! But for me it's not THE only city in France. I have lived here for a total of 5 years and have experienced three cities in all.

I wanted to create this blog for several reasons:

1) I have a terrible memory or rather I have a rather selective memory and remember things/anecdotes about the last few years from time to time and never bother to write them down.
2) I also often have lots of thoughts and opinions about the French and my life in France and as mentioned above never bother to write them down. I don't flatter myself that others are particularly interested in what I think, but I do think that some people may be bored enough to have a little read!
3) Because I want to see whether I can actually write and this is a warm up exercise for an idea of a book I have and maybe one day will actually right, although I have no delusions of it being a hop, skip and a jump from being blogger to writer.
4) Finally, in contrast, I think, to most other expats I have experienced three very different experiences over the last fives years: studying in French universities (Erasmus and then post grad), being a language assistant and finally the working life. I am 100% British, I came here completely of my own choosing, and before my Erasmus year had no particular connections nor affinities with France, but since my Erasmus year I have completely fallen in love with France and am on a one-woman mission to prove that I can make it work here. I therefore intend this blog to be an account of some of my past experiences and some of my present and future experiences with the hope that it may help anyone to happens to read it to understand better how the system works and the MANY differences between the French and British cultures.

As a disclaimer, I ought to mention that this whole blogging world is all very new to me and I have always been very crap with technology. So whilst I hope to make this blog a little bit more interesting over time with additions of pictures etc, the rest of it I think will be hit and miss and generally possibly not very high tech!

Anyway, you never know until you try!

Oh gosh, can't believe I have done it, after all this faffing around have finally set up a blog. I'm a blogger! I have lost my blogger virginity, started my blogging adventure, and who knows what will happen!