Daily Life with Poetry

This photo was taken on a Metro train somewhere beneath Paris. I took it because in the front of the car on the right hand side we had a standard subway advertisement. However on the left hand side we see a white panel with a blue field. Sadly my phone did not have to resolution to capture the words, which were a poem describing a person's need for poetry like a daily vitamin.

Here is another poem, this time on the platform. I took this photo for Eric, but it illustrates my point here today.

Je suis un enfant de partout

un enfant de Paris, de Cotonou,

un enfant des montagnes

des plis rouges d’un pagne.

Je suis un enfant des nids de moineaux,

de Mulhouse, de Baltimore,

des petits bateaux de la baie de Rio

et pire encore

je suis un enfant de quelque part

né de l’amour entre la chance

et le hasard.

Un enfant avec un nom,

un prénom,

mais un enfant qu’on appelle Terrien

parce que, sans moi,

cette planète n’est rien.

I have different photos to show the incredible flowers in public places, but I think these things - public poetry, flowered towns - are the real genius of French urban dwelling. We have good baguettes in America now, but we haven't yet made as much of an effort to add art in our lives. I wish we'd do more of it.

SuperBad

This evening we were walking home from looking at yet another apartment when we saw the most amazing thing. We heard them before we saw them and so we turned to see 4 drunk policemen driving their squad car in the bus lane with the lights flashing. They were giggling and one of them was singing Star Wars music over the crowd control mic, but collapsing into fits of giggles as he passed.

If they hadn't been wearing their uniforms I'd have sworn that cop car was stolen but they looked the part, even if they weren't acting it.

Signing Up for Daycare

It's sure not easy! I tried to get on the waiting list today but was turned away. We never made an original copy of our lease, because we did the whole document electronically from the States, and that was nearly enough to derail the whole thing forever. Luckily we were saved by a power bill, which was an original. I swear those bills are like gold here.

No, what eventually did us in this time was the fact that I didn't have our tax statement. Well, we just arrived, we haven't paid any taxes yet. No problem, she tells us. There is a form and a person for that, I just go to the Tresor Public and declare that we haven't paid any taxes yet. They fill out a form that says literally 'zero' and I bring that back.

Sigh. OK...

The funniest thing about it was that there were some printer repairmen right next to the desk I was at. They jump right in to sympathize with my frustration and laugh about how ridiculous the French administration is. But it was as if they were proud of it at the same time!

Dry Super Eagle

I didn't get a photo of the man wearing the t-shirt emblazoned with the phrase "Dry Super Eagle" but he clearly thought it was the coolest t-shirt ever.

Here are some more that have made me smile, note that these are all photographed in Paris in the last month or so...

"Say it OUT"

I know the 80s are back in style but this t-shirt just reminds me of why that style went out in the first place.

"Ollinkarl Always Grow UP!! It keeps running by your pace."

 I don't know what to say about this tank top. I'm almost tempted to buy it because it's that bizarre.

"ATTENTION!! DON'T LOOSE your garbage"

This is a child's t-shirt and when we're low on diapers I have a similar thought, but I don't think they really meant "loose" unless they've seen my son's diapers?

"North California Kids meeting every week Sport & Vintage"

 As a Northern Californian I'm happy to see that our brand is still strong, but what in the world does this t-shirt mean?

Bad English tshirts are not a new thing here, but now that I'm here longer I get to enjoy more of them.

Ratatouille

They are terrible quality, and embarrassingly cheap, but I am super excited about my new ballet flats. My son loves the faceted bead eyes, and he's been testing the ears by pulling on them.

It's silly but they make me smile. Can't wait to wear them with my black sheath dress, an elegant scarf, and two little mice on my feet. Hah!

French Boy Scouts in the 9ème

I haven't been in yet but I have been very impressed by the quality of the old-school outdoor gear in the window at Carrick, They seem to cater to adults too but they have a particular focus on younger boys, the knot next to their name is a clue, and all the books in the window by Baden-Powell is another - this seems to be the Scout shop. What is notable is how non-posh it is for Paris, dirty windows, mish-mash of merchandise. It is the closest shop I've seen in Paris to Boston's legendary Hilton's Tent City. I can imagine Eric and I will be back before too long!

Things I Like Right Now

In no particular order I thought I would share some of the small things that are making life a little sweeter these days. None of these matter in the big scheme of things, but they make me happy nonetheless.

Our apartment has an electric juicer and the local market sells enormous bags of juicing oranges for 3 Euro. We can have fresh-squeezed orange juice any day, and it makes my day!

Not only do we have a washing machine but we have not one but two heated towel racks. One is in the bathroom but the other is in the kitchen, right by the washing machine. With the g Diapers that we brought over from America is it very easy for me to keep Eric in soft dry diapers. I definitely want a heated towel rack when we go back to the States.

Similarly, the people who live here have a clever dining table. It's two identical tables pushed together. What this means, though, is that they can be separated and reconfigured, making a buffet for a cocktail party or storing one on top of the other. The variety of configurations is appealing and I want tables like this in my future home(s). The only change I would make is to add a latch on the bottom so that when they're put together they stay flush together. Sometimes I worry about the flowers in the center of the table.

Mmmm. French pastries. An obvious way to make the day sweeter!

Two thoughts this morning

1) why does the Poste have so many employees (three at my local branch) involved in greeting the customers, when they only have one to process the transactions? It seems to me a reallocation is in order. Today I was enthusiastically greeted by the elderly lady (in truth she just wanted to see Eric's smile) but in the time it took to say hello we ended up in line behind an African man after me who was sending money orders home to his extended family. I only wanted to buy post card stamps, so you can imagine how that friendly hello turned into less friendly feelings...

2) my friend in Boston was concerned that her Sophie the Giraffe was a counterfeit for a variety of reasons including her spots. On that count she should rest easy, all giraffes are individually painted with a guide that can shift and so no two Sophies will be identical...

Art Gallery for Children

They say there is everything in Paris, and it's true. My friend Juliette pointed me to an art gallery for children that also has events like singing and storytime. It's called La Maison des Contes and we'll be headed over there, near the Hotel de Ville, soon. I'll update with a review once we've checked it out!

Louvre!

We had our first family night at the Louvre last night. It was good fun. Eric slept for the first bit, which was good because it was a bizarre exposition by J. M. G. Le Clézio. We couldn't find a major theme to the exhibit and I'm gratified to learn that there was none, it was intended to be a throwback to the 'cabinet of curiosities'.

When we got upstairs to the French paintings there was a concert going on. It was an amazing soprano accompanied by a single guitar. I'm not one for opera-style music in general, but this was magical. She saw Eric and smiled and sang for him... he had awoken and couldn't take his eyes off her. Daddy and I settled in on a bench and enjoyed the rest of her singing. It appears that others were waiting for a turn, or perhaps they'd already performed. We moved on to the next gallery when this lady and her guitarist had finished their set.

In the next galleries Eric was enthralled by Tête de Lionne, laughing out loud several times while we were looking at it together. Then he wanted to walk. And walk. And walk. Good thing is, at the Louvre that's no problem! Mommy and Daddy eventually got tired so we let him just flop on the floor and pull himself up on the guard rails. That's when things got funny because some tourists thought he was more fun than the French Paintings and they started playing with him, taking his picture, etc. Eric had no fear whatsoever and was happy to have these strange women play with him and help him stand.

After our time at the museum we walked over to Pompidou to a creperie we like. It's simple and easy and child-friendly (though they don't have high chairs, no one does). Daddy got the menu with a crepe complet and a sugar crepe. I got the Brestoise, which had cheese, mushrooms, potatoes, tomatoes, etc. in it.

Then, thrill of all thrills, Daddy walked Eric home and let me take a Velib'! Oh it was glorious floating through Paris with the wind in my hair! I'm a mommy now, about to turn 35, but riding along alone some teenage boys called out to me from their car. This old lady was secretly thrilled...

It was a nice evening!

Getting Our Bearings

We haven't written much because we're still just getting our bearings. Saturday Eric and I went to sleep at 6PM and slept straight through to 8AM! We awoke feeling like new people, but new people who still need a lot more sleep...

We finally have a bank account. Daddy went back to the bank with a real electric company statement saying we live at our address and have an account with them but since we just arrived they have not yet sent us a bill for the electricity we're just beginning to use. The electric company assured us that this was the legal equivalent of a bill. The bank said that isn't good enough, so in anger Daddy left and went next door to the luxury bank. We will pay 8 Euro a month to have an account but at least we'll have an account. He was sorry because he wanted to patronize the bank that sponsors the Tour de France but they just made it too hard on us.

Eric now has a nanny. She comes to the house, to make life easier for him, and they are getting to know each other this week. It's wonderful watching him watch her speak French, it's as if you see the wheels turning in his head. He's having a hard time adjusting to the time, the place, and the language, so I'm glad we're not adding another new place to all of this. Learning about childcare in France has been interesting. She will be declared, and that costs more (6 weeks paid vacation each year!) but we get 40-50% (reports differ) of her salary back as cash, and the rest is tax deductible. There is no need to plan ahead and create a flexible spending account or anything like that. It's just there for the asking.

On Monday we went to an expat playgroup I found through Message Paris. This is specifically a group for babies his age in our neighborhood. They defined parallel play, but all the same I felt that Eric was relieved to know that there were other English-speaking babies his age right down the street. We'll make a point of going every chance we get. They also helped me orient to the various opportunities here. It seems the most popular venue for outings with babies it the Aquarium, just across from the Eiffel Tower at Trocadéro.

Eric is practicing his French

OK, I am posting this photo because I know this entry isn't all that interesting. I hope to have a more exciting update soon!

Travellin' Grandpa

A pair of single guys ready to take Paris. Watch out ladies!

We picked up my Dad on our trip to the UK and he's been with us in Paris which has been wonderful. I don't think I would have had the stamina to finish the move without the cavalry having arrived. He's gotten some good bonding time with Eric so it really has been a win-win.

Dad showered in our new Parisian shower and reported:

"It reminded me of a bit of folklore: 'White man build big fire, sit way back. Indian build small fire and sit real close'. French showers are plenty warm so long as you get good and close!"

 He's right, it is warm and comforting, just a bit different from American showers. The towel warmers though - Europe wins for those.

Yesterday they went out to Champagne to tour the houses and taste some bubbles. Eric was an angel the whole time. I swear he's not that way all the time, but he does seem to sense when he needs to behave and when it's ok to fuss. Hopefully he'll continue that! I stayed home to work but got to experience it vicariously through their report. Grandpa was particularly taken with the Cathedral in Reims. They toured Taittinger and noted the prodigious output of a vineyard - 288.84 hectares of vineyards generates X million bottles of champagne. (will update when I confirm the actual quantity) Impressive! They also really enjoyed the Roman caves where the champagne is aged. I hope to get a photo from them to post here.

Settling In

Photo taken as I composed this post, awkward framing to include both the view over Paris and draft post.

We are FINALLY in our apartment, and I can breathe easily again. What a long journey it was. Looking out my window from my desk here I see the rooftops of Paris and I think that with another week or two of sleep I'll start to think that all of this was worth it.

Eric has been a trouper through the whole ordeal. Yesterday he officially started really crawling, coordinated, on all fours. Perhaps he's been wanting to do that for a while and we were just moving too much for him to practice? Or perhaps he somehow knew that now he gets to finally be a baby? Either way he's everywhere now, exploring the world of this apartment. I am so happy knowing that he can, and safely.

It is a little thing, but now we have a washing machine in the apartment I can finally really use my stash of gDiapers. We brought ours over from the States, but the same idea is available in France as Hamac (but like everything, more expensive). I particularly like that we mostly just wash the cloth insert, not the entire cloth diaper. They dry, with the rest of our laundry, on the towel racks in the bathroom and kitchen. I feel so much more ecological not hauling home disposable diapers so often. Eric is off with Daddy to tour Champagne houses with Daddy and Daddy's friends today, so he's wearing disposables. We are not crazy! But while Eric's feet are getting bigger, his footprint just got a bit smaller.

On the other side, we're still trying to get a bank account. Daddy's got direct deposit from his work going there, and they have his first paycheck, so we can't just give up in frustration and walk away. Basically they keep demanding new paperwork and then waiting weeks to declare it isn't good enough. Daddy says he can see that they physically possess our Carte Bleue cards, but will not turn them over until he produces a power bill with our names on it. While frustrations with that tempted us to do something with Photoshop, in the end we were able to get a bill and he went to finally get our cards and access to the money, but guess what? January 9th is a bank holiday. We tried to work out what they were celebrating, Google tells me that "The Tokyo Stock Exchange is shut on Monday for the Coming of Age Day public holiday" or it is possible they are celebrating with the Philippines "The Feast of the Black Nazarene"? Oh well, we'll try again tomorrow.

A much more minor note but one I want to remember - why does French laundry detergent have so much fragrance? I've tried three varieties now (none that I've bought myself) and all are very heavily perfumed. I need to find some fragrance-free detergent somewhere.

To celebrate finally settling in, last night we had a goat cheese, pine nut, and fresh basil tourte, and crepes with homemade plum jam (a Christmas gift from our UK trip, thanks Avril!) and coconut yogurt. It was a celebration indeed. The recipe for the tourte is in French, and is from before I started keeping track of where I got them so I can't give it proper attribution (Elle À Table?). But here it is:

Tourte au chevrotin, au basilic, et aux pignons
4 pers.
Préparation: 20 minutes
Cuisson: 40 minutes

2 ouefs + 3 jaunes
10cl de lait entier
10cl de crème fraîche fluide
350g de chevrotin à 45% de MG
80g de pignons
12 feuilles de basilic (though I add more and have yet to find an upper limit)
Noix de muscade moulue (ideally fresh grated)
350g de pâte brisée
20g de beurre (forgot this last night, no problem)
Sel, poivre

Accord: Côtes-de-Provence rosé, servi de 8 à 10°C. (we had a nice white, it was good too)

Battre au fouet 2 oeufs et 2 jaunes avec le lait et la crème fraîche. Ajouter le fromage émietté, les pignons, et les feuilles de basilic finement ciselées.
Assaisonner de sel, de poivre, et de muscade.
Beurrer un moule à tourte. Étendre les deux tiers de la pâte et la disposer au fond du moule. Y verser la préparation au chevrotin et couvrir avec la reste de pâte. Dorer avec le jaune d'oeuf.
Entailler une petite ouverture au centre de la tourte puis enfourner à 180°C (th6) pour 40 minutes de cuisson.

Face my fears the very first day

I had two fears about moving my baby to Paris:

1) finding adequate medical care
2) that he might fall out of one of the large open windows

We can check number one off the list. Nothing like facing one's fears the very first day!

Probably due to jet lag, or in retrospect because he was sick, Eric had a hard time settling down for his first night in Paris. Eventually I swaddled him so that we all could get some sleep. That always works like a charm, sending him off to dreamland with a smile.

In the morning I woke to find him very hot. Very very very hot. I immediately un-swaddled him and tried to help him cool off. While I am still nursing I knew that the move would be too overwhelming for that so we have some formula. We agreed to go to the bar next door, use their bathroom, have our breakfast croissant, and give Eric some cool formula to try to cool him down. He sucked down that bottle like I've never seen before. I started to relax until he threw it up faster still. Ugh. So here I am in a Parisian café with a sick baby and a pool of vomit - so much for a new, glamorous life!

I asked the bartender for some napkins, which he was reluctant to just hand over to me. They were nice paper napkins, maybe they are really expensive? I think we were both confused by each other. I started mopping up the mess when he saw what I was doing and came over to take care of it with proper cleaning equipment, he was super nice about it. Maybe he has a child himself, because he was that understanding. We left an American-style tip because I didn't think vomit-cleaning was part of the "Service Inclus".

We went back home and took Eric's temperature. Ugh - still 103.5 Fahrenheit. We're going to a French hospital, NOW. Of course the nearest hospital couldn't see him, they sent us out to a pediatric hospital further still. When we got there they made me strip him down to his diaper, to help him cool off. We waited for about 20 minutes, then saw a nurse. There were some scary looking maladies in that waiting room so I was glad to get called in! The nurse checked him over and gave him some Paracetamol, which he couldn't get enough of (strawberry flavored).

We waited about another 20 minutes to see the doctor. He was very patient with Eric who at this point had lost all patience and was screaming to wake the dead. The doctor sent us upstairs for a chest x-ray. That took about 15 minutes, and we went back down to have it interpreted by the doctor. He saw evidence of a lingering chest cold (we knew Eric got sick when Daddy had his shoulder surgery) so he gave us a prescription for antibiotics, packaged up the x-ray film, and sent us on our way.

Hospital ER visit with bonus chest x-ray = €85
Ten day supply of infant Amoxicillin = €22
Both will be reimbursed by our health insurance when the paperwork is done, not that I care at those prices! We were out of the hospital by noon with a baby whose outlook was much improved. I can say with certainty that while going to the hospital is not any more fun in France than in the USA, it's no more difficult either. The specialized language was a bit of a challenge but our doctor was Italian anyway so none of us were native speakers.

As a result of that visit I got a new iPod app - GlobeConvert. In the future it will be easier to convey the results of my American thermometer, and I can rest easy knowing that one of my fears in moving here was unfounded. Hurray!

Off we go

After months of preparation and weeks of couch surfing with work to do but no apartment from which to do it, finally my infant son and I boarded the plane for Paris. Little Eric turned 9 months old on the flight so I like to tease him that mommy took him to Paris for his birthday. That will be a tough precedent to follow!

After all the stress of juggling the move the actual flight was easy. Eric didn't sleep much and so I didn't either, but I had a very nice older French couple next to me and they doted on Eric the whole flight.

Yes, he is that happy after his first international flight!

Daddy was already in Paris and he met us at the airport. We had three large duffles of clothes and toys and housewares, one roller bag filled with all the valuables I didn't want to check, a diaper bag, and the gate-checked stroller. This was supposed to last us the next few months at least, and is about the same amount of stuff as some Americans bring to France just for vacation so I didn't feel too badly, but it was a challenge getting it all to the airport RER for the train into Paris. I was happily surprised by the help we got from people along the way, several times now someone has just come along and grabbed the front of the stroller to get it up or down stairs so I don't have to take the baby out and fold the stroller, which is just so wonderful of them. This would NEVER happen in Boston, probably because people would be worried about being sued should something happen.

Eric is still on three naps a day so he doesn't really seem to have jet lag. The most challenging daylight adjustment has been to the lack of light here. It's fully dark at 7AM, just barely getting light at 8AM. Daddy has a long commute in the dark each morning, we're looking forward to the days getting longer.

We are still in a temporary apartment. We found it, and our longer-term apartment, on Paris Craigslist. This current one is NOT recommended, so renter beware - besides the traditional Craigslist scams you can still end up with an apartment so run down that the toilet is all but unusable. Ugh. Not much longer 'till we can finally settle down.