Musée du Quai Branly

 
French presidents seem to like leaving a legacy, normally cultural or intellectual (except Sarkozy). Mitterand, for instance, would be associated with the pyramide at the Louvre museum or the gigantic library (Bibliothèque). Chirac's legacy is the Museum Quai Branly. Located not far from la tour Eiffel, it is a museum dedicated to arts from Asia, Oceania, Africa, the Americas and other indegenous or non-western people (SouthPacific islands, Australia, NZ and Canada). Being of Asian origin, I immediately feel home in this museum which seems to put values in 'my people's' art so to speak (Chirac was said to be enamored with Japan and Africa).
The architecture of the new building is  very pleasant to look at from the outside (architect : Jean

Nouvel), and inside, long and narrow corridors shaped like a river complete with projected lights (actually words) simulating currents take you to different parts of the world. Gigantic objects from south America such as totems or other decorations for houses, statues from Indonesia and Africa, masks from Africa and other objects decorative or functional and jewelry from south America and from practically all Asian countries can be found in this museum. Being a gay man, I was particularly impressed by the statues from Nias (Sumatra island in Indonesia) which depicted men with huge penises (that seem to be in erection too !). There was also a pre-Dogon (Mali) statue depicting man and a woman in a single individual (the individual has both breasts and a penis). I think the museum has indeed achieved its goal, to present objects from non-European people for their beauty only (rather than anthropological or ethnograpic or scientific interests). These are objects to be savoured by the eyes and the heart of each visitor.

Chocolats

Even when I did not speak French well, I love saying Chocolats (pronounced : Sho - co - luh). Chocolate just sounds  sexy and romantic, sinful and good in French. Paris boasts a number of chocolatiers (chocolate makers/houses or artisans), including Patrick Roger, Jadis   and Gourmande, Fouchet, Gaudard and many more.

Chocolats supposedly is the antidote to depression. When you feel down, chocolats will pick you up like a strong lover. Indeed, people say they crave chocolats when they don't have lovers or boyfriends or girlfriends. And even if you have a lover, chocolats can spice up your romantic or sex life. Get the kind of chocolats that melt on his body/skin and you will be showing him a lot of love with your tounge.

My love affair with Jadis and Gourmande was like a fairy tale. At that time I had spent more than 3 months in hospital and eating bad industrial food for the most of it. I craved and craved good chocolats. This did not happen until my very best friend, the guy I think I used to be in love with came up to visit from the south. What did he bring me ? A box of Jadis and Gourmande chocolats. I swear, the second I bit into the chocolat I hear songs and was transported to a place where one could fly. It was that good. I remember trying so hard to control myself (and tried to only eat a few pieces each time), though not a complete failure, it was too hard to deny oneself such joy. Since then, I crave Jadis and Gourmande, who has several stores in Paris (and a web site).

A friend also introduced me to Patrick Roger. The gift came in a very sober and elegant box (turquoise green and black vs red from Jadis and Gourmande). And the elegance permeates the chocolates of Patrick Roger's. Whereas Jadis & Gourmande will dazzle you with different flavors (lime, passion fruit, coffee), Patrick Roger are more subtle but with incredibly rich tastes . If you get a box of chocolates from Patrick Roger, you will also marvel at the beautifully and artistically eye-pleasing pieces of chocolate. They are a visual work of art in themselves. The price is another difference between these two chocolatiers....Patrick Roger understandably more expensive.  Their boutiques in Paris ressemble high couture showrooms. Both artisans of course have huge collections of chocolates (dark, milk etc, ganache or pralines) and flavors (lime, strawberry etc).

Finally, there is a recent artisan chocolatier that I happened by chance in le Marais, Edwart. The

artisans are young and definitely creative. They are more daring than the more traditional artisans in their search for new flavors. My favorites include the japanese whisky filled dark chocolate. Yum. To illustrate their dare, last time I passed by their boutique, I had curry flavored chocolate ! They come in cute boxes and each piece is exactly bite size (smaller than those made other chocolatiers).

I buy Patrick Roger when I am in the mood of having a night listening to classical music, or reading a good novel. Jadis & Gourmande when I want to feel up and happy. And Edwart when I feel adventurous. Your pick !

Fabrics heaven in Paris : Marché St Pierre

Many Parisiens (or maybe French) are into home/interior decoration.  It's big business here. Many also like to decorate their home themselves. My friends actually go to fabric stores either to make their own curtains, cover their aging sofa or chairs (or have them done by a professional after choosing the fabric) etc. So, I got the bug too. When my sofa started looking rather tired, I decided that rather than buying a standard sofa cover I would get one that is my own. So, off I went to the most known place to get fabrics and other things I imagine one needs for sewing (there are stores on zippers, ribbons, buttons etc !). This area is located just next to the park at the foot of Sacré Cœurs.

But the most known and the biggest fabric store is le Marché Saint Pierre.  You may bump here into people (men and women) who just like sewing or decorating, interior designers or stylists alike. This shop is huge and has six stories and is supposedly the biggest fabric store in the world.  You could find any kind of fabrics that catch your fancy here (A floor for curtains, another for interior decorating, another for your sofas and chairs etc. Silk, velvet, cotton you name it). The building is old and it looks ancient. When you enter the store, don't expect a spanking interior...everything looks kind of old and the wooden floor creaks loudly as you walk. Even the people working there seem to belong to a diferent and more ancient era. But you would probably end up spending hours here admiring the different fabrics whose prices may surprise you (from extremely cheap to extremely expensive, never knew that fabric could be that expensive !). The people working there are also experts in their trade. They can give you really great advice when asked. I learn to appreciate the sensuality, the feel of fabrics ! I love watching how they cut fabric after you tell them how many meters you want: they make a tiny cut and then like godzila rip the fabric starting from the cut. And the results are perfect, exactly the x meters you want and cut totally straight. This store has been here (and probably has not changed, except for the fabrics they sell) for half a century already. Around le Marché Saint Pierre, you see other fabric stores, some selling what's called 'coupons' or left over or cut pieces of fabric for a price.

Paris Départ : Ronda, Spain

Travelling on the bus to Marbella from Malaga, I met a young American (rather handsome too !) who has been living in Marbella for a few months. He told me that two places anyone coming to Spain must see are Alhambra in Granada and Ronda. I did not make it to Alhambra this time (another reason to go back to Spain), but did visit Ronda. Ronda is a village situated very high up on the mountain about an hour drive from Marbella.


You have to be alert to drive there with the twists and turns of mountainous roads and as we found out as were coming back to Marbella, they get lots of fog too especially towards the end of the afternoon or early evening.

A plaza in the center

As soon as you enter the village/town, you notice that this is a very very old town even by European standards. Lots of cobble stone and very narrow streets that offer incredible views. From the park in the center, you can see the valleys below and the river that divides the city. The height and the fall of the gorge Rio Tajo simply are astounding, accentuating the cliffs on each side. Perced on these cliffs  you see little and not so little building perched on their sides hanging precariously (though already for centuries).



To get to our restaurant to eat lunch we lurched like drunken soldiers on the very steep cobble stone street but the reward once seated in the restaurant in term of views is incomparable. Ronda was ruled by Romans, Arabs and Berbers in the past. It is also known as the birth place of the corrida (bull fight). There is an ancient

A bull in front of the ancient area

bull ring in Ronda that you can visit. And each year there is the Ronda fest that features corrida of course.

Once satisfied with tapas and sangria and other delicacies, as the straight men would say, being with women (though alone too I would have done the same....!), we went shopping. I swear Spain is so cheap compared to France, hotels, food and drinks and even cigarettes (cost half of what they cost in France). We bought leather shoes for cheap and each came back to Paris with about 3 cartons of cigarettes each ;-) !

SIDACTION (Action AIDS/HIV)

This week in Paris, everywhere you probably see the sign of SIDACTION. Roughly translated it means, Action AIDS (SIDA in French). Throughout the week there are programs or telethons on tv and you see people on the streets asking people to donate to SIDACTION.

The organization funds (according to their website) many AIDS/HIV related activities, including prevention programs, access to treatments for people in need including in poor countries outside France, paying doctors treating AIDS/HIV patients in poor countries, and funding research on the subject of AIDS.
We probably think of HIV or AIDS as not so dramatic anymore. But, though people living with AIDS can now live a long time rather than dying quickly before the multiple antiretroviral treatments were discovered, it remains that many people living with AIDS are more likely to have a quality of life lesser than those without and are even more likely to be socially isolated than others (due to inability to work for example or stigmatization of people living with AIDS by others). And too many still die from AIDS. There are also secondary effects of the treatments that are not negligible and may even be as bad as the consequences of the HIV virus itself. Lastly, there is still no cure of AIDS. People remain seropositive though controlled by the medications they take. Wrongly, with the existence of these medications (that indeed are incredible as they render HIV/AIDS not a mortal disease, though sadly sometimes still considered as moral disease :-(  ), people start considering AIDS/HIV as almost a banal disease.

Talking to people I also observe a lot of misunderstanding still of HIV/AIDS. Hence, the prevention and information programs. Many do not make the distinction between being seropositive (having/carrying the virus VIH)  and being ill (having AIDS). Many people probably do not know that they have the HIV virus in their body. The virus can stay a long time without any effects that a person will notice (except, when a person just got infected, he or she will probably show symptoms like the common cold...). Years can pass before the virus makes itself known (by then already in the tens if not hundreds of thousands attacking the immune system of the person). People will then feel tired, lose weight and probably catch some infection that could be fatal given that the immunity system of the body is shot. Lab techniques can now measure levels of virus in the blood (viral load, the higher the more sick the person) and CD4 a type of white blood cells that protects the body from infection. Normally the level of CD4 should be upwards 500 to 1200 cells/mm3. A person is said to have AIDS when the CD4 count is below 200 and probably has a very high viral load. Commonplace infections (lungs or others) can at this stage be very life threatening as the body simply cannot fight the intruder.
Misconceptions may also concern how HIV may be transmitted. If many people now know that they cannot 'catch' AIDS by sharing cups or toilets ...other misconceptions remain. How many times have I heard guys I meet for a sex rdv say that they would like to fuck me raw and will pull out just before they come (they believe if they don't come in me, they will not give or get the virus) ? OK, probably not as bad as President Zuma (South Africa)'s assertion that one only needs take a shower to avoid getting AIDS... but still !!!!!

If medical research does get a lot of attention, social research on the subject is not to be neglected. The questions of what people believe and how these beliefs influence their behavior as well as the social and psychological well being of people living with HIV/AIDS are all too important for many of today's societies. In France around 7000 (new) infections are discovered each year. In Africa, access to treatments is still very minimal for economic and social reasons. There are also social taboos. Speaking to Asian gay friends, some of them express that they would rather die of AIDS than reveal their homosexuality and bring shame to their family....

To donate, you can go to SIDACTION website. I just did, even if not much (I figure I will cut down on my smoking and buy fewer packs of cigarettes at least for this month ....). Every little bit helps...

You know you've become a Parisian when ...

You muttered Merde under your breath when the pilot said it was raining as your plane landed in Paris. Before, the same announcement used to make you think of romance, walks in the rain with a soulful guy, and crossing the wet Pont des Arts under the shimmering street lights.

You did not notice that you just bumped someone on the sidewalk on rue Vieille du Temple in the Marais district in Paris. You used to turn around and apologized profusely with a big smile.

Without thinking, you move your foot to one side or the other to avoid dog poo that is still present on the sidewalks in some areas of Paris despite the law saying you have to pick up your dog's poo. You used to either have to constantly look down or throw away your shoes after stepping on a poo of a particularly sick dog.

After waiting a long time in line (a queue), you take your time to greet, joke and carry small conversation with the person serving you in the shop despite the long line still behind you. You used to try to be real quick in order not to make others wait.

You walk into a coffee shop and you say Bonjour loudly as a general greeting to those present already (some will answer Bonjour back, some will ignore you which you don't care. It's just become a habit like for all Parisians). You used to just walk to the counter or a table and wait to order your coffee.

You drink espresso all the time except in the morning when you drink coffee with milk. And, in the café, you order for them as 'un express' or un serré for the espresso and 'une creme' instead of café au lait, and quickly and efficiently to make sure the zipping waiter hears you. You used to wait politely for the waiter to notice you, which could take forever.

You're quick to help someone with little things, like holding the metro door from closing when someone attemps to rush on after the doors-closing signal sounds or giving a pen to someone who needs one as he/she is talking on the phone (you've also been listening to AND understand what he/she has been gabbing about on the phone).

You recognize the pickpockets as soon as you get on the metro and before the announcement saying 'presence of pickpockets' (no kidding, they do that now) by the metro conductor. Before, you probably would have greeted and smiled at these same pickpockets.

You still try to weasel in onto a crowded metro despite protests from other users.

You stay stoned face as some crazy person is harrassing other metro users and discretely move to another car to avoid the said crazy.

You only wear your tennis shoes to play tennis. You used to wear them everywhere just because they're so comfy. Now, you wear leather shoes to walk or go to the market.

You wear scarf to accessorize even when it's hot. And you spent an hour getting it to hang just right around your neck.

You participate in a protest or a march, especially when it's a nice day out. You used to just watch on the sidewalk.

You complain about how things are and then you complain some more when they change ...(from an American friend).

(UPDATES will be added as I get more tips from others....mostly from visiting American friends)

Paris Départ : Madrid

This past Xmas, I wanted to spend it somewhere. So, when friends (all girls) planned a Xmas in Marbella, I happily joined them. But I also had other agenda. I had not travelled much since I got sick. And though hard to admit, I was probably a bit more afraid to just pack up and go than I was before. Also, now I have to pack my medications which put a cramp to the idea of spontaneity in travelling that I always adhered to. But, life must go on. I want to make this trip as a step towards recuperating my fondness for spontaneous travel. Otherwise, what sane gay man would want to spend a week with 5 women ranging from not so young to mature and single or without their husband? 

Madrid metro from Barajas

So, the girls, sorry the womyn, left for Marbella (Malaga is the closest airport to go there). I left a few days later heading first to Madrid to have time by myself (the idea of spending a week with women, though fun, would require a preparation in the form of being with other gay males first). Madrid makes me think of Almodovar with  his wierdly wonderful movies often with gay or ambiguous male characters who are always sexy and appetizing. To make the séjour as gay as possible, I stayed in the gay hostel La Zona. It's  simple, clean and most importantly has very nice hosts (two quite
pleasant to look at guys). It is in a great location near Gran Via (a very lively center of Madrid and has great metro lines) and Chueca (the gay area of Madrid). Since you get your own key at the hotel, you feel like you're visiting friends rather than staying in a hotel. From Madrid Barajas airport, you can either take the metro or the bus to Gran Via (about 30-40 minutes, and just minutes on foot to the hotel).

First thing I wanted to do was just walk around Madrid. To see HAPPY smiley and noisy people. With gray and cold weather, Parisians were not at that time the happiest people on earth (though even when sun shines Parisians are not known to be the happiest people). It was lovely to go see people out and about late at night (Gran Via at midnight looks like rush hours in many other cities what with all the people and the noise they make). I took metro rides and walked all over (bought a 1 day tourist card that let you unlimited ride for the day on buses and metros, including the metro from the airport to town).

Near Plaza Mayor, I found a good little restaurant with the friendliest waiters with whom I managed to communicate even though they did not speak French or English. And we laughed a lot talking sign language of sort and mimes and charades. Unthinkable in Paris. The little restaurant (between Plaza Major and Puerta del Sol is called Jaleo.

Grilled entrecote

They have great grilled entrecote served with what looks like jalapenos along with a big glass of sangria. Their coffee con leche (with milk) is delicious too. The gay Chueca was  not jumping that night at least not outdoors since it's a bit cold.

High speed Spanish trains

Inside the Renfe high speed train

To get to Malaga, I decided to take the high speed train rather than fly. RENFE is the name of the railway company in Spain. The Madrid train station felt more like an airport than a train station. And indeed, the train itself I thought was better than French TGVs. Seated in Tourist Plus class, we were given candy and earphones to listen to music or watch the tv screens bolted to the ceiling in the center of the train every so many rows. I listened to music, not understanding what the hell was going on on tv (some soap opera that looked quite dramatic even without sound or understanding what is being said). There is a buy on board service on the train...a trolley service meaning that you can just be lazy in your seat and wait til they pass. The seats were incredibly comfortable. About 3 hours later I was in Malaga. Took my jacket off, walked out of the train station and said Hello to the Sunshine. Long time no see ! Sigh, it was already time to catch the bus to join the women in Marbella. Cooties !

French speak, again...and Frenchy hamburgers

Today, after all these years, I think my French has improved. Et heureusement (which means, A good thing ! or Luckily !). After all, it is possible that I still mumble incomprehensible French even after all this time in Paris, you know, especially now since there are so many opportunities to speak English and to just live your life here using English or even as if you brought your US, Australian life and plunked it on this Ile de France. Shops, restaurants, rental agencies that speak English or geared for anglophone clients can now be found in many places in Paris. That was not the case before. It was a necessity to speak French when I first arrived here. A good thing because it forced me to learn French quick.  I know I have improved my French since I now have dreams (not all the time, but sometimes) in French. And it does happen time to time that I can think of the word for something in French, but not in English though I know that I know that word. This means that the English word of the thing has become less accessible than the French word. Of course, this disappers in a matter of days when I go to the US, or even the UK (I say even because English accent, whilst pretty, is not always easy to understand for me). I also start showing a disturbing confusion between the languages used in my thoughts (the word/concept I am thinking of) and in my action (writing or typing the word). Happened a couple of times where I was thinking of the word "AND" but was typing "ET" on my macbook  before realizing the discrepancy in the language of thought and of action. I can reel off my cell number in French without thinking, but have to pause and think to say it in English. And the opposite for my landline number (ok, maybe it's just because I use my cell phone for my calls in France but my landline to call the US).

English is now everywhere in Paris, meaning even outside tourist areas. In bistrots where waiters would ignore you because your don't speak French before,  now often have waiters who speak English and seem to like doing so (ok, I probably should not exagerate either, but ...). Sadly, we also see fewer traditional aging men in black apron and crisp white shirt as waiters (very professional and you have to really earn their smile). Many waiters and waitresses are now young, speak English and smile !
Another sign that may indicate more acceptance of things English (or Anglo) is the mushrooming Hamburger joints. Yes, hamburgers. But, this being France, nothing like hamburgers found in fast food places. Indeed, these French joints vindicate their Frenchness by identifying their burgers as 'Frenchy' (the adjective the French think Americans and other English speaking countries use to designate Frenchness rather than just French.Or to just drive the point more).

Captain B.

They also insist on the quality of the meat, the bread and everything else they put in the burger as local and healthy, to distance their burgers from the most known but often considered junk food burgers of the golden arches ! The big distance can of course be found in the prices. A 'menu' Big Mac in Paris costs around 7 euros. Comparable serving of a burger, side dish (home made fries/potatoes) and a drink in Frenchy burger joints may cost you 3 to 4 times that.

Le Mal Barré

Hamburger Classique

A couple burger places that I have tried and liked are : Captain B (my favorite) in Ave Trudaine near métro Anvers and also Le Malbarré near République .
Note oct 2015 :
Captain B. is now closed apparently, replaced by another burger restaurant called Street art...

Paris walking and your feet (know a podiatrist ?)

Paris is best discovered on foot. This has been said a thousand times before. Or, these days, on rented bike (the Velib, see my other entry) on buses (huge network) and le métro (very extensive and in total apparently around 220 km long ! :-o). Nowadays, there are also the trams (mostly in the edges circling Paris along the peripheriques or ring roads) and Autolib (the electric car equivalent of Velib. You take a car for fractions of half hours and, like velib, you take a car in one place and return it in another place. The time is calculated from the moment you unplug the car to the moment you replug the car in your destination). Cycling, driving, riding on a bus indeed give one different views of Paris. Metro is essentially if you want to get anywhere fast and easy. If taking the metro, always check the website ratp.fr to see if there are problems on certain lines or stations closed for work or other problems such as, I hear this often, voyageur malade or sick passanger !. Buses allows you to observe what's going on from a comfortable height and comfortable environment. Seated on a window seat, you could peacefully contemplate the buildings that wizz by (never too fast, given the traffic in Paris thought buses have until now their own lanes usable also by taxis), or people watch bordering on voyeurism. Bikes are probably less peaceful as you have to watch for cars, buses and pedestrians (bikes are prohibited on pavements but can use the bus lanes to the annoyances of bus and taxi drivers). Walking of course puts you in the middle of it all in Paris. You might not have a complete view of everything like when you sit in a bus, but you definitely feel things more: the stress of the people, their happiness, their fear, and obviously their attitudes (gleaned from whether they act like they are the only people on this earth and thus the pavement belongs to them...you move aside or I'll bump you, or some even smile at you !). In Paris we do a lot of walking (even when taking the metro, you will walk to the station, up and down stairways since escalators are not always available). And walking has been credited to contribute to the cardiac health of Parisians despite their stressful life (as life would be in any large city) and polluted air. Indeed, Parisians apparently have healthier heart (physiologically speaking here) than people living in the countryside of France. In any case, you cannot but develop a love for walking once you come to Paris. In Los Angeles, my dream as a young boy was of course to own a car so I could zip anywhere (notably at that time, West Hollywood. The Rage was THE gay club to go then...I remember the letter e got short-circuited I guess and at night you see the name RAG instead of Rage lol). Walking was unthinkable. In my time, LA did not have the subway (and still minimal today) and the bus system would make you cry Hallelujah when you finally see a bus approaching after a long interminable wait. Walking was never an option or a possible means of transport that one considers. OK, maybe to see your neighbor, but that's it. Everywhere else it was by car. So, discovering the joy of walking was something new to me then (first in NYC, then Melbourne, then Paris. Paris by far is the best place to walk though). One thing you notice maybe is the number of podiatrists in Paris. Just walking in my neighborhood I find a few offices of podiatrists. Why asked I before. I know now the answer. Walking maybe fun, but it is could be hard on your feet. Lately, I have had bad back, pain on my hip etc. which I tell myself cannot yet be attributed to aging. I discovered via x-ray (done for other reasons) one of my legs is longer than the other (what ?). Apparently, this is normal, no one has exactly two same length legs. But on the x ray, one leg was longer more than 1 cm compared to the other. If walking a lot, you may feel the consequences over time. So, I was sent to see a podologue or foot doctor, I guess (podiatrist ?).

Many are private practitionners, but I was tipped to go to a podologie school where you are seen by students and their professor and can be measured for insoles (sole to insert in your shoes) to correct potential problems associated with walking. The examination takes longer because these are students practicing (but supervised) what they are learning. But you do pay less than going to a private practionner and, for me so far so good. I am loving walking Paris by night or by day even more with these soles in my shoes !

Stevens-Johnson and Lyell Syndromes

You probably never heard of the syndrome Stevens-Johnson or Lyell. But you should. Before it's too late. These are syndromes due to a severe allergic reaction to medications (that can be, in principle, any medication, but statistically more likely due to sulfamide antibiotics, allopurinol etc.). I had to live through this syndrome and almost died in the ICU (Réanimation in French) at hospital Bichât in Paris. For me the cause was a sulfamide family antibiotic. The syndrome first develops with skin eruption, fever and eruption of the mucus parts of the body (eyes, mouth, anus). To describe what I was like, it was as if I had survived severe burns. But from the inside (indeed the severity of the reaction is often described as percentage of burn). My skin was coming off (necessitating specific care to prevent infection which is a huge risk as skin protects us from nasty intruders), my mouth was an open wound. And my eyes. I still have traces of this experience in my eyes as during the healing process, the cornea stuck to the mucus parts of the eyes. These and other possible consequences could be severely debilitating. I was lucky as I only had, relatively speaking, minor traces, but there are others who were so handicapped that they could not work anymore or live a life as before. Many doctors are probably not familiar with these syndromes either (they make mistake them for other skin eruption conditions), which means that a patient may not get the care he or she needs. And early care of the syndrome does have positive effects in term of traces and survival. The two syndromes have mortality rates between 30 and 40 percents. It is rare (about one person in a million in France). The long term effets, aside from obvious physical consequences, include psychological ones such as post-traumatic stress. In Paris, Henri Mondor Hospital in the suburb of Creteil is considered to be the best to treat these syndromes. They have the best MDs and dermatologists who specialize in care of and do research on the syndromes. There is also an association for survivors of the syndrome in France (Amalyste). I read experiences as told by survivors of the syndrome. I take my hat off to them. They are very brave people who fight through a very difficult experience and continue to fight despite all that they have to live with following the syndromes.