Finally things have calmed down a lot. I am so tired of working, searching for an apartment and life in general. The new French president talks about working more and earning more, with all the law reforms that supposedly will take place. Yes, brilliant as an idea, but already I am working day and night and cannot fathom the idea of working even more (and cannot, even if I want to!).
The thing that really ticks me off is that I don’t remember ever having worked so hard in my life. What’s more, I don’t even think that I am more productive and sometimes think that I am even less productive than when I worked less. Many of our time indeed is spent negotiating how to do our work (calming down colleagues who get nuts thinking we were up to some no good or something that could have negative impact on them in comparison which seems to lead to the idea better make sure others do as little as me), leaving not much time to do the work itself (and too tired).
Working environment cannot be more different between Australia or the US and France. If the default assumption among my American colleagues was trust (for example, I cannot make it to the meeting, and I don’t expect that I will be fucked over just because I was not there), here the assumption is distrust and méfiance. Meetings become extremely important because everyone expects to get the worst end if not present. But of course the important decisions have been discussed outside among cliques. But this does not prevent everyone to have their say in very long discourse that goes right, left, up and down until everyone including the speaker often forget what is being talked about. This explains why meetings tend to drag on and on. And what’s surprising is that often whilst someone is talking the others would discuss loudly among themselves!
As is the rule in French conversation, people don’t wait for a gap to jump in verbally. No, they just speak louder and drown the other speaker (who in turn would turn up the volume too). This will take some time to master for Anglophones who tend to wait for a gap (and of course, among Anglophones, they say that in conversation, the opposite of "speaking" is really "waiting", and not "listening"!).
Back to my complaint, now I work much more for less of a salary than what I had when I was more junior in other countries that seem to pay their workers more. But, I tell myself, I am in Paris (and I look longingly at all the lovely apartments that those moneyed or well connected seem to have). And Paris is Paris is Paris!
That’s probably what you’re thinking too, complaining when one lives in Paris? Actually, these are the moments when I remember fondly being a tourist in Paris. Then, Paris was indeed the romantic city that holds a lot of mysteries, the Parisians did not bug me because you project onto them your ideas formed from films and novels (charming, secretive, daring, impulsive, but always romantic). Well, the more you know them the less you rely on these images and, frankly, like everywhere else, the reality often lags behind the ideas…Indeed sometimes I see a person that would activate the image I used to have of Parisians, but the person has to really fit this image...otherwise, it's just other people like me doing boulot, métro, dodo (translation: work, subway, sleep).
Wednesday, December 12, 2007
Monday, December 3, 2007
Aging in Paris
Sitting in a Paris café and watching people go by or the other clients, one cannot help but think about things and be a bit reflective (like, when is the arrogant waiter going to ever notice me?). One day, at Place de la Marie in the 4th arrondissement, I watched a group of old ladies sitting on a bench in front of the café, talking, laughing and just passing the time in each other’s company. Everyday after that day, I saw them on the same bench at the same time. I started thinking about growing old. Yes, something that gay men fear most of all. How do you expect to land Mr. Right with wrinkled skin, sagging ass and soft erection? Worse yet, with failing vision, you would probably have a hard time spotting Mr. Right even if he was a mere meter from you.
What getting old means
I wished now that people had told me more about getting old. So many
things that I did not anticipate or expect that their sudden appearance can put anybody in a light depression. I noticed my sight was going when I had a bit of trouble reading the small map of Paris métro. I used to love this little map that fits into my wallet. Now, I need a map the size of Manhattan to easily read the names of the station or buy a magnifying glass and keep the little map in my wallet.
Gay men, like adolescents, are avid sms users too which are practical to set up sex RDVs. But now I am obliged to buy the high tech and rather large cell phone because the little cute ones (yes, size does matter, though for once, the smaller the better) that we like so much are becoming too difficult to read!
To top it off, how many evenings have I spent at dinner table without my glasses (thinking I look cuter without them) blind as a bat conversing with someone that looked cute only to find out he was far from it when I took a peek with my glasses whilst he was asleep next to me in my bed?
Being old was something that scared me and of which I tried to think as little as possible. I could not imagine being 30 when I turned 21, let alone turning 40. In subways and buses I would look at old men thinking that I would NEVER get that age. This is an interesting phenomenon as I often imagined myself being rich (unlikely to happen), yet never imagined being old (sure to happen). What does that say about how we think of ourselves in the future? I looked at older gay men in bars thinking that at their age I would probably be at home watching tv with Mr. Right with whom I would have bought a house, a car and raised a dog together. Wrong. I still frequent gay bars looking for Mr. Right and often end up with Mr. Available, still don’t own a house and what’s more I am getting kicked out of my miniscule apartment in Paris. Life can be so cruel!
Being old, being wise?
I don’t know about wise, but certainly old means you know more than you care or ever want to know. The day I finally FELT I perfectly understood the phrase Youth is wasted on the young I knew I did not belong to this group any more. Worse, I very nearly physically felt the saying Now I get up with a stiff back and a soft dick (instead of the other way around!). So, we know more with age, but this is the knowledge that I can do without really.
In most gay circles, being old means you’re finished, done, out. That’s probably why many gay men act young despite their wrinkled skin and sagging behind. They still wear tight jeans (at least in Paris) with t shirt that is at least 2 sizes too small. They shaved their head. They wear the latest Converse on their feet (Hey, it’s like looking in the mirror, writing this).
However, being older does have its advantages. We don’t get all worked out thinking about what other people think of us. We know who we are. Having been there and done that, there’s always something in our past to which we can turn to deal with any situation. We get out of uncomfortable situations more easily and by being nice! A concrete example, after making love and needing my beauty sleep though the guy I was with seemed to still be keen on playing, I probably would not have known what to do when I was young. Now, I can say in my most Blanche (from the Golden Girls, for you who are not of age to know this wonderful series) voice if I could call a taxi for him…Hey, service with a smile! And I assure you that I did not learn that in Paris!
What getting old means
I wished now that people had told me more about getting old. So many
things that I did not anticipate or expect that their sudden appearance can put anybody in a light depression. I noticed my sight was going when I had a bit of trouble reading the small map of Paris métro. I used to love this little map that fits into my wallet. Now, I need a map the size of Manhattan to easily read the names of the station or buy a magnifying glass and keep the little map in my wallet.Gay men, like adolescents, are avid sms users too which are practical to set up sex RDVs. But now I am obliged to buy the high tech and rather large cell phone because the little cute ones (yes, size does matter, though for once, the smaller the better) that we like so much are becoming too difficult to read!
To top it off, how many evenings have I spent at dinner table without my glasses (thinking I look cuter without them) blind as a bat conversing with someone that looked cute only to find out he was far from it when I took a peek with my glasses whilst he was asleep next to me in my bed?
Being old was something that scared me and of which I tried to think as little as possible. I could not imagine being 30 when I turned 21, let alone turning 40. In subways and buses I would look at old men thinking that I would NEVER get that age. This is an interesting phenomenon as I often imagined myself being rich (unlikely to happen), yet never imagined being old (sure to happen). What does that say about how we think of ourselves in the future? I looked at older gay men in bars thinking that at their age I would probably be at home watching tv with Mr. Right with whom I would have bought a house, a car and raised a dog together. Wrong. I still frequent gay bars looking for Mr. Right and often end up with Mr. Available, still don’t own a house and what’s more I am getting kicked out of my miniscule apartment in Paris. Life can be so cruel!
Being old, being wise?
I don’t know about wise, but certainly old means you know more than you care or ever want to know. The day I finally FELT I perfectly understood the phrase Youth is wasted on the young I knew I did not belong to this group any more. Worse, I very nearly physically felt the saying Now I get up with a stiff back and a soft dick (instead of the other way around!). So, we know more with age, but this is the knowledge that I can do without really.
In most gay circles, being old means you’re finished, done, out. That’s probably why many gay men act young despite their wrinkled skin and sagging behind. They still wear tight jeans (at least in Paris) with t shirt that is at least 2 sizes too small. They shaved their head. They wear the latest Converse on their feet (Hey, it’s like looking in the mirror, writing this).
However, being older does have its advantages. We don’t get all worked out thinking about what other people think of us. We know who we are. Having been there and done that, there’s always something in our past to which we can turn to deal with any situation. We get out of uncomfortable situations more easily and by being nice! A concrete example, after making love and needing my beauty sleep though the guy I was with seemed to still be keen on playing, I probably would not have known what to do when I was young. Now, I can say in my most Blanche (from the Golden Girls, for you who are not of age to know this wonderful series) voice if I could call a taxi for him…Hey, service with a smile! And I assure you that I did not learn that in Paris!
Monday, November 26, 2007
Paris capital of love: Outdoor cruising and (sex) clubs
Older gay men always talk about the “good old days.” Same in Paris. Conversing with these men, I got the impression that Paris city was a veritable gigantic cruising area full of beautiful buildings and parks. They talked about different corners of Paris where one, having made eye contact with another, could consume their (momentary) love right there and then. I imagine Paris then as full of happy smiley gays prancing about without a care in the world, waving and giggling at handsome policemen who smiled in return and saluted the flamboyant mass.
Bizarrely, I also start thinking about the good old days in Paris and having only been here for not even 10 years, my good old days are not that old. So things must have changed pretty fast then. Here, I attempt to list changes that I thought are significant ….
What it used to be
Outdoors, for a number of years already, the trend seems to be to light up sombre corners of Paris like a stage, and cut down any
bush above half a meter tall. This means that outdoor sex is becoming nigh impossible. And this I have observed throughout Paris. The canal Saint Martin (Métro Jaurés) used to be one of these dark places where men come to meet other men, allowing them to imagine the other to be whoever they wanted him to be. This is not possible anymore with bright lights flooding every furthest corners and nooks and crannies. This place used to be teeming with men from all corners of Paris (and whose origins are from all corners of the world). The square Narvik also used to be one of the cruisy spots, but now they have cut down all the bushes leaving no possibilities for anyone to find an intimate spot out of the public view. Gone are the brushes (or bushes depending where you come from) that could tell many stories about quick love or sex that nonetheless I am sure had brought happiness to some.
Another by the river spot known to many and is still somewhat ‘doable’ is the quay along Jardin de Tuileries near Concorde. Known as Tata beach, you may feast on sights of delicious masculine bodies during the summer months here. There used to be an underground pedestrian tunnel here that at sundown turned into a veritable meat market. A gay artist friend of mine introduced this place to me. So, there I was in his beautiful apartment full of classic paintings, eating dinner in the most civilized way one can imagine (he sat on one side of a 5 m long table and I opposite him), and half hour after coffee, we were in the tunnel brushing against men leaning against the walls breathing the stale air heavy with the odor of sex (and the bourgeois queen that earlier sipped his coffee daintily turned out to be a very hungry animal indeed. Miauuuuu).
Now I walk around Paris with a sense of nostalgia of these places of nature where a bit of love might have been expressed even if only for a few minutes: Along the river Seine from Gare d’Austerlitz to Place de la Concorde, the park in the extremity of Ile St. Louis, Canal St Martin and Place de Stalingrad, the little park on the Canal going from Jaures to Republique, the curvy bridges that dotted the canal Quai Jemmapes, and many many more.
And sex clubs
It’s not surprising thus that sex clubs do great business these last years. Nonetheless, many of these places have also disappeared. In my neighbourhood le Marais and just one street from my apartment there is now a supermarket. Well, this supermarket used to be a gay sauna. Granted I never actually went there to use the sauna but only to visit the shop where one could buy edible undies, condoms, and sex toys, it is still a bit disconcerting that I now go there to buy bananas and wine. I thought there was something very weird when yet another supermarket appeared and replaced a cinema frequented by gays. The cinema used to show porn, with a small non alcoholic bar in the lobby. Aside from the rows of seats that you usually find in cinemas, to the side there were cubicles some of which could be sort of private as they had a door. Visiting the supermarket, I fondly remember the nameless strangers (that is, they did not even bother to give me a fake name) that I had met in what is now the frozen food area. Is this a cruel joke?
Back to existing clubs: the Depot has flourished and, I must admit, rather fun. They used to have a tea dance with gogo boys performing on a small stage. And on the basement, the labirynth still holds possible mysteries for unexpected encounters. Other sex clubs abound though they tend to be too ‘thematic’ for my taste. Often they have nude nights, leather night, shorts night, underwear night, fist night…oh well, me, I just like the good old fashioned roll in the hay that does not necessitate costumes nor a bucketful of lubricant.
Aside from the usual Marais area, there are clubs near Anvers or Pigalle. I like these places as they tend to be frequented not by stereotypical Parisian gays, but more like your neighbourhood kind of guys (remember the heterosexual neighbor you fantasized about? Or your sister's boyfriend?)! At MZ near Anvers, it seems that the word timid does not exist. You walk down that curvy stairway and you will be faced with men bearing it all as the day they were born (except for the obvious sign of their being excited). Nonetheless, people are friendly if a tad drunk, but good ambiance is sure to be had.
Hints for gay visitors: Check out the small format free gay weekly magazines and guides that you can find in gay bars to explore gay life in Paris (listing bars, sex clubs etc. or, of course, web sites). The bookstore Les mots à la bouche may be a wise first stop in Paris...this bookstore located in the 4th arrondissement at the corner of Rue Vieille du Temple and Rue St. Croix de la Bretonnerie, Metro Hôtel de Ville (Guides, english and french books, and free magazines by the entrance near the cashier). The bar Central (the oldest gay bar in Paris is just next door).
Bizarrely, I also start thinking about the good old days in Paris and having only been here for not even 10 years, my good old days are not that old. So things must have changed pretty fast then. Here, I attempt to list changes that I thought are significant ….
What it used to be
Outdoors, for a number of years already, the trend seems to be to light up sombre corners of Paris like a stage, and cut down any
bush above half a meter tall. This means that outdoor sex is becoming nigh impossible. And this I have observed throughout Paris. The canal Saint Martin (Métro Jaurés) used to be one of these dark places where men come to meet other men, allowing them to imagine the other to be whoever they wanted him to be. This is not possible anymore with bright lights flooding every furthest corners and nooks and crannies. This place used to be teeming with men from all corners of Paris (and whose origins are from all corners of the world). The square Narvik also used to be one of the cruisy spots, but now they have cut down all the bushes leaving no possibilities for anyone to find an intimate spot out of the public view. Gone are the brushes (or bushes depending where you come from) that could tell many stories about quick love or sex that nonetheless I am sure had brought happiness to some.Another by the river spot known to many and is still somewhat ‘doable’ is the quay along Jardin de Tuileries near Concorde. Known as Tata beach, you may feast on sights of delicious masculine bodies during the summer months here. There used to be an underground pedestrian tunnel here that at sundown turned into a veritable meat market. A gay artist friend of mine introduced this place to me. So, there I was in his beautiful apartment full of classic paintings, eating dinner in the most civilized way one can imagine (he sat on one side of a 5 m long table and I opposite him), and half hour after coffee, we were in the tunnel brushing against men leaning against the walls breathing the stale air heavy with the odor of sex (and the bourgeois queen that earlier sipped his coffee daintily turned out to be a very hungry animal indeed. Miauuuuu).
Now I walk around Paris with a sense of nostalgia of these places of nature where a bit of love might have been expressed even if only for a few minutes: Along the river Seine from Gare d’Austerlitz to Place de la Concorde, the park in the extremity of Ile St. Louis, Canal St Martin and Place de Stalingrad, the little park on the Canal going from Jaures to Republique, the curvy bridges that dotted the canal Quai Jemmapes, and many many more.
And sex clubs
It’s not surprising thus that sex clubs do great business these last years. Nonetheless, many of these places have also disappeared. In my neighbourhood le Marais and just one street from my apartment there is now a supermarket. Well, this supermarket used to be a gay sauna. Granted I never actually went there to use the sauna but only to visit the shop where one could buy edible undies, condoms, and sex toys, it is still a bit disconcerting that I now go there to buy bananas and wine. I thought there was something very weird when yet another supermarket appeared and replaced a cinema frequented by gays. The cinema used to show porn, with a small non alcoholic bar in the lobby. Aside from the rows of seats that you usually find in cinemas, to the side there were cubicles some of which could be sort of private as they had a door. Visiting the supermarket, I fondly remember the nameless strangers (that is, they did not even bother to give me a fake name) that I had met in what is now the frozen food area. Is this a cruel joke?
Back to existing clubs: the Depot has flourished and, I must admit, rather fun. They used to have a tea dance with gogo boys performing on a small stage. And on the basement, the labirynth still holds possible mysteries for unexpected encounters. Other sex clubs abound though they tend to be too ‘thematic’ for my taste. Often they have nude nights, leather night, shorts night, underwear night, fist night…oh well, me, I just like the good old fashioned roll in the hay that does not necessitate costumes nor a bucketful of lubricant.
Aside from the usual Marais area, there are clubs near Anvers or Pigalle. I like these places as they tend to be frequented not by stereotypical Parisian gays, but more like your neighbourhood kind of guys (remember the heterosexual neighbor you fantasized about? Or your sister's boyfriend?)! At MZ near Anvers, it seems that the word timid does not exist. You walk down that curvy stairway and you will be faced with men bearing it all as the day they were born (except for the obvious sign of their being excited). Nonetheless, people are friendly if a tad drunk, but good ambiance is sure to be had.
Hints for gay visitors: Check out the small format free gay weekly magazines and guides that you can find in gay bars to explore gay life in Paris (listing bars, sex clubs etc. or, of course, web sites). The bookstore Les mots à la bouche may be a wise first stop in Paris...this bookstore located in the 4th arrondissement at the corner of Rue Vieille du Temple and Rue St. Croix de la Bretonnerie, Metro Hôtel de Ville (Guides, english and french books, and free magazines by the entrance near the cashier). The bar Central (the oldest gay bar in Paris is just next door).
Wednesday, November 21, 2007
Paris: Strike, Irritated people and apartment search
Paris strike and irritated people
Today, the 16th of November, is the third consecutive day of transportation strike that is plaguing Paris. The first day, the strike was the worst but I think many Parisians were ready and either cancelled appointments, took RTT (since now we work 35 hour week, we have extra days to take in the month) or made alternative transport arrangements. But the second day of strike, as it is renewable strike that was indeed renewed since the discussion between the unions and government did not advance, nerves are starting to be frayed and many express their ‘ras le bol’ (fed up, have it up to here etc.). Today, the third day, was the worst that I have experienced on Paris streets. Traffic jams everywhere, sidewalk full of people (as many people simply decide to walk to work), bikes, rollers, scooters etc etc. Riding on the bikelanes we had to avoid people on foot, scooters who decide to join us and even a car with its tires hugging the raised edge of the bikelane on one side and the sidewalk on the other. Intersections were completely blocked with cars facing every which way, pedestrians weaving their way among cars and cyclists doing the same. People were honking like crazy and added to that the sound of whistles from traffic police trying to manage the traffic and sirens from firetrucks and polica cars. Verbal fights ensued when a cyclist bumped another, when a pedestrian walked and blocked cyclists on bikelanes, when cars prevented people to cross streets etc. A young woman was shouting pédé (from pederast which is a derogatory name for gays) to a male cyclist who bumped her (I wanted to shout bitch at her for using this word, why not called him un connard or a stupid fuck or a bastard ?). Don’t even talk about metro. On the news, we could see that people were prevented from going to the platforms they were that full. Trains ranged from not running at all, to one every hour, to the best line (line 1) that runs every 10 to 15 minutes. People are on edge and this is expected to last through the weekend. We will wait what Monday brings.
The french are in general understanding and accept without question the right to strike. This time, transport workers wish to keep the special conditions they have for retirement (accorded to works that involve physical effort and unusual working conditions such as long hours, night time and weekends workdays) that the government is attempting to take away. But on the third day, patience is starting to run thin.
Add to the general situation, the students movement that in some universities included blocking off the university so courses could not take place.
I think we are at an explosive time here at the moment. Wait and see.
Apartment search
In the mean time, I have been doing a lot of visits of apartments to rent which is no mean feat when there is no reliable means of transport due to the strike. These visits range from group to, if I am lucky, individual visits. The group visits are interesting as people deal with potential competitors for the apartment differently. They can be friendly as one guy that I met on a visit with whom I ended up having coffee. Though in the end, I did understand his strategy: telling me a sad story that would make me cry a river so I won’t apply for the same apartment! And that worked too, because he was so cute and adorable. There are those who right away make you think if look could kill…and these are those who would make themselves first in line, dominate the conversation with the agent showing the apartment and attempt to weasel their way to the agent’s heart (if indeed he or she has one). Agents are something else, too. One behaved as if she was the owner of the apartment (though indeed she has the power to decide whose application gets through to the owner) and treated you like shits in need who made her lose her precious time. I am not one to talk about racism, but boy, this time I cannot help but think that if you speak with an accent and your skin is not exactly snow white, don't expect a royal treatement. I think that as soon as they see me come in, they form the image that I am an immigrant with a small salary that will probably put the whole village in a small studio. Of course, they would ask for a garant (guarantor) who is in principle a person who would pay for you if you don’t pay your rent. The problem is that they may ask that the garant earns 4X the rent (whereas the renter has to earn 3X the rent). My specific problem: most of my friends who could be garant actually earn less than me (in fact almost all earn less than me). So here is a funny situation, I who earn more than everyone else needs these others to guarantee the agent that my rents would be paid. Sometimes, these people just want to follow the rule or the accepted practice (that there is a garant) and forgetting the logic of the situation and the individual cases where this might not make sense…
Paris strike continues (today 20 nov)
I am beginning to have had it up to here with the transport strike. I have pedalled to the north of paris on a bicycle which was no easy task for anybody because it goes uphill in a very steep incline; I have fought people in metro where we were squashed in like sardines with aggressive and complaining people, have waited for buses, trams and metro forever and ever, and have spent way too much time in transport jumping from a bus stuck in the horrendous traffic jams (everyone who has a car of course decides to take their car) to walk a long time to find a metro line that runs. I have spent the night nourishing my tired legs. A few days of strike I can take, but this is getting ridiculous. How long will this last ?
The president just said that for the retirement plan, given the actives, reform has to take place...hey, I have an idea, what about immigration?
Today, the 16th of November, is the third consecutive day of transportation strike that is plaguing Paris. The first day, the strike was the worst but I think many Parisians were ready and either cancelled appointments, took RTT (since now we work 35 hour week, we have extra days to take in the month) or made alternative transport arrangements. But the second day of strike, as it is renewable strike that was indeed renewed since the discussion between the unions and government did not advance, nerves are starting to be frayed and many express their ‘ras le bol’ (fed up, have it up to here etc.). Today, the third day, was the worst that I have experienced on Paris streets. Traffic jams everywhere, sidewalk full of people (as many people simply decide to walk to work), bikes, rollers, scooters etc etc. Riding on the bikelanes we had to avoid people on foot, scooters who decide to join us and even a car with its tires hugging the raised edge of the bikelane on one side and the sidewalk on the other. Intersections were completely blocked with cars facing every which way, pedestrians weaving their way among cars and cyclists doing the same. People were honking like crazy and added to that the sound of whistles from traffic police trying to manage the traffic and sirens from firetrucks and polica cars. Verbal fights ensued when a cyclist bumped another, when a pedestrian walked and blocked cyclists on bikelanes, when cars prevented people to cross streets etc. A young woman was shouting pédé (from pederast which is a derogatory name for gays) to a male cyclist who bumped her (I wanted to shout bitch at her for using this word, why not called him un connard or a stupid fuck or a bastard ?). Don’t even talk about metro. On the news, we could see that people were prevented from going to the platforms they were that full. Trains ranged from not running at all, to one every hour, to the best line (line 1) that runs every 10 to 15 minutes. People are on edge and this is expected to last through the weekend. We will wait what Monday brings.
The french are in general understanding and accept without question the right to strike. This time, transport workers wish to keep the special conditions they have for retirement (accorded to works that involve physical effort and unusual working conditions such as long hours, night time and weekends workdays) that the government is attempting to take away. But on the third day, patience is starting to run thin.
Add to the general situation, the students movement that in some universities included blocking off the university so courses could not take place.
I think we are at an explosive time here at the moment. Wait and see.
Apartment search
In the mean time, I have been doing a lot of visits of apartments to rent which is no mean feat when there is no reliable means of transport due to the strike. These visits range from group to, if I am lucky, individual visits. The group visits are interesting as people deal with potential competitors for the apartment differently. They can be friendly as one guy that I met on a visit with whom I ended up having coffee. Though in the end, I did understand his strategy: telling me a sad story that would make me cry a river so I won’t apply for the same apartment! And that worked too, because he was so cute and adorable. There are those who right away make you think if look could kill…and these are those who would make themselves first in line, dominate the conversation with the agent showing the apartment and attempt to weasel their way to the agent’s heart (if indeed he or she has one). Agents are something else, too. One behaved as if she was the owner of the apartment (though indeed she has the power to decide whose application gets through to the owner) and treated you like shits in need who made her lose her precious time. I am not one to talk about racism, but boy, this time I cannot help but think that if you speak with an accent and your skin is not exactly snow white, don't expect a royal treatement. I think that as soon as they see me come in, they form the image that I am an immigrant with a small salary that will probably put the whole village in a small studio. Of course, they would ask for a garant (guarantor) who is in principle a person who would pay for you if you don’t pay your rent. The problem is that they may ask that the garant earns 4X the rent (whereas the renter has to earn 3X the rent). My specific problem: most of my friends who could be garant actually earn less than me (in fact almost all earn less than me). So here is a funny situation, I who earn more than everyone else needs these others to guarantee the agent that my rents would be paid. Sometimes, these people just want to follow the rule or the accepted practice (that there is a garant) and forgetting the logic of the situation and the individual cases where this might not make sense…
Paris strike continues (today 20 nov)
I am beginning to have had it up to here with the transport strike. I have pedalled to the north of paris on a bicycle which was no easy task for anybody because it goes uphill in a very steep incline; I have fought people in metro where we were squashed in like sardines with aggressive and complaining people, have waited for buses, trams and metro forever and ever, and have spent way too much time in transport jumping from a bus stuck in the horrendous traffic jams (everyone who has a car of course decides to take their car) to walk a long time to find a metro line that runs. I have spent the night nourishing my tired legs. A few days of strike I can take, but this is getting ridiculous. How long will this last ?
The president just said that for the retirement plan, given the actives, reform has to take place...hey, I have an idea, what about immigration?
Wednesday, October 31, 2007
Paris: Getting your papers to live here
Australians, Canadians and Americans don’t need a visa for a short visit in France or Europe. But all need a visa long séjour if wanting to stay longer than 3 months. This can be obtained in French embassies in your city and usually involves showing letters/papers attesting the purpose of your long stay in France and how you plan to finance it (and temporary work permit obtained by your employer in France if you intend to work for a French company). Once you obtained your visa long séjour don’t think that all is set and you can arrive in France and set up house. Nothing is further than the truth.
You will get introduced to French administration from the moment you go to the center where they receive foreigners (Centre de reception des étrangers which is your first point of starting the process after arrival) who would then give you an appointment time at the Prefecture to get your carte de séjour or residence permit (a card issued to everyone non-French living here temporarily or permanently). Prepare yourself to have papers that you might never have heard of (When I first arrived here, I had to get a fiche d’état civil. Luckily my embassy was able to provide a formal letter attesting my identity in place of). Copies of passport, electricity bill (as proof of residency (they ask for this for everything such as getting a bank account, getting a driver's licence etc. Obviously, we get the impression that homeless people should not exist though you see them more and more on the streets of Paris or under bridges), identity photos, letter from your employer and temporary or permanent work permit are the papers that might be asked (there might be more!). They will also look at your visa. You have a week after your arrival to get the process going. It might be a good idea to ask the immigration officer at the airport to stamp your passport with the arrival date, just in case. At airports, they often wave you without bothering to stamp passports, so ask.
And especially, prepare yourself for long lines and long wait at the prefecture. Your appointment may indeed be at 2 pm, but you may get called at 4 pm (and this after spending a long time in line to get into the building!). And of course, the agent who calls you and looks at your papers will find a missing paper that is obviously missing because it was not on the list given you by the other agent, but somehow, this missing document has become extremely important. Be prepared also to meet a lot of agents who are not the friendliest lot on earth. They have absolute power over your case, that much is clear, and they will let you know very clearly too. This is because the laws are numerous and very complicated which mean rarely clear and transparant which leave a lot of room for interpretations by the agents themselves. So if you happen to find yourself face to face with a constipated agent who woke up on the wrong side of the bed that morning, well, the law might suddenly becomes much more complicated too. I have been lucky here though, as I have mostly met the few nice and friendly agents. Luck of the draw I guess. That said, I have also had personnels who looked as if the last thing they wanted to do was be there and even less to be there talking to you.
Of course it helps a lot when you speak French well as many of these agents will use administrative lingos that may even leave French speakers baffled (not to mention the fact that certains types of documents do not exist in your country). Insist politely on clarification, as this will save you a lot of time even if this would tick the agent fruther (you probably get another person when you come back anyway). And be vigilant for small errors that the personnel may make such as misspelling your names! You may think this is not important, but it will be later on, trust me. And it may take a long time and a lot of time to fix it later despite it not being your fault!
If you don’t need to come back with another type of necessary document, you will be given a piece of paper that is your temporary card valid up to 3 months and will be notified by mail (snailmail of course) when your card is ready to be picked up. Depending on your situation, these cards could be for temporary residence valid anywhere up to a year, or the much coveted permanent card valid normally for ten years. The new law is that to get the residence card (permanent, I think) one needs to speak French and show integration to the French society.
Luckily, subsequent renewals can be done by post and you only need to go there to pick up your card.
My advice on this: Patience, patience and patience. Don’t ever loose your cool as this will only slow things further. Bring a good book and just wait for your turn. This is what the French have had to deal all their lives (the same process for getting a driving licence for instance), so think of it as your very own introduction to the infamously bureaucratic French administration experience.
Renting and bank account: the catch 22.
Having a residence (logement) is very important here as they will ask for proof of residence for any administrative process. If you rent an apartment, they will ask you for quittance de loyer (rent receipts) or the latest electricity bill. If you're living with a friend, he or she has to write a letter saying that you're indeed housed in their residence along with a copy of his or her identity card/passport. But, here's the catch (if you parachute into Paris all alone with no one to house you for the time being): to rent an apartment you have to have a bank account, but to open a bank account you have to have an address (and not a hotel). Well, this makes for an impossible situation to say the least.
The thing to do is to visit all the banks and ask if they could open an account for you. Different branches of a bank may apply the rule differently and you may get refused in one but can open an account with no problem in another branch. Once you open an account, you will have what is called a RIB or Relevé d'identitaire bancaire which is a piece of paper containing all your bank account information. This piece of paper will be asked when you wish to rent an apartment, to open an electricity account, and to have anything that involves payment. Now, you can start looking for that dream Paris apartment (see my blog on Renting in Paris).
Alternatively, you may get a residence first and get a bank account later. This can be achieved through short term rental, often of furnished apartments. There are real estate agents who deal often with foreigners and rent furnished apartments all around Paris. Though more expensive, they nonetheless provide the much needed starting point for foreigners coming to Paris. Most of these agents speak English, so that's a big help too when you still have to improve your French.
You will get introduced to French administration from the moment you go to the center where they receive foreigners (Centre de reception des étrangers which is your first point of starting the process after arrival) who would then give you an appointment time at the Prefecture to get your carte de séjour or residence permit (a card issued to everyone non-French living here temporarily or permanently). Prepare yourself to have papers that you might never have heard of (When I first arrived here, I had to get a fiche d’état civil. Luckily my embassy was able to provide a formal letter attesting my identity in place of). Copies of passport, electricity bill (as proof of residency (they ask for this for everything such as getting a bank account, getting a driver's licence etc. Obviously, we get the impression that homeless people should not exist though you see them more and more on the streets of Paris or under bridges), identity photos, letter from your employer and temporary or permanent work permit are the papers that might be asked (there might be more!). They will also look at your visa. You have a week after your arrival to get the process going. It might be a good idea to ask the immigration officer at the airport to stamp your passport with the arrival date, just in case. At airports, they often wave you without bothering to stamp passports, so ask.
And especially, prepare yourself for long lines and long wait at the prefecture. Your appointment may indeed be at 2 pm, but you may get called at 4 pm (and this after spending a long time in line to get into the building!). And of course, the agent who calls you and looks at your papers will find a missing paper that is obviously missing because it was not on the list given you by the other agent, but somehow, this missing document has become extremely important. Be prepared also to meet a lot of agents who are not the friendliest lot on earth. They have absolute power over your case, that much is clear, and they will let you know very clearly too. This is because the laws are numerous and very complicated which mean rarely clear and transparant which leave a lot of room for interpretations by the agents themselves. So if you happen to find yourself face to face with a constipated agent who woke up on the wrong side of the bed that morning, well, the law might suddenly becomes much more complicated too. I have been lucky here though, as I have mostly met the few nice and friendly agents. Luck of the draw I guess. That said, I have also had personnels who looked as if the last thing they wanted to do was be there and even less to be there talking to you.
Of course it helps a lot when you speak French well as many of these agents will use administrative lingos that may even leave French speakers baffled (not to mention the fact that certains types of documents do not exist in your country). Insist politely on clarification, as this will save you a lot of time even if this would tick the agent fruther (you probably get another person when you come back anyway). And be vigilant for small errors that the personnel may make such as misspelling your names! You may think this is not important, but it will be later on, trust me. And it may take a long time and a lot of time to fix it later despite it not being your fault!
If you don’t need to come back with another type of necessary document, you will be given a piece of paper that is your temporary card valid up to 3 months and will be notified by mail (snailmail of course) when your card is ready to be picked up. Depending on your situation, these cards could be for temporary residence valid anywhere up to a year, or the much coveted permanent card valid normally for ten years. The new law is that to get the residence card (permanent, I think) one needs to speak French and show integration to the French society.
Luckily, subsequent renewals can be done by post and you only need to go there to pick up your card.
My advice on this: Patience, patience and patience. Don’t ever loose your cool as this will only slow things further. Bring a good book and just wait for your turn. This is what the French have had to deal all their lives (the same process for getting a driving licence for instance), so think of it as your very own introduction to the infamously bureaucratic French administration experience.
Renting and bank account: the catch 22.
Having a residence (logement) is very important here as they will ask for proof of residence for any administrative process. If you rent an apartment, they will ask you for quittance de loyer (rent receipts) or the latest electricity bill. If you're living with a friend, he or she has to write a letter saying that you're indeed housed in their residence along with a copy of his or her identity card/passport. But, here's the catch (if you parachute into Paris all alone with no one to house you for the time being): to rent an apartment you have to have a bank account, but to open a bank account you have to have an address (and not a hotel). Well, this makes for an impossible situation to say the least.
The thing to do is to visit all the banks and ask if they could open an account for you. Different branches of a bank may apply the rule differently and you may get refused in one but can open an account with no problem in another branch. Once you open an account, you will have what is called a RIB or Relevé d'identitaire bancaire which is a piece of paper containing all your bank account information. This piece of paper will be asked when you wish to rent an apartment, to open an electricity account, and to have anything that involves payment. Now, you can start looking for that dream Paris apartment (see my blog on Renting in Paris).
Alternatively, you may get a residence first and get a bank account later. This can be achieved through short term rental, often of furnished apartments. There are real estate agents who deal often with foreigners and rent furnished apartments all around Paris. Though more expensive, they nonetheless provide the much needed starting point for foreigners coming to Paris. Most of these agents speak English, so that's a big help too when you still have to improve your French.
Paris: Gay/Tourist guide, sort of, of the 4e arrondissement
There are many tourist guides for Paris. So, I am just going to mention things that might reflect my personal opinions etc in addition to standard information if given. Arriving in Charles de Gaulle airport, be sure that you have filled out a disembarkation card (yellow) if you’re not a EU or French citizen. Prepare yourself for long and disorganized lines for passport control. Then prepare yourself for long waits for your bags. The airports do have ATMs though not always in the most visible places. So ask! Once you’re ready to get to the city, your options depending on your budget and luggage can either be the suburban train (RER), the city bus (non-stop and will take you to Opéra), the Air France bus (to Gare de Lyon and Montparnasse, or Invalides and Champs Elyssées, or yet another line directly to Orly airport). The RER will take you to Gare du Nord, Chatelet (smack in the center of Paris) or Saint Michel and Luxembourg on the southern side of the river Seine, near a huge and beautiful park known by the same name. On the same side of the river (known as Rive Gauche), you will find the known English bookstore Shakespeare (station Saint Michel). A good place to get information of where to stay for cheap if you did not plan ahead, which is not advisable unless you’re 17 and ready to crash anywhere or unless you have tons of money).
Where your hotel is
Where you stay in Paris can make a difference to your Parisian experience. Paris is divided into districts (or arrondissements) that spiral out of the center like a snail. Each district has its own characteristics and personality, so to speak (for the 4th , it’s gay and Jewish and touristy). In the center you have First arrondissement, the 2nd above it, the 3rd to the right of the 2nd, and the 4th below the third. The 5th arrodissement is below the 4th on the rive gauche. To the left is the 5th (where Sorbonne University used to be. These days it is composed of many universities, though the place de la Sorbonne still exists) followed by the 6th and the 7th as you move leftwards along the rive gauche. Traversing the Seine you have the 8th, 9th, and so on with the outer arrondissements straddling the inner ones moving in clockwise direction. In total there are 20 arrondissements in Paris. By the way, Parisians have clear images about Rive Gauche and Rive Droite (areas above or below the river Seine). If Rive Gauche evokes intellectualism and richness, Rive Droite evokes more socialism, excitement, and quartiers populaires (quarters for workers etc.) though bizarrely, les champs Elysées is on this side of the river along with all the grand monuments such as la Défense, Le Grand Palais etc.
The fourth arrondissement: Gay barsThe fourth arrondissement (75004) is probably where you want to be if you are gay. The Marais, in the 4th arrondissement is the gay area of Paris. Here, you should go to the gay bookshop Les mots à la bouche ( English
books available here and all kind of guides), the Open Café on rue des Archives (a good place to meet locals and tourists alike in the evening and into the night) or the Cox bar almost next to it (a good place, slightly leather but not at all strictly,
VERY popular late afternoon and early evening). Many of the places closed at 2 am though except for a few bars. The Quetzal (now called Happy Quetzal) is one of the late closing bars. It used to be very dingy and exciting (dark, dirty complete with a backroom upstairs). Changes have come in the closing of the backroom, and a recent renovation that unfortunately (in my opinion) make this place now resemble any other gay bars and at first glance even a showroom of IKEA. Still, the crowd, thankfully unchanged, makes it worth going there. The bathroom (upstairs) also is pretty cool (for example, the video mirrors above the sink…so whilst washing your hands you see a video of yourself rather than an image in the mirror). Mirrors everywhere in the toilet cubicle also make for an interesting experience! The other is le Raids which includes men taking showers as part of the ambiance (sort of like the Splash in NYC if indeed it’s still there, haven’t been back there for a while).
Bars along rue Vieille du Temple, rue des Archives et rue St. Croix de la Bretonnerie are all worth a look and a visit. Central Bar on rue vieille du temple is supposedly one of, if not the oldest gay bars in Paris and it also has a hotel upstairs (the only gay hotel in Paris officially). Other hotels abound in the district though not always cheap. Another option is the Hotel Loiret at, I love the street name, rue des mauvais garçons (literally, street of bad boys!). Near Central, you will also find l’Amnesia (the bar where I kissed my supposedly straight boyfriend for the first time in public. So it's special for me but apparently to many too as it is always crowded), and Okama. Old institutions that have been there forever include le Piano Zinc, les QG (leather/jeans bar with a backroom downstairs). Wonder around and you will find bars with different ambiances.
Restaurants
Restaurants abound as well. You might want to try the Gai Moulin which has a fixed menu that includes choices of entrée (what we call appetizers in the US), plat principal (entrée for Americans), and dessert or cheese. The ambiance is excellent. You sit very close to your neighbors and in all the times that I went there I have ended up chatting with those next to us (likely to be local gays or gay tourists). Try their oeuf cocotte for entrée. Next to the Quetzal there is a small Vietnamese restaurant that is very very popular with locals because not only are the prices reasonable but the food is also fresh and very good. It is small, so it is very crowded most of the time. You can also get food to take away here. For Jewish food (the 4th is also a jewish neighbourhood), go to rue Rosiers and get Falafel in the number of restaurants lining the street. Cakes also abound with many traditional Jewish bakeries.
Sex clubsMoving towards the 1st from the 4th district via rue des Lombards, you will find more bars (including a bears’ bar called the Den, as you approach boulevard de Sebastopol that separates the first and the fourth districts). Continuing on Lombards street, you will find yourself near Les Halles. In this hood, you will find Banana Café, a well known institution if a bit touristy but nonetheless gay (mixed actually, so you can bring girlfriends) bar. Going up boulevard de Sebastopol, you will also find a cruising club at rue aux ours (le Depot). This place is huge and if you want meat market this is exactly it. The bar is on the first floor while the cruising areas with cubicles etc are on the floor below. For the other cruising club in the 4th, you have to go towards the Seine (at Quai de l’Hotel de Ville) and find a place called Le Deep (!! Easily found by the two lion statues guarding the entrance which is a plain door illuminated by a spotlight).
If you must: real touristy stuffIn the fourth arrondissement, you will also find the Hotel de Ville de Paris (Paris Town Hall), an imposing building built in the 18th century. What I like about this building is the small statues of famous people that one finds all around the outside walls of the building. These include famous painters, philosophers, writers and thus not only political people! (Moliere, for instance) That’s great I think. Each district of Paris also has its own town-hall. For the 4th, the town-hall (or Mairie) is two steps from the Hotel de Ville de Paris though of course a lot less imposing than the latter. In the place in front of the Mairie (town-hall) of the 4th, there is an open market for vegetables, cheese, fish and meat and cooked meals such as Paella and French dishes ready to consume. Notre Dame, located on the island Cité (Ile de la Cité), is also in the 4th arrondissement. Did you know that the open place in front of Notre Dame is the point zero from where all the distances in France are calculated (in km)? Museum Picasso is also in this district. And one that you should also visit is the Museum for Photography, near the metro station St. Paul. They have great exhibitions there. But, of course, the Museum of Modern Art, George Pompidou is in this district too.
Having been a resident for the past 9 years in the 4th arrondissement, to my extreme dismay, I have seen traditional Parisian coffee shops disappeared and replaced by modern looking (San Francisco or Sydney style) coffee shops. Oh well, times they are a changing. You can still find more or less traditional coffee shops at Place de la Mairie near the town hall, or if you go further up on the streets Archive, Temple etc. Le pick clop, a café, on rue Vieille du Temple, I like very much because it has not changed much and retained its 70s ambiance somewhat, sort of like a combo of Marilyn Monroe and Paris traditional (that is, if Marilyn was to open a traditional café, it would probably look like this). Another favourite of mine is the Café Beaubourg in front of the George Pompidou. Here, if it’s a nice day, you can sit in the terrace and watch people go by (heavy traffic of very good looking men shuttling between the bars in le Marais and les halles) and the street performers tend to perform right in front of the café! This pseudo intellectual café is decorated in if you wish a modern traditional Parisian café, though once the smoking law comes into effect in February 2008, I cannot vouch for the ambiance…I will say it again, Paris café without smoke is SO unthinkable for me.
Where your hotel is
Where you stay in Paris can make a difference to your Parisian experience. Paris is divided into districts (or arrondissements) that spiral out of the center like a snail. Each district has its own characteristics and personality, so to speak (for the 4th , it’s gay and Jewish and touristy). In the center you have First arrondissement, the 2nd above it, the 3rd to the right of the 2nd, and the 4th below the third. The 5th arrodissement is below the 4th on the rive gauche. To the left is the 5th (where Sorbonne University used to be. These days it is composed of many universities, though the place de la Sorbonne still exists) followed by the 6th and the 7th as you move leftwards along the rive gauche. Traversing the Seine you have the 8th, 9th, and so on with the outer arrondissements straddling the inner ones moving in clockwise direction. In total there are 20 arrondissements in Paris. By the way, Parisians have clear images about Rive Gauche and Rive Droite (areas above or below the river Seine). If Rive Gauche evokes intellectualism and richness, Rive Droite evokes more socialism, excitement, and quartiers populaires (quarters for workers etc.) though bizarrely, les champs Elysées is on this side of the river along with all the grand monuments such as la Défense, Le Grand Palais etc.
The fourth arrondissement: Gay barsThe fourth arrondissement (75004) is probably where you want to be if you are gay. The Marais, in the 4th arrondissement is the gay area of Paris. Here, you should go to the gay bookshop Les mots à la bouche ( English
books available here and all kind of guides), the Open Café on rue des Archives (a good place to meet locals and tourists alike in the evening and into the night) or the Cox bar almost next to it (a good place, slightly leather but not at all strictly,
VERY popular late afternoon and early evening). Many of the places closed at 2 am though except for a few bars. The Quetzal (now called Happy Quetzal) is one of the late closing bars. It used to be very dingy and exciting (dark, dirty complete with a backroom upstairs). Changes have come in the closing of the backroom, and a recent renovation that unfortunately (in my opinion) make this place now resemble any other gay bars and at first glance even a showroom of IKEA. Still, the crowd, thankfully unchanged, makes it worth going there. The bathroom (upstairs) also is pretty cool (for example, the video mirrors above the sink…so whilst washing your hands you see a video of yourself rather than an image in the mirror). Mirrors everywhere in the toilet cubicle also make for an interesting experience! The other is le Raids which includes men taking showers as part of the ambiance (sort of like the Splash in NYC if indeed it’s still there, haven’t been back there for a while).
Bars along rue Vieille du Temple, rue des Archives et rue St. Croix de la Bretonnerie are all worth a look and a visit. Central Bar on rue vieille du temple is supposedly one of, if not the oldest gay bars in Paris and it also has a hotel upstairs (the only gay hotel in Paris officially). Other hotels abound in the district though not always cheap. Another option is the Hotel Loiret at, I love the street name, rue des mauvais garçons (literally, street of bad boys!). Near Central, you will also find l’Amnesia (the bar where I kissed my supposedly straight boyfriend for the first time in public. So it's special for me but apparently to many too as it is always crowded), and Okama. Old institutions that have been there forever include le Piano Zinc, les QG (leather/jeans bar with a backroom downstairs). Wonder around and you will find bars with different ambiances.Restaurants
Restaurants abound as well. You might want to try the Gai Moulin which has a fixed menu that includes choices of entrée (what we call appetizers in the US), plat principal (entrée for Americans), and dessert or cheese. The ambiance is excellent. You sit very close to your neighbors and in all the times that I went there I have ended up chatting with those next to us (likely to be local gays or gay tourists). Try their oeuf cocotte for entrée. Next to the Quetzal there is a small Vietnamese restaurant that is very very popular with locals because not only are the prices reasonable but the food is also fresh and very good. It is small, so it is very crowded most of the time. You can also get food to take away here. For Jewish food (the 4th is also a jewish neighbourhood), go to rue Rosiers and get Falafel in the number of restaurants lining the street. Cakes also abound with many traditional Jewish bakeries.
Sex clubsMoving towards the 1st from the 4th district via rue des Lombards, you will find more bars (including a bears’ bar called the Den, as you approach boulevard de Sebastopol that separates the first and the fourth districts). Continuing on Lombards street, you will find yourself near Les Halles. In this hood, you will find Banana Café, a well known institution if a bit touristy but nonetheless gay (mixed actually, so you can bring girlfriends) bar. Going up boulevard de Sebastopol, you will also find a cruising club at rue aux ours (le Depot). This place is huge and if you want meat market this is exactly it. The bar is on the first floor while the cruising areas with cubicles etc are on the floor below. For the other cruising club in the 4th, you have to go towards the Seine (at Quai de l’Hotel de Ville) and find a place called Le Deep (!! Easily found by the two lion statues guarding the entrance which is a plain door illuminated by a spotlight).
If you must: real touristy stuffIn the fourth arrondissement, you will also find the Hotel de Ville de Paris (Paris Town Hall), an imposing building built in the 18th century. What I like about this building is the small statues of famous people that one finds all around the outside walls of the building. These include famous painters, philosophers, writers and thus not only political people! (Moliere, for instance) That’s great I think. Each district of Paris also has its own town-hall. For the 4th, the town-hall (or Mairie) is two steps from the Hotel de Ville de Paris though of course a lot less imposing than the latter. In the place in front of the Mairie (town-hall) of the 4th, there is an open market for vegetables, cheese, fish and meat and cooked meals such as Paella and French dishes ready to consume. Notre Dame, located on the island Cité (Ile de la Cité), is also in the 4th arrondissement. Did you know that the open place in front of Notre Dame is the point zero from where all the distances in France are calculated (in km)? Museum Picasso is also in this district. And one that you should also visit is the Museum for Photography, near the metro station St. Paul. They have great exhibitions there. But, of course, the Museum of Modern Art, George Pompidou is in this district too.
Having been a resident for the past 9 years in the 4th arrondissement, to my extreme dismay, I have seen traditional Parisian coffee shops disappeared and replaced by modern looking (San Francisco or Sydney style) coffee shops. Oh well, times they are a changing. You can still find more or less traditional coffee shops at Place de la Mairie near the town hall, or if you go further up on the streets Archive, Temple etc. Le pick clop, a café, on rue Vieille du Temple, I like very much because it has not changed much and retained its 70s ambiance somewhat, sort of like a combo of Marilyn Monroe and Paris traditional (that is, if Marilyn was to open a traditional café, it would probably look like this). Another favourite of mine is the Café Beaubourg in front of the George Pompidou. Here, if it’s a nice day, you can sit in the terrace and watch people go by (heavy traffic of very good looking men shuttling between the bars in le Marais and les halles) and the street performers tend to perform right in front of the café! This pseudo intellectual café is decorated in if you wish a modern traditional Parisian café, though once the smoking law comes into effect in February 2008, I cannot vouch for the ambiance…I will say it again, Paris café without smoke is SO unthinkable for me.
NOTE (2014): Le Central and le Gai Moulin have also disappeared now :-( .
Tuesday, October 30, 2007
Paris lover 2
I cannot vouch for the fact that most French married men have a mistress or two. But there are indications that this “practice” is something that is an acceptable secret for most. Ex president Mitterand, for instance, had a mistress with whom he had a daughter that practically represented a public secret during his tenure as president of the Republic. In the US I think this would have been the end of one’s political career! I have also read that certain things could be related to this widespread practice of having mistresses. For instance, the numbers called that are listed on your phone bill normally include only the first 4 numbers with the rest masked by x’s. This way, your partner would not be able to check, I guess, who you’ve been calling at 2 AM! Yeah, right. As luck would have it, in my haste to be Parisian, I met married men who would become intermittent but nonetheless long terms lovers….. Now, how Parisian could you be, I asked myself.
The first man to whom I have been mistress (:-)) for the past six years, has been married for even longer than that. We met on the street in Pigalle as I was rushing to meet a friend at the café Fourmi. We looked at each other, smiled and exchanged phone numbers. I called him after leaving my friend at the café and met him in another café in Stalingrad. Lots of flirts and visits to toilets (with me always backing out because making love in a toilet just made me nervous). Finally we met in a house where a group of his friends lived (to whom he introduced me as someone he had worked with before. The problem was that I had slept with one of them before, which made for a rather uncomfortable situation. Like my then just met lover, he was supposedly straight). I had to wait till 3 AM on the deserted street waiting till his friends went to bed and we could use the kitchen where me made love quietly if urgently. Thereafter we used every corners and nooks we could in Paris to make love: a small secluded park near the canal, a friend of his who loaned us his apartment (he waited in a café below whilst we were there) and even in a sex cinema. Thank goodness I finally found an apartment of my own that made it possible for us to meet. Generally, he calls and I make myself available. But that is the life of a mistress.
In many ways, this type of relationship is exactly what I wanted. There is the romanticism of it all knowing that he is someone that I could not have though I could feel myself falling for him. Like a child that played with a favourite toy that he or she has to return when asked to do so. This makes him the object of my affection for the past 6 years with weekly RDVs that never last more than an afternoon or an evening. In the span of 6 years we cannot help but develop attachment despite the particular circumstance that surrounds our relationship. The RDVs are now punctuated with discussion of our lives. I become familiar with his life despite it being totally detached, yet, very much connected to me via the man that is part of my life for a very long time now. I cannot say if the fact that he is a forbidden garden, at least to me, or the fact that there exist clear limits beyond which each of our lives takes its own direction, or simply our love, is responsible for our long lasting relationship. But a good mistress does not pose too many questions. The least we know the better.
The first man to whom I have been mistress (:-)) for the past six years, has been married for even longer than that. We met on the street in Pigalle as I was rushing to meet a friend at the café Fourmi. We looked at each other, smiled and exchanged phone numbers. I called him after leaving my friend at the café and met him in another café in Stalingrad. Lots of flirts and visits to toilets (with me always backing out because making love in a toilet just made me nervous). Finally we met in a house where a group of his friends lived (to whom he introduced me as someone he had worked with before. The problem was that I had slept with one of them before, which made for a rather uncomfortable situation. Like my then just met lover, he was supposedly straight). I had to wait till 3 AM on the deserted street waiting till his friends went to bed and we could use the kitchen where me made love quietly if urgently. Thereafter we used every corners and nooks we could in Paris to make love: a small secluded park near the canal, a friend of his who loaned us his apartment (he waited in a café below whilst we were there) and even in a sex cinema. Thank goodness I finally found an apartment of my own that made it possible for us to meet. Generally, he calls and I make myself available. But that is the life of a mistress.
In many ways, this type of relationship is exactly what I wanted. There is the romanticism of it all knowing that he is someone that I could not have though I could feel myself falling for him. Like a child that played with a favourite toy that he or she has to return when asked to do so. This makes him the object of my affection for the past 6 years with weekly RDVs that never last more than an afternoon or an evening. In the span of 6 years we cannot help but develop attachment despite the particular circumstance that surrounds our relationship. The RDVs are now punctuated with discussion of our lives. I become familiar with his life despite it being totally detached, yet, very much connected to me via the man that is part of my life for a very long time now. I cannot say if the fact that he is a forbidden garden, at least to me, or the fact that there exist clear limits beyond which each of our lives takes its own direction, or simply our love, is responsible for our long lasting relationship. But a good mistress does not pose too many questions. The least we know the better.
Monday, October 22, 2007
Paris: The strike or la grève
If you were in Paris on 19 October 2007, you probably noticed something different as you step out of your hotel or apartment. If you were setting out to do some sightseeing, you probably had to wait a long time for the metro (if it came at all) and fought the body to body crowd on the platform of the station. If you were planning to take the bus, the wait was just as long. If you were about to travel by plane and had to take the suburban RER to Charles de Gaulle airport, and you were brave enough to fight for space on the platform, let alone on the train, for yourself and your bags, you probably arrived at the airport much later than anticipated and a lot worse for wear. Funnily, taking a taxi did not pose a problem in term of traffic, as many Parisians I think had decided just to stay home.
That day, workers of public transportation have gone on strike. Striking or la grève is very much a French tradition as wine, good food and fashion. The big strike that lasted a while happened before I moved here in 1995. But since my arrival here I have had my share of grèves and have learned to take it in stride.
Living with the strike
The first time I experienced the strike, I was very angry and frustrated. I thought it was very egotistical of these transport workers to stop all transport to have what they want without thinking of others who still have to go to work and go about their business. However, having lived here, I finally understand and if have not yet learned to accept it fully, at least have learned to live with it without the anger and the frustration. Conflict is part of the French life. And the assumption in non friendship interpersonal relationship (between colleagues, between those in power and not in power, between supervisors and employees) tend to be that they will fuck you over if you don’t do something first (or sometimes, they will fuck you over if you don’t fuck them over first!). When potential disagreements arise (or mostly when unfavourable decisions or ideas are voiced by those in power), others take the conflict right away and call for a strike as a way to show power their way. The public transportation strike of the 18 oct was a show of force of unions and workers against those in power that have taken the decision to change the retirement age of these workers (Considered to be hard labourers, they have the right to retirement earlier than non hard labourers which the government is now attempting to take).
Bizarrely, people don’t negotiate first and then go on strike (which I think is what tends to happen in other countries such as Germany) if the negotiation fails. This is especially true in the relation between workers and government. However, having had to deal with the French administration, I now understand the need for this show of power on the street. French administration being so complicated, going through the regular channels would probably take forever and ineffective with the diffusion of responsibilities inherent in the system. In the hierarchical system, I guess there is always one person who is responsible, but before you get there, there are so many red tapes and hoops and holes that one must pass. Expressing anger and discontent seems to be an accepted part of French life even in everyday lives (Come to think of it, how many times have I observed spontaneous expression of Joie or happiness aside from in sport events when the French team wins? Not many actually).
Tackling the strike
Strikes would generally be announced in advance as warning has to be given to the government about this action being taken by workers. So, being good Parisians we take preparations to deal with this (and sometimes not so good preparations). Many would take time off which is more possible now since the working week has been reduced to 35 hours from 40 hours (entitling you to half a day off per week that you could accumulate). Many would take their car and just drive to work rather than take the metro. This is why we anticipate traffic jams everywhere on strike days though this did not happen really on the day of the 18th oct 2007 (but did on the 19th when the strike was partially extended without warning). Others will take bikes, rollers, mopeds etc. to transport themselves. And now since Paris has the Velib system (see my other blog entry: Paris on bicycle), this is an option that make striking days more bearable. However, the problem was that everyone thought of Velib that day. So, there were long lines of people waiting for a bike in bike stations that are woefully empty. A person who came along with a bike and returned it to the station was greeted with much joy as that meant the line was one person fewer. I ended up cycling across Paris for 45 minutes to get home which turned out to be quite pleasant anyway.
The wait for a bike happened again on a Friday. An interesting observation to illustrate the use of one of my sub stereotypes of Parisians. Whilst waiting, two guys were in front of me when someone with a bike arrived. The second guy, a very well dressed young man who had been clicking his heels impatiently and sighing loudly quickly grabbed the bike effectively cutting the line and went in front of the first guy. The first guy being young and I guess too polite did not say anything and sort of let the second guy get away with it. This is one of those moments where I wished I mastered the language enough to make some pointy but subtle comments about the guy’s behaviour. But instead, I just kept my mouth shut. I of course categorized the rude guy as the subgroup of egotistical Parisians who think they are good looking and so self-absorbed and full of self importance to the point of just being rude and deserving of a smack ! You see, frustrating little things like this brought about by the grève made me think that I am not quite home yet here…
That day, workers of public transportation have gone on strike. Striking or la grève is very much a French tradition as wine, good food and fashion. The big strike that lasted a while happened before I moved here in 1995. But since my arrival here I have had my share of grèves and have learned to take it in stride.
Living with the strike
The first time I experienced the strike, I was very angry and frustrated. I thought it was very egotistical of these transport workers to stop all transport to have what they want without thinking of others who still have to go to work and go about their business. However, having lived here, I finally understand and if have not yet learned to accept it fully, at least have learned to live with it without the anger and the frustration. Conflict is part of the French life. And the assumption in non friendship interpersonal relationship (between colleagues, between those in power and not in power, between supervisors and employees) tend to be that they will fuck you over if you don’t do something first (or sometimes, they will fuck you over if you don’t fuck them over first!). When potential disagreements arise (or mostly when unfavourable decisions or ideas are voiced by those in power), others take the conflict right away and call for a strike as a way to show power their way. The public transportation strike of the 18 oct was a show of force of unions and workers against those in power that have taken the decision to change the retirement age of these workers (Considered to be hard labourers, they have the right to retirement earlier than non hard labourers which the government is now attempting to take).
Bizarrely, people don’t negotiate first and then go on strike (which I think is what tends to happen in other countries such as Germany) if the negotiation fails. This is especially true in the relation between workers and government. However, having had to deal with the French administration, I now understand the need for this show of power on the street. French administration being so complicated, going through the regular channels would probably take forever and ineffective with the diffusion of responsibilities inherent in the system. In the hierarchical system, I guess there is always one person who is responsible, but before you get there, there are so many red tapes and hoops and holes that one must pass. Expressing anger and discontent seems to be an accepted part of French life even in everyday lives (Come to think of it, how many times have I observed spontaneous expression of Joie or happiness aside from in sport events when the French team wins? Not many actually).
Tackling the strike
Strikes would generally be announced in advance as warning has to be given to the government about this action being taken by workers. So, being good Parisians we take preparations to deal with this (and sometimes not so good preparations). Many would take time off which is more possible now since the working week has been reduced to 35 hours from 40 hours (entitling you to half a day off per week that you could accumulate). Many would take their car and just drive to work rather than take the metro. This is why we anticipate traffic jams everywhere on strike days though this did not happen really on the day of the 18th oct 2007 (but did on the 19th when the strike was partially extended without warning). Others will take bikes, rollers, mopeds etc. to transport themselves. And now since Paris has the Velib system (see my other blog entry: Paris on bicycle), this is an option that make striking days more bearable. However, the problem was that everyone thought of Velib that day. So, there were long lines of people waiting for a bike in bike stations that are woefully empty. A person who came along with a bike and returned it to the station was greeted with much joy as that meant the line was one person fewer. I ended up cycling across Paris for 45 minutes to get home which turned out to be quite pleasant anyway.
The wait for a bike happened again on a Friday. An interesting observation to illustrate the use of one of my sub stereotypes of Parisians. Whilst waiting, two guys were in front of me when someone with a bike arrived. The second guy, a very well dressed young man who had been clicking his heels impatiently and sighing loudly quickly grabbed the bike effectively cutting the line and went in front of the first guy. The first guy being young and I guess too polite did not say anything and sort of let the second guy get away with it. This is one of those moments where I wished I mastered the language enough to make some pointy but subtle comments about the guy’s behaviour. But instead, I just kept my mouth shut. I of course categorized the rude guy as the subgroup of egotistical Parisians who think they are good looking and so self-absorbed and full of self importance to the point of just being rude and deserving of a smack ! You see, frustrating little things like this brought about by the grève made me think that I am not quite home yet here…
Friday, October 5, 2007
Paris distractions: tv & Cinema
Buying a tv: the french way?
I decided to buy a television set mostly to improve my French. I figured that having images to accompany what I hear would greatly facilitate comprehension of French and my learning new French words when I first moved here. So, armed with my new carte bleue (What the French call their credit or debit card), I walked in to a department store, chose a tv and asked to have it delivered to my house. This, apparently, was not how most French people do it. They never have their tv delivered to their address (they give a false address when asked as is done when one buys a tv) and always pay cash! Why? Apparently to avoid the audiovisual tax that is imposed on all tv owners. I did not know this, but could later understand why they try to avoid it as the tax was not cheap (I think I have repaid the price of the tv just within a few years). There are apparently inspectors who would knock on your door to verify that indeed you did not have a tv in the house (if you claimed not to have one) or that you have paid your a/v tax…and they would come at ungodly hours such as 8 in the morning or dinner time making it difficult for people to hide their tv. A friend used to refuse to open her door for unannounced visits precisely because she feared tv inspectors. Once she hid behind her closed door after peeking through the peephole whilst the inspector rang and rang the bell and the sound of her tv blasting away and no doubt audible to the inspector. This scene apparently lasted a while before the inspector gave up and left! The recent change in law has however made this cat and mouse game much more difficult and serious. Now, we declare that fact that we have a tv on the income tax form (and pay it together with the residence tax applicable to all living here or taxe d’habitation. Yes, nothing is free in France) and the phrasing of the question (of whether you have a tv or not) was worded such that lying would be considered much more serious by law.
tv programmes
With just outside antenna, you get about 4 channels. TF1 is a station that I find rather conservative and show American and big production French films (The stations tend to show full length feature films right after the news that begins at 8pm). France 2 and France 3 are the public channels and show American, foreign and French films that may include independent production films and documentaries. Programmes are often split between these two stations. For instance, during the French open that is shown direct, in the early afternoon we watch it on France 2 and then move to France 3 in the late afternoon. There is also M6 which is probably the most American channel (among those accessible to all, not cable), showing many popular American series but dubbed in French as well as full length films. And finally, the French German channel called Arte that I thought has the most international and audacious programming of all channels. Arte is in French in France and in German in Germany. So, you may watch the news and the person was speaking German and this would be dubbed in French for French viewers (or vice versa). Cables have changed things of course, but my building did not even get cabled until 5 years ago!
French tv
programmes were shockingly different to what I was used to in the US and to a significant degree, Australia. (Australia probably prepared me for France and in more ways than I realized, and made for a softer landing than if I were to move directly here from the US.) Whereas in the US evenings would be spent in front of one tv series after another of pure entertainment, in France there are lots of talk programmes. I am not talking about Oprah style talk shows, but discussion of serious topics such as politics and social issues. I find of course informative talks with people who are experts on the subject. However, often, talk shows have people that have nothing to do with the subject and who would discuss it as if they were the experts! In other words, we can see on tv what we say to each other over the dinner table. This is most curious as I care not to hear what a guy that came out of a reality tv show had to say about Presidential candidates, for instance. And sometimes they talk about nothing at all and just chat away as if they were discussing the most important subject on earth that should interest everyone. At times I felt like I was a voyeur in someone’s living room. Indeed, in everyday live the French is much more aware (and care) of political going ons in France and elsewhere compared to Americans (interesting to discuss it with friends, but not to watch it on tv). Politics, interpersonal problems and sex I think are the most debated subjects at dinners here.
On the other hand, the serious talk shows are excellent and do indeed inform with host or hostess that is sharp and does not mince words just to be nice. The host or hostess become celebrities in their own right, such as Christine Ockrent from France 3. Debates are real debates rather than polite exchange of opinions. This we find in everyday life as well. The Parisians and the French seem to appreciate those who stick to their opinion and may even be nasty about his or her beliefs more than those who were nice (and intelligent). Conflict does seem to be something that is perceived as necessary not only for an interesting conversation but, on a larger scale, for any changes in the society to take place. If I have the impression that the French seem to prefer status quo and avoid any changes, conflicts they love and see as legitimate means to start changes and resolutions. However, despite the agitations that may last a while and heated debates, in the end things stay the same.
french-speak on tv
Other curiosities on French television include the dubbing of almost all foreign films (including British and American films) in French. Public or private channels seem to stick to this practice pretty religiously, the exception being the French-German joint channel Arte who show films in their original language with subtitles. So, don’t get all excited when you see Desperate Housewives or Sex and the city listed in the tv programmes. Carrie, Sam, Charlotte and Amanda would be talking sex in French which to me had the same effect as listening to French rap a long time ago. Rap and French just did not seem to go together and to me it was like eating hamburger and French fries from a fastfood restaurant with a glass of good wine. I have overcome that now and have come to even appreciate French rap. But supposedly real NYers who get the jitters going outside Manhattan speaking French is still rather hard to swallow (not to mention, at that point for me, to literally understand what they said). Having finally gotten cable tv (more likely to show series in v.o. or version originale, that is in the original language) I was able to watch teva (said to be ‘feminin’ station, go figure). They showed Golden Girls in both French (early evening) and English (late at night)…frankly, Sophia and co seem to have acquired a different personality (i.e; were not half as funny) in French even when at that point I understood everything. I guess one cannot always translate the cultural references that the Golden Girls tend to make and take for granted nor the signification of regional accents and use of certain words (not easily translated, nor do they conjure up the same reaction or concept in people across the ocean….). I guess, I would have to ask myself how I could translate words such as Moxie (Blanche said, He said he liked my moxie) or just the concept that the name Shady Pines (or as Sophia says, the home) evokes in most Americans? Magnolia Queen (Blanche claimed she was one) was translated as Miss Mississippi (though the association is ok, I still wonder if it evoked the same image in the mind of the French!).
sex and tv
In contrast to their American counterparts, French tv stations are not at all shy about sex. I remember (on non cable channels at least) computerized masking of bare breasts etc. in American tv. Australian tv is less prudish (than American), but French tv takes the cake. Once 11 pm is past, you can see erotic films certain days (in which strangely, there is total nudity of the women but no frontal nudity of the men in these films). The station Arte often shows independent films that would contain total nudity of both men and women in regular feature length films or short features. Arte reminds me a lot of the SBS station in Australia (often called the Wog channel because of its ethnic or foreign orientation). PBS would probably be the closest though much paler American version of Arte.
cinema in Paris
Moving to the bigger screen, Parisians are avid movie goers. You can watch any significant movies ever made at any week in Paris (old or classic films may only be shown a couple of times a week, but they are shown still!). If you pick up the weekly guide listing movies playing in Paris, you will be amazed by the number of pages listing movie theatres (from the Cinema Complex with huge screen to small intimate theatres. Paris has hundreds of cinemas). New releases come out on Wednesdays and could be found in most mega complexes. There are also specialized theatres, playin
g independent production films or films of specific genre or language only. And there are theatres playing classic or non new releases which of course is a joy to one who only discovered the wonders of religiously going to cinema recently. New American films tend to come out about 6 months later than in the release date in the US. This might have something to do with dubbing. All films will be shown in VO (version originale, in English thus for American or British movies) at certain hours and in VF (version française, or dubbed in French) at other hours. Beware that titles might not be exact translation of that in English. Translation may be liberal and is adapted to the French. Having read and watched Harry Potter in French, I was most surprised to see that even names were translated (remember Wood who was captain of the Quidditch team? He is called Dubois or literal translation of the word wood in French!). Going to the cinema at about 10 euros a pop ain’t cheap, but still.
The theatre near Centre George Pompidou often shows foreign independent films that do not get the large distribution of Hollywood production films. To catch old classics or almost classics there are many small unassuming but charming independent theatres in the 6th arrodissement or the 5th toward Gobelin and Place Monge. My favourite theatres to catch new releases are in Jaurés (19th arrondissement). Indeed, even if these belong to a chain of movie theatres, the building and the site are worth the visit and a lot of planning seem to have taken place to ensure that the cinemas fit the particular character of the neighborhood. Hugging a canal with a building on each side (the two face each other across the canal), they were either a warehouse or an all purpose square nondescript building have been renovated and opened up with lots of glass instead of the original walls. There are cafés whose decoration reminds one of traditional Parisian cafes (and there is also a self service café for quick bites before films). Here you can sit in the café sipping your coffee and watching the boats on the canal and people passing by on foot, on bikes, or on rollerblades before catching your movie. Hey, la vie est belle !
I decided to buy a television set mostly to improve my French. I figured that having images to accompany what I hear would greatly facilitate comprehension of French and my learning new French words when I first moved here. So, armed with my new carte bleue (What the French call their credit or debit card), I walked in to a department store, chose a tv and asked to have it delivered to my house. This, apparently, was not how most French people do it. They never have their tv delivered to their address (they give a false address when asked as is done when one buys a tv) and always pay cash! Why? Apparently to avoid the audiovisual tax that is imposed on all tv owners. I did not know this, but could later understand why they try to avoid it as the tax was not cheap (I think I have repaid the price of the tv just within a few years). There are apparently inspectors who would knock on your door to verify that indeed you did not have a tv in the house (if you claimed not to have one) or that you have paid your a/v tax…and they would come at ungodly hours such as 8 in the morning or dinner time making it difficult for people to hide their tv. A friend used to refuse to open her door for unannounced visits precisely because she feared tv inspectors. Once she hid behind her closed door after peeking through the peephole whilst the inspector rang and rang the bell and the sound of her tv blasting away and no doubt audible to the inspector. This scene apparently lasted a while before the inspector gave up and left! The recent change in law has however made this cat and mouse game much more difficult and serious. Now, we declare that fact that we have a tv on the income tax form (and pay it together with the residence tax applicable to all living here or taxe d’habitation. Yes, nothing is free in France) and the phrasing of the question (of whether you have a tv or not) was worded such that lying would be considered much more serious by law.
tv programmes
With just outside antenna, you get about 4 channels. TF1 is a station that I find rather conservative and show American and big production French films (The stations tend to show full length feature films right after the news that begins at 8pm). France 2 and France 3 are the public channels and show American, foreign and French films that may include independent production films and documentaries. Programmes are often split between these two stations. For instance, during the French open that is shown direct, in the early afternoon we watch it on France 2 and then move to France 3 in the late afternoon. There is also M6 which is probably the most American channel (among those accessible to all, not cable), showing many popular American series but dubbed in French as well as full length films. And finally, the French German channel called Arte that I thought has the most international and audacious programming of all channels. Arte is in French in France and in German in Germany. So, you may watch the news and the person was speaking German and this would be dubbed in French for French viewers (or vice versa). Cables have changed things of course, but my building did not even get cabled until 5 years ago!
French tv
programmes were shockingly different to what I was used to in the US and to a significant degree, Australia. (Australia probably prepared me for France and in more ways than I realized, and made for a softer landing than if I were to move directly here from the US.) Whereas in the US evenings would be spent in front of one tv series after another of pure entertainment, in France there are lots of talk programmes. I am not talking about Oprah style talk shows, but discussion of serious topics such as politics and social issues. I find of course informative talks with people who are experts on the subject. However, often, talk shows have people that have nothing to do with the subject and who would discuss it as if they were the experts! In other words, we can see on tv what we say to each other over the dinner table. This is most curious as I care not to hear what a guy that came out of a reality tv show had to say about Presidential candidates, for instance. And sometimes they talk about nothing at all and just chat away as if they were discussing the most important subject on earth that should interest everyone. At times I felt like I was a voyeur in someone’s living room. Indeed, in everyday live the French is much more aware (and care) of political going ons in France and elsewhere compared to Americans (interesting to discuss it with friends, but not to watch it on tv). Politics, interpersonal problems and sex I think are the most debated subjects at dinners here.On the other hand, the serious talk shows are excellent and do indeed inform with host or hostess that is sharp and does not mince words just to be nice. The host or hostess become celebrities in their own right, such as Christine Ockrent from France 3. Debates are real debates rather than polite exchange of opinions. This we find in everyday life as well. The Parisians and the French seem to appreciate those who stick to their opinion and may even be nasty about his or her beliefs more than those who were nice (and intelligent). Conflict does seem to be something that is perceived as necessary not only for an interesting conversation but, on a larger scale, for any changes in the society to take place. If I have the impression that the French seem to prefer status quo and avoid any changes, conflicts they love and see as legitimate means to start changes and resolutions. However, despite the agitations that may last a while and heated debates, in the end things stay the same.
french-speak on tv
Other curiosities on French television include the dubbing of almost all foreign films (including British and American films) in French. Public or private channels seem to stick to this practice pretty religiously, the exception being the French-German joint channel Arte who show films in their original language with subtitles. So, don’t get all excited when you see Desperate Housewives or Sex and the city listed in the tv programmes. Carrie, Sam, Charlotte and Amanda would be talking sex in French which to me had the same effect as listening to French rap a long time ago. Rap and French just did not seem to go together and to me it was like eating hamburger and French fries from a fastfood restaurant with a glass of good wine. I have overcome that now and have come to even appreciate French rap. But supposedly real NYers who get the jitters going outside Manhattan speaking French is still rather hard to swallow (not to mention, at that point for me, to literally understand what they said). Having finally gotten cable tv (more likely to show series in v.o. or version originale, that is in the original language) I was able to watch teva (said to be ‘feminin’ station, go figure). They showed Golden Girls in both French (early evening) and English (late at night)…frankly, Sophia and co seem to have acquired a different personality (i.e; were not half as funny) in French even when at that point I understood everything. I guess one cannot always translate the cultural references that the Golden Girls tend to make and take for granted nor the signification of regional accents and use of certain words (not easily translated, nor do they conjure up the same reaction or concept in people across the ocean….). I guess, I would have to ask myself how I could translate words such as Moxie (Blanche said, He said he liked my moxie) or just the concept that the name Shady Pines (or as Sophia says, the home) evokes in most Americans? Magnolia Queen (Blanche claimed she was one) was translated as Miss Mississippi (though the association is ok, I still wonder if it evoked the same image in the mind of the French!).
sex and tv
In contrast to their American counterparts, French tv stations are not at all shy about sex. I remember (on non cable channels at least) computerized masking of bare breasts etc. in American tv. Australian tv is less prudish (than American), but French tv takes the cake. Once 11 pm is past, you can see erotic films certain days (in which strangely, there is total nudity of the women but no frontal nudity of the men in these films). The station Arte often shows independent films that would contain total nudity of both men and women in regular feature length films or short features. Arte reminds me a lot of the SBS station in Australia (often called the Wog channel because of its ethnic or foreign orientation). PBS would probably be the closest though much paler American version of Arte.
cinema in Paris
Moving to the bigger screen, Parisians are avid movie goers. You can watch any significant movies ever made at any week in Paris (old or classic films may only be shown a couple of times a week, but they are shown still!). If you pick up the weekly guide listing movies playing in Paris, you will be amazed by the number of pages listing movie theatres (from the Cinema Complex with huge screen to small intimate theatres. Paris has hundreds of cinemas). New releases come out on Wednesdays and could be found in most mega complexes. There are also specialized theatres, playin
g independent production films or films of specific genre or language only. And there are theatres playing classic or non new releases which of course is a joy to one who only discovered the wonders of religiously going to cinema recently. New American films tend to come out about 6 months later than in the release date in the US. This might have something to do with dubbing. All films will be shown in VO (version originale, in English thus for American or British movies) at certain hours and in VF (version française, or dubbed in French) at other hours. Beware that titles might not be exact translation of that in English. Translation may be liberal and is adapted to the French. Having read and watched Harry Potter in French, I was most surprised to see that even names were translated (remember Wood who was captain of the Quidditch team? He is called Dubois or literal translation of the word wood in French!). Going to the cinema at about 10 euros a pop ain’t cheap, but still.The theatre near Centre George Pompidou often shows foreign independent films that do not get the large distribution of Hollywood production films. To catch old classics or almost classics there are many small unassuming but charming independent theatres in the 6th arrodissement or the 5th toward Gobelin and Place Monge. My favourite theatres to catch new releases are in Jaurés (19th arrondissement). Indeed, even if these belong to a chain of movie theatres, the building and the site are worth the visit and a lot of planning seem to have taken place to ensure that the cinemas fit the particular character of the neighborhood. Hugging a canal with a building on each side (the two face each other across the canal), they were either a warehouse or an all purpose square nondescript building have been renovated and opened up with lots of glass instead of the original walls. There are cafés whose decoration reminds one of traditional Parisian cafes (and there is also a self service café for quick bites before films). Here you can sit in the café sipping your coffee and watching the boats on the canal and people passing by on foot, on bikes, or on rollerblades before catching your movie. Hey, la vie est belle !
Monday, October 1, 2007
Paris Cafés
If one was to say what words comes to mind when one thinks of Paris, many would probably say Cafés. Indeed, café is very much a part of Parisian life. We meet friends there, we think there, we write there, we break up there, we fantasize there (mostly about having an apartme
nt bigger than a shoebox), but most of all, we people-watch there. People watching is a favourite past time of most Parisians and tourists who come to Paris. Chairs in Paris cafés, especially on the terraces, would not be set up around a table to facilitate conversation; instead, all chairs face the street so we can easily watch people pass by. We huddle around one side of a table making for intimate (if shoulder to shoulder rather than face to face) conversation whilst all the while also enjoy the beauties that pass in front of us. Often cafés do not even have terraces but chairs are set up against the outside walls of the café on the sidewalk with tiny tables to hold our drinks. It is not uncommon for passers by to bump your table and spill your drink all over you (a very efficient if embarrassing ice breaker).
Traditional Parisian cafés of dark red awnings, floor to ceiling glass and rather dark wood-y interior, straight back rattan chairs, a zinc top bar to one side where people can stand and drink, and older waiters in white shirt and black pants (and black apron) are becoming rare in certain areas (for instance, in the 4th arrondissement). And soon, a very integral part of Paris café, namely cigarette smoke, will also disappear with the anti-smoking law that comes into effect next year (2008). This is such a shame. I cannot imagine a Paris café without people smoking and without smoke! Many cafés now have also been r
enovated to look modern with bright primary colors (instead of the usual predominantly brown or other less bright colors) and comfortable chairs or poufs. Older male waiters have been replaced by hip looking young waiters and waitresses who indeed smile more and generally friendlier but often are less professional. The traditional professional waiters take pride in their job, unlike the new waiters/waitresses who are there to make money whilst waiting for something else to happen in their life. Professional waiters may be more arrogant, service less friendly, but those are part of the Paris café experience. And once you have their confidence, they can anticipate your every need (limited to café going, of course!).
In a café, you can either stand at the counter and drink your coffee or sit in the main room (salle) or in the terrace. The coffee would be priced accordingly, the cheapest being at the counter (about 1euros 50 for an espresso), followed by the salle (2 euro 50 or about) and finally t
he terrace (even more). If you order a coffee, they will probably serve you an espresso in a very tiny cup (but very strong and mostly excellent!). The other options would be a café au lait (or simply say crème, as Parisians call it). In more modern cafés you can order Cappuccino, Latté etc. but I prefer to stick with the traditional. Parisians drink crème in the morning (and dunking your croissant in it is an acceptable behaviour even in cafés), and espresso the rest of the day.
Drinking your coffee in the terrace gives the best view to watch people, but standing at the counter also has its advantages. Aside from the price, this is also much more conducive to conversation with strangers or with the bartender. People discuss and interrupt each other loudly. The bartender and waiters put in words every so often whilst zipping around like Speedy Gonzales serving and preparing drinks. Of course, you can order any other drinks in cafés, alcoholic or non alcoholic. In the summer, the green drink that you see a lot of people drink is called Menthe à l’eau (Normally, Perrier or other water mixed with mint syrup which is really yummy when you’re hot and thirsty). The pink colored drink is proba
bly a Monaco, a beer mixed with grenadine syrup. If sweet beer is not exactly your cup of tea, so to speak, try a Picon biere (beer mixed with Picon which is bitter and caramel colored syrup and comes from the north and east of France). White beer is excellent too (called blanche) and usually served with lemon. A popular drink before dinner (aperitif) is Kir. Normally, it is a mixed of white wine with crème de cassis (or blackcurrant creamy syrup). There is also the Kir Royal which uses champagne instead of white wine. But of course, wine is the drink that everyone associates with France. Drinking mostly red, I like to have either Gamay or Brouilly for aperitif as it is quite light. A side note: Given the importance and the choice of wine in terms of origin and prices, if you’re invited or are inviting people for dinner, the best way is to go to a wine merchant and tell him what you plan to eat. He/she would give you a very complete suggestion of what wine to drink with each part of the meal (aperitif, entrée, main course, cheese and dessert!). For instance, white sweet wine is drunk with fois gras if you eat it as an entrée. This would avoid unnecessary headache of choosing what wine to serve or to bring, and avoid a disappointed smile from your host or hostess when you show up at their door bring wine that would not complement (or may be kill) the meal (if invited, host or hostess often tell you what they will be serving ahead of time, so you can safely ask for suggestion from the wine merchant).
Tipping is becoming more and more common in Parisian cafés though, in fact, service is already included in the bill (unlike in the US). However, it is common practice to round up as a tipping practice, so not quite a fixed percentage of the bill as we do in the US. Also remember that a cup of coffee gives you the right to hog the table for hours without so much as a dirty look from the waiters or waitresses! This is just as well, as there are so many beautiful men to watch in Paris. Parisians I found to be sharp dressers (ok, maybe not all over Paris, but at least in areas such as the gay areas such as le Marais, and tourist areas and so called rich areas such as the 16th, the 5th, 6th, 7th, 8th arrondissements). Interestingly, tourists in Paris seem to have taken up the habit as well. OK, sometime we do see a group of Americans wearing the same baseball cap so they would not loose each other, but most actually seem to have tucked the traditional tourist garbs of shorts and t shirts (mostly on those whose legs were better off not shown to the world) in the deepest pocket of their suitcase or backpack. I love especially watching the Japanese tourists who seem to have successfully integrated French couture with their sense of refined dressing. Many friends who come to Paris indeed said they feel they should dress better here because they stick out when they take out their usual comfortable tourist garbs!
Cafés also serve food, mostly traditional French food that may not be as refined as restaurants but simpler though often not less good. Beware though that traditional cafés do not serve food at all times. The French are quite disciplined when it comes to eating (is that why they are all so slim?). So lunch would be served between 12 and 14h or 15h and dinner between 19H to about 23h. There are exceptions, of course. And there are also certain types of food that you can get at café anytime like sandwiches (baguettes with either cheese or meat) or toasted bread with cheese and meat (Croques Monsieur). Aside from Croque Monsieur, forget about wonderful hot sandwiches that we get in NYC or San Francisco. No Ruebens or Hot Pastrami or Corned beef sandwiches here! And they don’t come with chips and pickles either!
Living in the 4th arrondissement, I have seen traditional cafés go and are replaced by their more modern version that, to me, resemble a lot those I frequented in San Francisco or Sydney. A favourite of mine that still retains somewhat its old character is the Pick Clops on rue Vieille du Temple. Otherwise, I go towards Republique or further up towards the 18th and 19th arrondissements. Across the river Seine there are also cafés that retain their traditional characters such as those along the river Bank near Saint Michel. And of course, you probably want to pay a visit to those famous cafés of all times (at least for Anglos) Les Deux Magots and Café Flore. Always crowded, always noisy (with all languages) and have the most eclectic people as clients (from tourists to habitués who sit in their usual table, reading, writing, and smoking). Going there reminds me of how fun it is to be a tourist in Paris...
nt bigger than a shoebox), but most of all, we people-watch there. People watching is a favourite past time of most Parisians and tourists who come to Paris. Chairs in Paris cafés, especially on the terraces, would not be set up around a table to facilitate conversation; instead, all chairs face the street so we can easily watch people pass by. We huddle around one side of a table making for intimate (if shoulder to shoulder rather than face to face) conversation whilst all the while also enjoy the beauties that pass in front of us. Often cafés do not even have terraces but chairs are set up against the outside walls of the café on the sidewalk with tiny tables to hold our drinks. It is not uncommon for passers by to bump your table and spill your drink all over you (a very efficient if embarrassing ice breaker).Traditional Parisian cafés of dark red awnings, floor to ceiling glass and rather dark wood-y interior, straight back rattan chairs, a zinc top bar to one side where people can stand and drink, and older waiters in white shirt and black pants (and black apron) are becoming rare in certain areas (for instance, in the 4th arrondissement). And soon, a very integral part of Paris café, namely cigarette smoke, will also disappear with the anti-smoking law that comes into effect next year (2008). This is such a shame. I cannot imagine a Paris café without people smoking and without smoke! Many cafés now have also been r
enovated to look modern with bright primary colors (instead of the usual predominantly brown or other less bright colors) and comfortable chairs or poufs. Older male waiters have been replaced by hip looking young waiters and waitresses who indeed smile more and generally friendlier but often are less professional. The traditional professional waiters take pride in their job, unlike the new waiters/waitresses who are there to make money whilst waiting for something else to happen in their life. Professional waiters may be more arrogant, service less friendly, but those are part of the Paris café experience. And once you have their confidence, they can anticipate your every need (limited to café going, of course!).In a café, you can either stand at the counter and drink your coffee or sit in the main room (salle) or in the terrace. The coffee would be priced accordingly, the cheapest being at the counter (about 1euros 50 for an espresso), followed by the salle (2 euro 50 or about) and finally t
he terrace (even more). If you order a coffee, they will probably serve you an espresso in a very tiny cup (but very strong and mostly excellent!). The other options would be a café au lait (or simply say crème, as Parisians call it). In more modern cafés you can order Cappuccino, Latté etc. but I prefer to stick with the traditional. Parisians drink crème in the morning (and dunking your croissant in it is an acceptable behaviour even in cafés), and espresso the rest of the day.Drinking your coffee in the terrace gives the best view to watch people, but standing at the counter also has its advantages. Aside from the price, this is also much more conducive to conversation with strangers or with the bartender. People discuss and interrupt each other loudly. The bartender and waiters put in words every so often whilst zipping around like Speedy Gonzales serving and preparing drinks. Of course, you can order any other drinks in cafés, alcoholic or non alcoholic. In the summer, the green drink that you see a lot of people drink is called Menthe à l’eau (Normally, Perrier or other water mixed with mint syrup which is really yummy when you’re hot and thirsty). The pink colored drink is proba
bly a Monaco, a beer mixed with grenadine syrup. If sweet beer is not exactly your cup of tea, so to speak, try a Picon biere (beer mixed with Picon which is bitter and caramel colored syrup and comes from the north and east of France). White beer is excellent too (called blanche) and usually served with lemon. A popular drink before dinner (aperitif) is Kir. Normally, it is a mixed of white wine with crème de cassis (or blackcurrant creamy syrup). There is also the Kir Royal which uses champagne instead of white wine. But of course, wine is the drink that everyone associates with France. Drinking mostly red, I like to have either Gamay or Brouilly for aperitif as it is quite light. A side note: Given the importance and the choice of wine in terms of origin and prices, if you’re invited or are inviting people for dinner, the best way is to go to a wine merchant and tell him what you plan to eat. He/she would give you a very complete suggestion of what wine to drink with each part of the meal (aperitif, entrée, main course, cheese and dessert!). For instance, white sweet wine is drunk with fois gras if you eat it as an entrée. This would avoid unnecessary headache of choosing what wine to serve or to bring, and avoid a disappointed smile from your host or hostess when you show up at their door bring wine that would not complement (or may be kill) the meal (if invited, host or hostess often tell you what they will be serving ahead of time, so you can safely ask for suggestion from the wine merchant).Tipping is becoming more and more common in Parisian cafés though, in fact, service is already included in the bill (unlike in the US). However, it is common practice to round up as a tipping practice, so not quite a fixed percentage of the bill as we do in the US. Also remember that a cup of coffee gives you the right to hog the table for hours without so much as a dirty look from the waiters or waitresses! This is just as well, as there are so many beautiful men to watch in Paris. Parisians I found to be sharp dressers (ok, maybe not all over Paris, but at least in areas such as the gay areas such as le Marais, and tourist areas and so called rich areas such as the 16th, the 5th, 6th, 7th, 8th arrondissements). Interestingly, tourists in Paris seem to have taken up the habit as well. OK, sometime we do see a group of Americans wearing the same baseball cap so they would not loose each other, but most actually seem to have tucked the traditional tourist garbs of shorts and t shirts (mostly on those whose legs were better off not shown to the world) in the deepest pocket of their suitcase or backpack. I love especially watching the Japanese tourists who seem to have successfully integrated French couture with their sense of refined dressing. Many friends who come to Paris indeed said they feel they should dress better here because they stick out when they take out their usual comfortable tourist garbs!
Cafés also serve food, mostly traditional French food that may not be as refined as restaurants but simpler though often not less good. Beware though that traditional cafés do not serve food at all times. The French are quite disciplined when it comes to eating (is that why they are all so slim?). So lunch would be served between 12 and 14h or 15h and dinner between 19H to about 23h. There are exceptions, of course. And there are also certain types of food that you can get at café anytime like sandwiches (baguettes with either cheese or meat) or toasted bread with cheese and meat (Croques Monsieur). Aside from Croque Monsieur, forget about wonderful hot sandwiches that we get in NYC or San Francisco. No Ruebens or Hot Pastrami or Corned beef sandwiches here! And they don’t come with chips and pickles either!
Living in the 4th arrondissement, I have seen traditional cafés go and are replaced by their more modern version that, to me, resemble a lot those I frequented in San Francisco or Sydney. A favourite of mine that still retains somewhat its old character is the Pick Clops on rue Vieille du Temple. Otherwise, I go towards Republique or further up towards the 18th and 19th arrondissements. Across the river Seine there are also cafés that retain their traditional characters such as those along the river Bank near Saint Michel. And of course, you probably want to pay a visit to those famous cafés of all times (at least for Anglos) Les Deux Magots and Café Flore. Always crowded, always noisy (with all languages) and have the most eclectic people as clients (from tourists to habitués who sit in their usual table, reading, writing, and smoking). Going there reminds me of how fun it is to be a tourist in Paris...
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