Pigalle as we knew it...

Pigalle is known as the sex quarter of Paris (see my blog entry on Pigalle). But these days the places that have made Pigalle as it was are slowly disappearing. In their place, like in many other quarters of Paris are standard shops, cafés that you find everywhere else or even in other cities in the world.

One of these Pigalle ‘institutions’ is the Chao Ba in Place Pigalle (I wrote about this place in another entry). Chao Ba had a club, café, tea house and colonial atmospheres rolled into one. You could lounge in modern couches downstairs on one side or wicker chairs on the other side and upstairs. You could order any alcoholic drinks while munching on traditional Asian bites like spring rolls. Well, Chao Ba is no more. It was, suddenly, closed and boarded up. It reopened as Indiana Café, another café that you could find all over Paris and the world.

Another institution that is still there (but for how much longer?) is the sex cinema (ciné x) on the same Place Pigalle. This is a unique institution for transvestites, gays, straight men who like gays or transvestites or just horny men and couples. You walk in a fairly standard entrance (except for the sign outside, see photo, that will be recognizable as it has been shown in many photos of Pigalle), and enter the movie halls (they have two). These halls are dark, dirty and anything goes in there. Married and macho men could be seen chasing transvestites while gay men run after these macho men. The place stinks of sex. Yet, despite the fact that it is dirty (there are cleaner sex theatres all around Pigalle), full of pick pockets and all, it is probably the most popular sex place in Pigalle and could surprisingly grow on you. The ambiance in this theatre has changed with the gentrification of Pigalle that surrounds it…It is like the last bastion that is resisting fully aware that it is fighting a losing battle.

The French Identity

How we define ourselves, our identity if you will, of course depends on how we think about ourselves, our preferences, our attitudes etc. But others also impact our identity: I think I am smart because I compare myself to someone like me who is considered to be smart, or I think that I am interesting simply because other tell me that I am interesting and treat me like an interesting person.

Recently, there has been a lot of discussion about the French identity: What it is and ultimately though never said who could be considered as French. This is a very thorny political issue at the moment because it also brings out questions related to immigration and religions (in particular, Islam which is the second largest religion in France). These topics also are often brought up at the same time as insecurity leading no doubt to an association between insecurity and immigration in people’s head due to the simple fact that two are often mentioned together by politicians in the same speech….which may lead to the (incorrect) inference that immigration causes insecurity. But such is politics.

France is today a multicultural country, though it does not see nor recognize itself as such. This refusal to recognize itself as such may explain why children of immigrants (in particular who come from Africa or other non-european continents), despite being born here, despite having spent all or most of their life here and not knowing another country, may still be perceived and treated as ‘foreign.’ This is dramatic as these individuals are considered as French by the people from where their parents hail, but as from ‘there’ by their fellow citizens in France. This got me thinking of my experience in the US (I am myself of color and hail from Asia originally).
In the US, being American does not exclude those who are not of European background (this does not mean that racism or discrimination does not exist…au contraire!). It is more of an identity that defines a way of thinking, of behaving. In France, where history counts for everything, being French may also imply that you could trace your family tree forever to a particular region in France. That implies that you’re not, say, Arab or Asian or African (again, Arabs in France refer to people from North Africa and not Saudi, for instance). Thus, those born here of foreign parents find themselves in limbo because they feel French, but their fellow citizens do not consider them as one of their own in a real sense.

I realize that despite feeling very much French myself now, my fellow country men and women do not consider me as such. Indeed, I feel most French when I travel abroad. Not only because being in another country made me realize that my thinking, my behaviors, my preferences and how I dress etc are more French than anything, but others also perceive and treat me as French. So, in a bizarre twist, I actually feel more French in New York than in Paris ! No wonder I choose my friends carefully here in Paris: I hang out with a few French friends who seem to believe that once you adhere to the French principles, French way of life and philosophy, you’re as French as a Dupont even if you’re called Ahmed or Chung Hee. It is important that there is a coherence between how one feels and how others see one, or you may end up in Shady Pine...

Restaurant Indonesia in Paris

In Paris, there are two Indonesian restaurants….I wrote about the other one already (located near the garden of Les Halles). This restaurant has good ambiance, good food, and reasonable prices given the quality of the place and the food. Lately, though, I have been going to the other restaurant, located on the other side of the river Seine near the théâtre Odéon (and the garden Luxembourg) on rue Vaugirard (website: www.restaurant-indonesia.com). This restaurant is called, simply, Restaurant Indonesia.

This restaurant looks less fancy than the one in Les Halles….smaller and decorated in traditional things (paintings, batiks and bamboo on the walls), but the menu is no less extensive. You could get complete plates (You get a plate on which you find the staple rice or noodles accompanied by satay, gambas in a sauce, fried egg, and a small salade in sweet and sour sauce….) called Nasi Goreng (Fried rice) or Bami Goreng (Fried noodles). Then of course there are also the rijstafels a dutch word for rice table….they have several choices that would allow you to sample many many dishes (they are served on small plates and you get a piece of each dish which is excellent for getting acquainted with Indonesian cuisine). The choices combine cuisines from different régions in Indonesia. Remember that Indonesia is huge and spans islands with different cultures, languages, and cuisines that range from very spicy to less).

Restaurant Indonesia has an interesting history : it started as a coopérative that included Indonesian political refugees (in the political climate of the 1960s) and their French sympathisers. It has obviously been successful as the restaurant is still there and seems to be doing good business, and it is still a cooperative. This may be because the food is good and the price is extremely reasonable (a complete dinner with drinks rarely cost more than 30 euros per person). More important, I feel that the food is quite authentic...

Starbucks Paris

In recent past, you see more and more Starbucks cafés in Paris. Like any good Parisien, of course, I complain about how thetraditional Parisian cafés are slowly disappearing and replaced by thèse cafés that could be found in any city in the world. You could be in Paris, in London, in Jakarta, and the same Starbucks cafés could be found…which seems to defeat the real reason why we travel.

I do have to make an exception for one café, however, that I find capture the Paris expérience even under the sign of Starbucks. This café is more discret than other Starbucks you find around Paris. It is located on Boulevard Haussmann near the métro station Chaussée D’Antin. I love sitting on the outside tables on the wide sidewalk that lines the boulevard on which the café is located. Inthe mornings, especially, the café is less busy than others in Paris….in April, morning sun softly bathes the outside tables while you sip an espresso (about the only thing priced normally…the other coffees, being the fancy or unusual kind, would be double the price). The sidewalk also is very well frequented though not excessively…this means you get to engaged in Paris favorite activity of people watching. Another bonus, Surcouf (a computer store) is just across the street as is Sephora (a perfume store). Of course, the big department stores like les Galeries Lafayette is just mere minutes away.

That said, right next to Starbucks there is a traditional café with enclosed terrace. So, why go to Starbucks ?….well, maybe it’s the friendly young people working there (including an American who speaks French to you with a huge accent), and sandwiches that you do not find in traditional Paris cafés (vegetarian wraps, for instance), or the good ole American sweets like Cinnamon rolls, strawberry cheese cake etc. (though don’t expect American prices !).

Gay pride Paris 2010

This year’s gay pride in Paris took place june 26 (the date changes every year, so you have to check the web each time). As usual, the parade started in Montparnasse, going up towards saint michel crossed the river at the bridge Sully (Pont de Sully) and
finished at Place de la Bastille where there was a stage set up and a big crowd of people in all the cafés that surround this place.
I particularly liked this year’s gay pride that felt less commercial than the preceding years. Different associations always head the parade including Human Rights groups, organisations for the fight against HIV/AIDS, gay families and families of gays. There are also retired gay men and women. Couples that could be your gramps and granmas looking so ordinary they stick out like sore thumbs. I loved it. Instead of images of overmuscled men in leather string gyrating to the music on top of a decorated truck (there is one every year), the media should also show these regular people who look like everyone else including neigbors, families or whoever, but are gay!
There are also gays personnels from City hall, from the Police force, from the RATP which is the city transportation organisation (Homobus is what they called their float). The different political parties on the left (Partie Socialiste) and center were also represented though apparently missing is the gays from the right (apparently, cannot say if this is the truth, they boycott the parade because their political party, the right, has not kept the promise concerning gay rights. Only in France could a protest takes place as a non participation in a gay pride parade!).
Of course, there also a bunch of drag queens (always elaborately and fabulously dressed...what would we do without them?) and the sisters (don’t know if they belong to the order of Sisters of Perpetual Indulgence though).
The ambiance this year was really quite bon enfant and a good time I thought was had by everyone. Even the policemen (I guess there were policewomen but did not notice any where I was) who cound be found every so many meters and in different places in their vehicles seem to be enjoying themselves....
After a day like that, my friends and I decided to have a drink at La Chimère which is a nice little bar near métro Saint Paul. If you have a chance, go there and take a table outside (during happy hours, cocktails like in all Parisian bars are half price meaning about 7 euros). Try their melon or strawberry flavored Mojitos, mmmmmmm........Walking around le Marais that night, there are impromptu striptease in a street in front of gay bars and the streets Vieille du Tempe (near Central bar), Saint Croix de la bretonnerie (where the gay bookstore Le mot à la bouche is located) and rue des Archives (Open Café and Cox) were packed with happy people.

Le bal des pompiers: partying with the firefighters

A tradition that apparently started in the thirties (in Montmartre, which is a quarter in Paris near where I live now) Bastille Day is marked by a number of Bals des pompiers...meaning the ball (like party, so get your mind off the gutter for once) of the firemen/firefighters. These parties are highly popular and everyone can attend (for a fee, for instance for 6 euros you get in and get one free beer at the many stands that they set up in the caserne (caserne = fire station where firemen keep their trucks and stuff and where they sleep, eat and do whatever when they are on duty). The parties of certain casernes of Paris have become highly legendary that the queue to get in may snake several blocks away and 4 to 5 persons deep! This is the night when you could flirt with your heros (Parisian firemen are synonymous with heros) about whom you might have your wildest sexual fantasies (Generally, the firemen flirt with girls who flirt back that night in ways that would shame the most experienced gay man! But that is in public, in private, gay guys may just have as much as chance if not more lol).
My favorite is the one in the 4th arrondissement (rue de Séviggné) smacked in the gay area of Paris. After queueing for a while (and I mean it could be a very long while, but you could already admire the firemen who hang about assuring the security of everyone) and finally in the caserne, prepare yourself for body to body crowd either dancing, talking or just standing around admiring the beautiful caserne and the even more beautiful people who live in it (like many building in le Marais, the caserne of the 4th arrondissement is a beautiful old stone building with a big yard in the middle. This well-maintained building was even featured on a documentary on national television). On stage that is set up in the yard of the caserne, you might even see a group of firemen playing musical instruments and sing (No, you would not probably buy their CD, but for one night we indulge and applaud the heros on stage especially since they are feasts for the eyes!). Other bands may take over and give a real showto party goers. In another part (there is a smaller yard right after the entrance), there is music with DJ. The best moment comes much later usually. Around 3 am, certain firemen would go up on stage and dance to the piped in music and they might even do a striptease for you ! The night I went, they did strip off their shirt (not their pants, or the mystery would cease to exist I guess) while dancing like real disco queens or kings. Funnily, they never forgot to shout «This is for the girls» (just before they take their shirt off). But of course, many of the spectators are gay men from the hood or from all around Paris that come to this caserne because it is in the gay area. These men (ok, including me) would be the ones shouting «Take it all off !» the whole time the firemen are on stage. You should know that Paris’ firemen tend to be young, beautiful with a body to die for (they are, unlike the rest of France, REAL firemen who belong to the military corps I think).
The party would last all night, and the pompiers would by then be found on stage, behind bars (serving you drinks with a smile) or maybe snogging some girls (don’t know about boys, but again, we are in public here, they would not have shown their interest, if that is the case, in public). There would also be soldiers, French and foreign, who might have participated in the Bastille day parade that day, still in their uniform and looking completely sexy and in search of sex.
So, if you happen to be in Paris mid july, reserve the 13th or the 14th to attend these balls..
For those interested in history, as I said in the beginning the balls started in the Montmartre area of Paris....apparently the pompiers used to invite family and friends to the caserne on the 14th of july...there was food and orchestra etc which apparently attracted non relatives, neighbors or friends who started knocking on the doors of the caserne...this way, began the tradition of le bal des pompiers....
At the ball of this year, the caserne at rue Sévigné decided to do away with admission fee (you instead contribute however much you want) and since I went in the night of the 14th the line was actually shorter than usual (many people work on the 15th I guess. The ball in this caserne is held both the nights of the 13th and the 14th). Still, the ambiance is just great. You see people of all ages. For the first time I even saw a transvestite there (conversing with a very good looking fireman no less). Marines, legionnaires and other military units from France and other countries could also be found there having fun, drinking, dancing and ........

Modern life in France

France is a very modern country there is no doubt about it. It is also a very old country. All you need to do is look around and you see how far back France goes in comparison to the US or Australia.
Buildings date back to when the north American continent was still largely non white (like, I guess Red). When I was looking for apartments, I actually visited buildings that go back to dates unimaginable to those coming from the new world. A few of the buildings I visited used to be what they call here hôtel particulière or private castle that has been divided into apartments. In one fo these buildings in le Marais, I came across the widest stairways I have ever encountered in an apartment building (many tend to be narrow, especially when elevators were added later on, which took up the spaces occupied by these stairways previously). The lady visiting with me explained that this was to accomodate ladies in flare skirts that I guess used to visit the then grand if now not well maintained building. I could imagine these ladies with their hair piled up high, lifting their long skirt that flared from wall to wall climbing to attend soirées!
In many old buildings in le Marais which, despite the presence of several hotels particulieres, was apparently also for workers, you would see small toilets (I mean small, you’d better not be fat to fit in these toilets) in the stairways between floors. These go back to the time when apartments don’t have individual toilets and residents used these outside toilets. Nowadays, these generally non used (but may still be useable) toilets serve as places for illicit sex for some residents or places you could bring that someone you just met on the street you find exciting and dangerous for quickies ! Same thing for showers (one of the apartement in my building only has a sink and no shower)...this is probably why there are still public baths, not to be confused with hammams or sauna, everywhere in Paris (where for a fee you could take a shower I guess...have yet to visit one). It’s no surprise then that you would find a toilet in unlikely places in apartments (including in the closet like the apartment I occupied long ago) as these are added later.
One of the things that may also amuse you are the keys to your apartment. These are seriously ancient medieval looking keys which are large in size, heavy and look like they were made by someone pounding the hard metal into shape by his brute force!
So, don’t be surprised if you just got off the most modern airplane that is partly French (the Airbus A380) and walked onto a futuristic terminal building (CDG 2) only to find yourself in a hotel that have the toilets in the hallway or are handed a set of big old clanky keys. On the other hand, you may find yourself in a 17th century building accessible via keycards too! There was much discussion about whether the modern pyramide would go with the ancient buildings in the Louvre museum....but in fact this combo modern and historic could be found in everyday life in France.

The modern and the ancien that seem to coexist are also found in non physical institutions....Banking in France is another institution that still combines modernity and archaic ways. When you see French bank/credit cards, they will have chip cards, unlike American cards. These are very practical as you could pay everywhere and anywhere (apparently more) securely with your PIN. However, if you would for instance, activate an internet access to your account, you would still have to print the form and send it via snail mail. They will then send you your access code, again via snail mail (The code, like PIN for your cards, often cannot be changed which pose a challenge to remember all the different codes/PINs). Once, I noticed charges that appeared on my card statement that I never made. I notified my bank via telephone. This, however, had to be followed by a registered snail mail letter that is, get this, written by hand! Add to that a police report that you have to join to your handwirtten letter (When there were weird charges on my Australian cards, I simply called them and the disputed charges disappeared right away.). In banking as in many administrative things, sometimes ‘that is how things have always been done here’ primes over convinience and reasons....

A French Lover named Karem

In Australia and the US, we talk of French lovers as the ultimate lovers. They are passionate and good lovers that could transport anyone to the seventh sky (in French, septieme ciel). They may also be unfaithful which only makes them even more exciting. When I first came to Paris I wanted nothing more than a real authentic French lover. He would come in the afternoon after work with his ‘baise en ville’ (literal transaltion: fuck in town, non literal: a small bag where you could put the necessary for a quick tryst in an afternoon in town) and make love non stop until dinner time (hence the name cinq à sept lovers….lovers between 5 and 7 pm literally) before going back to his proper bourgeois wife. I would be left on the floor of my apartment in the fading light of Paris, bruised and blued but nonetheless with a smile and a fulfilled look in my eyes.

Well, that has happened indeed, though it has not left with quite with the fulfilled look in my eyes or an idiotic smile that indicates whatever happened just before has left me mushy brained. Interestingly, French men do not really believe in the stereotype that others have of them. Sure they know of it but men that I have met chortle at the idea. And even more interesting, in France the stereotype of good lovers actually are accorded to Arabs and Blacks. And contrary to French men, Arab men I know do know of this stereotype and proudly admit that it applies to them! The stereotype of Arab men is that they are CHAUD (literally, Hot. People will also say CHAUD LAPIN which literally stands for hot rabbit, a colloquial expression for someone who likes sex a lot) and always looking for sex, emotional and with admirable endurance. For Blacks, well, as in the US, they are supposed to be more generously hung than everyone else.

So, after a number of years in France, my French lovers tend to be named Karem and Samba rather than Jean-Marc or Francois….So, if you call and I don't respond, it might very well be that I was lying on the floor crossed eyed murmuring something in arabic or wolof.

Note:
If you're a gay male and you wish to make friends with gay Black and Arab French, there is a 'soirée' BBB (for Black Blanc Beur : Black, White and Arab...Beur is a slang for Arab French...literally it means butter of course)at Bus Palladium in Pigalle (Sunday evening tea dance).

French Kiss

It used to amuse me that the French kiss each other and shake hands a lot. When I first came here, every morning I felt like the President as I had to shake hands with everyone (yes, every morning, not just after a long period of not seeing each other) when I arrived at the office. With women, we kiss each other from the word go (that is, when we were first introduced); with men, we shake hands when we only know each other slightly or professionally but once we got to know each other it’s kisses all around). So, after a couple months or so, I always felt like Miss France as I would have to offer my cheeks (those on my face, of course) to be kissed or pucker my lips to kiss. One of the mysteries of rules about kissing is how many times people kiss each other. In Paris, we kiss each other twice, once on each cheek. When I was in the south, it was three times (so one cheek got two kisses and the other just a kiss), in other towns, it was even four times or twice on each cheek.

What may appear curious to Aussies and Americans is that French men kiss each other if they were friends. This no doubt contributes to the stereotype that certain Anglo friends of mine have: French men are gay or at least bisexual! Indeed, you might see a very virile looking guy (who probably works in construction) getting off his truck to meet another similarly dressed man (that is, dressed like a lumberjack) and also getting off a truck. They swagger toward each other and you could not be blamed if you expect a fight or at most a very manly hand shake. But instead they would give each other pecks on the cheeks! Often, when friends have not seen each other for a long time they would triple or quadruple the kisses exchanged….so once I was at Café Beaubourg with a French friend and there we saw a friend of his that he had not seen for ages…they exchanged kisses as if there was no tomorrow or that the night would last for ever. Yes, I think they first double the normal number of kisses to show their appreciation of finding each other again (in Paris, that means 4 pecks total) and lost count and had to start all over again (counting to 4 but lost track each time because at the same time they were gushing How are you’s and Been so long’s !).

But, or course, the most known of all kisses is the French kiss. That ultimate kiss that combines passion and love. Why do we call it a French kiss? I guess because we think the French are romantic, passionate and good lovers. The name the French have for what we call the French kiss is very vulgar though. Rouler une pelle is what they call it which could be literally translated as rolling a spade (as in gardening!). Not very romantic… in fact, downright unappetizing if you ask me. As a tourist, I used to admire couples ‘rolling their spade’ in each other’s mouth on quaint parks and bridges of Paris. It just seems so right since we believe that love is in the air in Paris. That is, until I learned that (rumor or the truth, I still don’t know) the city of Paris employs people to kiss in different places to maintain the image of Paris as the city of love. So, next time you see a nice couple who seem to be so passionately in love and kissing romantically on the Pont des Arts, look closer to make sure that they are not civil servants doing their job!

Monmartre Bus

As I have said elsewhere, I have left the fourth district (le Marais) and am now living in the ninth district of Paris (Anvers) just below Monmartre.
Now when one evokes Montmartre one tends to think of le Sacré coeur (the modern version of Notre Dame, though design-wise nothing like each other...An interesting tidbit about Sacre Coeur is that it gets really white after the rain because water actually starts a chemical reaction producing white color in the stones used to build this cathedral).
Of Monmartre, one also thinks of artists (painters are concentrated here as well as other artists) and of course, Village ! Montmartre does feel like a village with its small streets, neighborhood shops (still there despite the invasion of chain and less neighborly stores) and markets (food or paintings or junks).

Here I would like to give you a tip of a fun way for visiting Montmartre. This is via the public bus called (appropriately) Montmartre Bus. The bus they use for this route is electric and it is way smaller than the regular buses you see in Paris but bigger than minibuses that may be used for tours by tourist companies. The most interesting part of course is the routing. The bus will take you (if you start at Mairie du XVIIIe area, Métro Jules Joffrin) via all the small streets in Montmartre, passing the interesting places that could be found here (including Place Dalida, named after the famed singer that has become an icon of gay French). From the bus, you would be able to have an overview of Paris, circle le Sacre Coeur, worry about whether the bus would make it up the very steep incline of a very small street without scraping the skin of pedestrians already pinning themselves against buildings, or squeeze past between the sidewalk and a parked car.

The passangers of the bus would tend to be a mix between locals and tourists...the locals seem to know the bus drivers and banter with them freely. Best to sit in way in the back to enjoy the view, especially when the bus circle le Sacre Coeur (when you go from Mairie du XVIII to Pigalle)...you will be treated to a wonderful view of Paris including the eye sore Tour Montparnasse way near the Gare Montparnasse in the south (so you do get to see a long way off from here) as well as (quick though) the Eiffel Tower. Of course you could get off here and take the stairway down (or the little metro like funiculaire to go to the Métro station Anvers).

If you decide to get off the bus at Pigalle, you could see my other entry on Pigalle to get oriented...Indeed, the bus route is interesting also because the neighborhoods change as we mosey on the route...from the very mixed not very rich neighborhood to the rich on top of the hill of Montmartre and down to the, some may think, seedy Pigalle. But don't count Pigalle out (or consider it only for sex). Pigalle is cabaret also, night life, Amélie Poulin and all the rest that we associate with the original Paris!