Kathy in Paris

Well, it is almost time to elect a President of France, and no matter who you are rooting for, observing the French election process is pretty interesting and very different from that of the US.

As in the UK, there seems to be a relatively short “I am running for…” time compared to the campaigns in the US which start almost as soon as the elections are over. I have to say I find that very civilized and a huge relief from the relentless primaries, commercials, and fundraising in the States. I always get to the point where I almost don’t care who gets elected – just get it done, for crying in the sink!

One thing I think is brilliant over here – the way they handle campaign literature during election time. About three weeks before elections at each school and Mairie (City Hall), they put up a “wall” of metal upon which you can hang posters. These are the only legal places you can do so! Graffiti is at a minimum, and except for the occasional mustache, the posters remain untouched. For a city where dog poop litters every sidewalk, it is kind of strange to me that campaign literature is so purposefully kept off the streets.

Last Monday I went with my friend, Michelle, to the Parc de Bagatelle, a beautiful park alongside the Bois de Boulogne. Bagatelle is a smaller parc, but beautifully landscaped – here’s what their website says about its history:

Well, it was stunning! The bulbs were in full bloom, the peacocks were displaying like mad, trying to impress the ladies, and the day was beautiful.

Eudes Boulangerie and Patisserie, a neighborhood favorite.

Much has been said about bread through the centuries – it is the staff of life, when something is outstanding it is “better than sliced bread,” Jesus talked a lot about and did a lot with bread and even money has been referred to as bread.

In France no one says it better than David Leibovitz in his blog: 

At last count, there are 1263 bakeries in Paris.

On just about every street, there’s at least one, if not two, or even three bakeries. Some of them are very good, a few are perhaps not so fabulous, and several are excellent. Parisians eat a lot of bread, far more than their American counterparts.

Visitors often wonder, “How come we don’t have bakeries like this is America?”

“Because people won’t eat bread in America anymore. Everyone’s afraid of it.” I respond

Tragically, most nod in agreement.”

You see, the difference is that the relationship between the French and their bread is sacred. It is daily. It is part of their DNA.

A meal is not a meal without some form of French bread to accompany it. There are Patisseries or Boulangeries on just about every corner in Paris, and specific Patisseries/Boulangeries become part of the family, part of the daily routine. You might have a favorite for desserts, another for croissants and other flaky goodies and of course a special one for the daily loaves required for each meal. Rarely are they all found at the same bakery.

For instance, my favorite Tarte au Citron (Lemon Tarte) is on the corner of the main thoroughfare in Puteaux. Best baguette/tradicion is behind the Sunday Market on  Rue du Chantecoq. Absolute favorite Almond Croissant is found at Quotidien in Paris – inexplicably, it is a chain that has the lightest, flakiest Almond Croissants instead of the usual flat, gooey ones found in every other Patisserie I have checked.

One other note of interest – vacations for bakers are mandated by the government in cooperation with the baker’s union. France, indeed all of Europe, usually goes out of town in August, but there are those who stay behind. Poor, hot devils. They cannot be left without bread. So, Patisseries get told when they can go on vacation. can’t have all of the bakeries closed at the same time!

Fascinating.

As I become, little by little, more familiar with the language, I realize that there is a real difference between “look it up in the dictionary” French and the French spoken by native speakers. It is, of course, the way “they” can tell if you are one of them. Well, besides your accent.

For instance when my granddaughter wants to be picked up, she says, “Dans les bras!” or “In your arms!” instead of “Pick me up.”

When my grandson is about to do something that might draw blood (and not in a good way), in English I might say, “That’s not safe!” no such expression in French. Instead they would say “C’est dangereux!”

I’ll add to this as I come across little linguistic oddities. If you know any, please post a comment and I’ll include them!

Went for a walk today with the AWG Power Walking Group. We all started out together, but it quickly became apparent that I have the shortest stride in captivity! As the distance between me and the rest of the group widened, I gave them all leave to cary on at their pace while I would happily stroll at my own. Although I missed catching up with the gossip and getting to know the new walkers in the group, it was nice to have the quiet, leisurely experience. I got a chance to take some pictures (I always think I am taking very artsy shots, and then when I look at them later I think, “What the hell was I trying to do here?”) which I will share throughout.

During the day the park is filled with joggers, dog walkers, strollers and nannies – everyone has a purpose. I have rarely seen anyone just hanging out. It is a very purposeful park. Just as the French are a very purposeful people.

At night, however, it becomes a totally different place. the thoroughfares are lined with white vans, and you think, “What is this?

Open for Business in the Bois

A plumber’s convention?” Until someone in the know points out the ladies ( and those who would like to be ladies) standing on the sidewalks projecting their best “come hither” glances. The vans are actually places of business for the ladies and wanna be ladies of the evening. It is big business, and you will see open solicitation taking place as you drive by. The French like to say that they don’t approve and that they would like to eradicate prostitution, but I have never seen anyone, law enforcement or otherwise, actively object. Admittedly, I do not spend a lot of time trailing the avenues of the Bois at night, but my sense is that the authorities turn a blind eye.

Anyway, the Bois is a lovely place, particularly now that the bulbs are all starting to surface!

Daffodils in March

Leaving tomorrow for 9 days in Florida and St Thomas, thanks to tickets sent by son Greg and sister Marian. So looking forward to seeing sun and feeling warm. Will be adding to this post as I go thanks to WordPress’ iPad and iPhone apps. So keep checking!

Greg and Sofi's house

Arrived safe and sound after a very strange flight. The plane wasn’t half full so I had lots of room, but about two thirds into the flight, the Captain announced that we were being rerouted due to a military operation. WHAT? Added 45 minutes to the flight. Customs was interesting, slow and disorganized, but I got through with a smile.

Lovely to see Greg, Sofia and sweet Carmen. They all think it’s pleasant, I think it’s hot. They have a lovely house on a canal, and I feel quite tropical. Out to Target!!!! today and maybe Chico’s. I am in heaven.

So, I can’t upload pictures on my iPad, but Chico’s and Target were fab. Spent way too

View from Greg and Sofi's back deck

much. Exhausted tonight, sitting in a puddle from the humidity and what I call heat. Going outside, Mosquitos or no Mosquitos. Got. To. Get. Some. Air.

Now that I’m home and have access to my computer, I can finish this entry!

My sweet daughter-in-law is convinced that air conditioning makes her sick. So, while I was there, no air. No cold air, no circulating air, no open windows if it was windy – no air. Hard on this hot-flashing Gramma. But, luckily, I was on the 3rd floor all by myself, and I can tell you that every window was wide open. So I was able to sleep. Good thing Greg likes the heat!

Went to St Thomas in the USVI on Monday to visit my sister, Marian who does believe in air conditioning. However, it was

View from the deck at Chez Mimi

breezy enough that all we had to do was open the windows and the sliding glass door to the deck. The weather was cooler in general, and we lazed around reading and doing computer stuff. She just got internet access which was lucky for me as I would have gone through withdrawal without it! Actually, you can walk up to the office where they have internet access for whoever needs it, but it is so much nicer to stay in PJ’s while you answer email!

We took several drives around the island and saw some spectacular scenery. Took some wrong turns and wound up in some interesting places, but it was all an adventure. I will say that the roads are, by and large, in atrocious shape. I felt beaten up each time we returned home! Here are some pics – Magen’s Bay was my favorite.

Left Mimi’s on Wednesday night to go back to Ft Lauderdale, and then took an early flight on thursday back to Paris. Being in the sun and the warm was great, but it’s good to be home!

Magen's Bay

Look really close and you will see a large iguana!

Getting medical treatment in France is not hard. Unless you count the language a barrier. Then you’re either in need of a translator (thank heavens for Jaime and Steph) or you search out and find pretty easily, an English speaking Dr. The American Embassy has a whole list, so it’s not too hard.

Typical Doctor's Office sign

However, you will pay lots more. My first visit was to one of those on the Embassy list and the visit cost 70 euros. Next visit was to a local French GP who did a great job for 23 euros. At first Jaime had to come with me, but now Dr. Millot and I can pretty much communicate between English, French and sign language, we get it done. Or at least I think we do.

When spoken to in fairly rapid French, I have a nervous tendency to nod and smile, thus indicating I understand. When I absolutely do not. I am trying not to do this. After totally missing some fairly important information, and having to ask my daughter to call back and get clarification, Jaime gently reminded me that nodding at the Dr made her believe all was well. This was a bad thing. I promised not to do it any more. I do this with the children’s teachers, too, when I pick them up from school. I haven’t missed any critical information yet, but if I continue down this ill chosen path, it is only a matter of time.

So, first, the exam room is in the same room as the Drs. desk. It feels really weird and somehow unsanitary, but there it is. No changing room, no drapes or gowns that tie in the front. I’m getting used to it, but it feels, well, just weird!

Next, prescriptions are given to you in duplicate. I have no idea why. The pharmacy does not keep a copy, which I think is strange, but it will print out what meds they sold you on the back of the original. If you don’t have a Carte Vitale (the French Everything is Practically Free Card), you pay full price. If you do have a CV, you need to ask for a special form which they will print out for you. To that form you must attach the bar coded stickers from each box of your prescriptions if you want to get reimbursed. Never throw out a box. Annoying as hell. But doesn’t apply to me as I do not have a CV. At least not yet. I may be getting one soon. And that is GOOD news!

Lab work and x-rays: when was the last time you actually held your own x-rays? Well here, if you have x-rays taken, you are the keeper of the actual films. It feels illegal. Your films will be read on the spot by a radiologist who will explain them to you. Again, in French, most likely. You will then take your films to your Dr who will look at them and give them back to you to keep. Do you know how big those suckers are?? I keep mine behind the bookcase – the only spot with enough height to support them.

You will be given 2 copies of any bloodwork you have done. One you will give to the Dr and one you can keep. I don’t think I’ve ever even seen my official bloodwork in the USA.

All in all, it’s a fairly impressive system. I do find myself pining for my Portland Internist and some good old American medicines like NyQuil and antibiotics with names I know and love, but I tell myself I am adjusting.

They do have one VERY cool thing – it’s called SOS Medecins – Doctors who will come to your house if you call them. Great for evenings and weekends. And not expensive!!

Secretly though? I think American drugs are better. Stronger, faster, and real-er. When you ask for advice on, say cough medicine, the French pharmacist is likely to try and slip you something homeopathic when clearly you need the real deal. No American pharmacist would think of doing such a thing!