Things we won't & will miss about Paris...

We are almost ready to leave, so we decided to make a list of will and won't miss.

WE WON'T MISS: 

Josh: dog poop, crowded metro, my apartment, the accent on french words, pickpockets, the rain, rats, the homeless, homeworks, the teachers...

Isa: the waiters in the restaurant, the teachers, the bank, the drunks and the homeless all over the city, the dirt, the rain, the dry-cleaning close to home, the security doors in the metro, the stairs to our front door, the smell in the metro, the weirdos all over town, the hairsalons, our noisy neighbors, the dust on the furnitures, carrying luggages in the metro without elevators, the clercks in public offices, Orange telephone customer service...

WE WILL MISS: 

Josh: crepes, baguettes, pain au chocolat, the view from the Eiffel Tower, the museums, my friends,
casual conversations with people you just met, going to buy groceries across the street all by myself, staying at home while mom and dad are having dinner in a close by restaurant, macaroons...

Isa: the musicians in the metro, the fromagerie and the boulangerie at the corner of the street, picnic in the public parks with cheese and wine, the old buildings, the cabblestone, the health system, my friends, the moules frites, the escargots, the courtyard of our apartment, free museums for the kids, the ads , my colleagues, the monokini, the farmer market every other day, the English bookstore close to the school, my Monday morning coffe-breaks with the other moms, walking around the city at night without fear, not using a car, the poems, french books, the chocolate store, crepes, les baguettes aux cereals, my Navigo card, rock salt, my son talking in French, smoking in a bistro, concerts in churches...

Welcome back !!!!

We missed you so much!! 
Love, 
Gio, Isa & Beppe

School is over !!!!!! Arrivederci !

After endless dictation tests, math, history, geography, poems,  painful spelling and grammar exercises, countless hours in the class, exhausting home works, several field trips...the school year is over. It seems impossible but it's true. No more 6:45 am alarm clock, no more rushing to the metro, no more Mme P. 

Josh made it, we made it. 

Pretty soon we'll be back to our "regular" life in L.A. and French will only be a weekly class in Pasadena. 

It's been hard but exciting...and the memories will last forever. The people we met, these amazing kids, full of energy, passion and enthusiasm, their parents, so inspiring and brave, with their incredible background of experience. We laughed, we supported each other, we visited together this city, we had breakfast and dinners together, play dates, we kept in touch for emergency situations, we shared fears, disappointments, but also happiness and pride for our kids. In this city where we were all, more or less, foreigners, we bound and held on to each other as a team. Without the kids and the parents we met, this whole year would have been impossibly hard. 

Each of them has his/her spot, in my memory, in my heart. Each of them shared some of their time with us and I will always cherish their friendship. 

last day of school in front of EABJM

the Cafeteria next to the school

at "Cafe' Cosmos" for our last coffee after drop-off

farewell party at Square Saint - Lambert

As a dear friend once reminded me, “Arrivederci” in Italian,  means “until we see each other again”. So, to all of you, arrivederci and thanks for this year.

Paris: city of light, love...and affairs!!!!

If you happen to go around Paris these days, look carefully at the advertising billboards that are located in various corners of the city, particularly in the subway stations. Perhaps, as it happened to me, your eyes will fall upon the gigantic pink posters advertising messages entirely unconventional, as theses: 

These are ads posters, somewhat audacious, of a popular website for extra-marital exchanges, which, in contrast to other similar agencies dedicated to singles, has no qualms to promote....yes, cheating! I admit, these ads are original and impertinent, although they look perfectly at ease in a city where infidelity is a value much more advertised than morality. Only in France?

School agenda...

I remember when I was in elementary school, my main concern in the late summer was to choose the school agenda. It had to be of adequate size, updated, easy to use but also trendy. The front cover above was to express in a single image, the personality its owner, or mine. Obviously, the brand agenda then determined the choice of the box, notebooks, folder. In short, every year my grandmother or my mother led my sister and me in the most supplied stationery store in the area and after about an hour we left with all the necessary for the school year. A real adventure.
Things have changed a lot: in the US, since our son started his school adventure, I've never seen a school diary. The teachers give each week a stack of sheets of papers to fill out and it all ends there. Not worth the effort for the kids to write every day tasks for the next day. Everything has been chosen and decided by the teacher: photocopies are already stapled by a class parent and distributed by the kids. Not worth the effort for the kids to write every day tasks for the next day. Everything and 'already' choice and decided by the teacher: photocopies are already 'ready and stapled.
Here it's as Italy 30 years ago: throughout the year Josh had to mark on his school agenda every homework for the day or the following week with results nothing short of .... exhilarating: our son marked the tasks on the first available page. Too bad the first page was the one corresponding to 27 August, while the school started on September 5! You see? Not only the agenda serves the purpose of empowering young people (they have to listen, understand, write, read, understand...) but also to enable them to appreciate the lapse of time, important facts as how many weeks are missing until the Christmas holidays, etc..

Although the school has almost 'comes to an end, are already' out the new agenda for the next school year. So, to continue the family tradition, I brought in Josh stationery store near the school and gave him "carte blanche" choose between the many agendas: there were of all colors, titles, photos, forms, etc..
Of course my son has immediately chosen the only agenda that certainly will not have the opportunity to use the Marengo: here it is.

 
That's right, those noodles colored with crowns on their heads and colorful clothing are "just sperm" ... "what 's wrong, Mom? Even my friends have this agenda ...". I know, there 's nothing wrong for a nation of libertines like the French, who probably use the school agenda to clear the tabu of sex already in elementary school ... but I doubt that the agenda itself would be considered as "appropriate" in the American school!

He chose the one with the Union Jack's flag. 

Emergency room in Paris...

Today I had to go to the Emergency Room at the nearby hospital Pitié-Salpêtrière (the one famous for Lady Diana's death....), which is one of the biggest hospital in Europe. 

I couldn't handle the pain any longer but there was no other alternative. The problem is that, not only it's a huge and extremely busy hospital, but we also are right in the middle of the high-touristic season so I expected a very long wait. I couldn't be more wrong. I arrived at 11:00 am and with nobody in line in front of me, I was registered at the "accueil" within 1 minute. I was only asked an identity card and my Carte Vitale. I used my Californian driving license, which they accepted without problems. Of course I had my Carte Vitale with me and they registered me as Madame Caire (so funny!). I was asked my french address, which I gave them. End of the questions. The guy was nice and kind and in excellent mood: he didn't have any problem with my accent and invited me to wait in the triage room where a nurse would take my vitals as soon as possible. Again I sat on the chair, psychologically prepared to the longest wait ever. The building is old (about 400 years) and didn't look sparkling and sterilized, but definitely cleaner that the County L.A.!!! At 11:25 am the nurse called me in the room, took my vitals and some generic medical information. I was assigned a code and asked to wait outside the door for the surgeon to visit me. I stepped out of the room, thinking: "Here is it, now it will be at least 2-3 hours....get out your book and read and be ready to alert another parent to pick up your son at school at 3 pm". Wrong. As soon as I sat on the chair, I heard my name being called from the other end of the corridor: I looked at my watch. It was 11:30....I couldn't believe it. The surgeon, a smiling 50-55 years old guy, dressed with his white coat with his name clearly visible, introduced himself and  started visiting me. His words were clear and he made also some effort to speak in English, just to make sure that everything was perfectly understood. He asked all pertinent medical information, much detailed, as I expected him to do. At the end of the visit, he typed all the information on the computer, went through all the details of the drugs he was prescribing me and asked me if something wasn't clear. He was very nice, polite and patient. The visit was finished. It was 11:50 am and I was ready to walk out from the ER with everything clear in my mind except .....the payment. I asked him where could I take care of the payment for the consultation in the ER and he told me that I would receive the bill directly at home (not more that 25 euros, according to him). Awesome!!!!! 

Can someone please explain to me what is the problem with socialized medicine? Because I don't see it!!!! 

Update (July 07): I just received  the bill in my mail box.....6.23 euros.....I don't know whether to laugh or cry !!!! 

Just walking around....

It doesn't happen every day, with all the rain we had so far, to see it from this point of view....

 

nor from this other point of view..... 

The Olympic fever in Paris...

In the past couple of days I noticed, in various Metro stations here in Paris, some interesting and certainly eye-captivating ads: the campaign promotes the Eurostar, a train that is well know for connecting Paris to London in just a bit more than two hours, as one of the sponsors of the Olympic games that are about to start in London this summer. But, as you can see from your eyes, there's more than that....

Here the Greek-style statues seem to have been used to mock the well known British stereotypes of athletic heroes, at least in the French view: overweight naked bodies with beer bellies playing darts and snooker! 

Perhaps the French company that is responsible for this ads is still suffering from the "defeat" (in terms of numbers of medals won) in Beijing....

I would love to see how the ads are in Metro in London... French athletes shooting snails or throwing goose liver instead of the javelin? 

Spring is here !!!!

That's right. The days are warm, it didn't rain for at least four days in a row (a record that I had not yet had the opportunity to appreciate since my arrival), the trees are covered with blooms... but here in Paris, the two major clues that reveal the arrival of this season are : 1) the bistros have removed their wind and rain barriers, there are no more heaters between the chairs and the people are back in the dehors, sipping drinks, eating sandwiches and salads at the tables facing, one after another without solution of continuity, the sidewalks of the city  

2 ) the city is swarming with kisses, hugs and caresses at every street corner, in front of schools, in the metro, in the gardens, everywhere you look... adolescents, adults, seniors! All flirting relentlessly sometimes with so much passion to leave stunned even the most uninhibited among us.

The French and love ... a cultural fact well known throughout the world. Even Italians suffer from the competition in this field. I must say that all French men have their own style, elegant yet intriguing, to approach women. One example? The other day, in the hospital, a man in his sixties was sitting on the chair in the hallway waiting to perform a radiological examination. After a couple of minutes another patient, a woman, walk towards him and sat next to him. The man, with the most natural and sophisticated tone, exclaimed: "How lucky are you today, my lovely lady, to sit right here beside me!" Only in France!

Street cleaning

Did anyone ever mention to you that Paris is a dirty city? After spending seven months in this city, I can absolutely assure you that this is true.  You walk around the city with your nose mostly pointed up to admire the beautiful monuments, the bow-windows,  the roofs and the facades... Everything looks so spectacular that sometimes you forget to look down towards your feet. In this city the probability of "messing up" your shoes is very high. Somewhere else, i.e. the rest of the civilized countries, people normally use trash cans, disposable bags for animal litter, ashtrays, etc. Here there is only one common garbage disposal: the curb. You can't really conceive the discrepancy between what is above and what is below the level of your eyes. 

But the French know that this is a huge problem, so instead of instructing and teaching their inhabitants (and visitors) to learn not to litter, what do they do? They implement the cleaning of the streets in such a way that every day, in all Paris, the curbs are fully washed twice. Additionally they adopted crews of sweepers and cleaning vans that carefully patrol all the streets. Hundreds of men and women, dressed in green, go around the city with brooms, pooper-scoopers, and all other tools and sweep about 2400 km (yes, everyday!!) of the city curbs. Needless to say,  the day after everything looks exactly the same, as in an endless cycle of poop and water. Let's hope these guys never go on strike!!!!

Defribillator in the Metro...

The RATP, which is the Metro Company in Paris, has installed several defibrillators in the metro. In theory, as explained clearly in their website, the device is designed to be used by people who have never used one before. It is a public-spirited gesture that needs no prior training.

Now, let's imagine the scenario: someone is laying unconscious on the floor next to this sign. The rescuer, in all probability not a medical doctor but a common person obviously in the middle of a panic attack,  picks up the inter phone looking for help. The voice on the other end of the phone most likely will say: "RATP a votre service, le poste de votre correspondant est occupe, nous vous demandons de rester en ligne et vous remercions pour votre comprehension". Let's face it: how many times do you hear French talk in English? Not so much. Additionally, this is one of the most touristic place on Earth. The likelihood that a non-French speaking (average tourist) vs French-speaking (resident) rescuer will use this device is  really high.

That being said, kudos to who had this idea and good luck for the unlucky guy who will need it. 

Health care

Where should I start? The beginning of this story goes back ten years ago when Giuseppe was in Nice and Josh was just born. Naturally the first thing we did was to register him under his daddy's Carte Vitale so he could get all the benefits of the French health system. Of course, not being officially married at that time, I couldn't do the same for myself but who cared, right? I am Italian, I was leaving in my home country, what else would I need?
Obviously things have changed. We are here for one year and if I need a doctor, I can't take a train and cross the border. Well, of course I could but it wouldn't be reasonable.
So in August, as soon as we arrived here, we went to the Securite Sociale to update Giuseppe's card such that I could be included as.wife. Sounds simple and pretty straight forward.
Wake up. This is France and you're dealing with public bureaucracy: compared to this, the DMV issue is a piece of cake. It turned out that we had to go to the office not one but three times, explaining three times the same story to the least collaborating clerk and then wait. Because they don't give you a damn receipt of all the paper works (opportunely translated in French because, God forbids, you can't expect anyone to talk, read or understand English...). Don't even think to solicit by making a phone call: you can literally see your nails grow back by the time someone will pick up the phone. And then of course this same person won't have a clue of where all your application is and he's going to transfer you to someone else. You know how this whole story will end, don't you. Total failure. Good thing the wine is excellent so you can relax your nerves...
Long story short: it's now March and last week I was finally able to put my Carte Vitale in my wallet! 

 
Hurray. Even better than in California! It took them only seven months to process the paper works! But now I can go to any doctor, laboratory, pharmacy I want, get whatever I need, pay upfront the entire amount (free medicine? that's  not what socialized medicine means), they'll swipe your card and...pouf! there you go, all your health information are updated (every single detail in a golden microchip, just like any credit card has all your account information, transactions and everything). and that's not all: you won't get hundreds of billing statements for the next six months as it happens in USA, where you end up not knowing how many times and how much you end up paying for the simplest surgical procedure: a bill for the labs, another for the room, one for the surgeon, one for the assistant, one for the ultrasound, etc etc. No, here your data go directly through their magical account system and in a couple of weeks you' ll get from your bank account a statement saying that you have been credited back seventy percent of all you have spent in the past month for your health. impressive, isn't it?
So it turns out that waiting so long was worth it and , yes, despite the initial problems (nothing compared to what we faced when we moved to L.A.) this France system is still my favorite.

Flea market

Take two kids, give them some money (about twenty euros, not enough to cause major damage but plenty enough to give them the sense of responsibility), give them three hours of time and place them in a huge flea market, as the one in Porte de Clignancourt. Then step back, somewhere between 5 feet, where they feel free and independent, and 10 feet, where you start freaking out because you see kidnappers and sexual harassers everywhere) and observe.
They'll stop at every little stand observing and touching and bargaining on every possible object (I was surprised to find out that they noticed furniture and paintings and art objects other than toys and clothing)!

Now, are you ready? Whatever you guessed they would buy (a toy, a fancy hat, a tool...), there's no way your imagination can catch up with theirs.
I'm almost sure I wouldn't come home with a pilot helmet (Giovanni) or a porcelain dog (Gabe). 

Memories of Paris

After the white hair, here's another novelty whose memory will remain forever linked to this city: eyeglasses.  

Two days ago, Josh's teacher sent me an email inviting me to have him checked by an ophthalmologist because it seemed that there were problems in copying words correctly on the board ...really? With all those accents, what did she expect? I thanked her and started the long search for an ophthalmologist who had a waiting list less than two months. I was lucky: after only five phone calls, the appointment was set for today. Obviously I did the math wrong with Josh extracurricular commitments, so I had to cancel her lesson in climbing! We arrived in pouring rain to the clinic and after about an hour of waiting we were received by a young French doctor, very kind. I was ready to act as an interpreter and instead, with amazement, I have seen the profits (eventually) in the first six months of learning the French language by Josh: he calmly explained to the doctor all the symptoms : fatigue, some headaches, blurred vision. Bravo Josh, this school is paying off! In short, the final diagnosiswas hypetropia (no laziness in copying tasks, such as I had initially thought ...) and the therapy are the glasses. I paid a visit to the specialist (90 euros, not exaggerated, given that with the Carte Vitale that I had carried with me I will receive a reimbursement of 70% directly to my bank account within the next two weeks) and I went with the prescription to the optician's shop next to the school of Josh. The kid was not particularly thrilled by the outcome of the visit, but when confronted with a wall full of colored glasses,  he seemed to have forgotten the initial shock and and he try a pair of glasses  after another for about thirty minutes. Amazing offer: two glasses for the price of one! Since I'm positive that  the first pair will be lost or will break within a week, we ordered two pairs, with scratch-resistant lenses, anti shock, anti-glare, anti breakage, anti theft ... in short,  bombproof. 

They will be ready in a couple of days at which point, however, there will be no more excuses for poor copying  the words in the notebook ....

Le Marche'

Of course going to the market here in Paris is an incredible and memorable experience. I've seen several markets in Torino that are at least three times bigger than the one in South Pasadena. But here, it's the atmosphere that captures you immediately. First, the organization: a full course of banquets, all morning occupies the curbs for at least a mile in one direction and another mile in the other, until noon. Then after an hour everything is gone. The streets are clean (well, at least according to the city standards). This occurs four times a week in hundreds of different areas in the city. In my neighborhood the market is on Sundays so I don't really have problems with the strict policy of shutting down all the food stores during this day.  Second: the variety of products sold here is incomparable: from clothes to music, books, furniture, flowers, you can spend hours (and hundreds of euros, if you want) going around this place. 

 

It's not just the regular food you would expect in a supermarket: there are whole hares (with the fur still ...), beef tongue (good with veal in tuna sauce, as you in Torino), beef heart or beef (not my favorite because the meat is too hard but my cat went crazy), kidney (another of my least favorite food: they have a bitter aftertaste and are too soft when you bite them, kind of like eating worms...), and then mushrooms, truffles, endless banquet of fruits and vegetables, first fruits, candies. 

And the cheese? How can you resist? The prices are always a little higher than in a supermarket but the  freshness is unparalleled: you are there, with your eyes fixed on a Morbier when the smell of a Saint Nectaire hits you and you wonder which one should you choose.. there's not really any choice here, you just buy them all, one week after the other, so that by the end of your year here in Paris your curiosity is fully satisfied, your soul is in heaven and your liver is in hell!

   

No to mention  the banquet of fish: sea urchins, prawns, scallops and oysters at will. The problem with the oysters is that, unless you have a kitchen equipped with every tool necessary, you spend at least an hour trying to open them and when you finally put one in the mouth, you wonder whether all this effort was worthwhile.

 

 

 

Yes, that's my thumb! 

Here is Josh and his first experience with oysters: he didn't know whether to be more curious about their taste or disgusted by their appearance. The idea of putting in his  mouth something alive was just  repugnant and there was no way to get him to taste a single one. I would say that between eating an oyster and practice an hour of math, he probably would choose the latter. It wasn't necessary though. Giuseppe didn't need to be begged twice: as soon as  Josh asked to be relieved of this torture, he took the opportunity to gobble up the last oyster. 

 

I was too busy to take care of the wound on my thumb: idiot! I almost cut the tendon. What a stupid way to to put a permanent end to my aspirations of working again as a surgeon!

It's snowing in Paris

Finally, after a month of rain, the weather changed and today we had our first snow! It's nothing like Torino or most of the cities in Italy but it's enough to turn this beautiful city in a spectacular one! 

The temperature was 14 F and the fountain in the center of the bassin at the Jardins de Luxembourg was completely frozen and all the ducks were relaxing on the ice! My mind went to a quote from the movie Fried green tomatoes : "this big flock of ducks came in and landed on that lake. And then the temperature dropped so fast that the lake just froze right there. And the ducks flew off, you see, and they took that lake right with them". Well, the lake, actually the basin, is still there. But the atmosphere was magical!

Just a regular week

This was just a regular week. Josh started it with a BDay party in a Laser Tag arena here in Paris. Of course he loved it: he's 10, he was dressed like a marine during a combat training, surrounded by his hyper excited screaming friend in the dark and he could shoot at any moving object! All his dreams came true.

Then on Thursday he came home with his French tutor (Margaux) and his friend Gabe: they did home works together and watched a movie in French. He seems to get better and better every day in his French and lately I noticed that he uses more his Italian to help him in the translation. Alla buon ora (finally!). Let's hope that he's going to get enough to continue when we are back in LA. I told him that there are sailing classes in France and that, if he continues to practice in Pasadena during next year, he might be able to participate to one of them. Catamaran? Who knows, why not. 

Friday morning I had my first experience with a bike here in Paris. This is such a smart idea: once you buy a Velib' card (around 60 euros/year but there are even daily tickets for so much less), you are entitled to take any of the thousands bikes that are parked  around the city and you can return it where you liked it. So much fun! I discovered streets and squares that were totally unknown and I realized that, despite months of walking, I am totally out of shape!!!!

Saturday Giuseppe flew to Jeddah, in Saudi Arabia, for a short workshop. The poor guy was invited from the University (business class...) and he's going to be back in 5 days. He'll see places where I spent my childhood, the desert, the dunes, the Red Sea..so many memories. I asked him to stop by the monument of the thumb...you'll see what I'm talking about. 

Today I took Josh to the Mass in Notre Dame: it was not just any mass, this one was in Latin and the children's choir sang Gregorian music. It was astonishing: just to sit there, in this majestic Cathedral, hearing prayers and lectures in Latin and listening to Gregorian chants and to think that someone, 800 years ago was having the same exact experience! Isn't it incredible? But of course we couldn't understand a word. I wonder if we would have understand better in French!

Le Metro de Paris

During the past four months I've seen several "curious" facts in the Metro: countless clochards of every age and nationality, musicians or pretended musicians (some are actually really good), artists of all sorts...I've seen several men peeing in the Metro (disgusting, Emily was in shock!)...but today I saw a pair of women's underwear on display on the wall, with the price tag still on. I couldn't resist. 

Here's the picture. I'm still laughing. I mean, I know the French invented lingerie in 1600 (at least, this is what they claim...but I don't want to get in the discussion), but shouldn't it stay "under" or in a shop?  

French etiquette

I'm back, after so many days. It was a  really a busy time, with my work and all the material for the project being shipped from L.A. (actually, Emily came along with them). So I spent a few days trying all the devices (springs mostly) and hopefully everything was ok. 

Emily came in the operating room with me...and she was out in a few minutes. I guess is easier for her testing astronauts than looking at bloody hands. 

And then, surprise, Mark, my neighbor from South Pasadena, came to visit and we went all together for a dinner at my boss's house. The funniest thing is that I told both Emily and Mark that, as a rule, in France, when you are invited for dinner at 8.30 pm, you shouldn't show up until 8.45 pm. I know, it's almost the same in Italy. It just gives the guest some time to relax before the people arrive...well, they actually didn't believe me so they were very anxious when we showed up at 8.35 pm...they thought we were late and that we were rude. 

It turned out that, obviously, we were the first one to arrive. In fact the other guests showed up from 8.45 pm afterword. Strange things happen in Paris...

So if you are invited for dinner in France, check some websites, as this one (under "etre recu"): 

http://www0.hku.hk/french/dcmScreen/lang2043/etiquette.htm

 

2 months in Paris

I just realized today that we moved here exactly 2 months ago. I'm shocked. Time is running and it seems to me that we arrived yesterday. Looking back, I have to admit that this has been the hardest transition so far. 

Moving to LA was a piece of cake... Perhaps it's because I have an older and more demanding kid. When we arrived in LA, Josh was 3 1/2 and he would never question my choices. Now, it's a complete different  story. 

The school is hard, even more than expected and at the beginning we were all a bit frustrated. 

We were expecting a romantic, smooth and enchanted move to one of the most beautiful cities in the world and BAM! Surprise, nothing was easy. So it was hard. 

But we survived and I have the feeling we are getting better every day. Our son is relaxed now, he made new friends (same language, obviously), he started using some French words, he regularly buys the bread and few other items all by himself without getting hysterical (I'm of course 200 meters away, watching him), his sport and extracurricular activities are better organized and closer to his school now. We found a "tutor" for Josh, he is 22 and lives in the area. He speaks also some English. In a few months our son will speak way better than us this language. 

I finally was able to organize my working days in such a way that I get one day off and I can stay with Josh most of the afternoons.  

Giuseppe is still very busy, even though he stays home on Tue and Thursdays, but he is always traveling (now he's in Paraty - Brazil). Hopefully he'll get some rest in a month. 

Step by step, we made it through this hard time. We still miss our home a lot, and our friends. But we're trying with Skype to keep up with them. Who knows, perhaps in the future someone will come to visit us and Josh will carry his friends around...Let's hope!