PARIS PAPERS VOLUME VI ~ MARCH 20, 2006

Sunset at Mont Marte

Dear Everybody,

I can hardly believe that it is time for another Paris Papers. It seems like I JUST wrote the last installment. But sure enough, it has been two weeks, and so here we go:

Update on the barricades: I have not had school since the last blog entry. So basically the students have been striking for 3 straight weeks and therefore I still have not had class. I am sure most of you heard about the nasty exchange at the Sorbonne: in protest the students took over, and decided to occupy the Sorbonne, something that has not been done since the really ugly student riots in 1968. The French police stormed the building with tear gas and riot gear to re-take the Sorbonne. My hosts tell me this is very symbolic. The French government felt they needed to take back the Sorbonne because of the symbolism of 1968. Unfortunately, this showing of force really irritated the rest of the students rioting throughout Paris, so now rather than just protesting the CPE law, they are now also protesting the (according to them) undemocratic storming of the Sorbonne. The really ugly thing is that neither side seems to want to back down. If anyone wants more information on this political business, your best bet (if you don’t read French) is probably the BBC, my school has been mentioned several times (Paris VII/Jussieu/Denis Diderot/Pierre & Marie Curie, my school has a lot of names). And what’s more, there are now anti-strike protests. There are students who want the schools to reopen, and so they are demonstrating against the strikers, and there is some mounting tension. As much as I would like to see the schools reopen, I am not about get involved.

In the absence of classes I am trying to stay on top of my work. I am still struggling with the format of a French “dissertation” (paper). I may have mentioned this previously, but you absolutely cannot take a stand on an issue in such a paper. You are given a question or a topic and have to explore and prove all facets of the issue, as opposed to in the states where you usually take a side and prove your chosen side with facts and sources. There are also specific subtleties that need to be followed in terms of certain key phrases that need to be in a paper and so forth. It is a very strict format to be followed, only I am yet to find any documentation of the particularities of the style, the French just seem to inherently know it. I never thought I would say this, but I would give my right arm to have to write a 5-paragraph essay format paper at this point! I also now have an additional paper to write in the place of one of my oral presentations. Since school has been inaccessible I have to submit a paper rather than give an oral report. This is a mixed blessing, I don’t have to speak in front of the class, and instead I have to write another paper in the French style.

I made this tart, see, I can cook!

The one class that I have been able to attend (because it is not affiliated with the Parisian University system) has been my French Cuisine class. We have made some amazing dishes. Our bœuf bourguignon was INCREDIBLE. This past week we worked with endives. They are not something I have ever seen in the states. They are sort of a lettuce/cabbage/leek vegetable (related to the chicory) that is VERY bitter when eaten raw. We ate them raw in a cold salad with apples and walnuts with a mustard vinaigrette dressing. Then for the main dish, we had steamed endives wrapped in ham and cooked in a béchamel sauce (cheese/cream sauce) that was out of this world! And for desserts, I can now make gateau basque which is beyond incredible, and a fresh fruit tart with almond cream which was so good I almost cried. Our instructor has also been bringing French cheeses for us to sample. Two weeks ago we had the soft cheeses of northern France (camembert, brie, etc), and most recently we tried five different kinds of bleu cheese (including the infamous Roquefort, which is not as bad as its reputation). So every Wednesday my classmates and I eat like royalty and what’s more, we learn how to cook some incredible foods.

Andrea and I hanging out at the Paris Opera House

Andrea and the Eiffel Tower from the top of L'Arc de Triumphe

The Pyramid at the Louvre, just like in the DaVinci Code movie trailer, except Ron Howard got to have the fountains on, and I didn't. I can't understand why! :o)

The Thinker and the Dome of Invalides

Napoleon's Tomb

Gargoyle at Notre Dame

Playing around at the Paris Opera House

The big news is that my sister, Andrea, was here with me in Paris for five days! We had a great time, and for the first time I was thankful for the strikes, because I didn’t have to desert her to go to classes. In her five-day sojourn we did it ALL! It was so fun for me to show someone around the city I have come to know so well. I took her to all my favorite places and did some new things too. Of course I took her to Mont Martre for Sacre Coeur and the Artists. I took her into the catacombs, which, as you may recall from previous entries, are fascinating in a rather creepy way. We climbed l’Arc de Triumphe, la Tour Eiffel, and the towers of Notre Dame. We took a guided tour of the Opera house which was very informative and walked past the infamous Moulin Rouge. We spent an evening wandering/getting slightly lost in the Louvre. We ate more pastry than any two people should in 5 days. We went to Sainte Chapelle (the church with the incredible windows), Invalides (to pay our respects to Napoleon), we visited our friend The Thinker, took a boat tour of the city at night, and walked what seemed like a million miles around Paris. We stumbled across a memorial ceremony at the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier, and heard the French National Anthem, La Marseillaise played live by a band. Andrea also got to venture outside of Paris by accompanying me on my group’s trip to Lille.

Lille is a city in northern France, former esteemed President Charles DeGaulle was born there. Unfortunately it was frigid (and I do mean COLD) and raining the day we went, so the beauty of the city was somewhat DAMPened (sorry, couldn’t resist). There were some nice medieval buildings and a gothic cathedral, but unfortunately the weather made it difficult to appreciate the location.

The Brewmaster

The beer, Amber and Blonde, both very tasty

After Lille we visited a tiny little brewery, literally in someone’s barn. Lille and the surrounding towns were part of Flanders for quite some time, and so the Flemish tradition of excellent brewery skills still lives on today. Now, I will preface this by saying that I am by no means a beer expert. They few times I have tasted beer I have not cared for it, however, the beer we sampled was AMAZING. There was no bitterness, it was flavorful and smooth. It was extraordinary. The owner walked us though the process of making the beer. Living in Merrimack, New Hampshire afforded me the opportunity of touring a Budweiser plant, but this was a slightly smaller operation and a little more intimate. I was present for my sister’s first beer ever (she is not old enough to drink in the states), and my parents will be thrilled to know that I turned her into a beer snob, I highly doubt that Budweiser would measure up to independently brewed Flemish beer. Either way, IF you should ever come across a beer called “Esquelbecq,” (they are exporting in small quantities to the US) I would highly recommend the blonde or the amber.

Following our little brewery adventure we visited a glass and crystal factory. It was interesting to watch the process. Sometimes it is easy to forget that the vessels we drink out of every day are actually made from SAND. It was very interesting to watch the machines that actually replicate the old art of glass blowing. Interestingly enough, most of the glass we still use is blown glass, it is done by machines, but it is apparently the most common way to make glass. It is also fascinating to watch the precision of these machines, and to watch them delicately handle thousands of pieces of glass. I also have determined that I would not like to work in a glass factory; it is intensely hot and loud. Sorry that there are no pictures for this section, we were not allowed to take any for fear of industrial spies (I am not kidding).

Andrea's Escargots

All Dressed up for Dinner on the...

... Eiffel Tower

During Andrea’s visit we found some nice French cuisine for her to try including escargots, some traditional Entrées. On a little tangent that may prove helpful should any of you readers visit France: in France the word “entrée” (derived from the verb meaning to enter) means an appetizer, and a “plat” is what we call an “entrée” in the states (the main dish), but to confuse you further, I was using “entrée” in the “plat” sense in the pervious comment. We also managed to consume a fair amount of crepes, pastries, and desserts. For Andrea’s last night we went to dinner at Altitude 95, the famous restaurant on the first tier of the Eiffel Tower. Having her here was spectacular, and I miss her now that she is gone, so please, if anyone else would like to visit Paris, you have a most willing tour guide at your disposal (that means me).

Sunset in Paris

Life got a little bit boring for a few days after Andrea left. The protesting heated up and I did my best to stay home and out of trouble, plus I need to relax a little bit after being the super-tourist. Friday was St. Patrick’s day, and I did wear green, though it is not as much of a holiday here. My friends and I did seek out and Irish pub, but the few we found were too full to enter, so we settled for crepes instead.

This past weekend I went to Belgium, I did however, get gypped, when you take the train from one country to the next, you don’t get a stamp in your passport! So I have no official record of ever being in Belgium! However, since that was the absolute low point of the weekend, I think you all can infer that I had a great time.

City hall in Brussels, it is too huge to fit into a picture, I tried from every angle!

The World-Famous Mannequin-Pis

I spent the first day in Brussels (which is spelled so many different ways). After Paris, Brussels seems so tiny and quiet. I was very nice. The Grand Place is gorgeous. It has the most elaborate Town Hall I have ever seen. However, Brussels’ most renowned monument is little more than a foot and half high. The Mannequin-Pis statue/fountain resides not far from the Grand Place. This is a small statue of a nude little boy done in the classical Greco-Roman style from the Renaissance era (I have to make this somewhat educational, otherwise it is just too silly), a peculiarity about the statue (aside from the obvious) is that the statue is of a man’s body (in terms of muscle structure) with a little boy’s head. And, as you can see in the picture, this world-famous statue is of a little boy peeing. Some Belgians will tell you that the statue symbolizes the freedom that they enjoy as citizens; I just think it is amusing. This statue has over 700 different costumes that it wears for different occasions, and there is actually a committee that oversees his wardrobe. And if this was not already silly enough, the statue has its own song. I am by no means making fun of Brussels’ mascot, but, you must admit to smiling about this monument, you turn the corner and there is this tiny little bronze boy piddling for all the world to see for all eternity.

The Atomium, which is allegedly what an Iron atom would look like magnified millions of times in a crystal state.

I took a bus tour of Brussels and was able to see the royal residence, and the official parliament of the European Union (EU). We drove by a rather odd looking structure, the Atomium which was build for one of the World’s Fairs, I suppose I should not call it odd, as the Eiffel Tower was build for the same purpose and it became the symbol of France. I also visited the gothic cathedral, and the ruins of a much older church underneath it. There was also a lovely little craft fair in one of the smaller squares.

Yum.

Of course, a trip to Brussels would not be complete without the consumption of a Belgian Waffle. In order to enjoy the full experience of Belgium, I decided that it would be best to go with the deluxe waffle with fresh strawberries, bananas, chocolate, and of course, whipped cream. There are no words to describe how delicious a true Belgian waffle is.

Me in Bruges

Canal in Bruges, look at how close the houses are to the water!

I spent the night in Soignies with the Halko family, who were INCREDIBLE hosts. They are fellow Americans who I met though one of my mother’s friends. We had a nice evening playing with their adorable daughters, and eating American food (steak and potato salad have never tasted better in my life). On Sunday morning, Elesha gave me the Grand Tour of Bruges (also spelled many different ways).

Hand-made Lace in Bruges

This is how lace is made

The roofs that look like the have steps are a form of Dutch archietcture

Bruges is amazing; it might be my new favorite European city (after Paris, of course). Bruges is a smaller city full of Flemish and Dutch style buildings. Most of the architecture is brick, and there are beautiful little canals that run throughout the city, apparently Bruges is sometimes referred to as the “Venice of the North.” Bruges is most known for its hand-made lace. I never appreciated lace before. I know that it is not something most people contemplate, but the process of lace-making is absolutely awe-inspiring. It takes hundreds of hours to produce a piece a little larger than the palm of your hand. Each piece is so delicate and so unique I was constantly reminded of snowflakes. Bruges is one of the last places that still practices the art of hand-making lace. It is passed down through generations. All of the winding little streets are lined with lace shops selling such beautiful work. As a quilter, and craft enthusiast, I now have a profound appreciation for the art of lace-making, what patience these people must have!

Michael Angelo's Modonna and Child

Bruges is a wonderful place. I just could not get past the simple beauty of it. To me it felt like a small fairy tale town with the cobblestone streets and canals. There were little flea markets and craft sales. There were horse-drawn carriages that clopped down the streets. There are beautiful churches. The “Church of the Lady” actually houses one of the few Michael Angelo pieces located outside of Italy. There is an original “Madonna and Child” in white Marble there. It is always a pleasure to look at the work of such a master (I am a frequent visitor of his “Death of a Slave” in the Louvre).

Bruges

Of course another Belgian waffle just happened to find its way into my mouth, and I also ate French Fries in their birthplace. Yes, “frites” (French fries) we actually invented in Belgium. And of course, the chocolates. I can now attest, without hesitation, that Belgian chocolates are the best in the world. They are delicious, positively scrumptious. The truffles are to die for! Fear not dear friends, I sampled them for all of you; I did so purely for your benefit. :o) In sort, I would highly recommend Belgium (especially Bruges) as a travel destination.

More Eiffel Tower

That is about all I have for news for the time being. Pictures are up over 4,000, and the weather is getting slightly warmer. I hope that you have enjoyed this latest edition of The Paris Papers. I do enjoy writing them, and I love hearing your comments. I hope that this finds everyone well back home. I will be back in 2 weeks with more adventures to share! Until then, I will remain your Editor-in-Chief and expert on my life in Paris,

~Monica

Sunset on the Seine

PARIS PAPERS VOLUME V ~ MARCH 5, 2006

Dear Everyone,

Welcome back for another dose of me! No travels out of France this time, but still I have plenty of news to share. Photos just hit 3,000 and my second journal is full. And I have quite a few cultural observations to share. So fasten your seat belts folks, we’re about to blast through 2 weeks in fewer than 5 pages (you hope)!

In the past few weeks I successfully survived my first “exposé,” which is basically an oral presentation on a text, usually a primary source document for History courses. I have decided that thought I am perfectly fine with holding a conversation in French, but I am not going to start making speeches any time soon, that is a completely different beast. Standing in front of 30 people giving a presentation in your second language is quite unnerving, and most of you know me well enough to recall that I have no qualms about public speaking. Exposés are particularly rough because when you and your group have finished your presentation, you remain at the front of the class as the professor proceeds to tell you exactly what you did wrong, literally a public whipping of your project. Not fun. Note to self: NEVER do that to a student, it is quite uncomfortable.

Barricade at Paris VII

On the topic of school: I have not been going to class much these past few weeks (as my advisors who read this gasp, don’t have a heart attack yet!). Remember the anecdote from the last edition about the French students commandeering my lecture? Well, they decided to be more forceful: they barricaded everyone out of school, literally. And I mean ACTUAL barricades, like in Les Misérables, literally piling furniture and anything they could acquire at the entrances and exits to prevent anyone from entering the campus. The first day this was quite shocking, but as time went on I discovered that this is a French tradition dating back to the Revolution; the French don’t picket, they barricade. After a few days it gets rather old, considering I still have to get up and take the Metro across town to see if school is open. This has been going on and off for about 2 weeks, and is supposedly going to continue into the next week. It just amazes me. However, in light of the barricades, my Sociology group mates and I have more time to prepare our exposé for that class.

I no longer have free Wednesdays, my cooking class has started. I think it is going to be an interesting class. Not only are we learning how to cook traditional French dishes, but we are also learning about the history of the art of cooking. So far I have learned that there are certain types of monkeys that technically “cook” (not as we define cooking) in the sense that they alter their foods in order to improve/change the taste. I also now know that the oldest written recipe is over 4,000 years old written on a piece of papyrus. In our first class we started with the basics: Quiches, crêpes, and salad. I can now make 3 different varieties of quiche (including the traditional Quiche Lorraine), a vinaigrette salad dressing from scratch, and crêpes (which are not as good as the ones my sister makes from my Poppop’s recipe). Anyone who has eaten my cooking knows that this is a miracle (usually I stick to boxed mac and cheese, or stuff that can be microwaved).

Me, Kate, and Katie skating at Hotel de Ville

What have I done for fun in the recent past? My friends and I went skating in front of Hotel de Ville (City Hall). It was really fun. It was a warmer night and one of the last ones before they dismantle the rink for spring time. I was excited to rent some hockey skates and be out on the ice. It made me miss the Alfond, though. It was really cool; there were all sorts of people there, lovers, families, groups of teens. We had a good time. And purely by accident I discovered something very neat, every Friday night, there is a bike tour of Paris from 9 to midnight. I am definitely going to go when the weather gets a little bit warmer!

The Cathedral in Vézelay

Inside the Cathedral

I spent a weekend in Burgundy (Bourgogne to the French) France with my study abroad program. We took a bus from Paris to Vézelay (VEZ-lay) a tiny little town with a beautiful cathedral (roman and gothic style). This cathedral was once a major stop for Pilgrims because it’s claim to housing a relic, an alleged bone from the body of Mary Magdalene. However, the church fell from prominence when other bones (allegedly belonging to Mary Magdalene also) were found in a completely different location and those were authenticated by the Vatican as her actual remains. We took a nice tour of the church, and the guide pointed out all the religious symbolism in the architecture. It is really quite interesting to see these subtleties and to learn of their meanings. For instance, near the alter there are 12 pillars, 11 of them are round, but one is square, and apparently represents Judas and symbolizes man's imperfection (every other pillar in the entire church is round to communicate perfection). There are also architectural sympols of the Holy Trinity throughtout the church. Vézelay is minute to say the least. It is a tiny little village nestled in the mountains with old houses and cobblestone streets.

The Lucky Owl in Dijon

From Vézelay we headed to Dijon. Anyone want to venture a guess at the number one export of Dijon? Yes, the mustard. We took a walking tour of the city. It is very nice; it seemed very tiny after having been in Paris for so long. We saw the big cathedral, and then the old church housing a rare “Black Madonna,” which is an apparent Byzantine-style statue of the Virgin Mary. The few “Black Madonnas” in Europe are shrouded in mystery. No one quite knows where they came from or what the symbolism is behind them. On the exterior of this church there is a stone carving of an owl, it is situated a little higher than my head on the façade of the church. No one is quite certain why the owl is there, but the natives believe that it is good luck to rub the owl with your left hand and make a wish. They do it every time they pass. We all paused to rub the owl, which is no longer recognizable as its features have been rubbed away by hundreds of generations of wish-makers.

Medieval House in Dijon

There are also some beautiful medieval houses in the city of Dijon. They butt right up against the modern shops. The architecture is very plain, but there is still a certain beauty to them. It is also an old custom in Burgundy to “show off” your personal success by having brightly colored roof tiles arranged in elaborate geometric patters. This apparently comes from a Flemish tradition. The roofs are very interesting in a variety of colors, but the best was to be seen the next day.

My friends and I had a little appetizer buffet in one of the hotel rooms sampling Dijon’s famous foods: honey, delicious honey spice bread, cheeses, mustard and wine. That night for supper we sought out a traditional dish of Burgundy: Bœuf Bourguignon. This is beef (usually shoulder) marinated and slow cooked in red wine with mushrooms and onions typically served over noodles. We found a quaint little restaurant and had quite a feast. We had appetizers (salade provencale with fresh mozzarella for me, others went for escargots), Bœuf Bourguignon, Burgundy wine (what a shock considering we were in the capital of this type of wine), and dessert (the best Crème Brulée I have ever had in my entire life!). We enjoyed a night out on the town.

Courtyard at Les Hospices de Beaune (check out the roof tiles)

The next morning the bus headed for Beaune (pronounced sort of like “bone”). Beaune is home to Les Hospices de Beaune. This was a home/palace for the poor. One of the Dukes of Burgundy spent a fortune creating literally a palace for the poor, which at one time housed 10% of the population of Beaune. The roofs here were covered in the beautifully colored tiles. The hospices offered medical care and shelter from the end of the Middle Ages, and continued providing medical services until the 1980’s. We took a tour with a very witty guide and broke for lunch.

Me and my friends drinking expensive wine (Me, Katie, Kate, Ashley, Christina, and Diana)

Dusty Bottles in the Wine Cave

After lunch we headed to our fine cultural experience: wine tasting. We actually went into a wine cave and got to taste a variety of fine wines. Some whites and some reds. We ever got to taste a “grand cru” which is the tip-top of the wine pyramid; some “grand cru” wines sell for $4,000 American Dollars a bottle. I have never been much of a wine fan (I first tasted it when I was 16 in Paris), but I never before appreciated the differences between wines. I always sort of believed that red was red and white was white. But there are the subtle nuances of the texture and different hints in the taste that I never noticed before. Some of the wines had a rougher feeling, some were very smooth, some had a sweeter flavor, some were bitter. It was a very neat experience. We sampled 6-10 different wines; you only get a couple of sips of each. It was a very cool experience, and I would highly recommend it as a cultural experience even if you are not a big fan of wine. It was just a really neat thing to do. So Burgundy was a nice trip and well worth a visit.

With my free time in Paris I have still been busy, although my tourism time is slowly being absorbed by study time as we get into the thick of the semester with projects and reading. It seems like someone is under the impression that we are here to study. The nerve of them! :o)

Luxembourg Gardens

I spent an afternoon wandering in the Luxembourg gardens. Even in winter they are very nice. There are statues of the Queens of France, and of the Ancient gods and goddesses lining the paths. There are fountains and chairs. It seems like a lot of people go to Luxembourg to run. I cannot wait to see the city’s gardens once it gets warmer and the flowers start to bloom. For a while it seemed like that would be very soon, but some recent snow, and hail, and cold cold rain has me wondering. However, the sure sign that spring is coming is the sudden mass entrance of tourists into Parisian society. They all came out of nowhere in the past two weeks. There was no gradual easing into it either. Simply: BAM! Tourists. I guess that is how you know you are getting used to living somewhere, when you start to see the tourists as a bit annoying, they clog the metros, and are just everywhere. Meanwhile, when I am not doing the school thing, or grocery shopping, I still play tourist. My double life of hypocrisy.

Invalides

I had intended to visit Invalides recently and pay my respects to the “Little Corporal” (otherwise known as Emperor Napoleon Bonaparte I), but they day I decided to go I stumbled upon a massive state funeral. There were police everywhere, and I heard someone say (after I left) that President Chirac was there. It is very interesting how you can just stumble upon stuff like that in Paris. I have stumbled upon a chateau, and little museums, and just this weekend, a massive fashion show. I could not go it because I didn’t have a pass, but when you are in a city with millions of people, there is always something going on. I also paid a quick visit to the Roman Baths (called the Thèrmes de Cluny).

St. Sulpice (still under construction after centuries of being unfinished)

I now would like to make a public service announcement: DO NO READ THE DAVINCI CODE BY DAN BROWN unless you wish to be incapacitated from page 1 until “THE END.” It is not possible to put this book down! I made mistake of picking it up as “Metro-reading” (something to occupy the 30-minute commute to school), and it consumed my life for the next 36 hours (I had to stop reading to actually do things). As a result of reading this book (which remarkable takes place mostly in Paris) I have had to return to the Louvre, and visit St. Sulpice church (both featured in the book) to trace the events of the novel. For anyone who has read it: there is nothing more incredible than reading parts of the book that take place at the Louvre, while you are AT the Louvre. St. Sulpice is a nice church with a sad history: it was never finished. The interior is lovely and reflects a number of different styles. The white obelisk seems slightly out of place and within the church, there is a thin brass line laid into the floor (just like in the book) however the church staff are quick to tell you that neither of these are exactly what the DaVinci Code claims. I also visited Saint Germain, a church near Saint Sulpice with a beautiful painted interior.

I have eaten some different things. I tried some salmon, which is a big step for me. I went back for a second dose of falafel. I now have been eating eggplant. I am still obsessed with kiwi. Recently my friends and I took a 1-hour sojourn into Americana and found an American Diner near my school. For the first time in months we ate real pancakes (shared a plate), not paper thin ones, real bisquick pancakes. We also found breakfast sandwiches, and I must confess, my bacon, egg, and cheese on a bagel was a thin slice of heaven. I also tried a little bit of goat cheese, but was not a big fan; it was a little too strong for me. And of course I ate the quiche we made in cooking class (my mother will attest that I was NOT a quiche fan as a child). And as far as pastry, I continue to broaden my horizons, anything goes in that department. I had basically a chocolate mousse “hot dog” the other day, it was heaven.

Now it’s time for some of my famous cultural commentary. I am still trying to figure out the “dog thing.” It seems that you can bring your dog almost anywhere in Paris, the Metro, the grocery store, Galleries Lafayette, anywhere. And not just little dogs, big dogs, like labs and Dobermans. This is something I find quite peculiar. The dogs are always very well behaved, but it just seems odd to me. Just the other day as I was buying my groceries someone’s cocker spaniel sashayed past me not even on a leash. This is always one of those wake up calls: “Hello, Monica, we just wanted to give you a quick reminder that you actually live in France.” As odd as it may sound, sometimes I don’t actually realize where I am.

I am finally getting used to the idea of “La Bise.” La bise, or “bisous” (bee-sous) are the kisses on the cheek that you always see people doing in movies but never actually believe that they are a real occurrence. Let me assure you, they are a real occurrence. You do not (especially as a woman) shake hands. When you offer your hand to someone you are being introduced to you get weird looks. You can shake hands with the vendors in the marketplace, but not social meetings. You kiss your friends (male and female) when you meet for coffee, or when you arrive in class in the morning. I am used to it now, usually with my French Friends I remember. Now I just have to remember to go back to the handshake when I get back to the states.

Another interesting thing: everyone in France smokes. I am not a huge fan of this cultural difference. However, this is quite interesting. In the states cigarette companies sort of tip-toe around the fact that their products cause cancer, and for legal reasons they affix little labels with the “Surgeon General’s warning.” Not the case in France, every box of cigarettes regardless of the brand has a rather large label that reads “Fumer Toue,” which for you non-French speakers literally means “Smoking Kills” in big letters. The back of the box also has a very large clear listing of the hazardous ingredients. (Please note that I have only had the opportunity to examine one of these boxes because I worked on a project with someone who smoked) I find this very interesting.

I suppose you are all tired of reading now, and I have gone on for long enough. I hope this latest entry finds everyone in good health and spirits as spring inches ever closer. I will be back in 2 weeks with more adventures to share, afterall, Andrea is coming and then I am going to Belgium! Until next time, dear readers… I remain your ever loquacious, ever witty,

~Monica