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