Just Another American in Paris

18 Months Later......

2013-01-06T21:42:00.002+01:00

The United flight from Washington, DC to Paris arrives at 6:30 in the morning, a time at which, in late December, Paris skies are still pitch black and the only cafe customers are men taking their little cups of coffee at the counter. By nine, the key to our friend's apartment retrieved, codes entered and small elevators crammed with suitcases, teeth brushed and faces washed, the desire to take a good long nap put on hold, we made it to Trocadero to see a blinding sun peeking out from behind the Eiffel Tower. Ah Paris.

Being back in Paris as visitors was every bit as magical as I had hoped for in the long months since I paid big bucks for plane tickets for our family of four. Even though many of our friends were off on their own holidays, Paris showed us her best face with relatively mild temperatures and relatively little rain that allowed me to walk the quartiers almost to my heart's content, replaying favorite memories and revisiting favorite haunts. It was a greatest hits tour of Paris, a Paris where the sometimes frustrating rhythms and routines faced by residents were all but nonexistent.

There was one quick visit to the Orsay, newly renovated since our departure in 2011, a spin through Victor Hugo's apartment in the Place des Vosges to gear up for seeing the new Les Miserables film, and a morning at normally closed Musée des Arts Forains with Mary Kay of Out and About in Paris. But mostly, I was in the mode of absorbing the sights, sounds, and smells of Paris -- the click made by a big wooden street door once the proper code is entered, the delicious odor of baking bread and roasting chickens, the white and black of limestone and wrought iron silhouetted against blue skies. We had lovely meals at L'Entredgeu in the 17th and Abri in the 10th, ate more than our fill of fresh baguettes with salted butter, and went through carnets of Metro tickets like Kleenex. There was delightful banter with a salesman at the Marché Saint-Pierre, Lebanese crepes at the Wilson Market, rides along the Seine on the 63 bus, and the musical sound of French being spoken ringing in our ears.

In the end, I'd say that Thomas Wolfe got it completely wrong. You can go home again, as we did 18 months ago to the land of 24 hour drug stores, fresh bagels and hot salsa, lawns to be mowed and careers to be jumpstarted. And to Paris too, our second home forever more, the only question being --how soon until we can go back?

Au Revoir

2011-07-02T08:04:00.005+02:00

Create your own video slideshow at animoto.com.

By the time many of you see this video, we will be on a plane, winging our way back across the Atlantic to our home in Washington, DC. While I'm sad that our Parisian adventure is over and cannot watch this video without welling up, my heart is filled with joy from the amazing experiences we've had and the many wonderful friends we've made.

In writing this blog, I've been purposefully oblique about many details of my family life. The video finally reveals some of these, including photos of our neighborhood, my children, my husband, and yes, even one of me. As for the song choice, it's not a bit Parisian but the words seemed to capture what I most want to say to those with whom I spent time here and to Paris herself.

I remain undecided as to whether I will continue to blog back in DC. But if I do, I'll post here to let you know where to find me. In any case, my thanks to everyone who has followed along with our adventure. It was my pleasure to write about the experience of being an American in Paris and I'm honored that so many of you seemed to enjoy it just as much.

Of Rats and Men

2011-07-01T08:03:00.001+02:00

We're coming down to the wire here and I realize that there's not time to write about my visit to the royal palace at Compiegne, Anish Kapoor's Leviathan installation at the Grand Palais which I visited twice, dinner at Spring (after they cancelled our lunch reservation....grrrr), and half a dozen other things that I never got around to saying much about. So it goes.

But I could not leave Paris without taking the time to pass by the shop of Julien Aurouze on rue des Halles where it runs into rue de Rivoli. I can't remember where I first read about Aurouze but I was reminded of this firm, which has been in the business of exterminating rats and other vermin since 1872, when reading David D. Downie's book Paris, Paris. It actually had a cameo appearance in the movie Ratatouille in a memorable scene in which the main character Remy is taken by his father to the shop (where dead rat trophies hang in the window) to illustrate the point that humans can't be trusted. And yes, there really are dead rats, captured and stuffed around 1925, hanging in the window.

Even though I've never actually seen a rat in Paris, I looked at that window and thought, "Done. My Parisian experience is complete." The funny thing is though that of all the things I've since read about Aurouze's shop, no one ever mentions the fact that the business next door is a boulangerie. Yummy.

What My Husband Will Miss about Paris

2011-06-30T07:58:00.002+02:00

For one thing, the view right outside the front door of his office building. There's nothing quite like that in Arlington, Virginia.

Ten Things My Kids Say They Will Miss About Paris

2011-06-29T08:06:00.004+02:00

I've asked my kids many times to reflect on their experiences and it's a little bit like pulling teeth. And now that school is out, while they're happy to read for pleasure, writing is not high on their list of priorities. I'm sure one day they'll look back on this experience and be amazed by their good fortune. Perhaps, they'll even be moved to write about it. But for the moment, when asked what they'll most miss about Paris, the best I could do is this.

Bread, bread, bread
The métro
Watching the searchlight of the Eiffel Tower reflected in the courtyard outside my bedroom window when I'm falling asleep
Going to movies on the Champs-Élysées
Salted butter and speculoos spread
Being able to walk everywhere
Shopping on rue de Passy
Pastries
Going out to eat at L'Entrecôte
My friends

Rough life, huh?

Ten Days in Turkey

2011-06-28T08:04:00.001+02:00

If you've been wondering why I've been on radio silence with respect to your comments recently, it's only because we spent the past 10 days in Turkey, a kind of last hurrah for our international adventure. I managed to post plenty in advance of our departure but thankfully was disconnected from the computer for the duration of our trip.

Our Turkish holidays was a study in contrasts: a relaxing week on a gullet, a Turkish style yacht, cruising the waters of southwestern Turkey from Göcek to Andriake, followed by two nights in busy Istanbul. On the Mediterranean, our days were spent kayaking along the rocky coast, hiking to the sites of the ancient Lycians, snorkeling over sunken ruins, reading, and napping. With its pink sunrises, turquoise seas, and trails we shared only with goats, the setting was almost zen.

In Istanbul, our short stay was a whirlwind of visits to mosques, museums, haggling over carpets (which in the end we decided not to buy), and wandering both the busy Bazaar quarter and the quiet back streets of the Sultanahmet. Women in head scarves and those in full burqa; vendors hawking corn on the cob, watermelon, umbrellas, and ice cream; tour groups from cruise ships and families out enjoying lovely weekend weather; and the din of the call to prayer over tinny loudspeakers made for a colorful and chaotic scene.

A trip to remember? Without a doubt. And now our four last days in Paris, sure to be busy with chores and a last round of favorites, lie ahead of us. Ready, set, go!

Street Art Redux

2011-06-27T07:46:00.001+02:00

You could do an entire blog on street art in Paris (for all I know someone has) and once you start looking for it, it seems to be everywhere. Here are a few favorites that popped out at me during my recent forays around town.

In the 2nd:

In the 3rd:

In the 5th:

In the 13th:

In the 17th:

In the 18th:

Michigan?

In the 20th:

Hidden in Plain Sight

2011-06-26T08:03:00.001+02:00

Paris can be kind of coy. Her people take a while to warm up to you (or at least to understand your pathetic attempts at speaking French) and lovely spots are often hidden behind locked gates. Short person that I am, I walked past this entrance many times without noticing a thing. Then one day, riding the bus and perched high above my usual vantage point, I noticed the staircase and greenery within. These residents seem to have the best of both worlds -- close to the action on the street but buffered from the noise and fumes. Pas mal.

Ten Things I Won't Miss About Paris

2011-06-25T07:55:00.001+02:00

You've heard it all before but I'm saying it again, more than anything to remind myself that life in Paris, like life anyplace else, has its unpleasant and annoying moments. And even the trick of adding "in Paris" to the end of these phrases (as in "I'm sick.....in Paris, or "I just spilled coffee down the front of my favorite shirt....in Paris") doesn't make them any more enjoyable. So without further ado, here are 10 things about Paris that I'm pretty sure I won't miss:

Public urination
Bagging groceries
Calcium deposits from the tap that leave a brown sheen on the kitchen sink and a film of white on anything chrome

Strikes
Cold, gray miserable weather for days on end
Inadequate indoor lighting
Sidewalks mined with dog poop

The three semi-inebriated clochards who hang out on my corner
Living in a haze of cigarette smoke
The white tile on my kitchen floor

Remembrance of Things Paris

2011-06-24T07:58:00.002+02:00

There's an image of Ruth Reichl's Remembrance of Things Paris over in the sidebar of this page marked "What I'm Reading" But that's a lie. I'm not reading anything now. Maybe it's the craziness of moving or a yen to watch movies but for whatever reason, I don't have a lot of patience for reading at the moment. And maybe I've just had it with books about Paris. So to be honest, I haven't read every piece in this anthology of articles about culinary Paris originally published in Gourmet from the 1940s to the present. Some read like ancient history, describing a Paris that is no more real to me than a page in a dusty book. Others delve deeply into technique and dish out recipes with a daunting number of steps. And then there are some more contemporary memoirs, some sweet, some funny that touched just the right note. In particular, I enjoyed "An Insincere Cassoulet," by Michael Lewis, a piece I had originally read in the magazine back in 2001. I mean, who could resist these words?

Permit me to explain. As anyone who is honest about it will tell you, Paris is a city of vulgarians that has somehow cowed the world into believing it is the global capital of worldliness, a living and breathing arbiter of good taste. The Parisians treat each other and everyone else with a crudeness and contempt that would make a New Yorker blush. Yet for reasons as deep as they are mysterious, they retain the unique ability to convey an air of sophistication to anyone unlucky enough to experience prolonged contact with them. You don't live in Paris for the fun of it; you live in Paris to acquire, or seem to acquire, a bit of the Parisan ability to impress others with your worldliness.

Put another way, the whole point of living in Paris for a year is to let others know that you are the kind of person who might well have lived in Paris.

Put yet another way: Though I have arrived at the point where I can't wait to leave Paris, I don't exactly want to leave Paris behind.

Remembrance of Things Paris is probably not the kind of book you should plan to read in a single sitting, or even in a single vacation. Better to let it marinate on your nightstand, in your commuting bag, or wherever you have your morning coffee, ready to be picked up and delved into in small increments. Les Halles and Gourmet may both be gone but with this anthology, they'll never be far away.

La Tour Eiffel

2011-06-23T08:01:00.001+02:00

Because it's impossible to have too many pictures of the Eiffel Tower, right? In any season, under any metereological conditions, at any time of day, from any angle or distance.

And to think that the Parisians wanted to tear it down after the universal exposition in 1889! Nowadays, you can't say Paris without conjuring up an image of it.

Portrait of a Blogger

2011-06-22T08:03:00.001+02:00

Thought I'd finally post a photo of myself? Well kind of. I loved this bit of street art I happened upon while prowling around the streets of the 19th and 20th arrondissements. That would be me, walking and snapping.

Le Grand Bordel

2011-06-21T08:07:00.001+02:00

When I hear horns honking on my block, it usually means that someone has parked in front of a building entrance, blocking the residents from either entering or exiting. One morning last week, the honking was more insistent than usual and when I looked down to the corner, I saw this mess or as they say, un grand bordel. My guess is that there was a vehicle around the corner to the left, perhaps a garbage truck or a bus, blocking the one-way, one-lane street. But just what the fellow in the white car was thinking, the one turning right the wrong way down the one-way street, I cannot imagine. And of course, the motorcyclist was doing what they always do, weaving in and out of traffic, making time and making car drivers crazy.

Twenty minutes later, when I looked out the window again, all was back to normal.

Heat Relief for the French Palate

2011-06-20T07:47:00.001+02:00

The French adventure in Mexico during the 19th century pretty much ended in disaster. Perhaps it was inevitable given the clash in palates. This latest product by Old El Paso, which dominates the international aisle of most French supermarkets, has the tag line: toutes les saveurs du Mexique sans piment. I'm trying to imagine the reverse campaign: all the flavors of France without the wine and butter?

And a Bunch of Other Numbers

2011-06-19T08:02:00.001+02:00

My patience with this number series is wearing thin. But while I'm too bored to count all the way to 100 (and you do have to give me credit for getting halfway there), I have a few numbers from the vault to share. So without further ado, I give you:

If your taste runs to the classic blue and white metal, you can find the perfect souvenir of your time in Paris in the basement of BHV's flagship store on rue de Rivoli.

Past, Present and Future

2011-06-18T08:07:00.001+02:00

My heart is being tugged in three ways at once these days. A lot is already behind me: people whom I've seen for the last time; metro rides I won't make again; tears held back or wiped dry; experiences that have been documented, put in a box, and filed away. Then there's the planning for what lies ahead: appointments with doctors, dentists, painters, and home renovation contractors; reconnecting with professional contacts and friends; re-establishing accounts for gas, electricity, water, homeowner's and car insurance, cell phones, and Internet service. The present feels a bit like no man's land where I'm vacillating between trying to stay focused on Paris and already feeling a bit disconnected and at loose ends. Part of me wants to spend all day wandering the neighborhoods, soaking it all in for as long as possible. But another part is saying enough already and just wants to go home and take a nap.

But since naps make boring blogs, here instead are some things that caught my eye this week.

Rooftops at sunset and in the morning light.

A leggy, impossibly tall model posing for a photographer in the 7th.

A chandelier that can only be described as fabulous.

Views of the Seine and the Eiffel Tower from the pont de la Concorde.

Creatively designed window bars in the 18th.

The Commune

2011-06-17T07:54:00.002+02:00

This year marks the 150th anniversary of the Commune, a government that held power in Paris from March to May 1871. It's a period of history that no one much likes to talk about, perhaps because it was marked by so much internecine violence. Or perhaps because no one, left or right, is willing to talk about the failures on both sides. Whatever the reason, mementos about the period pop up around town, from the grafitti scratched into a wall in the 19th to a mural in the 7th, or streets in the 18th dedicated to the Commune's standard bearers.

Here's the Cliff Notes version as I understand it:

In early 1871, France was at a low point, having just lost the Franco-Prussian War. Paris had particularly suffered in this conflict; during the months long siege by the Prussians, there were severe food shortages and people were reduced to slaughtering pets and vermin to stay alive. When the Germans finally left, the city was in tatters, social and economic conditions at a low point. Discontent among the working class, that had been simmering for a decades, came to a head.

The future of Paris, however, lay not in their hands but with the national government which, like the kings before them, feared what Parisians might do if given the right to control their own city. And so the workers took matters into their own hands, forming a new government called the Commune and immediately issued various decrees issued to improve quality of life: educational reforms, separation of church and state, relief of debt for working men, and the abolition of night work. The national government and its army retreated to Versailles.

And then from what I can gather, chaos ensued. The revolutionaries were not fully prepared for the task of governing and the military powers were hell bent on breaking the revolutionaries at any cost. No one was willing to negotiate. Blood ran in the streets and fires burned, destroying many parts of the city including the Tuileries. At the end, the national government was triumphant, the revolutionaries shot or exiled. And nothing much changed.

And yet the fight continues. A conversation with friends who live in the 7th and 8th criticized a recent exhibit on the Commune at the Hotel de Ville as being predictably skewed towards the revolutionaries, the mayor of Paris being after all a Socialist. In the 20th, the mairie sanctioned creation of a mural celebrating the anniversary. (To fully appreciate this mural, click on the picture below and it will enlarge.)

And opposite this wall, a billboard calls upon local residents to join the spirit of the Commune in carrying out unfulfilled promises for social and economic improvement.

Vive la Commune? It's not for me to say. But as for keeping history alive and using it as a tool for social progress, I'm all for it.

Seen in the 17th

2011-06-16T07:54:00.001+02:00

Although I've given up on the idea of walking all the streets of Paris (or even all the streets on my Streetwise Paris map) before we part, that hasn't kept me from carrying the map with me and highlighting each achievement as I go. And it continues to give me a construct for weekend wanderings. If my husband is up for a walk, why not take on roads uncharted?

Last weekend we set off, map in hand, to explore hitherto unknown to us parts of the 17th arrondissement. And along the way, we saw quite a few interesting sights.

A lady walking her dog while riding a bike. You may have to look closely to see how this works. I was struggling to get my camera out of my bag as she pedalled off into the distance. Just above her right foot, notice the white horizontal piece of pipe. The dog was connected by a very short leash to the pipe and that pup had to keep up a pretty good pace.

A confusing street sign. Montenotte was a victory for Napoleon against the Austrians in 1796. General Lanrezac led French forces during la guerre de quatorze (what we Americans call the First World War and after all we didn't get into it until 1917). The name of the street was changed in 1927 but I guess no one had the heart to get rid of that beautiful mosaic sign.

A monument to the firefighters of Paris by Chinese artist Wang Du (who lives and works in Paris) . Since there were fire trucks of every size parked in the vicinity, my husband suggested trying to capture their reflections in the monument -- a great idea which, unfortunately, I was unable to execute.

An adorable little sign from time gone by. I've since learned that while groom translates as bell boy, this sign actually refers to a hydraulic device that ensures that the door closes, not to an actual person.

Four Years in a Map

2011-06-15T07:54:00.002+02:00

This map of Europe, a gift from my sister, hung on the wall of our apartment almost from the moment we moved in and very quickly became a living document of our travels. It was virtually impossible to capture in a photograph and I'm afraid that my husband's visit to Svalbard in the Artic Circle and our family kayaking trip along the south coast of Crete didn't quite get into the frame. Nor have we had the chance yet to mark the spots we'll visit on our upcoming vacation in Turkey (although Istanbul, the site of one of my husband's business trips, did make the cut.)

Looking at this map brings up memories of natural wonders and man-made treasures, great meals and mishaps in navigation, lovely hotels and quirky apartments, taxi rides gone bad and bracing boat rides, and lots of family time spent together. The funny thing about travel, though, is the more places you visit, the more places there are to see. Croatia, Ireland, Morocco, Slovenia, and Russia all beckon. Berlin and Bologna, San Sebastien and the fjords of Norway, we'll get to you some day.

Auvers sur Oise

2011-06-14T08:05:00.001+02:00

After two passes through the town of Auvers sur Oise with my hiking group which offered little time to soak up the history of Vincent Van Gogh's final days there, I finally made the time to go back in early May. With perfect weather and a great group of touring companions, it was certainly a day to remember. And it's one that anyone visiting Paris can easily repeat themselves via commuter train from Gare du Nord in about 40 minutes. There's just one change in Valmondois or you can get off in Méry sur Oise and walk about 2.5 kilometers down the hill and across the river to Auvers.

And what to see when you get there?

There's the home of Dr. Gachet whose portrait by Van Gogh you probably know.

Views that inspired Cezanne which haven't changed too much since his day

The tiny room where Van Gogh lived during the last days of his life

A museum dedicated to absinthe, also known as the green fairy.

And of course there's the church immortalized by Van Gogh and the cemetery where you'll find his grave and that of his brother Theo. I didn't take any pictures of those on this most recent trip but you can go back in time with me and see them here. We didn't make it to the Daubigny museum nor to the chateau except to have an incredible picnic (yes, they actually let you sit on the grass!)

Art, history, country air, good friends, good food, and champagne. Now there's a combo that's hard to beat.

Street Art

2011-06-13T08:03:00.002+02:00

After all the sunny weather we had in April and May, it's not so easy to go back to the typical Parisian weather -- cool and gray being the order of the day, pretty much any time of year. But after being cooped up in the house much of last week, I didn't care what the weather was when Friday rolled around. My friend had promised to take me on a tour of street art and how could I say no to that?

Turns out that the tour was one prepared by Adam Roberts, whose blog, Invisible Paris, I always enjoy. Adam's Paris rarely features fashion, chocolate or restaurant reviews. Thank goodness. Instead, his focus is a mix of architecture, urban history, art, politics, and sociology. This tour (which you can download for your smartphone at iTunes or in a .pdf if you're old school like me) wanders about the streets of Menilmontant and Belleville on the city's eastern edge.

But street art being what it is, some of it had disappeared since the last time my friend had done the walk. There were freshly painted walls in places, buildings demolished in others. But there were also new works, and one series, featuring a lonely looking fellow on a ladder, particularly captured our attention.

Every time we rounded a corner, there was another variation with moods varying from introspective to humorous to alienated.

At one point, we happened upon an entire wall populated with these figures. Regrettably, I did not note the exact location.

None of these works were signed and certainly not explained. So who is this mysterious artist and what does it all mean? I shot an e-mail to Adam and very quickly he found the answer. If you're as curious as me, you'll have to pop on over to his blog....the story continues here.

Thanks to Adam for his incredible responsiveness to my question. And a thousand thanks to Karen for sharing the day with me. Wherever you lead, I will follow.

The Forties

2011-06-12T08:02:00.001+02:00

The forties. Special numbers to me because these are the years I passed in Paris.

Back next Sunday with the fifties (which I hear are the new thirties.)

Metro Mishap

2011-06-11T08:02:00.001+02:00

Technical incidents, strikes, sick passengers can all create havoc with the morning commute. But an animal on the track? Let your imagination run wild with this one.

Time Series

2011-06-10T08:03:00.001+02:00

Okay, I said I wouldn't make this blog into a constant drone about our upcoming departure. But after spending three days inside this week while the movers did their thing, it's very much on my mind. Fortunately, now that we're over the hump, there's time to get out there and experience Paris. So stay tuned. Until then, I give you this time series.

Tuesday, June 1

Thursday, June 9

But the emptiness didn't last long. The temporary furniture arrived two hours after the last of ours left. So don't feel sorry for us. We can stay in our own place until we leave. It's home but not, perhaps part of a bigger plan to help us cut the emotional cord.

Dishing Up History, One Metro Station at a Time

2011-06-09T07:48:00.001+02:00

Métronome was on the French best seller list for months before it came to my attention. Actually I don't pay any attention to what's hot in the French press because most of it is way beyond my capabilities. (And just as an aside, do you know the French term for "best seller"? Yes, that's correct: "best seller.") The only reason I picked it up is that my French teacher thought it would be a good book to read together. And she was right. Written by French actor Lorànt Deutsch, the book tells the history of France through a clever conceit: 20 chapters, each named for a station of the metro and each representing one century. The tone is light, the stories well told, and the reading level was well within my grasp. (Not that I didn't have to have a dictionary on hand, you understand.) And even though I've read quite a bit about French history since the Renaissance, this book provided an easy introduction to the preceding centuries, beginning with the Roman founding of the city of Lutece.

Deutsch followed up on the success with a companion book, Métronome Illustrée , that follows the same formula but replaces prose with photos, maps, and captions. Francophone or not, it's the perfect addition to your coffee table or nightstand. And stay tuned. Deutsch is hard at work on a follow up volume to be published in 2012; a television mini series, produced by France 5, is also in the works.