Le Voyage

More on European censorship

noreply@blogger.com (Suki) — Tue, 06 Dec 2011 10:11:00 +0000

Already established: you can't view original footage of Hitler in Europe. It's forbidden.

New fact: you can't even view an ironic spoof, incidentally featuring English "subtitles" to Hitler's German speeches. So, for instance, I'd never find out WHY Hitler is mad at Kolaveri di.

If you're in Europe, tell me if you can open this link: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=e9uwkwauakI .

First World vs Third World, #2

noreply@blogger.com (Suki) — Tue, 22 Nov 2011 16:38:00 +0000

Third World: All cheques credited within 15 days. If not, you get the cheque back.

First World: 7 days to credit national cheque, 10 to credit international cheque IF you provide guarantee of payment, and 30 days if it isn't from your own international account.

Little thing that just happened to Suki and might not be a symptom of France in general: 20 days down the line, a call saying the cheque has been lost. Oh really.

UPDATE, 30 DAYS LATER: In the meantime, one learns that the cheque has been debited.
Response? "Oh, so it hasn't been lost!"

Aaaand on the 30th day... information from the manager that cheques actually don't take 30 days.

...

...

...

They take 45.

What's the bet that I'll post again on the 45th day saying it actually takes 60 days?

First World vs Third World, #censorship

noreply@blogger.com (Suki) — Mon, 21 Nov 2011 22:54:00 +0000

Third World Country: Uproar at certain IPs being blocked. IPs promptly unblocked.

Country of the Liberty, Equality, Fraternity: ANY videos of Hitler, any Nazi propaganda films... "not available in your country".

Racism or not? - #1

noreply@blogger.com (Suki) — Mon, 21 Nov 2011 15:48:00 +0000

Among the many clues that Europe could be highly xenophobic was this sentence from the mouth of a French Embassy officer in Delhi: "If the French seem reserved, c'est pas à cause du racisme(it isn't because of racism). They're just that way." No one had mentioned racism so far in the "orientation" session, so one is forced to wonder why he chose to bring up the topic. If one hasn't already been wondering why Indians need to be "oriented" to France and its ways. I'm sure it doesn't work the other way round!

Today, I got my first taste of it... if you ignore the times the white cashiers have chosen to completely ignore my presence and serve the Caucasians first.

Place: Metro Line 5
Time: morning rush hour
Scenario: Suki Mukherjee, leaning on the barrier near vestibule. Woman in her 60s(we'll call her Madame), sitting on the seat next to said vestibule, edging away from Suki so much that the young woman on the other side is nearly thrown off the 2-person seat, and there's almost but not quite enough place for a person to sit right under Suki's nose. Suki left wondering exactly why such measures are necessary.
Young woman descends. Madame shifts away from Suki, turning the almost into enough space. Suki looks at aisle where Madame's Monsieur is standing, catches his eye, sees no sign of him sitting. And therefore takes that seat.
Madame's remark, pointing at not-young woman standing peacefully and seemingly comfortably on other side of vestibule - "But she's older, isn't she?" Suki meets eye of said not-young woman, who signals her to stay seated with an embarrassed flutter of hands.
Was it excessive then for Suki to remark, pointing at Madame - "She doesn't want me to sit, does she?"
Madame, with a moue, says, "Oh no, c'est pas ça!"
But no one is sure c'est quoi, si c'est pas à cause du racisme.

What say you?

Epilogue: Not-young woman gets a seat opposite Suki, and remarks - "That's one unkind woman. Don't heed it, some people are like that."
Suki thinks it's better to stay in one's country than to live in the "First World".

Today's list of "things I want"

noreply@blogger.com (Suki) — Fri, 11 Nov 2011 14:12:00 +0000

1. Fruits and Vegetables! - Green beans, mushrooms, cucumber, lettuce, grapes
2. A baguette
3. Soy sauce
4. A leg or two of chicken
5. Toilet paper good enough to blow my nose on
6. Happiness

Hmm... I don't think they sell that. Yet.

Ah, studio life!

noreply@blogger.com (Suki) — Thu, 10 Nov 2011 16:00:00 +0000

There are some things only experience will tell you about a studio. Like...

1. Your entire home(and sometimes the corridor!) smells of the food you just cooked
2. A tungsten bulb is a good substitute for central heating. Actually, you'd like a way to turn the heating OFF rather than down!
3. Your study table doubles up as kitchen/dining table, and triples up as a window seat
4. You finally understand that Indian "cramped" flats are big. REALLY BIG.

Neither Mme Rodin, nor "la petite soeur de Paul Claudel"

noreply@blogger.com (Suki) — Mon, 31 Oct 2011 18:20:00 +0000

I hadn't heard of Camille Claudel till the day a friend called me to lunch without giving me her address. Somewhat wiser in the ways of the French, I took me and my free museum pass along the crowded Metro Ligne 13 down to Varenne. I was the only one to disembark there, and was greeted by a starkly empty platform... and two statues by Auguste Rodin. Varenne is the metro that gives access to the Musée Rodin. And it's in the Musée Rodin that I first saw sculptures by Camille Claudel, Rodin's long-time mistress.

Rodin's "The Thinker" and "The Door to Hell"("The Gates of Hell"?) need no introduction. If it does, Wikipedia can do the needful. On the other hand I don't think "The Girl with the Roses on her Hat(1875)", with her terrible, cavernous eyes, missing right ear and caved-in cheeks has received a fraction of the attention it deserves.

However, NOTHING by Rodin has been as undeservedly unnoticed as everything by Camille Claudel. Rather than spouting endless, unnecessary words about her, it's probably best to let her works talk for themselves.

1. Clotho (1893)

Clotho, daughter of Zeus, was one of the three Fates. The intricate detail of her knotted, flowing hair (or the thread of life she spins?) and her shrivelled flesh is a stark contrast to the strength and boldness of her posture.

2. The Bathers or The Wave (1897 -1903)

What startles me about this sculpture is the carefreeness of the bathers, just before they are engulfed by the huge wave that seems to have fists and fingers of its own. With the crest of the wave at eye level, it reminds me of an angry Triton.

What is truly, deeply saddening is the life of this woman. Read the Wikipedia article, it's taught me all that I know about her. I just bought her letters ("Correspondance" in French) for 12euro at the St. Ouen flea market this morning, and am planning to buy her biography (Dossier Camille Claudel) by Jacques Cassar. One can only hope that more people get to see and know of this woman's marvellous work.

Fire in Paris, thieves in Kolkata

noreply@blogger.com (Suki) — Fri, 28 Oct 2011 22:31:00 +0000

and both turn out to be false alarms. In the span of one hour.

You know, I thought France would be a bit different.

Rue Tagore

noreply@blogger.com (Suki) — Wed, 19 Oct 2011 17:23:00 +0000

Rabindranath Tagore. The man who has created the Bengali language as most Indian Bengalis know it today. The man who has composed the national anthems of India and Bangladesh. The man whose songs were the very first words I remember hearing in my own mother-tongue!

Little did I know that there's also a street in Tagore's name in Paris.

Voici, je présente... rue Tagore!

noreply@blogger.com (Suki) — Sat, 15 Oct 2011 12:10:00 +0000

And once again, I cook... a lonely meal for a lonely girl, a meal that misses the scathing criticism of the one who loves it the most.

Nostalgia?

noreply@blogger.com (Suki) — Wed, 05 Oct 2011 10:04:00 +0000

It would be well to keep in mind that France in its Golden Years was made up, not of the great writers and thinkers like Camus, Baudelaire or Lacan, but of those they wrote about. The thinkers, ceux qui réagissaient, are no more, but the plight that they wrote about still endures.

In Paris!

noreply@blogger.com (Suki) — Mon, 03 Oct 2011 17:16:00 +0000

It's curious that I find myself in Paris. Gets curiouser and curiouser.

Well, I had a few wrong impressions, none of which were helped by my overactive imagination. For instance, people don't go about mumbling "Bonjour" and nodding to every passer-by in the street. On the contrary, you're much more likely to be surprised by a random "Bon appetit!" in a tiny shop that makes amazing Chinese food.

Then again, I wasn't quite wrong about the fact that it's REALLY difficult to get around Paris if you don't speak au moins un petit peu français! Luckily, I seem to speak it well enough not to get compliments.

I've been advised "not to mix with Indians", and also to go shopping and make friends in shops... by talking about SHOPPINGGGG!!! or FOOTBALLLLL!!!! Well, that advice came from Indians. I suppose I shouldn't be "mixing with" those, at the very least.

The metro is the best thing that could happen to Paris, since it means a) fast transport, and b) less cars on the road. For an étrangère(foreigner? stranger? outsider?) like me, it also means a complete safeguard against getting irretrievably lost anywhere. On the other hand, it also means you have to walk, walk, walk walk walk... this isn't quite the place to take cabs for teeny-weeny distances.

The Centre Pompidou is worth multiple visits. But NOT on days like Nuit Blanche. Really, don't people have better things to do in an art exhibition than make out against the wall or take pictures in stupid poses in front of the exhibits?

More later.