Latest French escapades

Ok, I guess that's a teensy bit misleading ... I don't really do escapades. Mostly I go to art museums and eat unhealthy amounts of nutella. Although I've been cutting back, I swear! Mind, I've picked up a gummy worm habit instead, so I don't know that my sugar problem is actually getting any better ...

... but that's neither here nor there. What I've really been doing for the last two weeks is vacation. French schools run in 5-7 week sessions - I don't know what else to call them - each followed by a week or two of vacation. Thus after the first session, at the end of October, we had a week of vacation (this is when I went to Île de Ré), then after the second session was Christmas break, and now, at the end of the third, we got a lovely two weeks off.

The family I work for went skiing during the first week, and though they welcomed me to come along, I opted to house-and-cat-sit for the week instead, not being all that athletically inclined. I was a little nervous about being on my own for a week, but I got to spend a lot of time with the other au pairs in the area, and the cat kept me company at night, following me around the house with great dedication and sleeping on my bed.

That week really was nice. It gave me time to relax, get a few things done, sleep in, watch movies, and play the wii game "Just Dance" - which is surprisingly fun and addictive. The other girls and I cooked dinner together several times and generally just hung out.

One of the girls and I visited IKEA, which I think I shall write about next in its own post. It's kind of a big deal here.

The other big adventure of the week was visiting Chartres cathedral.

Y'all.

I have actually visited a fair number of churches. Not tons, but about 20 during interim in Rome, and a couple here in Paris. I have seen more impressive cathedrals, in terms of sheer size (ie. St. Peter's) but Chartres was, without a doubt, one of the most stunning buildings I've had the privilege to visit. From the inside, it's a fairly simple floorplan, but the outside of the building is warrened with flying buttresses and open corridors and the bulging outsides of rooms that you can't see from the inside:

It's wonderful, and huge. And the best part is how much is original - it's almost entirely the original medieval building, which means there are tons of statuary (literally) and all of the figures are unique and individual, from the huge sculptures next to the doors to the thousands of tiny figures around the tops of the arched entrances. Stunning.

You can see that they're cleaning it, which is a five year process. But the parts they've got done, like the top levels here at the front of the cathedral, are gorgeous, as you can see.

Also, I'd seen pictures of Chartres before (we studied some of the stained glass in an art history class), but somehow I'd never heard about the wall around the choristry, or whatever you call the place where the choir hangs out. It's a long wall, inside the church, that's absolutely encrusted with carvings: (Sorry for terrible picture quality - not a lot of light in this part of the church)

Pillars and decorative patterns, but also rows of round pictures around the bottom, and, best of all, huge scenes from the life of Christ, all about, oh, 10-12 feet off the ground. So sue me, I suck at estimating. Anyway, they're not really carvings, because all the statues are fully carved out. The statues are fully carved out, not attached the wall except at their bases. I estimate the standing adults are about 3ft tall. And they're beautiful, and moving. Here's the adoration of Christ by what I think are Magi, but which look sort of shepherd like:

We also walked the tourist circuit through the medieval part of the city, which was, well, picturesque. And old. It still amazes me, every time I'm in Paris, or Chartres, for example, how old things are! It's hard for me, and if I dare generalize recklessly, Americans as a whole, to understand how the weight of so much history shapes a country and its culture. Oh, we have history, to be sure, but in Europe you can feel it everywhere you go. There's much (MUCH) more consciousness of it, and more consciousness of (relatively) recent events such as WWI than I have ever seen in the US. WWI still affects people's attitudes on a daily basis. And while it had a huge effect on the national psyche of the US as well, it's not really something we still talk about much. Here it is.

All of which came out of a discussion of Chartres' medieval city, which was, on a more superficial note, picturesque:

My new obsession: glassware. Also: inappropriate laughter in art museums.

Sometimes I think I ought to waste less time and work more, because I find myself obsessing about things like glassware.

Let me explain - no, there is too much, let me sum up. I had been trying to figure out what would be a good thing to take home when I leave France, because while I like souvenirs, I don't like useless ones. I like to have bigger, and more memorable souvenirs of places I've been, but only if they're something I use regularly. That way I can think, "Oh, I remember when I bought this [notebook/tea strainer/dress/pair of earrings]! It was when I was in [Rome/Disney World/Nairobi/PARIS]!

And then I'm all excited and reminiscent. It's great!

BUT the problem is that many of the things I would like to get here are things I would be able to buy in the US just as easily and probably more cheaply. This has led me to contemplate some interesting and possibly unwise purchases. Most recently, glassware.

Now I am aware that buying a set of wine glasses here, while cool and very French, is impractical in the extreme. How will I get 10 wineglasses in my suitcase - because of course I want extras - and haul them across the Atlantic without a) breaking them or b) ruining all my socks by inadvertently filling them with shards of glass?

It's a dilemna (I'm sorry, I have a deep-seated need to spell that with an n. I can't explain it) that I have yet to solve. And I think that the fact that I've spent so much time on it says less than flattering things about my current preoccupations.

So, lest you think I have been consumed by a mire of (irrelevant) pedestrian concerns (like: and once I get to the US, would I need to replace ALL my socks?), I would like to add that I spent my time this weekend in a much more intellectual frame of mind: I visited the Centre Pompidou.

For the unenlightened, the Centre Pompidou is a modern art museum in Paris. It has all it's pipes on the outside, and it caused a big brouhaha when it was built. Now it's pretty much accepted as a colorful and, well, pipe-covered feature of the city. I saw Duchamps' "Fountain," and several Calder sculptures (mobiles?), as well as a Picasso that I'd never seen and really loved. There was also an interesting room with a video projection called Echo, which was a violinist playing a violin at the edge of a massive cliff in the middle of the mountains - and he was harmonizing with himself by playing along with his echo. I loved it.

Unfortunately I then proceeded to disgrace myself in the eyes of quite of few of my fellow museum go-ers by laughing out loud when I came across an exhibit of a bookshelf covered in junk with trash strewn (artfully) around the floor in front of it. I couldn't help myself, though - someone was photographing the thing! And it was just so stereotypical of "modern art." Oh, and I giggled at the copy of a Mondrian block painting where the colored blocks were furry. I concluded that Modern Art is not my thing, although I am glad I went.

So the Musée d'Orsay remains my favorite art museum - but next week, if I can, I am going to the Rodin Sculpture museum - kind of VERY excited!

Second Christmas, reading, swimming and life in general

So I was trying to come up with a fun exciting blog topic that would paint a beautiful picture of my life, using over-extended metaphors, if possible.

I failed. So instead I'm going to take a leaf from the fabulously well-written Girl in the Afternoon, and use bullet points. Hopefully this will work like an impressionist painting and the different tidbits will come together to form a cohesive and moving whole.

... but if they don't, I have at least succeeded in overextending a metaphor! Success!

• Saturday we celebrated Second Christmas, with the mom's side of the family. Lots of fun, and lots and lots of food. We had foie gras, which apparently is the traditional starter for French Christmas dinner, and I ended up really liking it.
• - The second course was a roti of beef (no idea what the English translation of roti is, sorry) and it was pretty rare, although I did enjoy it. I confess, though, that my main thought when I saw it was an unfortunately appropriate Harry Potter quote, "Ze English overcook zer meat - I 'ave always said zis."
• - As wonderful as the food was, I was briefly (but legitimately) afraid that I was going to explode before dessert.
• - With the fois gras, we had a wine provided with the grandfather, who said it was from '83. At that point several people turned to me and the father said something like, "Isn't that before you were born?" Why yes, yes it is. But it was fabulous wine!

• Sunday 3 other au pairs and I went swimming at a pool in a nearby town. It ended up being a lot of fun. We swum around the adult pool some, went down the slide, and then hung out in the kiddy pool, which was shallower, but warmer. And hopefully I will not now get some horrible disease from being forced to go shoeless in the changing rooms.

• The Birmingham public library system now has books online, available for download. Not a huge selection, as yet, but I am already finding it makes me both very happy and even less productive than I was before. Alas for using my time wisely!

• I had a phone interview yesterday with what is currently my top choice for graduate school. Exciting but somewhat nerve-wracking, until they told me that they would have an acceptance decision for me by Friday - at which point it became just nerve-wracking.

• All of my children are healthly!! Excitement!!

Super quick fast update

Hey everyone who's reading this. This isn't really a post, just a hey here's what's up placeholder until I can get a read entry written.

That may take a little while.

Anywho, got back to France Jan 3, and have been significantly busier than expected since, mostly because my children keep getting sick. The 5 year old had the flu when I arrived, so I was home with him one day last week and one day this week, and then I had all three kids both last Wednesday and today. And today the 10 year old started feeling ill ... and of course it turns out she's got the flu as well. She'll be staying home tomorrow, and probably Friday as well. La vie!

So yeah, what with them sick (and the mom was sick last week) and me being so tired it hurts (and kind of *cough*justifiably!*cough* nervous that I'll be the next one with the flu), I have failed to make time to update my super fabulous blog.

But at least now you all know I'm alive and - currently - flu-free, so cross your fingers for me, and I shall update soon. Ish.

Thoughts on living abroad

So sue me, I had a hard time coming up with a creative title for this. I went for obvious - at least no one is confused as to what this is about.

This post sort of grew out of my last one. Generally I write about things I've been doing, new experiences, things like that. But as I was writing the belated Thanksgiving post, I started thinking about homesickness. And as a disclaimer, I swear this isn't going to be super depressing, mostly because I don't really get homesick.

Ok, that's not completely exactly fully true, but mostly so. I tend to be fairly mellow about adjusting to new situations and locales, and usually figure there's no point in wishing for some place/thing not currently available. I might as well enjoy what I've got, instead. And I pretty much do. There are benefits to being a terribly practical person.

This is not to say, lest ye be offended, oh reader, that I never miss anything. Not being homesick does not equal not wanting some things related to home. Mostly I miss people. While I am willing to accept the necessity of being a long way from family and friends, that doesn't mean I wouldn't like to be closer. But places and things ... these I find I can live without. Although cheap and easily available Dr. Pepper - and doriotos, cheap or otherwise - would be fabulous.

Most of this I found out in college, when I was (for a couple years, at any rate) a long way from most of my immediate family. But I had Grinky and lots of aunts and uncles and cousins nearby, not to mention my useless older brother (for the first 9 mo or so, anyway), and of course I soon made some very good friends. Being here is the first time I've really been on my own, and I wasn't sure if I'd handle the situation the same way.

So far I have. I do miss family and friends, and can't wait to see people at Christmas, but I haven't had that hard of a time adjusting, which is what I was hoping for (and sort of expecting).

What I've found that I did not expect is that rather than missing specific places, favorite restaurants, stores, or foods (except the aforementioned Dr. Pepper, nectar of the Gods, and doritos, whose awesomeness is beyond mere words) what I actually miss is the sense of familiarity and security that having these things around gives. I love Target (no, I really really love that store) but when I'm in a French grocery/general stuff store, I don't miss Target itself - the French store has everything I need. But I DO miss knowing exactly how the check-out lines work, and knowing the general vicinity in which one will find q-tips.

They say that when you move somewhere where you don't know the language, the first few months are fatiguing because you have to work so much harder just to function at a basic level in society. My French is good enough that this hasn't been much of a problem (although finding contact solution without knowing the word for contacts was a bit of a struggle!). But even in Western Europe, where the culture is similar in very many ways to the US, I've found it harder than I expected to figure out some of the details of daily life - like how one gets the attention of the waiter.

It's the sense of familiarity that, when I'm feeling nostalgic, I miss most. Until they're gone, one doesn't realize how much security comes from an understanding of social cues. It gets better the longer I'm here, because of course I'm learning more of how things work and what's expected in French society, but when I try and buy phone credit from a tabac for the first time, rather than the electronics store I'd been going to, or when I buy a baguette from a different boulangerie, it takes a little adjustment all over again.

It's not a bad thing, really, but it is something I didn't really expect, that's taken some adjusting. It does give a lot of perspective on how much we take for granted an intimate knowledge of our own culture, though!

A somewhat belated Thanksgiving

Yes, I know that Thanksgiving was Thursday, but I'm a little slow on the draw. Besides, it took me a while to figure out exactly what I wanted to do for this post.

This was my first Thanksgiving without any of my family here. It was ... weird. I confess, though, that if I have to be without family, I'd really rather be here than somewhere in the US but lacking the ability to get home. No one here was celebrating Thanksgiving, so it was easier to forget what I was missing. And thanks to Skype, I did get to talk to the majority of my immediate family (plus Grinky!) which is always wonderful.

So in the spirit of Thanksgiving, here are things I'm thankful for:

1. The family I'm with here. They know it's harder to be in a foreign country at holidays, so they made me a "Thanksgiving dinner" over the weekend: turkey, potatoes, and corn (all foods I'd mentioned as being traditional). They've been wonderful.

2. The internet. And my computer. Darling macbook, if my poetry wasn't as the screeching of nails on a chalkboard to the ears of the unfortunate hearer/reader, I would write sonnets to you. After all, I am a long way from family, friends and familiarity (though alliteration hasn't forsaken me) and it's so so so nice to be able to keep up with people through facebook, email, skype and, of course, this blog.

3. Heat. The heat in the house went out last Monday night and was out on Tuesday, but is back. And y'all, and I am thankful. Because it snowed last night and now the temp is hovering around 28 - so a continued lack of heat would not be pleasant.

4. My actual family. Hmmm, somehow I feel like they should be higher on the list. Sorry actual family! But they've been so supportive of me being here, and of helping me mail things and sort out stateside stuff that it's hard to take care of from here, and hey, they're flying me back for Christmas! Besides, I kind of like them. Except my older brother, of course.

5. Friends. This is probably you, the person currently reading this. Know that I am so, so thankful for you, and I miss you!

Happy (late) Thanksgiving!

The Louvre

Since I last wrote I have, as you may have surmised from the title of this post, been to the Louvre. I feel like I should have more to say about it, given how I much I enthused in my post about the Musée d'Orsay, but I have to admit, I liked the Musée d'Orsay better.

Don't get me wrong, the Louvre is amazingly impressive. Another au pair and I went together - oh wait, we actually went before my last posting. Oops. Anyway, we went on the 5th, because pretty much all the museums in Paris are free on the first Sunday of the month. I love being here, but sometimes being an au pair is like being in college again, ie I have no money.

Now you may be thinking, Oh my, Susanna, you went to the world's most visited art museum, the one that houses one of the most famous paintings in the world, on a day when everyone and their brother-in-law was going to be there? On an average day there are 12,000 visitors, and many more on a day like that! What were you thinking?

This is a valid question. Mostly we were thinking, "Score! Free museum!" but I should also remind you that the Louvre is 652,300 square feet. That is very, very large. And as an aside, thank you google, for helpfully providing information about the size of the museum and average numbers of visitors. So yes, there were thousands of people there but, frankly, if you weren't in the section with the Mona Lisa or some of the Greek antiquities, it wasn't that crowded. We were in this massive line to get in, but it moved at practically a walking place - you just can't fill the building up.

Which leads me to why I like it less than the Musée d'Orsay. The Louvre is unbelievably, ridiculously, overwhelmingly impressive. We visited several exhibits (Ancient Mesopotamia, Ancient Egypt, Ancient Greece, Ancient Near East, and Dutch and Flemish paintings. We visited, maybe, 1/4 of the museum. We were there about 5 hours. The place never ends. In the Dutch and Flemish collection there are rooms upon rooms of paintings, each wall covered in them, and you keep walking through them, in awe of the beauty and artistry and history until you can't even take it in anymore. And then there's the architecture and decoration of the building itself. After all, it was palace before it was a museum and the rooms, and the view of Paris from some of the windows, are breathtaking. But the weight of all that history and beauty and the sheer size of the place is a little suffocating.

I think if I was going to be in Paris for a long amount of time (and really, I would need a couple years for this) I would go on the first Sunday of each month, just for a couple hours, and visit only one exhibit, taking my time. I know I'm here about a year, but there are other museums I want to go to, so that isn't feasible now; I have to visit more than one exhibit each time I go.

I do plan to go back, though. I want to see the African art, as well as the Napoleon rooms, and I'd really like to see the French art as well. For now, here are a couple pictures I took. I only took a few because I quickly realized that if I kept going I'd never be able to stop, but you can see a few things:

My friend is there for a size comparison. I was so excited to see these, because we'd studied them in art history. Which reminds me: I HAVE SEEN HAMMURABI'S CODE. Just saying.

This was another favorite thing. The random person in the corner is for scale. This is the top (the top 1/5, maybe) of a column from the palace of one the Persian kings. There were 36 columns in his throne room, each topped by one of these. That's some serious impressive, people.

And these are views from one of windows. Not too good, as pictures go, but I loved being able to look out at Paris. If you look very, very closely at the first you can see La Defense and the Arc de Triomphe. The second features, obviously, the Eiffel Tower, but very sneakily also has the Grand Palais. Probably no one can see it, but I swear it was clearer when you were actually looking at it, not trying to photograph it through a window.

Other favorite things I saw that I did not photograph: the statue of Cupid and Psyche, paintings by Vermeer and Jan Steen, the huge room lined with absolutely massive Rubens that illustrate the life of Queen Marie de Médicis, and, of course, Hammurabi's Code. Also, lots of truly beautiful gold jewelry (and I got to see some rings like the one I patterned the Egyptian ring in my honors project on!). But while I loved some of the art I got to see, the Musée d'Orsay reigns supreme in my art museum affections. Sorry Louvre!