No.25: Small Cars
I love the small cars in France: infinitely better for the environment and pretty darn adorable. Très mignon indeed.
Vocabulaire
très mignon: very cute
Oct 24
I love the small cars in France: infinitely better for the environment and pretty darn adorable. Très mignon indeed.
Vocabulaire
très mignon: very cute
I had to make an unexpected trip to the USA this week.
After trying so hard to get into my French life and gearing my family up for what is sure to be another adventure-filled year in gay Par-ee, this trip back to the land of the LARGE and PLENTY has really thrown me for a loop. I have found it difficult to concentrate and be productive. There is so much STUFF in America to get distracted by; it’s hard to focus. Is it any wonder that we hand out anti-anxiety and ADHD medication like candy on Halloween?
I do love the fact that in France, there still appears to be some restraint, and maybe even a sense of national pride in the idea that LESS is more. In general, in France quality surpasses quantity, and I find there are a good many Frenchies committed to this idea.
Here are a few of the larger things I have encountered in the last week in America and the smaller counterparts I enjoy in France:
For those of you who live in the USA or have visited, I have one word for you: Costco.
For those of you who have never been to America, an explanation: Costco Wholesale Corporation is a membership-only warehouse club that provides a wide selection of merchandise; it is the second largest retailer in the United States, the seventh largest retailer in the world and the largest membership warehouse club chain in the United States. (Wikipedia)
…and, you can buy everything and anything there…in very LARGE quantities.
I know the megastores are convenient and cheap, but it is such a pleasure (albeit sometimes a pain) to live somewhere where the mom and pop and artisan stores are still thriving right around the corner. Yes, sometimes you have to go to six or seven shops in one day just to get everything you need for a dinner party, but for me it is much more satisfying to frequent these small shops than to shop in a warehouse or strip mall.
I haven’t quite figured out what I would do with 4lbs 2 ½ oz (2 kg) of tuna, although I if I had the space in my tiny Parisian freezer I could finish 6.75 lbs (3.1 kg) of edamame ( j’adore edamame).
With Thanksgiving and Christmas just around the corner, I suppose I could finish a 3 lbs (1.4 kg) bag of fresh cranberries, if I had the time (and American oven) to make cranberry bread for my whole apartment building.
And, look at this, Costco has even taken on the French Macaron, and prepackaged an entire pound of these artisanal French cookies…imagine the money I could save as macarons are 2 euros ($3) a pop in Paris. What would Ladurée say?
As my trip was last-minute and I needed to quickly pack a small carry-on, I forgot to bring some of my toiletries. So, my first stop was the “small” local grocery store. All I needed was shampoo. Once I finally tracked down the shampoo aisle, I froze. I stared. I panicked. My breath sped up. There was so much frickin’ shampoo! I almost lost my nerve.![]()
It only took me 30 minutes to decide, and I’m happy to report, I do have clean hair now, but choosing wasn’t easy.
After staying in the USA for more than a week, I realized how much sales drive our consumer culture and influence my personal shopping habits. Returning to this always-a-sale craze, I now understand how much this phenomenon contributes to our country’s economy (and debt).
In France les soldes (the sales) are few and far between. In fact they are state-regulated and are held only twice a year, mid-June and early January. They last for around six weeks and prices are continually slashed over the weeks, ending with the dregs being sold for as low as 90 percent off regular prices. I usually go shopping once or twice during these 6-week periods, and come away with one or two precious finds.
In contrast, in America something is always on sale, and often at a pretty steeply discounted rate. I am not sure if it was my anxious state of mind due to the unexpected nature of my visit back, but my sales-shock, drove me to purchase (and then return) things I really had no room or need for back in Paris. (Thank goodness for carry-on luggage restrictions!) Still, it did get me thinking about how sales contribute to America’s insatiable desire to own and consume.
All in all, I find that the less-is-more mentality in France makes me very happy. I’m glad to be constantly reminded that quality is so much more important than quantity.
Vocabulaire
j’adore edamame: I love edamame (soybeans)
les petites boutiques familiales: mom and pop stores
les soldes: the sales
I’m not sure if it’s true, but I have the impression that the French have been groomed to think about love from a very early age. After all, French is the language of love, and romance and France are often mentioned in the same breath.
And now la poste is getting in on the act. And why not? They are, after all, French postmen (and women).
Yep. Yesterday la poste was offering love advice at the Fête des Vendanges in Montmartre. As it was not only a celebration of wine and wine making, but also a celebration of l’amour, it seemed only natural (in a French way) for the uncharacteristically jolly postpeople to be counselling the crowd about love.
The advice for lovers is the kick-off for “Écrivez l’Amour”, a contest sponsored by la poste, to see who can write the most beautiful love letter (in 25 lines or less, handwritten, please).
Stay tuned for the winning letters announced in December.
Vocabulaire
écrire: to write
fête des vendanges: grape harvest festival
l’amour: love
la poste: the post office
Oct 12
I love the French word for seafood: fruits de mer. Fruit from the sea. It’s the perfect way to describe the many colorful and sometimes bizarre fish and shellfish found in France.
Some of my favorite crustacean friends are: crabs, lobster, langoustines, mussels, oysters, octopus, scallops, shrimp and urchins. I use “friends” in the loosest sense, as I am actually a bit afraid of most of them. But thankfully I have just discovered a new word in French: décortiqué, peeled or shelled. So now when I go to a restaurant at least I know that if I don’t see that magic word on the menu, the waiter will be bringing me a plate with the heads and legs still attached to the little guys I ordered, their beady little eyes staring me down.
At any of the large outdoor market in France, you are sure to find at least two or three stands selling the fresh catch of the day. The hard part is figuring out what the heck the French word is for the few types of seafood I actually recognize, and then screwing up the courage to order it from le poissonnier. Once you get over that hump, you’re still not quite finished. Now you have to figure out how you want it prepared, which for me, is actually a real luxury. I have so many memories of standing on a chair next to my daddy in front of the kitchen sink gutting and scaling fresh Colorado trout, I am quite happy to have someone else take over.
Luckily the handy French phrase: Pourriez-vous me le préparer s’il vous plâit, seems to do the trick…until he asks me just how I want it prepared. Bones out? Gills removed? Heads to make soup? Shells and skins for the stock? I think, although I can’t be sure, I’ve even been given advice on what to use the eyeballs for.
Oh, la vache! Someday I hope my French is good enough to answer these questions, but for now, a generous smile and a frequent merci bien is working well enough.
Vocabulaire:
décortiqué: peeled or shelled
le poissonnier: fishmonger
merci bien: thanks a lot
Oh, la vache! Holy cow!
Pourriez-vous me le préparer s’il vous plait: Could you please prepare it for me (which usually implies gutting, scaling and deboning)
Oct 10
Today is the 50th anniversary of the death of the celebrated cabaret singer Edith Piaf.
Over the last nine months, there have been numerous Piaf tributes both in France and around the world. I have been a little bit surprised by this because while I (as an expat and Francophile) see her as a national treasure, I guess I suspected that the French saw her only as one BIG French cliché.
Think of France, and especially Paris, and what comes to your mind? Outdoor cafés, baguettes, buttery croissants, men is blue and white striped shirts, women in floral dresses riding bicycles, cigarettes, berets, strolling along the Seine, wine, cheese, shared kisses by the Eiffel Tower… and all with the music of Edith playing in the background. For some reason I thought the French had outgrown her, even moved on, and maybe preferred to be associated with what’s good and modern in France today.
I was quite mistaken. This morning the anniversary of her death was a lead story on all the major news channels. Each story was a touching tribute to a post-war icon, “a symbol of French passion and tenacity.”
Then while shopping at the marché a few hours later, my favorite vendeuse, and purveyor of the best and most beautiful produce, was cheerily helping her customers while exuberantly singing La vie en rose…
…it was so lovely and so charming and exactly why I love living in France.
Listen along to hear Edith singing it herself in 1954.
Vocabulaire:
La vie en rose: Life through rose-colored glasses, literally: life in pink
vendeur/vendeuse: vendor, seller, salesperson
Oct 9
It rains a lot in France. In fact my British friends say that the weather in Paris is just as bad, if not worse, than the weather in London. According to weather sites, we get 150-175 days of rain a year here in Paris. In the last few months, we have had some major downpours, and a lot of grey.
However, lately I have been thanking the All Mighty for sending the rain, because I simply can’t take another day of sidewalks splattered with man pee. What is it with the French and peeing in public?
It is the rule, not the exception, for me and Taz to run into at least one man who is “faire-ing” the pipi each morning. Do they just forget to go to the bathroom before they leave for work? Does that first teeny-tiny shot of espresso do their bladder in? Does it feel good to air their junk out in the morning, before shutting it up in the office for the day?
Just exactly what do they think is NOT gross about leaving a huge puddle of urine on the walls and sidewalks of the city?
Besides the fact that Taz tugs on his leash to get in on the splashing action, what makes it even more awkward is the casual way they finish up with a just-shaking-the-drip-off-flourish, before tucking in, zipping up, and sometimes even winking. Aidez-moi!
So please, please, please send the rain by Saturday. The sidewalks need a shower. We’ve got a whole mess of man pee to wash away.
Vocabulaire:
Aidez-moi! Help me!
faire pipi: to pee, to go number 1
Last night was nuit blanche in Paris—the annual October evening where the whole city of Paris plays host to an all-night arts and cultural fête. This year, and I am kicking myself for somehow missing this seemingly impossible-to-miss spectacle, the night commencé avec four helicopters flying over Paris, each one containing one member of a string quartet, playing an avant-garde melody, joyfully broadcast into the night.
Having missed that, Superman and I did finally get our act together around 23h and joined in, strolling hand-in-hand through the warm autumn night.
Along with thousands of our closest friends, we spent the evening and early hours of the morn wondering through the streets exploring the contemporary art scene and stumbling upon all sorts of artistic expression. The white night included fantastical arts installations, live music and dance performances, films and performance art, fog sculptures, light shows, colossal playgrounds, and hands-on art workshops for children or those with le coeur d’enfant.
Museums, art galleries, cultural centers, cafés and restaurants stayed open all night, and hundreds of other events were on offer free of charge. The city center, like Cinderella’s pumpkin, was magically transformed into a sparkling gala, dedicated uniquely to art. Along the Seine curious art installations materialized out of the mist, and throngs of young people gyrated to the pulse of the night. At midnight a dazzling pyrotechnic display filled the sky.
Watching the planned parties and impromptu merrymaking overflow into the streets, I felt so incredibly lucky to be part of a place that values and celebrates art and creative expression, and feels sure that art is not just frivolous, but necessary.
Vocabulaire:
commencé avec: began with
le coeur d’enfant: a heart of a child
Nuit blanche: white night, light night; an annual all-night or night-time arts festival
Passer une nuit blanche: to have a sleepless night, to pull an all nighter, stay up all night