Tuesday, November 24, 2009
Yesterday I gave lessons on Thanksgiving to all my classes (ie we made hand turkeys) and was shocked because the word for thankful (reconnaissant) is rarely used in France. Maybe the word is used, but the concept of ‘being thankful’ for certain things in life was not understood. I tried to explain that for Thanksgiving my family goes around the table and everyone says one or two things they are thankful for before starting to eat, and the kids didn’t get it, nor did the teachers. The teachers explained to me that yes, they understand the word, but in France people just don’t contemplate what they’re thankful for in their lives. Most of the kids ended up thinking that Thanksgiving is basically a second Christmas because in France they eat turkey for Christmas, and they assumed my list of things I’m thankful for is actually a list of gifts I want to receive (so that means for Christmas I asked for a second loving family and another wonderful group of friends). I guess at home I don’t constantly go around reciting why I’m thankful like I do on Thanksgiving day, but I often think about the things that make my life as wonderful as it is and realize how much my friends and family add to my happiness. So, if any of the kids understood me yesterday, maybe I’ll start a new thought process in France…
I also got a kick out of explaining that Thanksgiving is a day where you get together with family and give thanks, yes, but it’s basically centered around eating a humongous meal. I described the turkey, potatoes, dressing, numerous pies, and whatever else people add to the day. After listing this wonderful meal, one kid raised his hand and said, “Do you eat pizza?”
“No, we don’t eat pizza,” I replied.
“Do you eat hamburgers?” “No, we don’t eat hamburgers.”
“Do you eat chips?” “No, we don’t eat chips.”
“Do you drink Coca cola?” “Nope, not particularly.”
So, the media has impressed upon these French kids so much that when they think about Americans sitting down to a nice, home-cooked meal, it’s still of hamburgers, chips, and Coca-cola. One student asked if I will go home for Thanksgiving, and another said, “Of course, she goes home every weekend!” To which I replied, “No way, it’s 8 hours one-way in an airplane and super expensive, so I’m only going home for Christmas!” They couldn’t believe I am living away from home for so long :)
On the way home from work I decided to listen to my iPod during the métro ride, which I don’t normally do. While it’s basically a safe place, I always need to be somewhat alert and listen to my surroundings to see if there are crazy people around because they are pretty common on the métro and RER. Plus I like listening to people’s conversations to see how much of the French I understand when they speak quickly. Anyway, I had my iPod in and closed my eyes to relax. I didn’t really fall asleep because I opened my eyes every few minutes, but I was about to fall asleep. The train stopped at one station and when I didn’t feel it start moving again, I opened my eyes to a completely empty train. Uh oh. Luckily I opened my eyes when I did, and I realized we were stopped at a station just outside Paris and everyone had gotten off the train for some reason and was standing on the platform. So, I got off to follow the crowd and tried to make out some message in French on the loudspeaker that the native French people couldn’t even understand, but the gist of it was something happened and everyone had to MOVE OFF the platform. Ok, so people started getting back on the train because we couldn’t stand on the platform. Then the lady on the speakers corrected herself and said the train was no longer in service, please wait ON the platform. Back to everyone piling off the train and onto the platform. This is the first time that ever happened to me on the RER, but really wacky things happen over here all the time with public transportation, so I wasn’t surprised. Of course everyone was in a huff and checking their watch and grumbling about having to get off the train and wait on the rainy platform, and people stretched their necks practically every 10 seconds to look for the next train. I was worried because I have a really tight schedule on Mondays between finishing in Boissy-Saint-Léger and making it back to Paris to pick Antoine up from school. Turns out I didn’t make it in time to see Antoine leave the school building, but it’s literally 1 block away from the apartment and I told him if I wasn’t there to go home without me. So I went to the apartment- no Antoine. I called Dorothée to see if he was at a friend’s house (he’s done that before without telling me) but she said no. As I’m leaving the apartment to go look for him, Antoine rings the doorbell and the crisis is averted. But it is not a good feeling to call a mom and tell her you can’t find her son, ugh.
Knowing Antoine was safe, I went out to buy a baguette for an after-school snack, a daily ritual. On my way to the boulangerie, I walked across a cross-walk with a green signal, and gave a somewhat haughty look to a man on a moped who barely stopped before hitting me. Then he turns the corner and stops me on the sidewalk, and I’m thinking he’s about to yell at me for the mean glare, but instead he tells me he works for a movie and they are hiring people to be extras in the background, walking along a sidewalk and window shopping. The scene is being filmed in Paris in January for two days and pays 80€ each day. He apparently liked how I walked, said it was a good, strong, confident walk (personally, I think it helped I was wearing my stretch skinny jeans and boots). Anyway, if M. Jacquet’s secretary contacts me, then maybe I’ll be in a movie. If it actually happens it would be cool, but does this guy’s job description actually include riding around Paris on a moped looking for extras for a movie?
I talked to my mom the other day who told me she saw my high school French teacher, Madame Ellingson, at a craft show in Edina. After following Madame Ellingson around to a few booths (she’s not a stalker, promise…) to make sure it was really her, my mom struck up a conversation and Madame Ellingson said she is reading some of my blogs to her French high school classes. So, shout out to those Rosemount High School students, don’t drop out of French because it can easily get you a job some day!
Tuesday, November 24, 2009
Sunday, November 22, 2009
Converse All Stars are in
Saturday, November 21, 2009
Pretty lazy Saturday, woke up late and worked on a few final medical school essay questions. I’m really frustrated because I’ve been in contact with a teacher from UW-Madison who was going to write me a letter of recommendation (I could use another one on top of the three I already have), but he never got back to me. I guess it should be expected, I tried to get in touch with him three times this summer before I left Madison, and the first time he responded to me was a few weeks ago (so, 3 months after I wrote him). Obviously I was already here in Paris and couldn’t set up a meeting with him. So I emailed back with all my relevant information, such as resumé, student record, personal statement, whatnot to see if he’d still be interested in writing a letter, and told him I could call over Skype if he wanted to discuss anything. That was 10 days ago, and I haven’t heard back from him. I really wanted his letter before December 1, but looks like I won’t get it at all. So. Extremely. Frustrating.
I just cooked stir fry for dinner, fun learning experience. Actually, I didn’t do too poorly because the chicken wasn’t too tough, and the carrots and green peppers really added flavor to the rice and chicken. I cheated on the rice- they have individual packets of rice in plastic bags that you just toss into boiling water and let sit for ten minutes, giving you nicely cooked rice, no mess to clean out of the pan. Ingenious. Do these magical rice bags exist in the US? Let me know, I’ll definitely buy them when I get back. And it’s not even considered cheating here in France because Dorothée (my au pair mom) even uses the rice bags to cook. I went jogging on Wednesday for the first time in this area, there’s a nice park a few blocks away. One lap around the park is about .6 miles, so I didn’t do anything drastic, just 4 laps. I think the hardest part was the 7 flights of stairs to get up to my room at the end (I chose to skip the elevator). Felt good on Wednesday and I was exhausted by bedtime, and then the muscle aches hit me Thursday. Luckily I don’t have to climb many stairs when I’m teaching! But now that I know the park is there and I checked it out, hopefully I’ll start running more frequently. Unfortunately I discovered the easiest way to get unwanted attention from French men- run with shorts on. Of the six other runners I saw at the park, three were women and all had pants and long sleeve shirts on. It’s still about 55 deg here during the day, so perfect running weather, and not nearly cold enough to wear sweats while working out! Next time I’ll wear my iPod and just ignore any comments. Some of the days I really can’t run because I leave for work around 7am, teach until 4pm, and then spend time with the au pair kids until 8pm. Since the sun sets at 5pm, I don’t want to go running at 8pm in the dark. So, I have to be on the ball on my days off and actually motivate myself to get out the door and run.
I had a funny fashion lesson last night from Thibault, the 13 year old son. I was at the apartment with the two boys, Thibault and Antoine, and they were leaving soon to meet up with the rest of the family for dinner that night. It was just me and the boys, and when the 10 year old Antoine walked out wearing jeans and a tshirt, I thought he looked fine. The tshirt was plain, no video game jargon or sports slogans, so I thought he looked ready to go to a family dinner. Then Thibault yelled at him to dress up. Ok, so Antoine puts on a nicer white dress shirt, skinny jeans (yes, they are just as popular with men here as with women), and some snazzy silver fashion sneakers. I thought he looked very handsome for a ten year old. A few minutes later I walk into his room to see Antoine changing shoes into black canvas Converse high tops. I asked him why he was changing; personally, I think the silver fashion sneakers he started with went WAY better with the outfit (umm, aren’t Converse All Stars pretty laid back, casual shoes?) According to Thibault (who obviously knows everything at the age of 13, just like I did), the silver shoes don’t go with skinny jeans. I decided to trust his fashion judgment because he was standing there wearing a very fashionable button up, dark skinny jeans, smelled like Armani cologne, and finished the whole ensemble with black, suede, pointy-toe men’s dress shoes. Très chic. I wouldn’t be able to pay a 13 year old American boy to dress that way. So Antoine wore his high-top Converses with his nice outfit and they left for the dinner. Initially I was supposed to go with them on the métro to make sure they made it ok (they really don’t take the métro much because their family has a car), but Thibault complained to his mom that he is too old for a babysitter. So their mom agreed and said I didn’t have to take them. After hearing Thibault’s fashion advice to Antoine, I can’t even imagine what he thinks when he sees me wearing my silver Skechers, wider leg jeans, and t-shirts. Guess I’ll never be cool enough for him. But I’m not complaining about French fashion, it’s just a foreign concept to think the men care about how they look and take their time getting ready just as much as women do! Maybe I’ll have to ask Thibault how my outfit looks the next time I go out with friends :)
Pretty lazy Saturday, woke up late and worked on a few final medical school essay questions. I’m really frustrated because I’ve been in contact with a teacher from UW-Madison who was going to write me a letter of recommendation (I could use another one on top of the three I already have), but he never got back to me. I guess it should be expected, I tried to get in touch with him three times this summer before I left Madison, and the first time he responded to me was a few weeks ago (so, 3 months after I wrote him). Obviously I was already here in Paris and couldn’t set up a meeting with him. So I emailed back with all my relevant information, such as resumé, student record, personal statement, whatnot to see if he’d still be interested in writing a letter, and told him I could call over Skype if he wanted to discuss anything. That was 10 days ago, and I haven’t heard back from him. I really wanted his letter before December 1, but looks like I won’t get it at all. So. Extremely. Frustrating.
I just cooked stir fry for dinner, fun learning experience. Actually, I didn’t do too poorly because the chicken wasn’t too tough, and the carrots and green peppers really added flavor to the rice and chicken. I cheated on the rice- they have individual packets of rice in plastic bags that you just toss into boiling water and let sit for ten minutes, giving you nicely cooked rice, no mess to clean out of the pan. Ingenious. Do these magical rice bags exist in the US? Let me know, I’ll definitely buy them when I get back. And it’s not even considered cheating here in France because Dorothée (my au pair mom) even uses the rice bags to cook. I went jogging on Wednesday for the first time in this area, there’s a nice park a few blocks away. One lap around the park is about .6 miles, so I didn’t do anything drastic, just 4 laps. I think the hardest part was the 7 flights of stairs to get up to my room at the end (I chose to skip the elevator). Felt good on Wednesday and I was exhausted by bedtime, and then the muscle aches hit me Thursday. Luckily I don’t have to climb many stairs when I’m teaching! But now that I know the park is there and I checked it out, hopefully I’ll start running more frequently. Unfortunately I discovered the easiest way to get unwanted attention from French men- run with shorts on. Of the six other runners I saw at the park, three were women and all had pants and long sleeve shirts on. It’s still about 55 deg here during the day, so perfect running weather, and not nearly cold enough to wear sweats while working out! Next time I’ll wear my iPod and just ignore any comments. Some of the days I really can’t run because I leave for work around 7am, teach until 4pm, and then spend time with the au pair kids until 8pm. Since the sun sets at 5pm, I don’t want to go running at 8pm in the dark. So, I have to be on the ball on my days off and actually motivate myself to get out the door and run.
I had a funny fashion lesson last night from Thibault, the 13 year old son. I was at the apartment with the two boys, Thibault and Antoine, and they were leaving soon to meet up with the rest of the family for dinner that night. It was just me and the boys, and when the 10 year old Antoine walked out wearing jeans and a tshirt, I thought he looked fine. The tshirt was plain, no video game jargon or sports slogans, so I thought he looked ready to go to a family dinner. Then Thibault yelled at him to dress up. Ok, so Antoine puts on a nicer white dress shirt, skinny jeans (yes, they are just as popular with men here as with women), and some snazzy silver fashion sneakers. I thought he looked very handsome for a ten year old. A few minutes later I walk into his room to see Antoine changing shoes into black canvas Converse high tops. I asked him why he was changing; personally, I think the silver fashion sneakers he started with went WAY better with the outfit (umm, aren’t Converse All Stars pretty laid back, casual shoes?) According to Thibault (who obviously knows everything at the age of 13, just like I did), the silver shoes don’t go with skinny jeans. I decided to trust his fashion judgment because he was standing there wearing a very fashionable button up, dark skinny jeans, smelled like Armani cologne, and finished the whole ensemble with black, suede, pointy-toe men’s dress shoes. Très chic. I wouldn’t be able to pay a 13 year old American boy to dress that way. So Antoine wore his high-top Converses with his nice outfit and they left for the dinner. Initially I was supposed to go with them on the métro to make sure they made it ok (they really don’t take the métro much because their family has a car), but Thibault complained to his mom that he is too old for a babysitter. So their mom agreed and said I didn’t have to take them. After hearing Thibault’s fashion advice to Antoine, I can’t even imagine what he thinks when he sees me wearing my silver Skechers, wider leg jeans, and t-shirts. Guess I’ll never be cool enough for him. But I’m not complaining about French fashion, it’s just a foreign concept to think the men care about how they look and take their time getting ready just as much as women do! Maybe I’ll have to ask Thibault how my outfit looks the next time I go out with friends :)
Sunday, November 15, 2009
One-handed gimp
Friday, November 13, 2009
Well I haven’t written in a while, but it’s been really hard for me to type recently- here’s why. Last Wednesday, November 4, I sliced open my right index knuckle while doing the dishes because one of the glasses had a crack in it and broke while I washed it. Although I’m interested to see how the hospital and medical system work in socialist France, it’s more an interest to compare it to the US system rather than to need medical attention first-hand for myself. And I don’t have my social security card yet, so I would’ve had to pay out of pocket and wait to be reimbursed next spring (ha, they tell me I may not even receive my social security card before I leave in June- it really takes 8 months for a little piece of paper to arrive?) Anyway, I was able to avoid a trip to the hospital for stitches because the mother of my au pair family is a doctor and had steri-strips, so she performed the minor surgery in her kitchen. My hand didn’t completely stop bleeding for about 6 hours, and I got little to no sleep that night because I was in so much pain. I went out and bought disposable plastic gloves to wear, per doctor’s orders, so I could keep my hand dry in the shower, brushing my teeth, doing the dishes (which I’m now scared to do, by the way), washing my face, etc. It seems simple to NOT have to wash my hand, but of course, the true trick is keeping my hand clean in the first place to not warrant having to wash it. Thursday and Friday teaching went ok, I wasn’t able to write on the board or write up my lesson plans for class with my right hand, and writing with my left hand was pointless because I could barely read what I wrote and it took me 4x as long to write. On Friday coming home, the métro lurched suddenly at a stop and I reopened my cut while trying to get my balance. So I had to re-do my steri-strips because the first ones fell off when the cut started bleeding again. I was able to keep the steri-strips on for 7 days and basically keep the cut dry, although plastic gloves didn’t always work in the shower. It will be a grand scar when the thing finally heals after who knows how long.
Unluckily for me, I was also planning on moving my remaining teaching supplies from the old apartment to my new place last Wednesday night, which didn’t happen after I cut myself. So I had to do quite a bit of improv last Thursday and Friday without my teaching materials. I was able to go on Saturday when my hand felt a little better to do my final move-out. Now that everything is with me I feel truly settled in Paris, even if my room doesn’t seem very arranged. I’ve always had a messy room (ask my parents), so keeping all my clothes and books strewn all over the floor because I don’t have enough storage space in the tiny apartment just makes me feel more at ease :) I’ve been getting to know the family I work for a lot better now that I’ve spent time with the kids for 2 weeks and I’m still overjoyed that I found this job. The children are extremely smart and fun to talk with; I’ve enjoyed playing “Guess Who” and different card games with them in English. My French students at school continue to keep my day occupied and full of excitement- one of my favorite questions so far was, “Justine, do you fly home every weekend to be with your family?” Yikes, that would be expensive and tiring! I just bought my plane ticket back to France for after Xmas vacation- I fly to Paris on January 1 and don’t return until July 16, so my sister and I have enough time to tour Europe for two weeks after I’m done teaching. I wasn’t expecting the $1,050 price tag seeing as how my first plane ticket was $750. Ouch. But, I’m probably the luckiest teaching assistant in Paris right now because I don’t have to pay rent or utilities, so the fact that we haven’t gotten paid yet isn’t hitting me hard at all (big thanks to the Bank of Mom and Dad for a generous loan). The other teaching assistants are getting extremely riled up that we haven’t been paid, but I’m not joining in the complaining. I didn’t think we were supposed to get paid before the end of November for our first paycheck, but apparently it’s written somewhere we’re supposed to be paid by the start of November. So, now that it’s November 13th and no one has been paid yet, frantic mass-emails are going around with angry letters people have sent to the Academy, as well as talks of strikes (grèves). Not sure how serious they are, but seems pretty silly to me. Personally, if I went on strike and didn’t show up at my schools, I’m not sure how much they’d miss me. I take over the classroom for 45 min/week and the regular teachers are with the students the remaining 25.25 hours- if I don’t show up, they’re not missing much. The only true statement I agree with is when people say they’ll have to break their contract and return home because they don’t have enough money. In this I see logic, and I find it hard to believe this teaching program has been going on for so long and they still can’t figure out a way to pay the assistants on time. Some justify their desire to strike with the idea that French workers would go on strike if they weren’t paid, but the thing is we’re not French. We are foreigners who are living here, yes, but we will never merit the same social justices as residents of the country, such as the right to strike. Plus, I’d prefer to keep my working visa active and not have it revoked for doing something crazy like going on strike!
I finally went to the movies last weekend for the first time since getting to Paris- a true French tradition. I can’t vouch for other cities in France, but the Parisians truly enjoy their cinema and I think they go out to movies more often than Americans. It’s practically a weekly ritual. Another assistant and I went to see “Away We Go”- just because we’re in France doesn’t mean we only have French movies to choose from! I would say at any given time in a mainstream chain theater at least 60% of the movies are American and play in English with French subtitles. I liked the movie, didn’t know anything about it going it, but it had a good story- somewhat bizarre characters, but a good ending. I’m not doing anything particularly exciting this weekend because I’ll be working on my med school applications, they sure are not something fun, but it will be very fulfilling to finally complete them! I’ve discovered the Farmville application on Facebook, so I will definitely be taking breaks from applications to harvest my strawberries…
I’ve been seeing a lot of Xmas decorations going up already here, both in Boissy-Saint-Léger and in Paris. The main things I’ve seen are lights that hang across the street from one building to the next, sometimes spelling out words like the name of the street or district in Paris. I kept thinking to myself, “This is crazy, it’s not even Thanksgiving yet!” before remembering France doesn’t celebrate Thanksgiving like we do. So, they don’t have the excuse over here to wait to put up decorations. About 10-12 teaching assistants are getting together and having our own Thanksgiving, one of the girls lives in a bigger apartment and her French roommates are going to partake in the festivities with us. I’m just glad I don’t have to cook the turkey. I wonder when I will have to cook one for the first time, and I’m thinking about all the friends I have who got married in the past year- will you be cooking your first Thanksgiving dinner this year? Yikes, seems scary to me! I’ve obviously not picked up on the French cooking tradition yet, we’ll see if that happens. I’m not against cooking, but I don’t really have a kitchen to start in here, so I’ll keep using that as my excuse. I’m proud that I figured out how to make toast without a toaster, instead using a frying pan on my burner. Basically, it’s like I’m camping in my Parisian apartment, luckily with running water for a shower and electricity for my refrigerator.
Tchao, Justine
Well I haven’t written in a while, but it’s been really hard for me to type recently- here’s why. Last Wednesday, November 4, I sliced open my right index knuckle while doing the dishes because one of the glasses had a crack in it and broke while I washed it. Although I’m interested to see how the hospital and medical system work in socialist France, it’s more an interest to compare it to the US system rather than to need medical attention first-hand for myself. And I don’t have my social security card yet, so I would’ve had to pay out of pocket and wait to be reimbursed next spring (ha, they tell me I may not even receive my social security card before I leave in June- it really takes 8 months for a little piece of paper to arrive?) Anyway, I was able to avoid a trip to the hospital for stitches because the mother of my au pair family is a doctor and had steri-strips, so she performed the minor surgery in her kitchen. My hand didn’t completely stop bleeding for about 6 hours, and I got little to no sleep that night because I was in so much pain. I went out and bought disposable plastic gloves to wear, per doctor’s orders, so I could keep my hand dry in the shower, brushing my teeth, doing the dishes (which I’m now scared to do, by the way), washing my face, etc. It seems simple to NOT have to wash my hand, but of course, the true trick is keeping my hand clean in the first place to not warrant having to wash it. Thursday and Friday teaching went ok, I wasn’t able to write on the board or write up my lesson plans for class with my right hand, and writing with my left hand was pointless because I could barely read what I wrote and it took me 4x as long to write. On Friday coming home, the métro lurched suddenly at a stop and I reopened my cut while trying to get my balance. So I had to re-do my steri-strips because the first ones fell off when the cut started bleeding again. I was able to keep the steri-strips on for 7 days and basically keep the cut dry, although plastic gloves didn’t always work in the shower. It will be a grand scar when the thing finally heals after who knows how long.
Unluckily for me, I was also planning on moving my remaining teaching supplies from the old apartment to my new place last Wednesday night, which didn’t happen after I cut myself. So I had to do quite a bit of improv last Thursday and Friday without my teaching materials. I was able to go on Saturday when my hand felt a little better to do my final move-out. Now that everything is with me I feel truly settled in Paris, even if my room doesn’t seem very arranged. I’ve always had a messy room (ask my parents), so keeping all my clothes and books strewn all over the floor because I don’t have enough storage space in the tiny apartment just makes me feel more at ease :) I’ve been getting to know the family I work for a lot better now that I’ve spent time with the kids for 2 weeks and I’m still overjoyed that I found this job. The children are extremely smart and fun to talk with; I’ve enjoyed playing “Guess Who” and different card games with them in English. My French students at school continue to keep my day occupied and full of excitement- one of my favorite questions so far was, “Justine, do you fly home every weekend to be with your family?” Yikes, that would be expensive and tiring! I just bought my plane ticket back to France for after Xmas vacation- I fly to Paris on January 1 and don’t return until July 16, so my sister and I have enough time to tour Europe for two weeks after I’m done teaching. I wasn’t expecting the $1,050 price tag seeing as how my first plane ticket was $750. Ouch. But, I’m probably the luckiest teaching assistant in Paris right now because I don’t have to pay rent or utilities, so the fact that we haven’t gotten paid yet isn’t hitting me hard at all (big thanks to the Bank of Mom and Dad for a generous loan). The other teaching assistants are getting extremely riled up that we haven’t been paid, but I’m not joining in the complaining. I didn’t think we were supposed to get paid before the end of November for our first paycheck, but apparently it’s written somewhere we’re supposed to be paid by the start of November. So, now that it’s November 13th and no one has been paid yet, frantic mass-emails are going around with angry letters people have sent to the Academy, as well as talks of strikes (grèves). Not sure how serious they are, but seems pretty silly to me. Personally, if I went on strike and didn’t show up at my schools, I’m not sure how much they’d miss me. I take over the classroom for 45 min/week and the regular teachers are with the students the remaining 25.25 hours- if I don’t show up, they’re not missing much. The only true statement I agree with is when people say they’ll have to break their contract and return home because they don’t have enough money. In this I see logic, and I find it hard to believe this teaching program has been going on for so long and they still can’t figure out a way to pay the assistants on time. Some justify their desire to strike with the idea that French workers would go on strike if they weren’t paid, but the thing is we’re not French. We are foreigners who are living here, yes, but we will never merit the same social justices as residents of the country, such as the right to strike. Plus, I’d prefer to keep my working visa active and not have it revoked for doing something crazy like going on strike!
I finally went to the movies last weekend for the first time since getting to Paris- a true French tradition. I can’t vouch for other cities in France, but the Parisians truly enjoy their cinema and I think they go out to movies more often than Americans. It’s practically a weekly ritual. Another assistant and I went to see “Away We Go”- just because we’re in France doesn’t mean we only have French movies to choose from! I would say at any given time in a mainstream chain theater at least 60% of the movies are American and play in English with French subtitles. I liked the movie, didn’t know anything about it going it, but it had a good story- somewhat bizarre characters, but a good ending. I’m not doing anything particularly exciting this weekend because I’ll be working on my med school applications, they sure are not something fun, but it will be very fulfilling to finally complete them! I’ve discovered the Farmville application on Facebook, so I will definitely be taking breaks from applications to harvest my strawberries…
I’ve been seeing a lot of Xmas decorations going up already here, both in Boissy-Saint-Léger and in Paris. The main things I’ve seen are lights that hang across the street from one building to the next, sometimes spelling out words like the name of the street or district in Paris. I kept thinking to myself, “This is crazy, it’s not even Thanksgiving yet!” before remembering France doesn’t celebrate Thanksgiving like we do. So, they don’t have the excuse over here to wait to put up decorations. About 10-12 teaching assistants are getting together and having our own Thanksgiving, one of the girls lives in a bigger apartment and her French roommates are going to partake in the festivities with us. I’m just glad I don’t have to cook the turkey. I wonder when I will have to cook one for the first time, and I’m thinking about all the friends I have who got married in the past year- will you be cooking your first Thanksgiving dinner this year? Yikes, seems scary to me! I’ve obviously not picked up on the French cooking tradition yet, we’ll see if that happens. I’m not against cooking, but I don’t really have a kitchen to start in here, so I’ll keep using that as my excuse. I’m proud that I figured out how to make toast without a toaster, instead using a frying pan on my burner. Basically, it’s like I’m camping in my Parisian apartment, luckily with running water for a shower and electricity for my refrigerator.
Tchao, Justine
Tuesday, November 3, 2009
Long post, but worth the read :)
Sunday, November 1, 2009
Very Long Post because it’s been a while! Key points:
I found a permanent place to stay, finally!
I have a fully functional bank account, so I can get paid!
I got to see my dad in Amsterdam this past week, fun!
And, I have internet that works, so I can call people again!
And now if you have some time to spare, the full post:
Well in the week following my last enthusiastic post, everything has been positive for me over here. I met with the family looking for a part-time English-speaking nanny on Friday night (October 23) and took the job on the spot. The family is French, and very kind and welcoming. They live in the ‘bourgeoisie’ part of town, meaning they have some money (the mom is a doctor and the dad is a lawyer). They have 3 kids, one girl and two boys: Pauline is 15 and she is already practically fluent in English, Thibault is 13 and can speak English, but he prefers French, and Antoine is a 10 year old aspiring to be a cook. Most of my time will be spent with him, picking him up from school and helping with homework. Thibault and Pauline are pretty independent, but I’ll be around at night after school is done and before their parents come home from work. The room they gave me is located one floor above their apartment and is very basic, but clean, and I have my own toilet, shower, refrigerator, sink, and 2 burners to prepare food. If ever I want to do more, I have full access to their apartment downstairs. It was the perfect opportunity for me because everything is furnished and provided for me (sheets, towels, silverware, plates, internet, utilities, etc) and I was the perfect candidate for the Weil family because they wanted to find someone who had another job where they were earning money. I am glad I will have a close relation with a family in France to help me feel more at home. If you ever want to write, my address is:
Justine Newhouse
88 rue de Tocqueville
75017 Paris
France
They don’t have mailboxes here, so I have to give my name to the guardian on the main level; he receives all the mail and then disperses it throughout the apartment building. I don’t know if that is a good thing or bad thing- this way we don’t get junk mail (which is Horrible over here, I think even worse than in the US), but who knows if mail ever gets mixed up or lost by the guardian. I guess I’ll find out.
I also finally got my bank account set up and fully functional after a few failed attempts, I now have a French credit card and French check book, so I’m all set to get paid! And now I don’t have to pay a foreign transaction fee when I want to take out money or use my credit card. Both the bank account and house situation were solved before I got on my train Monday morning (October 26) at 6:25am, so I didn’t have anything to worry about while on my vacation. I got into Amsterdam around 10:30am and to my dad’s hotel by 11am. He was finished with his meetings by noon on Monday, so we went into the city center with another Land O’ Lakes employee and visited the Van Gogh museum. The hotel was close to the airport, so about 12 miles outside the city center, and it took about 30 minutes on a commuter train to get into the city. So even though we couldn’t walk out the front door and into the beautiful canal settings, it was worth it for me to pay €8.80 for a round-trip train ticket rather than to pay €40/night for a hotel! So we figured out the trains after a bit of an ordeal (nothing happened, we just had trouble understanding the train schedules) and got into Amsterdam central station. Everyone says that Amsterdam is a biking city, and although I believed it, seeing the amount of traffic and people on bikes is amazing the first time. Bikes are parked all along the canals, and the bike parking at the train station looks like a bike warehouse, thousands of bikes as far as you can see. I can’t believe I didn’t see a single accident all week long with the way bikes weave in and out of traffic. Bikes mainly have the right of way, unless a car is turning in front of them entering the road from the right (just because there is a law doesn’t mean people obey it). Add the pedestrian chaos to the number of bikes and honking cars (and traffic lights that only stay green for 8 seconds!), it’s truly one big accident waiting to happen. But I guess not from my own experiences!
The Van Gogh museum is a pretty far walk from Amsterdam central, I don’t remember how many canals out it was. Amsterdam city is set up like half a bike wheel- the central train station is the center of the wheel, canals form semi-circles radiating out from the station and the roads are like spokes on the wheel. The museum is in a modern building, nothing interesting from the outside, but is very well organized on the inside. In his lifetime Van Gogh wrote something like 800 letters, and they usually keep 50-60 on display in the museum at one time. The letters are often to his brother or his artist friends, and they include sketches of his works in progress, or ideas for future works, or just small sketches that interest him at the time he was writing. Van Gogh’s younger brother was his art dealer, so many of the sketches in his letters show works that Van Gogh is painting at the moment to give his brother an idea of a future incoming painting to sell. He didn’t decide right away in life he wanted to be a painter, rather, he taught himself to paint around the age of 25, and painted a huge amount in the following 10 years before committing suicide. He recognized that he was extremely depressed and checked himself into the mental institution, where he still continued to paint up until his very last days.
After the museum, we met up with the other 2 guys from Land O’ Lakes and went on a canal cruise. The buildings weren’t always lit up and were somewhat hard to see at night, but it was amazing the amount of waterways they have all interconnected throughout the city, and the number of house boats!! I think there are around 2,000 houseboats in Amsterdam, all paying normal ‘property’ taxes for their small piece of canal. People live on the boats year-round because most are equipped with gas systems for heating. We found a nice bar/restaurant for dinner and had fish. When the food came, I thought the scales were still on the fish because they were silver, but it was just the skin. I had a minor panic attack about eating fish scales, but all went ok.
On Tuesday Dad had meetings so I was on my own in the city. I went running in the morning at the hotel so I got a late start, but basically the whole city of Amsterdam gets a late start- they don’t have a scandalous drinking/drugs reputation for nothing. Most monuments open at 10am and only stay open till 5pm, so the best thing to do was take the train in at 9am, get there around 9:30am, and walk to the museum for the 10am opening to beat the crowds. I didn’t get to Amsterdam till 11:30am on Tuesday, and I signed up for a bike tour starting at 1:30pm. I had enough time to go inside the Nieuwe Kerk (New Church) in the city’s main square, and then returned for my bike ride. After seeing the chaos from the day before, I knew the only way I’d feel comfortable riding a bike around the city was with a guide. Our guide was Pim (a very Dutch name) and he spoke English fluently, along with Czech, and of course Dutch. I’m pretty sure those rank way up there in the list of hardest languages to learn! The bike tour was 3.5 hours and went all around the city, stopping about 10 times at key historical areas. We started off at the main harbor just north of Amsterdam Central train station, then rode over to the Western Islands, across the smallest bridge in the city, stopped to look at possibly the skinniest house (only 2 meters wide- people are taxed based on the width of their house along the canal, so they had a skinny front along the canal, then expanded the width toward the back of the house), and of course ended the tour by walking the bikes through the red light district. It really was the shortest way back to the bike rental office, but I’m sure it’s planned because you really can’t omit the Red Light District from an Amsterdam tour. I’ll just say that yes, prostitution and drugs are legal, and it’s obvious.
I went back to the hotel for dinner, then an early night because I was TIRED from running in the morning and biking all afternoon. Wednesday I started off with the Anne Frank house, which had a large emotional impact on me. I’ve read the book but have not seen the movie, and I think the house is a definite must-see stop in Amsterdam because it gives a living personality to all the suffering during WWII, and brings you to the actual location where Anne Frank was hiding to save her life. I then went into the Royal Palace, which started out as a government city hall, but turned into a palace for Louis Napoleon (brother of Napoleon Bonaparte) and in modern days, it is where the Dutch royalty stay when in Amsterdam. Most of the rooms have been renovated to restore their 18th century colors and furniture, and it’s hard for me to imagine using the extravagant rooms as if it were a regular part of everyday life. Dad’s meetings got done early on Wednesday so he and Frank (who came with us to Van Gogh) came into the city and we walked around. We tried to make it to the Rembrandthuis (Rembrandt house) before it closed, but didn’t succeed. Because their negotiation meetings finished a day early, the Land O’ Lakes guys all had the option of flying home on Thursday rather than Friday, but Dad decided to stay with me the extra day in Amsterdam. So he went to see the Anne Frank house on Thursday morning while I went to a purse museum- Dad decided it wasn’t really something he wanted to see. I saw a collection of over 1,000 purses dating back to the 1600’s, chronicling the evolution of the ‘belt coin purse’ into the modern day hand bag. Then Dad and I met at the Rembrandthuis to do the tour, and we got to see a printing press demonstration showing how Rembrandt personally made copies of his etchings. The house was very large and grand in Rembrandt’s time, and he wasn’t able to pay off the loans, basically giving him a financial burden for the rest of his life.
Dad and I did some tourist shopping, I bought some wooden shoe shaped slippers, and we both found some wooden tulips and Delft vases to put them in. Of course Dad bought flowers to plant next spring, and I bought a great Xmas gift for the family grab bag- so to those Newhouse family members reading, you’ll see it soon at the family get together. I’m sure it will be the ‘hot’ item this year. I got some great news in Amsterdam- I was invited to submit a secondary application to the U of MN med school. It seems they are the only school that actually has a screening process after the primary applications are submitted because all the other medical schools sent me automatically generated invitations to their secondary applications within 48 hours of turning in my first application. So I’m really excited, that was the last school I was waiting to hear from.
Now I’m back in Paris after a close call to make my train (I thought I could take a commuter train from the hotel into central Amsterdam station at 5:30am, arrive at 6:00am, and then board my Paris train in plenty of time before the 6:25am departure. Well, the 5:30am commuter train I wanted only runs on weekends, so I had to take a 5:35am train to the airport, then catch another commuter train into the central station, and basically I got onto my Paris train less than one minute before it pulled out of the station- Whew). I’m arranging all my stuff in my new apartment and finishing up some cleaning in the place I was staying. I’ve already taken 4 trips to bring my stuff from one place to the next on the métro, one suitcase each time, and yet I still have all my teaching supplies left to move. Who knows how I accumulated an extra suitcase full of stuff in the month I’ve been here…
Very Long Post because it’s been a while! Key points:
I found a permanent place to stay, finally!
I have a fully functional bank account, so I can get paid!
I got to see my dad in Amsterdam this past week, fun!
And, I have internet that works, so I can call people again!
And now if you have some time to spare, the full post:
Well in the week following my last enthusiastic post, everything has been positive for me over here. I met with the family looking for a part-time English-speaking nanny on Friday night (October 23) and took the job on the spot. The family is French, and very kind and welcoming. They live in the ‘bourgeoisie’ part of town, meaning they have some money (the mom is a doctor and the dad is a lawyer). They have 3 kids, one girl and two boys: Pauline is 15 and she is already practically fluent in English, Thibault is 13 and can speak English, but he prefers French, and Antoine is a 10 year old aspiring to be a cook. Most of my time will be spent with him, picking him up from school and helping with homework. Thibault and Pauline are pretty independent, but I’ll be around at night after school is done and before their parents come home from work. The room they gave me is located one floor above their apartment and is very basic, but clean, and I have my own toilet, shower, refrigerator, sink, and 2 burners to prepare food. If ever I want to do more, I have full access to their apartment downstairs. It was the perfect opportunity for me because everything is furnished and provided for me (sheets, towels, silverware, plates, internet, utilities, etc) and I was the perfect candidate for the Weil family because they wanted to find someone who had another job where they were earning money. I am glad I will have a close relation with a family in France to help me feel more at home. If you ever want to write, my address is:
Justine Newhouse
88 rue de Tocqueville
75017 Paris
France
They don’t have mailboxes here, so I have to give my name to the guardian on the main level; he receives all the mail and then disperses it throughout the apartment building. I don’t know if that is a good thing or bad thing- this way we don’t get junk mail (which is Horrible over here, I think even worse than in the US), but who knows if mail ever gets mixed up or lost by the guardian. I guess I’ll find out.
I also finally got my bank account set up and fully functional after a few failed attempts, I now have a French credit card and French check book, so I’m all set to get paid! And now I don’t have to pay a foreign transaction fee when I want to take out money or use my credit card. Both the bank account and house situation were solved before I got on my train Monday morning (October 26) at 6:25am, so I didn’t have anything to worry about while on my vacation. I got into Amsterdam around 10:30am and to my dad’s hotel by 11am. He was finished with his meetings by noon on Monday, so we went into the city center with another Land O’ Lakes employee and visited the Van Gogh museum. The hotel was close to the airport, so about 12 miles outside the city center, and it took about 30 minutes on a commuter train to get into the city. So even though we couldn’t walk out the front door and into the beautiful canal settings, it was worth it for me to pay €8.80 for a round-trip train ticket rather than to pay €40/night for a hotel! So we figured out the trains after a bit of an ordeal (nothing happened, we just had trouble understanding the train schedules) and got into Amsterdam central station. Everyone says that Amsterdam is a biking city, and although I believed it, seeing the amount of traffic and people on bikes is amazing the first time. Bikes are parked all along the canals, and the bike parking at the train station looks like a bike warehouse, thousands of bikes as far as you can see. I can’t believe I didn’t see a single accident all week long with the way bikes weave in and out of traffic. Bikes mainly have the right of way, unless a car is turning in front of them entering the road from the right (just because there is a law doesn’t mean people obey it). Add the pedestrian chaos to the number of bikes and honking cars (and traffic lights that only stay green for 8 seconds!), it’s truly one big accident waiting to happen. But I guess not from my own experiences!
The Van Gogh museum is a pretty far walk from Amsterdam central, I don’t remember how many canals out it was. Amsterdam city is set up like half a bike wheel- the central train station is the center of the wheel, canals form semi-circles radiating out from the station and the roads are like spokes on the wheel. The museum is in a modern building, nothing interesting from the outside, but is very well organized on the inside. In his lifetime Van Gogh wrote something like 800 letters, and they usually keep 50-60 on display in the museum at one time. The letters are often to his brother or his artist friends, and they include sketches of his works in progress, or ideas for future works, or just small sketches that interest him at the time he was writing. Van Gogh’s younger brother was his art dealer, so many of the sketches in his letters show works that Van Gogh is painting at the moment to give his brother an idea of a future incoming painting to sell. He didn’t decide right away in life he wanted to be a painter, rather, he taught himself to paint around the age of 25, and painted a huge amount in the following 10 years before committing suicide. He recognized that he was extremely depressed and checked himself into the mental institution, where he still continued to paint up until his very last days.
After the museum, we met up with the other 2 guys from Land O’ Lakes and went on a canal cruise. The buildings weren’t always lit up and were somewhat hard to see at night, but it was amazing the amount of waterways they have all interconnected throughout the city, and the number of house boats!! I think there are around 2,000 houseboats in Amsterdam, all paying normal ‘property’ taxes for their small piece of canal. People live on the boats year-round because most are equipped with gas systems for heating. We found a nice bar/restaurant for dinner and had fish. When the food came, I thought the scales were still on the fish because they were silver, but it was just the skin. I had a minor panic attack about eating fish scales, but all went ok.
On Tuesday Dad had meetings so I was on my own in the city. I went running in the morning at the hotel so I got a late start, but basically the whole city of Amsterdam gets a late start- they don’t have a scandalous drinking/drugs reputation for nothing. Most monuments open at 10am and only stay open till 5pm, so the best thing to do was take the train in at 9am, get there around 9:30am, and walk to the museum for the 10am opening to beat the crowds. I didn’t get to Amsterdam till 11:30am on Tuesday, and I signed up for a bike tour starting at 1:30pm. I had enough time to go inside the Nieuwe Kerk (New Church) in the city’s main square, and then returned for my bike ride. After seeing the chaos from the day before, I knew the only way I’d feel comfortable riding a bike around the city was with a guide. Our guide was Pim (a very Dutch name) and he spoke English fluently, along with Czech, and of course Dutch. I’m pretty sure those rank way up there in the list of hardest languages to learn! The bike tour was 3.5 hours and went all around the city, stopping about 10 times at key historical areas. We started off at the main harbor just north of Amsterdam Central train station, then rode over to the Western Islands, across the smallest bridge in the city, stopped to look at possibly the skinniest house (only 2 meters wide- people are taxed based on the width of their house along the canal, so they had a skinny front along the canal, then expanded the width toward the back of the house), and of course ended the tour by walking the bikes through the red light district. It really was the shortest way back to the bike rental office, but I’m sure it’s planned because you really can’t omit the Red Light District from an Amsterdam tour. I’ll just say that yes, prostitution and drugs are legal, and it’s obvious.
I went back to the hotel for dinner, then an early night because I was TIRED from running in the morning and biking all afternoon. Wednesday I started off with the Anne Frank house, which had a large emotional impact on me. I’ve read the book but have not seen the movie, and I think the house is a definite must-see stop in Amsterdam because it gives a living personality to all the suffering during WWII, and brings you to the actual location where Anne Frank was hiding to save her life. I then went into the Royal Palace, which started out as a government city hall, but turned into a palace for Louis Napoleon (brother of Napoleon Bonaparte) and in modern days, it is where the Dutch royalty stay when in Amsterdam. Most of the rooms have been renovated to restore their 18th century colors and furniture, and it’s hard for me to imagine using the extravagant rooms as if it were a regular part of everyday life. Dad’s meetings got done early on Wednesday so he and Frank (who came with us to Van Gogh) came into the city and we walked around. We tried to make it to the Rembrandthuis (Rembrandt house) before it closed, but didn’t succeed. Because their negotiation meetings finished a day early, the Land O’ Lakes guys all had the option of flying home on Thursday rather than Friday, but Dad decided to stay with me the extra day in Amsterdam. So he went to see the Anne Frank house on Thursday morning while I went to a purse museum- Dad decided it wasn’t really something he wanted to see. I saw a collection of over 1,000 purses dating back to the 1600’s, chronicling the evolution of the ‘belt coin purse’ into the modern day hand bag. Then Dad and I met at the Rembrandthuis to do the tour, and we got to see a printing press demonstration showing how Rembrandt personally made copies of his etchings. The house was very large and grand in Rembrandt’s time, and he wasn’t able to pay off the loans, basically giving him a financial burden for the rest of his life.
Dad and I did some tourist shopping, I bought some wooden shoe shaped slippers, and we both found some wooden tulips and Delft vases to put them in. Of course Dad bought flowers to plant next spring, and I bought a great Xmas gift for the family grab bag- so to those Newhouse family members reading, you’ll see it soon at the family get together. I’m sure it will be the ‘hot’ item this year. I got some great news in Amsterdam- I was invited to submit a secondary application to the U of MN med school. It seems they are the only school that actually has a screening process after the primary applications are submitted because all the other medical schools sent me automatically generated invitations to their secondary applications within 48 hours of turning in my first application. So I’m really excited, that was the last school I was waiting to hear from.
Now I’m back in Paris after a close call to make my train (I thought I could take a commuter train from the hotel into central Amsterdam station at 5:30am, arrive at 6:00am, and then board my Paris train in plenty of time before the 6:25am departure. Well, the 5:30am commuter train I wanted only runs on weekends, so I had to take a 5:35am train to the airport, then catch another commuter train into the central station, and basically I got onto my Paris train less than one minute before it pulled out of the station- Whew). I’m arranging all my stuff in my new apartment and finishing up some cleaning in the place I was staying. I’ve already taken 4 trips to bring my stuff from one place to the next on the métro, one suitcase each time, and yet I still have all my teaching supplies left to move. Who knows how I accumulated an extra suitcase full of stuff in the month I’ve been here…
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