Exotic Locality

On this perfectly beautiful day, October 27, 2009, Andrew and I decided to go on one of our exploring adventures in Paris. You may or may not know that my husband is a very good cook, and I don't just mean in the food he makes, but in the whole process: he takes risks, learns from his mistakes, and is always willing to try something new, be it a method of cooking or a food itself. While Andrew has enjoyed cooking for quite sometime, it's difficult to stay motivated while cooking in our tiny 2-burner-electric-stove-and-mini-fridge kitchen. But Andrew has found some new motivation when we saw the film Julie and Julia, which we highly recommend as it could encourage anyone to really work up an appetite for cooking and tasting delicious home-cooked meals! So I have been the beneficiary of my husband's latest cooking exploits: pan-fried trout with a lemony butter-garlic sauce, leek and potato reduction with Saucisse de Toulouse, and tonight red-wine-braised duck manchons with sauteed brussels sprouts! Mmm! So on today's outing we decided to visit an area we'd been to just once, and very briefly, in the past, to re-visit some cooking stores and discover what else it had to offer.

The area that I refer to is in the 1st and 2nd arrondissements (districts) of Paris, and once contained the famous "Les Halles" market and distribution center. This was no ordinary market, but actually revolutionized food distribution and buying in Paris and worldwide. "Les halles" were huge covered "kiosks" made of glass and iron, designed in the 1850's as a means of centralizing the market in Paris, allowing for shoppers to find everything in one place. It was more of an industrial undertaking, affecting restauranteurs, butchers, shop owners, etc, and through them individual family shoppers. This marketplace was HUGE (and a frequented favorite of Julia Child herself!) until it unfortunately had to be torn down in 1971 because it was so overcrowded and in a state of terrible disrepair. The modern Les Halles area now contains a giant underground shopping mall, but even the shopping mall is built in such a way that it commemorates and reminds of the once so revolutionary marketplace that was born here.

The area remains very "foodie" oriented to this day. Put it this way, "Les Halles" wasn't nicknamed "the stomach of Paris" for nothin'! A name like that sticks! So "Les Halles" in today's Paris contains all kinds of interesting shops and quirky stuffs. We went in some amazing cooking stores, where you could find unique tools, and even more unique ingredients. We're talking Parisian chef-supply central!!

This one's for you, Lorraine!!

There are age-old cafes, some of them look like they're actually about to fall over. There are beautiful fruits and vegetables in overflowing displays, the freshest fish and cheeses just waiting to be discovered around every turn. We walked past the absolutely BEST smelling pastry shop in the entire world...Andrew actually said he wanted to bottle that scent so he could sell it as perfume! Another of the shops seemed beautiful enough to eat, and that's before considering the delectable pastries inside.

See what I mean? You could eat up this shop, it's just so sweet!!

Seeming slightly out-of-place in this otherwise very traditional area were a handful of boutique-type sushi bars. And strangely enough with all this food around, this was probably the cleanest neighborhood we've ever been in in Paris (which is saying a lot, since Paris is a pretty clean for a city). It was like a way less crowded and way more authentic Latin Quarter, which, if you know that area of Paris at all, is a really heavenly combination!

The lovely ambiance of today's excursion.

As much as I'm sure this sounds so romantic and adventurous to you, dear reader, to us it has been inspiring in a whole different way: we've come to recognize that this type of "exotic locality" can be found really anywhere, in unique and wonderful ways! It has inspired us to become acquainted with our town, our state, our country, when we come home! We can't wait to see what's in store for us, what's been there all along. As much as we love Paris, and value our experiences and knowledge acquired here, we are thrilled to know how much discovering we have to do when we go home. Funny how going away makes you realize that! We're determined too to keep eating great food, both out and about and when we're at home. We don't want to eat at chain restaurants so much because they're not the "real," the local cuisine. We want to find those hold-in-the-wall places that have taken on the spirit of the town, that have been around since before anyone can remember. We want the "real deal." Lucky for us that everywhere has a "real deal," and it's well worth the effort to discover what exactly that is!

Learning to live in the moment

This experience in France has taught us many, many things, for which I am thankful! I've talked in the past about these sort of lulls that we tend to enter into after a while, when life gets easy and comfortable, when you fall into a routine (in a bad way). This has made it increasingly clear to me how much my attitude, habits, and behavior affect not only myself but the world around me. Inasmuch as we (humanity) tend to become creatures of habit, expecting rather the same each day, and not doing anything to really enhance or change that expectation, I've realized too a certain anomaly of our behavior, which is the expectation of the future. In this sense, I mean "expectation" in perhaps its most nervous, negative, and nasty connotation.

Being in France hasn't been easy (though I can barely believe how quickly our five-and-a-half months here have literally flown by!) It has presented lots of challenges, and lots of unknowns. While we've drawn closer together through these, as we together learn to rely on God for answers, for patience, for His will, we continue to struggle through such situations. If you've followed our blog from the beginning you've surely noticed that I tend to be a fearful person--I often trouble myself with worrying about the future. Whether these be simple or complex issues doesn't seem to matter much. All I know is that I get an idea into my mind and I tend to worry myself sick over it. Later on I'll often realize that I worried for nothing, and sometimes even feel guilty over my mis-trusting behavior. Not that one ought to step blindly into the future with some "leap of faith" (yeah, don't think we're supposed to do that in a literal sense), but perhaps we are instead called to live each day to its fullest extent, yet always with the future and what my Grandpa Braun would boom out calling "the KINGdom of GOD!

I've really come to realize a lot about this here. I've been starting to fall into this habit of fear and worry again as our time to return home approaches. While we love and miss everyone dearly, I constantly think of how changed we will find people and things that we left. Of course, all shall be yet familiar (I hope), but lots of things will be different. Sometimes thinking about it is enough to make me want to stay here in France where I feel secure. After all, I have a job that I love, I know my life, I get to live in this fabulous city with my husband, we can pay to live here and we have no excess bills, no cars, no repairs...but I know that none of this means actual security. More a lack of serious responsibility! Thankfully the Lord has shown me to folly of such thinking, and I am seeking to mend my thoughts.

Well while I've been considering all these things, I was pleasantly surprised to find my thoughts nicely "worked out" for me (at least partially, but very logically) by C.S. Lewis. I borrowed a collection of his signature works from a friend, and started with the Screwtape Letters, which I haven't read before. Figured I'd switch off between fiction and nonfiction until I finish the book. Well, I'll leave you with Lewis, who I'm sure can explain this all much better than I can hope or attempt to. In this passage, veteran demon "Screwtape" is writing to his novice demon nephew, "Wormwood" about one of the most tried and true ways to distract humans from the goals set up for them by "The Enemy" (Who is, in this twisted mindset, Christ the Lord):

I had noticed, of course, that the humans were having a lull in their European war—what they naïvely call "The War"!—and am not surprised that there is a corresponding lull in the patient's anxieties. Do we want to encourage this, or to keep him worried? Tortured fear and stupid confidence are both desirable states of mind. Our choice between them raises important questions.
The humans live in time but our Enemy destines them to eternity. He therefore, I believe, wants them to attend chiefly to two things, to eternity itself, and to that point of time which they call the Present. For the Present is the point at which time touches eternity. Of the present moment, and of it only, humans have an experience analogous to the experience which our Enemy has of reality as a whole; in it alone freedom and actuality are offered them. He would therefore have them continually concerned either with eternity (which means being concerned with Him) or with the Present—either meditating on their eternal union with, or separation from, Himself, or else obeying the present voice of conscience, bearing the present cross, receiving the present grace, giving thanks for the present pleasure.
Our business is to get them away from the eternal, and from the Present. With this in view, we sometimes tempt a human (say a widow or a scholar) to live in the Past. But this is of limited value, for they have some real knowledge of the past and it has a determinate nature and, to that extent, resembles eternity. .It is far better to make them live in the Future. Biological necessity makes all their passions point in that direction already, so that thought about the Future inflames hope and fear. Also, it is unknown to them, so that in making them think about it we make them think of unrealities. In a word, the Future is, of all things, the thing least like eternity. It is the most completely temporal part of time—for the Past is frozen and no longer flows, and the Present is all lit up with eternal rays. Hence the encouragement we have given to all those schemes of thought such as Creative Evolution, Scientific Humanism, or Communism, which fix men's affections on the Future, on the very core of temporality. Hence nearly all vices are rooted in the future. Gratitude looks to the past and love to the present; fear, avarice, lust, and ambition look ahead. Do not think lust an exception. When the present pleasure arrives, the sin (which alone interests us) is already over. The pleasure is just the part of the process which we regret and would exclude if we could do so without losing the sin; it is the part contributed by the Enemy, and therefore experienced in a Present. The sin, which is our contribution, looked forward.
To be sure, the Enemy wants men to think of the Future too—just so much as is necessary for now planning the acts of justice or charity which will probably be their duty tomorrow. The duty of planning the morrow's work is today's duty; though its material is borrowed from the future, the duty, like all duties, is in the Present. This is not straw splitting. He does not want men to give the Future their hearts, to place their treasure in it. We do. His ideal is a man who, having worked all day for the good of posterity (if that is his vocation), washes his mind of the whole subject, commits the issue to Heaven, and returns at once to the patience or gratitude demanded by the moment that is passing over him. But we want a man hag-ridden by the Future—haunted by visions of an imminent heaven or hell upon earth—ready to break the Enemy's commands in the present if by so doing we make him think he can attain the one or avert the other—dependent for his faith on the success or failure of schemes whose end he will not live to see. We want a whole race perpetually in pursuit of the rainbow's end, never honest, nor kind, nor happy now, but always using as mere fuel wherewith to heap the altar of the future every real gift which is offered them in the Present.
It follows then, in general, and other things being equal, that it is better for your patient to be filled with anxiety or hope (it doesn't much matter which) about this war than for him to be living in the present. But the phrase "living in the present" is ambiguous. It may describe a process which is really just as much concerned with the Future as anxiety itself. Your man may be untroubled about the Future, not because he is concerned with the Present, but because he has persuaded himself that the Future is, going to be agreeable. As long as that is the real course of his tranquillity, his tranquillity will do us good, because it is only piling up more disappointment, and therefore more impatience, for him when his false hopes are dashed. If, on the other hand, he is aware that horrors may be in store for him and is praying for the virtues, wherewith to meet them, and meanwhile concerning himself with the Present because there, and there alone, all duty, all grace, all knowledge, and all pleasure dwell, his state is very undesirable and should be attacked at once. Here again, our Philological Arm has done good work; try the word "complacency" on him. But, of course, it is most likely that he is "living in the Present" for none of these reasons but simply because his health is good and he is enjoying his work. The phenomenon would then be merely natural. All the same, I should break it up if I were you. No natural phenomenon is really in our favour. And anyway, why should the creature be happy?
Pray for us!

Window-lickin' good!

Well, as intended, I am going to try to make up for my total lack of bloginess from last month by offering additional posts this month. Lucky you, reader! :-) Since my parents arrived last Monday, we've been engaging in a favorite French pasttime, and the subject of today's post: window licking!!

So, now that I have your attention, allow me to soliloquize (which shouldn't be too difficult since I'm sitting here very full, with my feet up, listening to Norah Jones, after a sight-seeing and window-licking day spent with mom)!

Window-licking has always been enjoyable, but it's even more fun when you have someone to share in the experience with. And of course I think being in Paris helps, too! I think that's why mom and I have been doing so much of it lately: it sort of just happens naturally here. You're walking around, see some delicious window, and you just want to lick it! And it's not always because there's chocolate on display either; we've been licking lots of shoes lately, too!

This is the window of Christian Leboutin...I think the shoes sort of speak for themselves. Note his famous trademark red-soled design.

Ballet-inspired foot wear is very of-the-moment in Paris right now. Loved this colorful display, and that it was just outside the Opera where "Giselle" is playing this week!

Probably every girl who has ever danced on toe has worn dance shoes made by this manufacturer, Bloch. They've chosen the perfect time to introduce their brand-new line of dance-inspired footwear.

Definitely my favorite in the Bloch window display!! These were the tiniest baby slippers!! Eeeep!

To "leche-vitrines" is a great way to experience Paris fashion and spend nothing at all. Of course, you've probably understood by this point that what I'm actually speaking of is window-shopping. Personally, I find it interesting that the term in French evokes a very sensual experience. If you think about it though, window-licking makes a lot of sense: what you see displayed gives you a taste of what is within. Paris, being such a sensual city, understands this concept very well, and I don't think that outrageous, colorful, snazzy displays are anything new. On the contrary, this almost competitive sport has a long history, and applies to ad-campaigns the same way it applies to the wares in the windows...

Here is a typical ad for the famed Galeries Lafayette of Paris. This almost un-believable department store has taken precedence over others in Paris largely due to their outrageous ad campaigns. Again, note the ballet theme.

What can you make people think? Want? Crave? with the way you display your product...that gives you the power!

I'm thinkin' "Yes!!" This cute display in a Harrod's shop window just outside the fabulously chic Paris Opera House advertises for the "Premier Flirt" line of bags. "The first flirt is forever." And I loved the old vintage post-cards up the right hand corner.

This time I'm thinking BIG "no," (*insert annoying buzzer clip with giant red "X" through the middle from "Family Feud"*) Not only do I not want to go in this store, but the window tastes terrible!

I can't tell you how much we've been "oohing and aahing" our way around Paris during the past few days! But how can you help it? That's what window-licking is designed for, and I think specifically for the "capture" women. These ideas aren't uniquely mine, of course. One of the best books I've ever read, French author Emile Zola's The Ladies' Paradise, deals exactly with this subject. It is a fabulous book and I highly recommend it! Thanks to Trenna for turning me on to the book, I've read it twice since she brought it to me in July! Aside from the incredible characters that the story reveals, the depiction of the rise of the department store at the height of the 19th century inspires vivid images and emotions for the reader. Speaking of which, one last little thing:

We had a lovely time window-licking our way through a few "Galeries" today like this one. They testify to the glories of French shopping in pure 19th-century style. Before the birth of the department store in France, this was how one accessed many different products in one place--in a covered byway with collections of stores. Of the 120 or so galleries that existed in Paris in the 19th century, only about 30 now remain. This is the "Galerie Vivienne," one of the most chic and best-preserved, and still a fabulous place to see and be seen.

Last but not least, this one's for you, Teresa (mom says "hi" and she loves you, by the way!):

So Happy Together

Well, this is terribly embarrassing...I can't believe that I have taken over a month to write a new blog! At the same time, I have more than one excuse: firstly, and most significantly impeding my progress, was the fact that our computer broke down completely a few days into September. We are thankful though, because we would be needing a new one soon anyway, which we bought and commissioned my parents to bring when they arrived in Paris this past Monday (Sept. 28). Secondly, we had our very good friends, Rob and Robin Schannep, visiting us for a week at the beginning of September. We had a marvelous time with our dear friends, even through various sickness and "plague" that seemed to strike them during their visit. They were quite the troopers, and have assured us that they loved seeing Paris. We of course LOVED having them here and showing them the sights!! Mostly we just had a great time being back together with some dear friends. The funny thing is that when we first saw each other, we all felt that it couldn't have been four months since we'd last been together. Rather, it was like old times, them coming to our place for dinner or a night out, except we now happen to live in Paris.

I wanted to share some photos from our adventures with the Schanneps...

Introducing (drum roll please): Rob and Robin!!! Aren't they so cute?

The Schanneps arrived on Andrew's 23rd birthday, so we went out to "our" restaurant in the Latin Quarter for a delicious supper of hot goat cheese salad, duck confit, and creme brulee! When the waiter (our buddy Zidan) brought in the creme brulee, he turned out ALL the lights in the restaurant in order to sing to Andrew. Well, he started in a terrible key, and ended up singing a rather shaky solo of "Joyeaux Anniversaire" until the entirety of the restaurant joined in for the last verse!!

Celebrating Ange's 23rd birthday!! What a perfect day to entertain our dear friends from America!!! I actually love the way this photo turned out, but when we took it I was being very silly and making "princess hands"...

We left the restaurant "tres contents" (very happy) and full of delicious food and fond memories. It started raining outside before we left the restaurant, and the streets shone more brightly than usual as we walked home through Paris. That's what rain and friendship in one of the most beautiful cities on earth will do to you!

After a visit to Disneyland to see Cinderella, and a day to themselves in Paris to explore the Louvre and the Champs-Elysees, the Schanneps joined up with us for more artistic adventures. The first Sunday of each month in Paris offers free admission to many of the museums around the city. So after celebrating the Divine Liturgy at La Sainte Trinite, and then enjoying a take-away lunch with our legs dangling over the walls of the Seine, we made our way to the Musee D'Orsay, the famous impressionist museum of Paris.

I loved seeing the Monets, while Robin's favorite artist is Van Gogh. It's so incredible not only to think that he couldn't make it big with his paintings, but that Claude Monet's art was actually despised during his lifetime. Makes you think about the changing of time...I wonder what Monet's critics would say if they saw the modern art at the Gugenheim museum.



The Musee D'Orsay is housed in what used to be the Gare D'Orsay--a train station. When the station went out of use, there were question about what was to be done with it, or if it should just be torn down. Around that time, Orson Wells was filming a movie in Paris, and ran out of money for shooting on the locations he had chosen. Desperate as to how he could go about continuing the film, he looked out his window and saw the abandoned Gare D'Orsay. Nothing could be more perfect for his film, so he shot the entirety of the rest of the film in various parts of the train station. The time that he took in the process allowed for the station to be "salvaged" by its fans, and was later converted into a museum to house Paris' famous impressionist art, among other beautiful collections.



I think this is a beautiful setting for a museum, especially because of the natural lighting.

We also paid a visit to the Musee Rodin, to view the sculptor's beautiful works, among them his famous "Thinker," as well as the "Gates of Hell" (from Dante's Inferno), and "The Kiss," which I think was my favorite of all his sculptures.

The original "Thinker" is actually a very small figure who sits atop the "Gates of Hell," possibly as a representation of Dante himself, and/or his narrator. After creating the "Gates of Hell," Rodin was inspired to make his "Thinker" its own work on a more grand scale.

We also took a day to explore the Ile de la Cite, to see the Notre Dame, and the Ile St. Louis, to get gelato and Berthillon ice cream! Robin and I discovered a beautiful flower market, all housed in various covered green stalls. The boys and girls split up for an evening too, so that we could have some good "tete-a-tete" talks. We also walked around the Eiffel Tower, where we tried to take one of these photos....

We can never seem to get it right!! It was very bright outside, so we were already all laughing because we couldn't see! Then, we just couldn't get a good photo of the four of us...of course our friends are very photogenic, and apparently Andrew and I are very photo-challenged. We took SO many photos, and I'm sure everyone around us thought we were crazy the way we were all laughing so hard. But we finally got one that, well, sort of turned out okay.

So, that's it about adventures for the present. We were sad to see our friends go, but of course seeing them in the first place made it completely worth while!! We miss them dearly, and miss you all, too. Things are getting busy again, what with my parents arriving the same day that Andrew returned from a long weekend in London to visit a friend there. More about all of that soon. For now, thanks for letting me share with you, and I promise to do more of that in the near future now that we've got a computer again! Shout-out to Theresa and my Aunt Judy, who I hear have sorely missed my musings! :-) Thanks again for taking an interest, but more so for your support and prayers.

Fontainebleau

You can tell that we are settling in to life here in Paris. I feel bad when I look at my blog posts from past months and see how they become less and less. Not that life isn't exciting or "new" anymore, but we are getting used to the way things are here. It takes more of an effort to go out, although we are always thankful when we do. Sometimes though, it's just easier to fall into old habits--staying at home watching movies while we have the munchies--rather than going out and discovering more of the beauty around us in one of the world's most fascinating cities. We had a bit of a wakeup call this past Saturday when we had our first actual travel experience since our arrival in Paris...

Life can be a Carousel, you get on and don't even notice what's going on as you go round and round.

I miraculously got the day off on Saturday (first Saturday off since our second week in Paris!) so we decided to make it a holiday! All the rest of Paris has "fait des vacances" (literally "make vacation/holiday"), so why shouldn't we?! Of course, our vacation was different, one day as opposed to the five weeks paid vacation that Parisians gain after just one year of employment in a company. (This is totally standard fare...even at Disneyland everyone gets this after the first year!) Since we had so little time, we had to find something relatively local. However, we also wanted to take the opportunity to get out of the city. We decided to go to visit the Chateau de Fontainebleau in the city of Avon, about an hour outside of Paris by train.

Andrew with the Chateau

We were both very excited upon boarding the train. We wandered around the Art Deco interior of the Gare de Lyon train station in Paris, watching the TGVs coming in from all over France, enjoying the bustle of the city trying to squeeze in a last hurrah before school begins again. We had packed a delicious looking picnic lunch and were settled: this was a day to relax, to enjoy being together, and to have a holiday from the familiar life that we have begun to settle into. We watched the country fly by outside our windows, giddy with the thought of change! This short and simple journey reawakened a desire in us: didn't we love to travel? Isn't that one of the big reasons we came here--to see Europe? We decided to make a more conscious effort to see Paris as much as we could, but also to get out of it as often as possible. This little day trip was a lovely refresher for us, for our relationship, for our being.

We arrived in the town too late to visit the chateau, but we didn't mind...we were here for us, not to get things done! We walked through the grounds and admired the lovely gardens of the chateau.

The extensive grounds. The grand canal begins just beyond the fountain in the background...

We finally reached the Grand Canal that sprawled into a great park behind the chateau. The canal was lined with overgrown banks, full of green life. Next, on either side, came sheltered paths, and then an organized forest.

The Grand Canal, also the view to the left from our picnic spot. You can see the rooftops of the castle behind the trees in the center of the photo.

View to the right...what a perfect day!

We found a perfect spot for our picnic and had a lovely time, at least when we weren't fighting gnats! There were thousands of them along the banks of the canal, and when the breeze would die down, they came to attack us again and again! We fought with valor, and I must say we must have been quite a sight to behold...guarding our precious picnic by warding off the pests with plastic plates!

Our phenomenal lunch

Finally the breeze decided it was on our side, and being stuffed with cheese, bread, wine, fruit, and chocolate, we fell asleep in the tall grass.

Nap time! We are here to relax.

Upon awakening, we wandered back through the grounds to the town. We stopped for some cool drinks (tasty iced coffee for me, and refreshing minted water for Ange) at a cute "Salon de The" (tea house) before catching the train back home.

Cute lil' tea room

Very content to be enjoying this delicious, actual iced coffee at the end of our date!

All in all, a marvelous day!

City of Lights, City of Nights

One often hears about Paris being the “City of Lights.” Being here, I’ve discovered how very true that is! Paris, with its massive monuments and reflecting river, is always beautiful in the daytime. But it is these very qualities which make it so beautiful, so breathtaking, at night. The spirit and pulse of the nighttime city is only more obvious because of the Parisians and their living habits. After all, we’re talking about a culture where the dinner hour regularly commences after 8pm, and most cafés are open until 2am!

Part of what gave me this new cultural insight is the fact that I’ve recently had some early mornings in Paris. Morning on the streets of Paris is one of those times that reveals just how different this city is from other cities, at least the ones I’ve been to. In a big American city, New York, LA, Boston, for example, the whole city seems to be waking up before the sun does. It’s the people who bring the city and its contents to life. In Paris, the opposite is true: it seems to be the sun which warms and wakens the sleepy people. The typical workday here begins at 9am, and most shops don’t open until 10 or 11.

I especially love Paris on a Sunday morning, when you seem to have the whole city to yourself! Nobody is out at this time, no shops are open, no cars on the road. Just you and the city (if you are up, it’s because you weren’t partying until 3am last night)! This past Monday, I got to see morning Paris in “action” on a work/week day…it was interesting, to be sure. I had to be at work for a 7:30am shift, requiring me to take the 6:30am train. Walking to the station a little before 6:30, the only other people I saw in the dark were street sweepers and delivery men. On the train, even in this vast city of commute and commerce, there were people, but no activity. The train was relatively silent, and occupied almost entirely by nodding heads. I literally watched people walk onto the train, sit down, and be asleep before the train had left the platform! Paris really isn’t a “morning person,” though it is lovely and charming in the morning.

While it may be enjoyable in the morning, Paris becomes truly magical only at night! As I said, if one looks at the city you can see how it is so enchanting in the evenings! Andrew and I had the opportunity to really explore this place at night during Shannon’s visit from Russia. Andrew was able to get us into a nighttime bike tour of Paris because he currently works as a mechanic for the tour company. We had a marvelous time, and enjoyed the thrill of the wind in our faces as we took in Paris at its most glorious time of day!

Pictures can tell a story wonderfully, so I’ll just leave you with some. Our bike tour ended with a one hour boat ride on the Seine, offering the perfect opportunity to see the city all lit up! I thought it strange that Andrew and I hadn’t really experienced nighttime Paris much since we’ve been here, until I realized that it’s only just now started getting dark at a “normal” hour (9:30pm). All summer long it’s stayed light until 10:30-11!! I quite like the nighttime look of the city, however, and can’t wait to see more!

Some images from our boat tour on the Seine. Seeing all these beautiful sights from the river really offers the perfect perspective, as the river seems to add an additional depth and illumination!

Still takes my breath away every time!

An artistic shot of the Notre Dame for you. The up-lighting makes it seem even more majestic!

Detail from part of the Louvre Palace. We road through here during the evening bike tour, and liked the ambiance so much we revisited the site this past week!

When we came through the Louvre courtyard during our bike tour, we were met by two powerful sensations: one was the incredible glowing, golden color that the Louvre takes on at night! The other was the somber yet beautiful music of a lone cello player, drifting into the night.

We had a great time with Shannon! Goodbye sister, til we meet again!

Parce que c’est comme ça!

I'm a collector. Ever since I was young, I've collected things. Dolls, rocks, used stamps, keychains, cheap sets of 10 beaded bracelets from Claire's that I used to occasionally wear to school...all at once...on the same arm up to my elbow! As an adult my tastes have (thankfully) become a bit more refined. I now collect teacups, and I have a special place in my heart and soul for old books. I love used things; things that have a history and have been cherished and worn.

Living in Paris has given me the opportunity to collect all sorts of things. The first things I started to collect were doorways. I don't mean just any old regular doorways, either. I mean regal, colorful, curiously-carved doorways that just beckon you to walk through them. I'm constantly saying to Andrew as we walk through the streets of the city "Look at that door! WOW!" Sometimes I take pictures, but I more just like to notice and appreciate them.

From my experience working at Disneyland Paris, I have collected accents. That's something I've been doing for a while, but I'm getting rather good at it. Perhaps too good, in fact, because it has now become a habit. When I speak to a French guest at Disneyland, I speak to them the same way that another French person would, using the appropriate phrases, inflections, and accents. I try to not just speak the language with some word-for-word translation from English, but rather to speak as I've heard it spoken by the native people. When I meet Italian guests, my voice adopts a certain flair and personality that I've learned from even the youngest speakers of this breed. Italians, man, they know how to talk! I hardly know ten phrases in their language, but even with only these I've learned that with Italians that the way you say what you want to say is much more important than how many words you're able to say. With the Spanish I have a field-day. It's TERRIBLE, but how can I help it? I would say that 90% of the Spanish guests I've talked to speak in exactly the same manner, all with such an enthusiasm and certain spark in their eyes, yet talking very quickly and smoothly. The minute they hear Cinderella speak Spanish they shout "SHE SPEAKS SPANISH!!!!" and start pouring forth such a multitude of phrases while excitedly nudging their children, asking for "kisses! kisses!" as I'm trying to just get a word in with the poor kid and avoid as many often slobbery, face-painted kisses as possible. I've taken to speaking to Spanish kids the same way their mothers speak to them, really accentuating my vowels and questions...

"HOla, PrincessAA!!!!!! Como estAS?????? Como te llAmas? PAUla?? HOla, PAUla!!"

I also attempt to construct my phrases as quickly as possible, which starts to fry your brain after a while. Once I had 40 straight minutes of Spanish guests, with the exception of one French and one English family. When I got to the French and English, I actually had forgotten how to speak their languages! I stood there for a moment with a "Eeeuu" (French) or "uuuh" (English) on my lips, a couple faulty starts at conversation (kept starting with "como") and finally was able to get out a simple phrase, giving them the opportunity to talk while I recupperated, became myself once again, and racked my brain for words in the two languages I spoke and understood the most anyway!

I love the French language! It is so beautiful, but it is also very funny. One of my favorite pasttimes is collecting French phrases, and there are so many! Obviously, the language is a very complex construction of phrases, but I am speaking specifically of phrases which characterize the Parisian French. Phrases that give them away the same way that the use of the words "like," "totally," or "awesome" tend to give us Californians away, how we picture all New Yorkers saying "honey" in reference to every other being on the planet, while Southerners use the endearing "honey-chil(d)" or "darlin'". Basically, I'm talking about those mostly true stereotypes of language. Allow me to share some of my favorites...

• Parce que c’est comme ça! -- Literally "Because it's like that!" ("that's the way it is!") This fabulous phrase was actually told to me by an American. I hadn't really noticed it before, but the very next day it was used by one of my French friends at work in the perfectly stereotypical context! My American friend used this phrase because he had learned it from the French. "Parce que c’est comme ça" can be used in a few ways. Firstly, it's considered a satisfactory explanation for when there is no real explanation. Secondly, it can be an answer to a question that you don't actually want to answer (i.e. because you're too lazy), or when you think that the asker is not worth answering to. Thirdly, it can be used when you actually don't know what to say. My American friend learned to use this phrase when French people would ask, for instance, why the photolocation line was now closed? The actual answer is that there has been a character up there for 8 hours that day, that the times were clearly printed on the available literature for that day, and if the guest hadn't found some point during the day with that available knowledge and information, that was their fault. But of course, they KNOW that. So, instead, "Parce que c’est comme ça!" My French friend used it when trying to explain to me the difference between the phrases "C'est bon" and "C'est bien", both of which mean "It's good", but have completely different usages and contexts. I didn't feel that her explanation was making sense, so I would give her actual situations I had been in where I needed to use the phrase "it's good," so that she could tell me which to use. Well, I gave her different situations, one where I was having someone help me with my wig, I would have to say "c'est bon". BUT, if someone would help me with my dress, I have to say "c'est bien." How is that consistent!!?!?!? It's the same action taking place, just in reference to different parts of the body!! When I pointed this out to my friend, and asked why it was like that, you know what she said! "Parce que c’est comme ça!" I like that phrase!
  
• Bah OUI, hun?! -- "uh, YEAH?!" (You know this one in English, the answer to a very obvious, sarcastic, or dumb situation/question) French people LOVE this one. And the best part is, they don't even realize it!!! The best part of this phrase is the accent/pronunciation that comes with it. I wish I could show you so you could hear just how hilarious it sounds! When I use this phrase, I really adopt the accent, and continue speaking with it until I have to stop from laughing so hard. I usually use this one when a French person hears me speak their language, and asks (stupidly) "you speak French??" "Bah OUI, hun!?!" Like yeah, you French person, you just HEARD me speaking French! They are so stunned, so caught off guard, that an American (*gasp*) could possibly not only speak French, but speak it with a good accent, that this is often the first question out of their mouth. Sometimes they even ask me "you are French??" and just for the fun of it, I still respond "Bah OUI, hun!?" Which reminds me, there's also the negative usage of this phrase. When I say it that sarcastically, it's like saying "obviously NOT!" Last week I was eating lunch with some French friends, and a girl who I didn't really know actually got upset at me for using this phrase with my accent, although I was totally joking, and said "Okee, you KNOW zee Frunch not e-use zees phraze like zat!!!" And you know what I said?? Yup, you guessed it. The best part was, I got one of my French guy friends at the table into the conversation, and he sided with ME!! hahaah!! Bah OUI, hun!?!!? That's rich.
  
• C'est pas grave! -- Literally "It's not grave/serious" in a context of "it's not the end of the world, so stop your over-reacting you high-strung moron!" Okay, so maybe that last part was a little exaggerated. After all, no one has ever told me the specific meaning of this phrase, but I've often observed that it is used as a response to someone's exaggerated/unmerrited reaction or concern. French people use this one all the time. I find it especially at Disneyland. One day, I might have a costume that is a little too short, but "c'est pas grave!" Or perhaps my wig that day is a little whacky -- "c'est pas grave" (also, it means that they can fix it, so stop freaking out!) I just think it's a really nice and cute phrase that is used to calm people down and put them in their place. Funny considered that the French can really get up-in-arms about certain very stupid situations. But what am I even saying, I am perhaps the most dramatic person I know! That's probably why I like this phrase so much!
• Super! -- Can have the same meaning it does in our language, but usually is used as a more extreme form of the word "really." Andrew and I both have noticed and love this one! It's just plain funny the way that "Super!" is used in the language, but I think more so because we hardly use this word at all in the English language. I have a very sweet French friend named Elodie at work. She was the first French person at Disney who I really became friends with. She always makes me speak French with her, unless there are other English-speakers around. She seems to have taken a certain pride and joy in my ability to speak her language, because if another French person overhears me speaking, she will tell them proudly "elle parle SUPER bien le français!" (literally "she speaks REALLY well the French!") Hearing the word like this always brings a smile to my face! The word can also stand alone, for instance if you were to propose a favorable situation or outing, a French person may respond "Super!" or even (if you're lucky) "Super-cool!" This phrase seems a conglomeration of what would be the Californian-English equivalent of the words "awesome" "really" "totally" and "seriously" all put together. It's funny to me then, I think, because the above words aren't always interchangeable, whereas in French there's one word that means them all!
  

So, that was our language lesson of the day. Just something I've been thinking about and that makes me love this place all the more! :-) We love and miss you all, and wish you all were here! But, c'est pas grave, parce que c’est comme ça! If you could be here though, it would be Super!! Bah OUI, hun!?!?