22 October 2013
It’s amazing how frequently I find myself on the train and today is just one more example. This week and next the majority of France is on vacation, and I am no exception. Originally, when I was still working in Chalons, I had plans to go visit Nancy, France, then take a swing up into Germany, followed by a pit stop in Amsterdam, and then back to Paris before heading back to Chalons. Well, given the numerous changes of the last 10 days or so, I decided to abandon a good part of my vacation plans since, for the most part, I had not addressed three very key points: housing, activities, or transportation. I had a few cities picked out, but that’s as far as I got before the excitement of Paris got the better of me and Mariage Frères came calling.
I did, however, get everything taken care of for a trip to Nancy, which is really the city that I was most excited to visit. I’m sure post of you have never heard of Nancy, but for me it seems super exciting. As somebody who studied architectural history and French for four years, you would think that French architecture really gets my blood pumping. In fact, I think French architecture good, but I don’t think it’s the best in the world. For the most part I don’t think it’s incredible because it’s so conservative and by the books. Once the population had accepted one style, POOF, that was it. And there was little changing. EXCEPT toward the end of the nineteenth century when a movement called the Art Nouveau came about which broke with tradition, and which I love.
This style, which is well known in Paris as the style of the sort of scary Métro entrances by Hector Guimard, had a massive following in Nancy, France. In fact, an entire “school” of Art Nouveau was located at Nancy and was appropriately called the École de Nancy. At the École de Nancy some of the best Art Nouveau artists of the time taught students and imbued in them the ideals of this style. Well, when I was a student at SciencesPo, taking a class on the politics of architecture (one of the highlights of my academic career thus far, actually), I gave a presentation on the Art Nouveau because I was so enthralled by it.
Rather than going on about all the details now, here are a few of the slides from my presentation that have some of the key points of the Art Nouveau. Unless otherwise noted, all of the photos were taken by me. (If you want to see more Art Nouveau be sure to check out my posts from 2011, particularly those that I wrote about Bruxelles and Antwerpen.)
Anyway, back to my life: this past week has been one of the most refreshing weeks that I can remember. It really has. I had no idea how exhausted, unhappy, depressed, and miserable I really was. (I’m actually not just saying this for affect - it’s true!) I know I keep writing this, but really: I owe so much to my amazing French host family for doing so much for me and for helping me so much over the past week. They’ve been wonderful and so kind to me.
Since I’ve arrived in Paris I haven’t done anything incredible (other than the fact that yes, I do live in Paris, which is pretty incredible in itself) but I’ve gone on numerous long walks, spent a few hours reading in the Tuileries gardens outside of the Louvre, and gone to see the Eiffel Tower every day. You know, average stuff. Just another day in the life…
On Friday I really didn’t do much, but it felt so great. I got so much sleep and I actually slept really well. Unlike my bed in Chalons which made the most ungodly sounds when I so much as had a heavy thought, I close my eyes in Paris and don’t hear anything until I finally decide it’s time to open them in the morning. I went for a nice long walk on Friday and had grand plans to go visit a handful of the American ex-pat buildings and hangouts to see if they had any jobs listed that would appeal to me. Well after spending a bit too much time with the dame de fer (no, I’m not talking about Britian’s Iron Lady, Margaret Thatcher, I mean the Eiffel Tower) I decided that it was really getting near afternoon rest time in the Tuileries Gardens and that I would have to visit the American Cathedral another day. Instead I went to W.H. Smith and Company, a really good British bookstore on the rue de Rivoli, right next to the Tuileries and not far from the Place de la Concorde (where Marie Antoinette lost her cake-loving head). I spent a long time in W.H. Smith looking at books, reading a few books, reading magazines, and visiting the second floor food store which offers all sorts of American and British delights that are difficult to find in France. (I love comparing the prices of things here: the small jar of Skippy Peanut Butter, about 4 inches tall, was a mere 7 Euros 60 centimes - more than ten bucks!)
Among the books I read were the newly published “behind the scenes” book on Downton Abbey (season 4 looks really good, I really wish I could figure out how to watch it on my computer since it’s already out here in France) and a very funny book called Paris versus New York: A Tally of Two Cities by Vahram Muratyan. Using very few words Muratyan summed up so much of what I love about the French compared to the States. Here are two of my favorite comparisons:
Expresso (French) seated on the terrace. Americano (American) keep walking.
This one I think is too good and soo accurate!
I also had a chance to read the latest WoodenBoat Magazine at W.H. Smith and was impressed to read the article written by Douglass Brooks, a fellow Trinity graduate (wayyyy before me), about his time in Japan working with Japanese boatbuilders to built traditional boats using traditional techniques.
I first met Douglass two summers ago when I was contacted about a man who was looking at the Museum’s model of Maddy Sue because he was apparently going to be leading the restoration project of this iconic Mount Desert Island boat. I had been the person to suggest Maddy Sue as a project for the museum’s incredible model builder, Duane, because, at the time, Maddy Sue was sitting in a boathouse on Cranberry Island and I really wasn’t sure that she was ever going to see the light of day again. She had recently been surveyed for the Historic American Engineering Survey as a boat that embodies the style of Mount Desert in the 1930s (I think I may have even suggested that they use Maddy Sue for the survey, but I don’t really remember), and I was able to get a copy of the lines before they had been thoroughly finished and sent them to Duane who built a really lovely model. Well, a few years later Maddy Sue was featured in WoodenBoat’s Save a Classic section thanks to maritime historian Maynard Bray, who even mentioned the great model at the museum. Well luckily Maddy Sue has been saved, I met Douglass (who actually wrote an article about the restoration for a Japanese magazine - would that I could actually read it!), and here in Paris, in a British bookstore, I found Douglass’ article in a Maine magazine about his time in Japan this summer. What a small world. And what a massive tangent that was!
Maddy Sue pre-renovation after she made it to the mainland.
Photo by Maynard Bray
Model under construction for the Great Harbor Maritime Museum
Maddy Sue post restoration being launched.
Photo by Douglass Brooks
On Saturday I went to the American Library (to get there I had to go right under the Eiffel Tower, shucks…) and tried to check out a book with the card that I had saved since my time here in 2011. Back then I was given the card for free as part of my Trinity study abroad program. Well guess what? When I went to check a book out my account had expired. Well 50 Euros later (plus a 60 Euro refundable deposit) I had my card activated and had a new book to read. Since I had really planned to be working on lessons, grad school apps, and other things I (stupidly) only brought one book with me. While I enjoyed My Three Fathers: And the Elegant Deceits of my Mother, Susan Mary Alsop, it didn’t take long to finish it in a land where I had no wifi and not much to do. While my last book spent a great deal of time in both Paris and Northeast Harbor, my two favorite spots in earth, my current one is Paris, I Love you but you’re Bringing me Down by Rosecrans Baldwin, who also has connections to Mount Desert Island - Seal Harbor, specifically. Small world, right? So far it’s absolutely hysterical. He writes just like I think, and not to toot my own horn, but it reminds me so much of my own blog. He chronicles his time trying to figure out how to be Parisian and all of the funny things that happen to him as he tries to start his life in the City of Lights. I was sitting in the Tuileries Gardens by the fountain, as the ducks ate their own poop and as some old man tooted his remote controlled speedboat around the fountain, and was laughing out loud. It was lol-worthy, really.
I also got my bank account dealt with on Saturday which was not as easy as I’d hoped it would be. I just figured since I was staying with the same bank that they could just change my address. Nope. I had to set up an entirely new account which was, in itself, sort of funny. As the woman was looking at my passport she looked up at me and said in French “Are you a king?” I looked behind me to see if somebody had come into her office unbeknownst to me and, seeing nobody looked back at her with a blank face. She said it again “Are you a king?” “Moi? Roi?” I said. “Oui monsieur, est ce que vous êtes roi?” “No, madame, I’m just an American, and even though we have be egos, we don’t normally see ourselves as royalty.” Confused she said, “Well why does your passport say (Mylastname) III?” “Because that’s my name. I am the third. It’s sort of American to name your children exactly after you and then they become junior, the third, etc.” Thoroughly confused she said, “Que c’est bizarre, ça. Only royalty has numbers in their name, and things for the royal family didn’t end well in France.” Well for the rest of the meeting every time she had to type my name she would snicker a little when she had to do the III.
Because I’m living with a host family she needed their information as well. When she saw my host family’s last name, she snickered again. It includes a du which means of. Like the Duke of whatever town, my host mother’s last name is du H-C. Today it’s not really a big deal, but it was certainly a sign of nobility a few centuries ago. She looked at my host mother’s last name, at my last name, looked up at me and said, “Monsieur, vous êtes bien placés dans le quartier.” (Sir, you two are well placed in this part of the city.) For those who don’t know, the 16th is an area like the Upper East Side of New York City and she was making a reference to our last names being sort of old fashioned and snobby and the fact that we live in a snobby area. I could only laugh a little in her presence, but when I got home and told my host mother she found the story very funny.
On Sunday I met up with Ann Lawson again and we had a nice Sunday stroll along the Quai de la Seine and enjoyed the view of the river and caught up. Since I knew that Cécile was coming to the apartment later in the day for tea, we didn’t have any concrete plans, but we eventually ended up for afternoon tea at Mariage Frères. Words can’t express how much I like it. The tea options are actually overwhelming but, as before, it was delicious.
Then I got home and what did I do? Had more tea with Cécile and my host mother and caught up with them. Of course we talked about the entire Chalons situation and we all had the same conclusion: it was necessary for me to leave there. I agree, and couldn’t be happier than I did.
On Monday I had one mission that I really wanted to do. I needed to get a cellphone. When I was in Chalons I had planned to order a phone from a company called Free Mobile which sold you a sim card and a phone and then you paid a whopping two Euros per month. In order to do that I needed to have my bank card (because in France they don’t use credit cards like we do) and the code to use it. Since that took so long to get I never ended up getting the phone in Chalons, and then, after setting up a new account in Paris I didn’t want to wait for the new card before having a phone. I was just going to do something. So I went to Orange, the biggest cellphone provider in France and put my name on the list. Well I don’t know what the man did when he came to my name on his computer, but somehow he deleted me and some old lady got called forward. Well to Hell with that! I left and went to the SFR store down the street (SFR is another major phone provider) walked right in, had no line, and in 20 minutes had a phone, sim card, and phone number. It’s not 2 euros a month, but if I end up coming back in the Spring I can sign up with Free for the 2 euro plan using the same phone.
Dumbphone and Smartphone with the Chateau du Taillan
Well now that I’m reconnected to the world I’m already getting texts from French friends and I already have plans for when I get back to Paris (yay for being social!). Until I get back however, I will be enjoying Nancy and Art Nouveau.
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