Yes, we love Paris indeed!
Thursday, December 8, 2011
Sunday, September 4, 2011
What we learned on our Paris adventure.
A year ago our Paris adventure was just beginning. If it were not for the daily reminders and influences that remain in our lives, I would swear that it was all just a dream, a blur in my mind; it went far too quickly. We came home with fresh knowledge, new thoughts, opinions, having learnt so much from living away from our safe happy lives in Calgary. Some of these are Paris specific, others just from the fact from having gone away and lived new experiences.
Small rat like dogs can indeed be cute.
Frenchman can get away with wearing red, orange and yellow pants – most of them at least.
If our baguette is hot when we buy it, always buy two as one will have been inhaled by the 3 Tai girls by the time we get home, crumbs on the front of out clothes as evidence.
I love not driving and not having a car.
Wearing a scarf all the time does actually serve a purpose and is not just for looking fashionable (yes the dreaded courant d’air/draft!)
There is always something to do in Paris.
I still have my passion for photography.
Parisian pharmacists can help you with any problem.
Thank god for worldwide Apple Stores.
Yes many French women are beautiful indeed and Paris definitely is the capital of fashion.
Fresh market ingredients make our meals much tastier.
I should not keep Nutella in the house. Whole jars can quickly disappear.
Paris is not a good place to be on a diet!
We like living in an apartment and would certainly be able to survive in a smaller space.
I should always carry my camera and a notebook with me.
It is ok to be feminine.
We can make new friends.
We would be able to survive with less.
It did not take long for the girls to speak better French than I do.
Some Parisians do pick up after their dogs. Many still do not.
It is so important to always be learning and be curious.
You can get to know Parisians; you just have to make a bigger effort and be patient.
Melissa can always make me laugh so hard until tears are running down my face.
Nathalie and Gabrielle look fabulous dressed like young Parisian girls.
10 days with Jackie is not nearly enough.
Even in a large city like Paris one can get a sense of community and belonging.
When I asked Gabrielle what she learned in Paris her response was “that I have a big family! And that I can ride a scooter really well.”
The French are interested in someone who is different and not the Parisian mold.
I can ride a bike in a skirt and heels (don’t have to be in full athletic gear.)
We all have a sense of adventure and the travel bug.
We would be able to live somewhere other than Calgary.
We are all adaptable –the girls probably more so than I.
We adore our Paris family.
“I’m not as shy as I thought I was and I can make friends easily” was Nathalie’s big revelation about herself during this year. And she certainly loved her independence.
Living across the hallway from my mother works. We so enjoyed having her as part of our every day lives. Yes we did not do all the museum visits and activities we envisioned but mealtimes, walks, the marche, panaches on the terrasse, café sur le balcon, spending our every day lives together was indeed lovely. Our year would not have been possible or the same without her.
We don’t want to live away from George.
I don’t need to fit in.
Nathalie and Gabrielle certainly rise to the occasion. Bravo les filles!
Life in Canada is easy.
Family is everything.
I can write
Alone time is important.
I can be independent.
Change is good.
Paris IS magical.
How lucky we are.
And would we do it again? In a heartbeat, tout de suite, bien sur!
Small rat like dogs can indeed be cute.
Frenchman can get away with wearing red, orange and yellow pants – most of them at least.
If our baguette is hot when we buy it, always buy two as one will have been inhaled by the 3 Tai girls by the time we get home, crumbs on the front of out clothes as evidence.
I love not driving and not having a car.
Wearing a scarf all the time does actually serve a purpose and is not just for looking fashionable (yes the dreaded courant d’air/draft!)
There is always something to do in Paris.
I still have my passion for photography.
Parisian pharmacists can help you with any problem.
Thank god for worldwide Apple Stores.
Yes many French women are beautiful indeed and Paris definitely is the capital of fashion.
Fresh market ingredients make our meals much tastier.
I should not keep Nutella in the house. Whole jars can quickly disappear.
Paris is not a good place to be on a diet!
We like living in an apartment and would certainly be able to survive in a smaller space.
I should always carry my camera and a notebook with me.
It is ok to be feminine.
We can make new friends.
We would be able to survive with less.
It did not take long for the girls to speak better French than I do.
Some Parisians do pick up after their dogs. Many still do not.
It is so important to always be learning and be curious.
You can get to know Parisians; you just have to make a bigger effort and be patient.
Melissa can always make me laugh so hard until tears are running down my face.
Nathalie and Gabrielle look fabulous dressed like young Parisian girls.
10 days with Jackie is not nearly enough.
Even in a large city like Paris one can get a sense of community and belonging.
When I asked Gabrielle what she learned in Paris her response was “that I have a big family! And that I can ride a scooter really well.”
The French are interested in someone who is different and not the Parisian mold.
I can ride a bike in a skirt and heels (don’t have to be in full athletic gear.)
We all have a sense of adventure and the travel bug.
We would be able to live somewhere other than Calgary.
We are all adaptable –the girls probably more so than I.
We adore our Paris family.
“I’m not as shy as I thought I was and I can make friends easily” was Nathalie’s big revelation about herself during this year. And she certainly loved her independence.
Living across the hallway from my mother works. We so enjoyed having her as part of our every day lives. Yes we did not do all the museum visits and activities we envisioned but mealtimes, walks, the marche, panaches on the terrasse, café sur le balcon, spending our every day lives together was indeed lovely. Our year would not have been possible or the same without her.
We don’t want to live away from George.
I don’t need to fit in.
Nathalie and Gabrielle certainly rise to the occasion. Bravo les filles!
Life in Canada is easy.
Family is everything.
I can write
Alone time is important.
I can be independent.
Change is good.
Paris IS magical.
How lucky we are.
And would we do it again? In a heartbeat, tout de suite, bien sur!
Tuesday, August 9, 2011
Taking Stock Part IV - Writing
Paris made us feel alive. The beauty, art, history, and constant activity. The girls and I loved to think about who walked before us in many parts of the city. Les rois, royalty, painters, sculptors, famous thinkers, scientists, and of course, famous authors. Yes Hemingway, but many others from different walks of life: Colette, Nancy Mitford, Edith Wharton, James Joyce, Camus, the list is endless, writers coming to Paris to work on their craft with the fortunate ones, succeeding.
I try not to make New Year’s resolutions as I have never been good at keeping them. I made one this year: to write, as much as possible. To take advantage of the time I had in Paris. In February my Travel/Memoir writing class began. This is what I was searching for: my writing life was born. Inspiration was all around me; women from all walks of life, from different countries with amazing stories to tell. Stories of heartache, loss, and survival. Challenges that come into our lives and force us to fight, persevere and build character. Women with feelings and thoughts that needed to be put down on paper, some as catharsis, others to share their deep emotional experiences. Our common bond was that we all wanted to write about these experiences, whether happy, sad or angry. We all wanted to work hard, get our thoughts and emotions down on paper, properly. Do it right and make our writing worthy of our experiences. I came home from my first class aching to get going. I was stirred by these lives and by our instructor, who was energetic, motivating, knowledgeable and passionate. I ached to find a rhythm, to get into a schedule and to get creating. I could sense my groove was somewhere in the room, I only had to reach out and grab it. I just had to get writing.
The key was that in Paris, I had the time. While the girls were in school, I wrote, I went to classes, I read, I discovered and I wrote some more. I got into a groove that I am trying desperately to maintain. Now back in Calgary, I'm working on finalizing some of my Paris essays and hope to soon find a home for them. I can say that my writing goal was surpassed in Paris. What an opportunity I was given. Indeed, this one can definitely be checked off the list. √.
I try not to make New Year’s resolutions as I have never been good at keeping them. I made one this year: to write, as much as possible. To take advantage of the time I had in Paris. In February my Travel/Memoir writing class began. This is what I was searching for: my writing life was born. Inspiration was all around me; women from all walks of life, from different countries with amazing stories to tell. Stories of heartache, loss, and survival. Challenges that come into our lives and force us to fight, persevere and build character. Women with feelings and thoughts that needed to be put down on paper, some as catharsis, others to share their deep emotional experiences. Our common bond was that we all wanted to write about these experiences, whether happy, sad or angry. We all wanted to work hard, get our thoughts and emotions down on paper, properly. Do it right and make our writing worthy of our experiences. I came home from my first class aching to get going. I was stirred by these lives and by our instructor, who was energetic, motivating, knowledgeable and passionate. I ached to find a rhythm, to get into a schedule and to get creating. I could sense my groove was somewhere in the room, I only had to reach out and grab it. I just had to get writing.
The key was that in Paris, I had the time. While the girls were in school, I wrote, I went to classes, I read, I discovered and I wrote some more. I got into a groove that I am trying desperately to maintain. Now back in Calgary, I'm working on finalizing some of my Paris essays and hope to soon find a home for them. I can say that my writing goal was surpassed in Paris. What an opportunity I was given. Indeed, this one can definitely be checked off the list. √.
Monday, August 8, 2011
Taking Stock Part III - Culture - A Paris Education
Years of history, world famous art, entertainment, architecture, literature, food, tradition, etiquette, fashion, celebrations, so much to be absorbed. Everywhere we went in Paris, we were always surrounded by new and different culture. This was certainly one of our objectives for our year in Paris, to take in as much as we can. To learn about French culture, to visit museums, and to nourish the girls' interest in all of this. And to make them want to go back and learn more. Below is a short essay I wrote after Gabrielle and I visited the Louvre. What an eye opening experience. Yes objective number 3 for our year in Paris definitely checked off our list. √
A Paris Education
“Maman, can we go to the Louvre next Wednesday?” asked my daughter Gabrielle.
Gabrielle was delighted to be in a Paris school that did not have classes on Wednesday. Her older sister was not as fortunate and had half a day of school on these days. This was our mother-daughter day to explore wonderful Paris together. But I was surprised by her Louvre request.
“What do you want to see at the Louvre, Gabrielle?” I asked.
“The statues of the Greek gods,” she answered
“Sounds good to me. We can go this Wednesday morning if you like.”
This was not a conversation I had ever expected to be having with my eight-year-old. I had brought my two daughters, from our home in Canada to Paris for a year. This was exactly one of the reasons we had come here, to offer the girls these kinds of opportunities and to make a diverse education available to them. I knew that both my girls had read the Percy Jackson series; actually they were rather obsessed with it. My eldest daughter, eleven-year-old Nathalie, had plowed through all five books, and even Gabrielle, who was young to be reading these books, was not far behind her sister. Greek gods it was.
Having a Parisian mother, with a solid accent and a strong bourgeois French nose, I had been coming to Paris my whole life with her, Madame Genevieve Cottin. When I was a child, journeys were made yearly and since then I had made frequent voyages to Paris by myself. When my father was with us in Paris we always went to the Louvre. Many childhood hours had been spent in those hallways and large exposition galleries and that certainly had been enough for me. These visits to the Louvre at a young age were always far too long and quickly became boring and painful. They did not have special activities or workshops for children then. You followed your parents around always spying the nearest bench to sit on and wait, again, uninterested. Although I regularly visited many museums, I had not been to the Louvre in years, not seeing the need for another visit. Now as a mother, after my initial surprise, I was pleased that my youngest had asked to go to the Louvre. A request I certainly could not refuse.
“Maman, we need to get a map of the museum to see exactly where the Greek god statues are. But I think they are in the Sully wing.” Gabrielle said as we entered the museum.
Her excitement was palpable. As soon as we entered the area with the Greek god statues, my lesson began.
“This is Pan, the god of Shepherds and Flocks.” Gabrielle walked right up to the sculpture in the first room.
“He is also known as Faunus in Roman mythology. You can tell it is him since he’s half man and half goat. Look at his hooves. And he has horns too. He was the son of Hermes and a nymph.”
I stood there looking at Pan for a few minutes, impressed that my young daughter could share this kind of knowledge with me. Gabrielle grabbed her camera off her belt and started snapping pictures of our first statue.
“Maman, quick, come and see this next one!” she yelled. “This one is Artemis, she’s the goddess of Hunting which is why she carries a bow and arrow.”
“What is her Roman name, Gabrielle?” I said intrigued.
“That’s easy, it’s Diana.” She said confidently, with a big smile.
I remembered bits of this from grade school, but I was surprised that Gabrielle already knew so much.
“Who is your favorite god, Gabrielle?” I asked.
“Probably Artemis, but she is a goddess, not a god. I like her because she belongs in the outdoors. Besides hunting, she is also the goddess of wilderness and wild animals.”
Of course, I should have known this as Gabrielle leads the way on family hikes in the Canadian Rockies at home, and runs down to the dock every morning when we are at the lake, to start minnow catching, activities we were putting on hold this year for their Paris education.
“Did you really learn all of this from Percy Jackson?” I wanted to know.
“Yeah, Percy runs into so many different gods.”
Hermes, Athena, Apollo, Poseidon and even his wife Amphitrite… my lesson went on and on. By the time I looked at my watch again, an hour and a half had passed. Who knew the Louvre could be so captivating? And who knew that I would be thanking one of my children for my renewed interest in the Louvre?
Gabrielle was particularly taken with the Venus de Milo.
“What do you think happened to her arms, maman?”
“Well, she is a very old statue, and many of them do not get discovered or preserved entirely. I think they found her that way. Let’s go and read the plaque and find out.”
After two solid hours of looking at statues, we both reached our limit. I had learned from my own childhood experiences here to leave while we were still smiling. On the Metro ride home, as Gabrielle was enthusiastically flipping through her new workbook on Greek Mythology, I thought about our morning and what I had learned. A torch had been passed. I had been learning from my children for years, but this was a different kind of raw knowledge, book learning. Instead of a one-way flow from me to my daughter, the tides had turned and I was going to be learning from her. I must have been sitting on the Metro with a big smile on my face. I was proud. My child was like a sponge, taking in everything around her, everything she was reading and she was sharing her knowledge. As a parent you occasionally have “ah ha” moments, when you understand that some of your parenting skills are working and some of your decisions have been the right ones. Sitting on the Metro in Paris that Wednesday afternoon, I had one of those moments and I had the Greek gods to thank for this.
The Louvre also became a new museum to me. I realized why my father used to bring us here so often. It was magical to see everything through your child’s eyes. Gabrielle’s enthusiasm and happiness were contagious. I knew we would soon be back.
I’m grateful for the amazing education and opportunity we were giving our children. Taking them away from everything they knew in Calgary had been painful. There had been tears during our first two months in Paris. They deeply missed their father, their dog, their friends and their every day lives. Whenever we had a grand moment, I would remind them we could be happy here and learn so much. It was going to be a brilliant year; we just had to open ourselves up to the idea. Whether eight, eleven or forty years old were going to gain a new perspective and live new experiences. And perhaps I was the one who had the most to learn.
Paris, Jan 2011
A Paris Education
“Maman, can we go to the Louvre next Wednesday?” asked my daughter Gabrielle.
Gabrielle was delighted to be in a Paris school that did not have classes on Wednesday. Her older sister was not as fortunate and had half a day of school on these days. This was our mother-daughter day to explore wonderful Paris together. But I was surprised by her Louvre request.
“What do you want to see at the Louvre, Gabrielle?” I asked.
“The statues of the Greek gods,” she answered
“Sounds good to me. We can go this Wednesday morning if you like.”
This was not a conversation I had ever expected to be having with my eight-year-old. I had brought my two daughters, from our home in Canada to Paris for a year. This was exactly one of the reasons we had come here, to offer the girls these kinds of opportunities and to make a diverse education available to them. I knew that both my girls had read the Percy Jackson series; actually they were rather obsessed with it. My eldest daughter, eleven-year-old Nathalie, had plowed through all five books, and even Gabrielle, who was young to be reading these books, was not far behind her sister. Greek gods it was.
Having a Parisian mother, with a solid accent and a strong bourgeois French nose, I had been coming to Paris my whole life with her, Madame Genevieve Cottin. When I was a child, journeys were made yearly and since then I had made frequent voyages to Paris by myself. When my father was with us in Paris we always went to the Louvre. Many childhood hours had been spent in those hallways and large exposition galleries and that certainly had been enough for me. These visits to the Louvre at a young age were always far too long and quickly became boring and painful. They did not have special activities or workshops for children then. You followed your parents around always spying the nearest bench to sit on and wait, again, uninterested. Although I regularly visited many museums, I had not been to the Louvre in years, not seeing the need for another visit. Now as a mother, after my initial surprise, I was pleased that my youngest had asked to go to the Louvre. A request I certainly could not refuse.
“Maman, we need to get a map of the museum to see exactly where the Greek god statues are. But I think they are in the Sully wing.” Gabrielle said as we entered the museum.
Her excitement was palpable. As soon as we entered the area with the Greek god statues, my lesson began.
“This is Pan, the god of Shepherds and Flocks.” Gabrielle walked right up to the sculpture in the first room.
“He is also known as Faunus in Roman mythology. You can tell it is him since he’s half man and half goat. Look at his hooves. And he has horns too. He was the son of Hermes and a nymph.”
I stood there looking at Pan for a few minutes, impressed that my young daughter could share this kind of knowledge with me. Gabrielle grabbed her camera off her belt and started snapping pictures of our first statue.
“Maman, quick, come and see this next one!” she yelled. “This one is Artemis, she’s the goddess of Hunting which is why she carries a bow and arrow.”
“What is her Roman name, Gabrielle?” I said intrigued.
“That’s easy, it’s Diana.” She said confidently, with a big smile.
I remembered bits of this from grade school, but I was surprised that Gabrielle already knew so much.
“Who is your favorite god, Gabrielle?” I asked.
“Probably Artemis, but she is a goddess, not a god. I like her because she belongs in the outdoors. Besides hunting, she is also the goddess of wilderness and wild animals.”
Of course, I should have known this as Gabrielle leads the way on family hikes in the Canadian Rockies at home, and runs down to the dock every morning when we are at the lake, to start minnow catching, activities we were putting on hold this year for their Paris education.
“Did you really learn all of this from Percy Jackson?” I wanted to know.
“Yeah, Percy runs into so many different gods.”
Hermes, Athena, Apollo, Poseidon and even his wife Amphitrite… my lesson went on and on. By the time I looked at my watch again, an hour and a half had passed. Who knew the Louvre could be so captivating? And who knew that I would be thanking one of my children for my renewed interest in the Louvre?
Gabrielle was particularly taken with the Venus de Milo.
“What do you think happened to her arms, maman?”
“Well, she is a very old statue, and many of them do not get discovered or preserved entirely. I think they found her that way. Let’s go and read the plaque and find out.”
After two solid hours of looking at statues, we both reached our limit. I had learned from my own childhood experiences here to leave while we were still smiling. On the Metro ride home, as Gabrielle was enthusiastically flipping through her new workbook on Greek Mythology, I thought about our morning and what I had learned. A torch had been passed. I had been learning from my children for years, but this was a different kind of raw knowledge, book learning. Instead of a one-way flow from me to my daughter, the tides had turned and I was going to be learning from her. I must have been sitting on the Metro with a big smile on my face. I was proud. My child was like a sponge, taking in everything around her, everything she was reading and she was sharing her knowledge. As a parent you occasionally have “ah ha” moments, when you understand that some of your parenting skills are working and some of your decisions have been the right ones. Sitting on the Metro in Paris that Wednesday afternoon, I had one of those moments and I had the Greek gods to thank for this.
The Louvre also became a new museum to me. I realized why my father used to bring us here so often. It was magical to see everything through your child’s eyes. Gabrielle’s enthusiasm and happiness were contagious. I knew we would soon be back.
I’m grateful for the amazing education and opportunity we were giving our children. Taking them away from everything they knew in Calgary had been painful. There had been tears during our first two months in Paris. They deeply missed their father, their dog, their friends and their every day lives. Whenever we had a grand moment, I would remind them we could be happy here and learn so much. It was going to be a brilliant year; we just had to open ourselves up to the idea. Whether eight, eleven or forty years old were going to gain a new perspective and live new experiences. And perhaps I was the one who had the most to learn.
Paris, Jan 2011
Sunday, July 24, 2011
Taking Stock - Part II - Zee Parisian Family
As I sat at my favorite spot at the kitchen table, full view of the gorgeous property out the back window, I was watching little cousins giggling as they peaked out from behind their hiding spots as their grande cousine Canadienne, Gabrielle was running across the yard searching for her little cousins in a joyful game of hide and go seek. Nathalie was snuggled up on the couch watching Bambi with 4-year-old Delphine, her arm cradled around her admiring petite cousine. It had taken a few weekends at my uncle Xavier’s country house, for my girls to feel this comfortable. But each time we saw our Parisian family, Nathalie and Gabrielle’s comfort levels grew exponentially.
We were fortunate to spend some wonderful family weekends at my uncle’s country house just outside of the big city during our Paris adventure. Some weekends it was just the three of us with my uncle and aunt. Other weekends, it was pure mayhem, with up to 24 of us, including 11 children, 7-years-old and younger. At the beginning it was tough for the girls to be around all these new family members. Yes they had met most of them before but last time they had been 7 and 4-years-old. Life changes quickly at these tender ages, so do personalities and comfort levels. This was certainly true for me as well. I could see that my girls were looking to me to see how maman felt, how maman fits in, how maman feels. Funny how my comfort level shot straight up with my children looking on; forced yes, but so glad for the big push.
Yes one of my biggest challenges in France has always been for me to feel completely comfortable with my Parisian family. As a child I would see my aunts and uncles and cousins perhaps several times every few years for a dinner or two. Not exactly enough time to develop bonds and relationships. My sister and I would be sitting at la table des enfants, a separate dining table for the children, our legs almost hitting our chins as we sat on miniature chairs. And being 5 years older than my eldest cousin did not help, we had very little in common. This year, these weekends at the country house, Christmas en famille, museum visits together, lunch, coffee dates, shopping, with a year to spend time with them, our relationships and my comfort level grew. My mother often talks about how important it is for future generations of our families to stay in contact over the expansive ocean that separates us. But this year I heard my reserved uncle Xavier, my mother’s brother, tell us how important this will be when they are no longer around. Moments like this only reinforce how important it was for us to spend time in France and really get to know les Demortreux and their ever-growing families.
Gabrielle playing Uno with Mathieu and Alban. Nathalie sitting at the big country dining table showing my cousin’s husband, Nicolas, how to use her iPad. Gabrielle playing badminton with Patrick, my eldest cousin Valerie’s husband. Nathalie happily helping Tante Simone make dinner. A week after we returned to Calgary, I received an e-mail from my cousine Laetitia. She signed off her message with a salutation I have never seen before from my French family, avec toute mon affection, with all my affection. I immediately realized that, yes, we were all feeling much more at ease with each other and were spending time together because we wanted to, not because we had to. Another success for Tai Girls: family bonds. Objective number two for our year, happily checked off the list. √
We were fortunate to spend some wonderful family weekends at my uncle’s country house just outside of the big city during our Paris adventure. Some weekends it was just the three of us with my uncle and aunt. Other weekends, it was pure mayhem, with up to 24 of us, including 11 children, 7-years-old and younger. At the beginning it was tough for the girls to be around all these new family members. Yes they had met most of them before but last time they had been 7 and 4-years-old. Life changes quickly at these tender ages, so do personalities and comfort levels. This was certainly true for me as well. I could see that my girls were looking to me to see how maman felt, how maman fits in, how maman feels. Funny how my comfort level shot straight up with my children looking on; forced yes, but so glad for the big push.
Yes one of my biggest challenges in France has always been for me to feel completely comfortable with my Parisian family. As a child I would see my aunts and uncles and cousins perhaps several times every few years for a dinner or two. Not exactly enough time to develop bonds and relationships. My sister and I would be sitting at la table des enfants, a separate dining table for the children, our legs almost hitting our chins as we sat on miniature chairs. And being 5 years older than my eldest cousin did not help, we had very little in common. This year, these weekends at the country house, Christmas en famille, museum visits together, lunch, coffee dates, shopping, with a year to spend time with them, our relationships and my comfort level grew. My mother often talks about how important it is for future generations of our families to stay in contact over the expansive ocean that separates us. But this year I heard my reserved uncle Xavier, my mother’s brother, tell us how important this will be when they are no longer around. Moments like this only reinforce how important it was for us to spend time in France and really get to know les Demortreux and their ever-growing families.
Gabrielle playing Uno with Mathieu and Alban. Nathalie sitting at the big country dining table showing my cousin’s husband, Nicolas, how to use her iPad. Gabrielle playing badminton with Patrick, my eldest cousin Valerie’s husband. Nathalie happily helping Tante Simone make dinner. A week after we returned to Calgary, I received an e-mail from my cousine Laetitia. She signed off her message with a salutation I have never seen before from my French family, avec toute mon affection, with all my affection. I immediately realized that, yes, we were all feeling much more at ease with each other and were spending time together because we wanted to, not because we had to. Another success for Tai Girls: family bonds. Objective number two for our year, happily checked off the list. √
Thursday, July 14, 2011
Taking Stock - Part 1
“There is never any ending to Paris, and the memory of each person who had lived in it differs from that of any other. Paris is always worth it, and you received in return for whatever you brought to it.”
Ernest Hemingway - A Moveable Feast
As I sit here at 5am on a Sunday morning, no longer able to sleep, still jet lagged, I wonder what the three Tai girls brought to Paris and what we received in return. What was our year all about? Going to Paris we certainly had goals in mind; what we wanted to accomplish and hoped to gain from this experience. Did we achieve these? Can we check our goals off our list? Now that we are back in Calgary, it is time to take stock of our year.
The year in Paris (and my blog) started with me sitting in a café after dropping Gabrielle off for her first day of school. The Frenchman beside me struck up a conversation and the second sentence out of his mouth was “what a lovely English accent you have." For a transplanted half Canadian half French woman, hoping to fit in, this was not the most encouraging way to commence the year. Luckily our French improved over the year, some of us faster than others.
It only took a month of school for Nathalie to start sounding like a Parisian adolescent, stylish mumbling included. Her accent is impeccable; any hint of the Canadian is completely gone. By October, she was correcting my French. By November she was rolling her eyes at me when I made mistakes, looking embarrassed in front of her new friends. I brought this on myself though, as this was one of our main goals for the girls, for them to speak French better than I do. I did not factor in the 11 year old attitude and the rolling of the eyes.
Gabrielle had higher to climb and more work to do. She did not disappoint. She was in special lunch time sessions with her teacher for students with French issues. Come December, Gabrielle was told she no longer needed to attend the lunch time sessions. By January, Gabrielle was correcting my French. Apparently I should have been attending these sessions with her. But a week before our departure back to Canada a French friend told me that he could almost not hear my accent when I spoke French. I did not question him any further, took this as a compliment and quickly changed the subject.
A few days later, with some good family friends and apparently speaking French with barely any accent, I made the dreaded “Kristian mistake.” Kristian is my younger brother. Years ago when he was 12-years-old and we were in Paris he commented to our French family about the peanut butter he liked back home because it did not have any “preservatives” in it. In French, "preservatifs" means condoms. Needless to say, our family was quite delighted to hear that Canadian peanut butter did not contain condoms. Yes, I made the dreaded “Kristian mistake” two days before leaving Paris. At least after a year of school in Paris the girls speak French better than I do. Apparently my French still needs some work.
The only French I wished we had left behind are the lovely schoolyard words the girls have learned and occasionally use –which I will not repeat here. These are some words that are better left at recess at their Parisian schools. Merde, this is not the kind of French I brought them to France for, goddammit!
I can proudly check off our list: French language skills (with some bonus words too). √
Next, getting to know zee intimidating Parisian relatives....
Ernest Hemingway - A Moveable Feast
As I sit here at 5am on a Sunday morning, no longer able to sleep, still jet lagged, I wonder what the three Tai girls brought to Paris and what we received in return. What was our year all about? Going to Paris we certainly had goals in mind; what we wanted to accomplish and hoped to gain from this experience. Did we achieve these? Can we check our goals off our list? Now that we are back in Calgary, it is time to take stock of our year.
The year in Paris (and my blog) started with me sitting in a café after dropping Gabrielle off for her first day of school. The Frenchman beside me struck up a conversation and the second sentence out of his mouth was “what a lovely English accent you have." For a transplanted half Canadian half French woman, hoping to fit in, this was not the most encouraging way to commence the year. Luckily our French improved over the year, some of us faster than others.
It only took a month of school for Nathalie to start sounding like a Parisian adolescent, stylish mumbling included. Her accent is impeccable; any hint of the Canadian is completely gone. By October, she was correcting my French. By November she was rolling her eyes at me when I made mistakes, looking embarrassed in front of her new friends. I brought this on myself though, as this was one of our main goals for the girls, for them to speak French better than I do. I did not factor in the 11 year old attitude and the rolling of the eyes.
Gabrielle had higher to climb and more work to do. She did not disappoint. She was in special lunch time sessions with her teacher for students with French issues. Come December, Gabrielle was told she no longer needed to attend the lunch time sessions. By January, Gabrielle was correcting my French. Apparently I should have been attending these sessions with her. But a week before our departure back to Canada a French friend told me that he could almost not hear my accent when I spoke French. I did not question him any further, took this as a compliment and quickly changed the subject.
A few days later, with some good family friends and apparently speaking French with barely any accent, I made the dreaded “Kristian mistake.” Kristian is my younger brother. Years ago when he was 12-years-old and we were in Paris he commented to our French family about the peanut butter he liked back home because it did not have any “preservatives” in it. In French, "preservatifs" means condoms. Needless to say, our family was quite delighted to hear that Canadian peanut butter did not contain condoms. Yes, I made the dreaded “Kristian mistake” two days before leaving Paris. At least after a year of school in Paris the girls speak French better than I do. Apparently my French still needs some work.
The only French I wished we had left behind are the lovely schoolyard words the girls have learned and occasionally use –which I will not repeat here. These are some words that are better left at recess at their Parisian schools. Merde, this is not the kind of French I brought them to France for, goddammit!
I can proudly check off our list: French language skills (with some bonus words too). √
Next, getting to know zee intimidating Parisian relatives....
Saturday, July 2, 2011
Ingrid's Top Ten Lists
TOP EIGHT THINGS I'M NOT GOING TO MISS ABOUT PARIS
I could not even come up with 10 here! That is a good thing!
8. Motorcycles driving on the sidewalks. You are a vehicle, not a pedestrian - get on the road!
7. Too many friggin' tourists most of the year. In some areas you really have to fight your way through the crowds.
6. The humidity. Winters chill you to the bone and the hot summer days are rather dreadful (yes it is +34 degrees C out as I write this.)
5. Expensive life, expensive everything!
4. "Kids at school asking me what the F word means." This one is from Gabrielle as I could not come up with enough of my own.
3. Racism. I don't know how many times I have heard this year that all the problems in France are caused by immigrants. And calling the man who owns the corner store "the little arab" and then saying that this is acceptable as it is part of the culture. Don't get my started on these.
2. Cigarette smoke, cigar smoke, 2nd hand smoke, smokers in general. Parents smoking around their children and pushing baby strollers with a cigarette in their hand.
1. And the number one thing I'm not going to miss about Paris....yes, all the dreaded, messy, smelly dog poo on the sidewalks and in the streets of this lovely city!
TOP TEN THINGS I'M GOING TO MISS ABOUT PARIS
- of course, these are, besides the obvious, like my wonderful French family & my new friends - it was difficult to stop at 10, there is so much we are going to miss!
10. Well dressed, good looking men, in nicely tailored, fitted suits. The men here know how to dress. And you never tire of getting an appreciative look from them as you walk on by.
9. The Metro - convenient & easy. And the metro rumbling under the apartment. Love the feeling & sound. Makes me feel alive!
8. Velib System. The pick up & drop off bike system is great and so convenient. After saying when I first arrived "I would never ride a bike in Paris," I did, and often. Even managed to do so in a skirt & heels!
7. Our tiny 50sq m apartment. Easy, intimate & low maintenance! And our fabulous balcony.
6. The girls' excellent schools. Walking to and from school. No driving/being a school bus for 10 months was lovely!
5. Dare I say it, but the French people! Their passion; lively discussions, encores at the theatre, not being afraid to express their opinions, and yes, often saying exactly what they are thinking. Funny how I did not appreciate this trait much while growing up with a French mother though.
4. The baguettes, les pains au chocolats, le fromage, the wine, all zee food! And importantly, le marche with my Apple Man! No saran wrapped food for a year was refreshing.
3. Weekends at the family country house. Relaxing, enjoyable, beautiful setting, fresh air and spending time with our loving French family. Seeing my girls chasing their little French cousins around the yard made this whole year worth it.
2. My Writing Group. Inspiration, motivation, helpful ideas and friendship.
1. And the number one thing I'm going to miss about Paris...how Paris makes me feel! I feel alive, free, adventurous, curious, impulsive, feminine, sexy, like anything is possible. There is always something new, something to do, always learning, discovering, about the city, about the people and about myself.
As Audrey Hepburn said in Sabrina,
"PARIS IS ALWAYS A GOOD IDEA"
I could not even come up with 10 here! That is a good thing!
8. Motorcycles driving on the sidewalks. You are a vehicle, not a pedestrian - get on the road!
7. Too many friggin' tourists most of the year. In some areas you really have to fight your way through the crowds.
6. The humidity. Winters chill you to the bone and the hot summer days are rather dreadful (yes it is +34 degrees C out as I write this.)
5. Expensive life, expensive everything!
4. "Kids at school asking me what the F word means." This one is from Gabrielle as I could not come up with enough of my own.
3. Racism. I don't know how many times I have heard this year that all the problems in France are caused by immigrants. And calling the man who owns the corner store "the little arab" and then saying that this is acceptable as it is part of the culture. Don't get my started on these.
2. Cigarette smoke, cigar smoke, 2nd hand smoke, smokers in general. Parents smoking around their children and pushing baby strollers with a cigarette in their hand.
1. And the number one thing I'm not going to miss about Paris....yes, all the dreaded, messy, smelly dog poo on the sidewalks and in the streets of this lovely city!
TOP TEN THINGS I'M GOING TO MISS ABOUT PARIS
- of course, these are, besides the obvious, like my wonderful French family & my new friends - it was difficult to stop at 10, there is so much we are going to miss!
10. Well dressed, good looking men, in nicely tailored, fitted suits. The men here know how to dress. And you never tire of getting an appreciative look from them as you walk on by.
9. The Metro - convenient & easy. And the metro rumbling under the apartment. Love the feeling & sound. Makes me feel alive!
8. Velib System. The pick up & drop off bike system is great and so convenient. After saying when I first arrived "I would never ride a bike in Paris," I did, and often. Even managed to do so in a skirt & heels!
7. Our tiny 50sq m apartment. Easy, intimate & low maintenance! And our fabulous balcony.
6. The girls' excellent schools. Walking to and from school. No driving/being a school bus for 10 months was lovely!
5. Dare I say it, but the French people! Their passion; lively discussions, encores at the theatre, not being afraid to express their opinions, and yes, often saying exactly what they are thinking. Funny how I did not appreciate this trait much while growing up with a French mother though.
4. The baguettes, les pains au chocolats, le fromage, the wine, all zee food! And importantly, le marche with my Apple Man! No saran wrapped food for a year was refreshing.
3. Weekends at the family country house. Relaxing, enjoyable, beautiful setting, fresh air and spending time with our loving French family. Seeing my girls chasing their little French cousins around the yard made this whole year worth it.
2. My Writing Group. Inspiration, motivation, helpful ideas and friendship.
1. And the number one thing I'm going to miss about Paris...how Paris makes me feel! I feel alive, free, adventurous, curious, impulsive, feminine, sexy, like anything is possible. There is always something new, something to do, always learning, discovering, about the city, about the people and about myself.
As Audrey Hepburn said in Sabrina,
"PARIS IS ALWAYS A GOOD IDEA"
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