Random French Observations and Apartment Update

After a couple days of hiatus, I have lots of pent-up ideas to share about life in France - some very random, and others related to the progress on our apartment.  Let's start with the randoms, shall we?  There are so many downright strange things about daily life in France that I'm sure that given long enough, I could probably write an entire book on the subject.  Here's an assortment from my last 48 hours.


1. Rollerblades.  They're popular here.  I have probably seen 30 people on rollerblades since this weekend, which is more than I saw in 5 years in Portland!  The funniest part about it is that some of these rollerbladers have been in the supermarket.  Not shoppers, but employees: at first I thought it was a fluke, but then I visited a different grocery store chain in a different mall and saw the same thing.  The front-end staff (the ones coordinating the check-out lines) wear rollerblades to they can zip back and forth, re-stocking baskets, making change, talking on their walkie talkies, etc.  It's awesome!  I'm sure the smaller grocery stores don't require rollerbladers at the entrance, but at the larger grocery stores it seems to be a trend.  I shall research this further (because my current n=2) and get back to you!

2.  Grocery stores in general.  Where should I start?  First, the meat department.  Meat here confuses me.  I don't recognize most of the cuts, which is hard enough - but the type of meat is what's most surprising.  In addition to beef, veal, lamb, pork, chicken, and the typical american standards, there are large sections devoted to rabbit, duck, and horse.  No thanks on the horse - but I guess it's convenient to be able to get duck or rabbit without placing a special order.  Second, when you check out, the cashiers give you these tiny "stamps" (for those of you who remember the Subway club card, remember the little stamps you got?).  I asked what they were good for, and the cashier told me they were good for "scissors or knives".  I'm not exactly sure how these stamps help you obtain scissors or knives, since the amount they give you appears to be random, and there's no card to stick them on.  I guess I'll find out eventually.  Last but not least, the "prepared salads" refrigerated case.  It's huge.  And filled with really odd food combinations: tabbouleh with raisins and "oriental chicken"; carrots with celery, ham, egg, and mayo; tuna with mashed potatoes (yes, really).  I was starving yesterday and grabbed what seemed to be fairly normal (pasta salad), but when I got home and took a closer look, I found pasta with mayo and surimi - the fake "krab" used in some sushi.  HUGE, thumb-sized pieces of surimi.  Fishy pasta salad - no thanks. 

3.  The morning weather report.  The news channel that plays during breakfast at the hotel delivers the weather report to a soundtrack.  Yesterday's selection was Rick Astley's "Never gonna give you up" (circa 1987).

4. Elevator floors: this isn't so much weird as genius.  The USA should adopt this policy as well, instead of labeling floors as Lobby or Mezzanine.  The ground floor is "0".  Floors going up are labled with positive integers (1, 2, 3).  Floors going down (basement) are labeled with negative integers (-1, -2, -3).  So simple!

5. Coed Bathrooms. My workplace is HUGE - not a mom and pop type of operation.  Hundreds of employees work there... and the bathrooms are coed.  I don't mind, really - but when you've grown up in a world where public bathrooms are never ever ever ever open to members of the opposite sex, it's startling to open the door to your stall and see a dude washing his hands.  Granted, the individual stalls have doors and walls that extend floor-to-ceiling (nice touch), but it's still a coed bathroom.

6. Doctor's visits.  As part of my employment, I have to go to the company doctor for regular checkups.  I had my first visit today, which included both a physical exam and height, weight, etc.  For my weight, the doctor instructed me to step behind a partition, strip down to my underwear, and step on the scale.  He was very clear that my weight was very private - I could just call the number out to him and I could even lie if I wanted to.  I assumed he told me to just call out the number because I had stripped down to my underwear - but no.  He then asked me to hop up onto the exam table to do my physical exam - still in my underwear (no robe).  Take-home message?  Your weight is very, very private - but your selection of undergarments is not.  Oh, and before I can set foot in the company gym, even after an exam and complete medical and family history, I need to have an EKG done.  You can never be too careful, I suppose.  Good thing I carry a copy of my EKG in my purse (thanks, previous job!).

That's enough random French-ness for one day.  On to the apartment!

Our dossier was accepted by the owner, so we can now sign papers for our 660 square foot apartment!  It's actually awesome - small, but with 2 sunny bedrooms, a basement storage room/wine cellar (yes, really), and a garage for bikes and strollers.  Walking, it's 10 minutes from the train, and 15 minutes from the grocery store.  It has no kitchen appliances, but it has excellent tiled walls (pink and brown) in the bathroom and kitchen, respectively.  We take possession on December 15, but since I'll be out of town for a work meeting that week we'll move in the next weekend.  It will likely still be 4 weeks before any of our stuff arrives, so we'll be spending Christmas on our air mattresses.  I guess it's a good excuse to spend Christmas wandering around Paris.

It's been really fun writing this blog - at first I thought that posting regularly would become a chore, but the reality is that I really enjoy writing these dispatches from France.  Hope you all are enjoying reading them as much as I'm enjoying writing them!


Cheers,


E