Playgrounds and Parakeets

Blog post double header today - here is the first post of (hopefully) two, provided that the little one (well, actually, now our big one!) stays napping.

On that note: I was refering to our toddler son as the "little one" on the blog, but now he has competition in the form of our littlest man, who is already just over one week old!  Ideas for blog pseudonyms for both boys are welcome!

In any case, I have been meaning to post about the playgrounds for a while now and just have not gotten around to it.  Playgrounds are everywhere here, though some of them consist only of a single slide or swingset nestled beside an RER stop.  We are lucky to have at least 5 playgrounds within walking distance here, set between the apartment buildings in the neighborhood.  Our neighborhood was built in the 1970s in response to the massive influx of immigrants to the Paris region, many of them Algerians who settled in France after Algerian independence.  The apartment buildings were clearly built hastily to accommodate the swelling population, and they are definitely not the gorgeous Art Deco buildings of Paris.  Instead, they are squat concrete rectangles with zero embellishments or personality.  The plus, though, is that in the spaces between buildings, small parks have emerged, with greenery and playgrounds in between nearly every apartment complex.  These parks are maintained by the city and open to all, and are generally in pretty good condition.  While the park below is actually in Paris, it gives you a good idea of the size of playgrounds here (this would be considered large-ish):

What cracks me up about these parks (and the French culture in general) is how incredibly rules-oriented and safety-conscious they are.  Posted in every playground is a list of rules (and a long list at that).  The playing surface is typically made of shock-absorbent rubber.  Even funnier than the rules are the individual plaques that adorn each piece of playground equipment:

Each piece of equipment has a designated age range - both a minimum and a maximum age.  And kids are aware of this, too.  A couple of weeks ago I was supervising the little one as he (gasp!) played on a structure suitable for kids age 4 and up.  A little boy no older than 5 came up to me and, with a worried look on his face, told me that the little guy should not be playing on this piece of equipment, because he could fall and hurt himself.  I thanked the little boy and told him that it was ok, that I was there to watch him, and that this is how he would learn what he was comfortable with.  Clearly, the little boy had never heard this particular brand of logic, as he just stared at me, puzzled. 

Now, the above is NOT meant to imply that French parents are all overprotective or that the kids will grow up not knowing how to take calculated risks.  There is actually a lot of nice logic to this layout.  Parents can allow their kids some freedom on the age-appropriate equipment with little chance of injury.  Kids can play independently without their parents hovering over them.  This is often the case, as many parents spend their playground time sitting on the park benches that ring the playground, while the kids run around as they please.  It is totally different than our playground experiences with toddlers in Portland, where parents were almost always integrally involved as their kids explored the park.  I see pros and cons to both extremes, yet it is interesting to note the prevalent attitude in each locale.

If you have read this far, you are probably wondering where the parakeets tie in.  There is a link, I promise.  When my mother was visiting last month, she came in from playing with the little one and told L that she thought she had seen a lime green parakeet in a tree.  It snows here, which is hardly the ideal environment for these birds, so we assumed she had seen something different.  A few days later, though, our neighbor asked me if I had seen the parakeets yet.  Parakeets?  Yes, he told me, there is a whole flock of them that live here, out in the wild.  No one knows if they were initially just a couple of released pets or if they came from elsewhere as stowaways, but they were here.  And ever since then I have been scouring the parks for them, to no avail.  But last week, when I was walking the dogs through the nearest park early in the morning after a mostly sleepless night full of newborn diaper changes, I heard one, then two, then lots of parakeets chattering.  I looked up to see a flock of two dozen parakeets, some lime green, some sage green.  Two dozen!  So they do exist.  I will try to take a picture for next time.

Ok, on to post number two.  Stay tuned!

- E

"Stuff"

At work yesterday morning, I got a phone call from the logistics company handling the delivery of our furniture and household goods.  After an additional week's delay, the ship carrying all of our stuff finally docked at Le Havre.  Shortly after clearing customs, possibly on Tuesday, our empty-ish apartment will all of a sudden be full of furniture, boxes, games, kitchen utensils, and the like.

And, although I will be REALLY happy to sleep on a real bed, a small part of me is sort of sad that our stuff is arriving.  Sure, we eat dinner sitting on the hardwood floor (or on the air mattress).  We have been using a box of Pampers as a dinner table.  As I sit here in the living room of our sunny apartment (in the one chair we purchased so L would have somewhere to sit), the only other things in the room are dog crates, a stroller, our grocery cart, and a couple of the little one's toys.  It almost feels big, this 660 square foot space we now call home.  I try to imagine our stuff fitting in here and it gives me a minor panic attack.

I will be happy to see our stuff; because really, the vast majority of it is not junk.  We have fantastic cookware, knives, and place settings.  We have an awesome loveseat that I can only guess was originally from the 1970s, whose curvy back and armrests have been refinished in red suede.  We have a dreamy mattress set and lots of toys for the little man.  We got rid of a ton of stuff in anticipation of our move, and tried hard to only keep the stuff we really cared about... but now that it's been 3 months since I have seen any of it, I can barely remember what is in some of the boxes.

So here is my top ten list of things I will be very, very happy to see:
1.  My bike!!!  Time to work off the extra baguettes by bike commuting to work.  No more waiting for busses and trains!
2.  Knives. We bought 3 crappy Ikea knives for less than 3 euros.  Given their performance so far, we overpaid.
3.  Burr grinder and 4. Stovetop espresso maker. Instant coffee may be better in Europe than in the States, but it's still instant coffee.
5.  My winter coat!  'Nuff said.
6.  Our bed.  Again, after several months on an air mattress... 'nuff said.
7. 
8.
9.
10.

... I guess this proves my earlier point; I can't even come up with ten items right now.

What the hell is in all of those boxes???

Stay tuned Tuesday to find out...

-E

New Place

Lazy Saturday morning in Bures: it's raining, I'm (finally) getting some laundry done in the hotel laundry room (€7 for 1 load means I don't want to do this too often), making a grocery list for this afternoon, and finally have a moment to upload some photos of the new place. We don't move in for two more weeks but I can't resist sharing the "before" photo of the kitchen, which is by far the worst room in the apartment.

Those of you who know us well know how much we like to cook. We will definitely need to perform some kitchen updates to make that possible. For starters, we need a fridge, stove, and oven. Oh, and a countertop. What you see in the photo is what you get: a double sink (sweet!) and some cabinets. On the plus side, this means that we get to customize our kitchen a little bit. There are several large superstores here that sell relatively cheap appliances (goodbye, stainless; hellooooo, cheap white fridge!) with free installation. There is also a French version of craigslist (called "leboncoin"), but given the heft of most major appliances and the lack of vehicle, it just makes more sense to get these items new. Plus, I really don't want to install large appliances on a power grid that I don't understand.

The rest of the apartment is considerably better. Below are the living room and bedrooms:

One peculiarity is that windows in France don't tend to have screens. On the first floor with both two-legged and four-legged children, I don't see that working too well during the warm weather months. Fortunately, we have a good 6 months before we need to worry about that.

The apartment also has a toilet room (typically separate from the bathtub/shower and sink in French apartments) and a bathroom (tub, sink, and washer/dryer hookups). Both of these rooms are tiled floor-to-ceiling in kitschy pink tile. It's the type of thing that you just have to embrace. Decorating ideas are welcome - and, on the bright side, it will be easy to keep clean.

Unlike many apartments that open right up onto the sidewalk, this apartment also has a nice, grassy courtyard, is 2 minutes (walking) to the bakery, 8 minutes to the train, and 15 minutes to the grocery store and library. I have no idea what the schools are like, but we have a year and a half to figure that out (kindergarten starts at age 3 here). In the meantime this will be a convenient home base from which to explore the area, with easy access to Paris (about 20 minutes by train) and to a great outdoor recreation area with bike paths and hiking (about 25 minutes by train).

Because we may want to travel both with animals and bikes, I was curious to see what the rules were for local travel. I have seen several dogs (and bikes) on the train (including a full size labradoodle on someone's lap in downtown Paris at 11pm). It turns out that on the Paris metro system, no dogs are allowed, but on the RER trains (that pass through the heart of Paris), leashed dogs are welcome. You must, however, purchase each dog a "reduced fare ticket", same as a child. Bikes are allowed during off-peak hours. Awesome on both counts!

That's it for the apartment.  We also get a basement storage room and garage (for bikes and strollers) which will be incredibly helpful as we cram into 660 square feet.  Obviously it will be nice to get our furniture, kitchen accessories, and extra clothes, skis, and bikes - but oddly enough I don't really miss anything that's packed away.  As much as we pared down (viciously!) before leaving, I have a feeling that once our container arrives, we'll have the urge to pare down our stuff even more.  Perhaps I will get to be as familiar to the Goodwill collection guys (or the equivalent) here as I was to the Goodwill staff in Portland!

As far as plans for the rest of the weekend, I am feeling the need to just curl up and do absolutely nothing at all.  I'm sure part of it is the weather, and part of it is that I miss my wife and son terribly (listening to Christmas-themed Vinyl Cafe podcasts is probably not helping, either).  Two weeks is a long time to go without seeing your loves, especially when one is pregnant and one is just a wee one: a lot happens in 14 days.  I feel like the little one will have grown two inches, and that L's belly will have grown so much.  Nothing like a little absence to make you remember how much you have to be grateful for.

- E

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

From Bures to the Marché de Noël

At breakfast this morning I learned about the Christmas markets that are set up all over Paris during this time of year.  The largest of the bunch is on the Champs Elysées - 170 temporary vendor chalets are set up along both sides of the boulevard, along with carousels, a small ice skating rink, kids' roller coasters, and a "museum" boasting 200 animated exotic animals.  Needless to say I skipped the last attraction, but I did decide to head into the city to check out the market.

While L is most definitely the photographer in the family, I did bring along our small point-and-shoot camera to give all of you a sense of where I'm living now (Bures), along with a few photos from the market.  Below is my temporary apartment (top floor, right side).  It's incredibly well set up, with a few luxuries (electric towel-warming rack!) that I know we won't have in our apartment.

Résidhome Bures sur Yvette

 
From here, it's a 10 minute walk through the woods into the village of Bures, where I catch the RER-B line into Paris.

Chemin de la Fontaine Saint Matthieu

RER-B station, Bures-sur-Yvette

From the Bures station, it's about 30 minutes to the center of Paris.  There is an extensive metro network through the city, but from many of the city center stations it's just as easy to walk.  And since walking builds up an appetite, I decided to stop along the street and get a snack: another sandwich!  I know that at some point these amazing little bundles of meat and bread will lose their appeal - but until then, I remain amazed at how inexpensive and delicious they are.  And they're everywhere!  Today's selection came with butter and not mayonnaise, but no matter: it was still delectable.  The scenery at lunch wasn't bad, either.

Sandwich!  Nom nom nom...

On to the market: today was gray and cloudy, and I have a feeling that the place feels a lot more magical after dark when all of the Christmas lights are lit, but nonetheless it was nice to walk around, people-watch, and check out the food and wares for sale at the various booths.

Eiffel Tower shaped lollipops

There were typical street-fair foods (cotton candy, candy apples, crepes, waffles, candy) and typical street-fair stuff to buy (scarves, jewelry, cheap toys, anything and everything with "Paris" written on it).  Lots of french fries and hot dogs, but also onion soup, tartiflette (a potato, bacon, and cheese casserole), roasted chestnuts, and even raw oyster bars set up among the booths (don't worry, Mom, I steered clear of the raw oysters).  My favorite booths held incredible wheels of cheese, cured meats and sausages, and other salty delights - although at this point I was still full from my sandwich and chose only to partake of the free samples.  I did, however, give in and try the vin chaud (hot wine).  Spiced with cinnamon and orange slices, it was absolutely delicious!

Raw oysters with fresh lemon served at the open-air market

 

More meat and cheese!  Nom nom nom!

My vin chaud.  Yep, the tree has been sprayed with fake snow for dramatic effect.

 
When L and the little one arrive, it will be fun to head back up here with them and take a carousel ride, maybe try out the skating rink, or ride the ferris wheel.  I'm sure that the market will continue to get more and more crowded as Christmas approaches, but since we will not have any of our stuff by Christmas (it will still be in a container arriving via the Atlantic), it might be nice to see so much holiday kitsch.

Tomorrow also marks my first real day of work (finally!), which is both exciting and bittersweet.  We waited a long time before my work permit and our visas were finalized, and it was incredible to have so many unhurried days with the little one.  However, we can't both be stay at home moms, and I am looking forward to starting a challenging job with an incredible team.  I figure that with only 660 square feet or so to maintain, we can't possibly spend our weekends cleaning the house, which means we should have plenty of time to explore our new city...

- E

Temporary Wheels!

Yesterday was eventful: visited some apartments, set up a bank account, and picked up my rental car, which my company has so graciously provided for 4 weeks as we get settled.  The car is a Renault Twingo, manual transmission, and tiny and zippy enough to race through the narrow streets that lead to my temporary apartment in Bures-sur-Yvette.  Driving here feels much more like a sport than a leisure activity: sharp turns, roundabouts, narrow streets and single-lane bridges abound.  Fortunately, my boss had enough foresight to also provide me with a GPS unit; without it, I truly would not be able to find my way out of Bures.

First things first: apartment hunting!  I've been told that the rental market is tight right now, and that's no joke.  Out of 6 appointments booked on Tuesday, 3 apartments were rented by Thursday, which left 3 more to see.  Another one was rented Friday morning, when I had a Friday afternoon appointment.  Thus, I only got to visit 2 of the original 6 apartments.  I may be able to visit two more on Monday evening, but at last check on the realtor's website, they aren't listed, so I'm not quite sure if they are still available.  The good news, though, is that we may have found a place.  The first apartment I visited on Friday was a surprisingly nice find.  It's small by American standards (660 square feet), but seems about average for 3-room units in this area, which range from ~500 to ~750 square feet.  Sunny windows, wood floors, and floor-to-ceiling kitschy pink tile in the bathroom.  The real bonus, though, is that it comes with both a cave (basement storage room) and a box extérieur (garage).  Holy storage, batman!  And no lugging a stroller or bikes up and down the stairs!

The way apartment rentals work here is that if you like a place, you submit a dossier to the listing realtor.  Your dossier includes bank and employment information, as in France there are strict limits on how much you can spend on rent (most places use 33% of your take-home income; some will allow 38%).  Our dossier has both some strong points (I work for a well-known and respected large company), and some weak points (I am new to France, no rental history, and am a new hire).  We should hear back by Monday whether we were accepted as renters.  There were several other dossiers submitted by other interested parties, so I honestly don't know what our chances are.  We'll just have to wait and see.

Whether we end up with this apartment or some other one, there is one inconvenience: the vast majority of apartments here come with unequipped kitchens.  No fridge, no stove, no other appliances, and, in this case, no countertops.  There is a nice double sink and lots of cabinets for storage, but that's it.  On one hand, this means that we have a little freedom to organize the small kitchen in a way that suits us.  However, the prospect of immediately having to purchase major appliances is also a little daunting.

Now, on to the car.  Having wheels means that I can run some errands, which is a great relief because there are no grocery stores in Bures.  There is a fantastic bakery (more on this later), a butcher, and a fruit stand, but when your grocery list also includes an iron, hangers, and deodorant, there's just nowhere to go.  France has their own version of Fred Meyer (for Pacific NW peeps; Super Target for the rest of you) - a superstore (or hypermarché) called Cora.  It's completely overwhelming, even for an American.  Cora has everything - major appliances and small appliances, TV and electronics, housewares, auto parts, a home improvement section, a massive clothing store, jewelry, a lingerie section that might make Hugh Hefner blush, a full grocery store, a travel agency, and many other departments that I missed altogether.  They have a huge selection of wine, fresh fruit and vegetables, and even a fishmonger.  Their fish section (which sits right in the middle of the store) consists of massive ice-covered tables with fillets, steaks, and whole fish on display.  In the middle of the table, a massive shark head and shark tail were artistically displayed so that the head appeared to be breaking through the ice, about to leap dolphin-style through the air.  The shark also had a lemon in its mouth.  In the middle of the superstore.  Right across from the pineapples. 

Clearly, it's easy to get totally overwhelmed in a place like this, so I spent a good 30 minutes wandering around and getting my bearings.  I'm glad I took my time watching the other shoppers, too, or I may have missed out on an important difference between US and and French grocery stores.  Here, after you bag your fresh produce, you must get each bag weighed and affixed with a price label before heading to the checkout.  Fortunately, I caught on to this before loading my purchases onto the conveyor belt. 

Groceries successfully purchased!  I headed back to the apartment and then walked into Bures (10 minutes through the woods) and went into the local bakery.  The baguettes looked enticing, but I was pretty hungry and ordered a ham sandwich (€3,70) instead.  Freshly made, it was heavenly in its simplicity: a fresh baguette, sliced open, with 2 thin slices of ham, a little lettuce and tomato, and the BEST homemade mayonnaise I have ever tasted.  Creamy, and thick, with a little Dijon to brighten the flavor, I swooned over this stuff.  I plan on being a regular customer for as long as I stay in this temporary apartment, for sure.

I also got to Skype with L and the little one last night.  At first, the little guy wasn't quite sure what to think of mommy being in the computer screen, but after a few minutes we exchanged waves, high fives, and fist-pounds.  So much fun.  I can't wait for them to be here in a week and a half!  Between now and then, though, there's lots to do: work starts on Monday, and the apartment rental is far from finalized.  Here's hoping to a productive week.

- E