Henri Ze Hippo

I recently (via Henri) started up a new blog about the traveling adventures of Henri Ze Hippo, a blue stuffed hippo I "discovered" on a lily pad in my fish pond.

Henri "told me" he likes to travel, and so with the help of my friends, he will be traveling the world and participating in the adventures of my friends. (Now that I think about it maybe his theme song should be "Travel The World" by Superbus!)

Henri started his adventures in Florida with Jeremy and I, learning to surf. He is currently on a motorcyle in the French Alps with Nico. To follow his adventures, visit his blog Henri's Adventures.

Who knows what Henri will discover and write about on his adventures!

How to get fingerprinted in France...

This is just a little story about me applying for the Oregon bar while in France. Note to all those who try...be aware and do it WAAAY in advance! (aka not the week leading up to exams).

One of the many crazy and paranoid requirements of the bar application (other than Oregon requiring 11, yes, you read right, 11 character and fitness statements -- those 11 people are relatively well defined as well, aka current and 5 pas employers + 5 personal witnesses of which at least 2 must be lawyers and no more than one a law professor and not your family or spouse) is that you be finger printed.

Great.

Can't they just call Vermont? Vermont has my prints for when I volunteered to read to kids at a nearby school...so again...fingerprints? grrr

I went to the police station yesterday to get fingerprinted. Logical place to go right? Took 10 minutes to get to the part where they said they could do it but to come back tomorrow because their fingerprint guy is only in on wednesdays. Ok, no problem!!

Here's how those 10 minutes went:
Me: Hello, I am applying for the bar exam in the United States and I need my fingerprints taken.
Them: What?
Me: I need my fingerprints taken for the bar exam in the United States.
Them: I dont understand
Me: My fingerprints (I pull out the form provided courtesy of the FBI)
Them: Yes, I understand that but I dont understand why.
Me: Its a requirement for the application to the bar (aka barreau)
Them: I dont understand
Me: one of the documents you need to submit to apply for the bar is a copy of your fingerprints
Them: I dont understand what you mean
....
Me: I am applying to be an American lawyer
Them: OH!!!!!! Ok, no problem, let me check.
It kind of felt like one of those situations where you had to find the magic word, and apparently "barreau + america" wan't it but "laywer + america"...Bingo!

Went back today around 1pm. Should have known better...the police station is closed at 1pm. These cops have to eat! Guess you can't get robbed at lunch time and expect help. I had an appointment elsewhere later that afternoon, and rushed back before they potentially closed at 5pm. You never know, and I was being cautious...the sign said open until 19h (aka 7pm for us western folks) but...it also said 8h - 19h which would imply that they were open during lunch time which they clearly were not.

So...make it back just before 5, go through the whole rigamarole again and then this guy in a pink rugby shirt comes out, pulls me outside like he has to tell me something no one else can hear, and explains that he can't fingerprint me. He is the fingerprint guy but he can't do it. Apparently the Nanterre Prefecture (again curses against that prefecture) ripped them a new one last time they did it, and so without the prefecture's express consent...its a no go. GREAT. He says "I'd really like to help, but short of you giving me a reason to put you in garde a vue..." (aka short of arresting you) there was nothing he could do.

Great.

Now I just have to wait for a call back from the people at the embassy who take your fingerprints to see when I can get that done. Either that or call the Oregon Bar Examiners people and have them try to contact the Nantere Prefecture (HA!) and explain why I need this done and thus get permission for my police to fingerprintme without arresting me. Not holding my breath.

Luckily, my fingerprints do not have to accompany the rest of my file...I just need to include a note explaining myself.

Moral of the story is...unless you go to the embassy, the only way to get fingerprinted is the criminal way.

War sirens

I recently (aka monday) started my 2 month internship at a lawfirm in Paris, and Wednesday was once again reminded that things were once very different in this country than in my own. Now I know what you're thinking..."you're in France silly, of course things are different!" But really, when you get down to it, things are not really all that different. People still dress the same (a little more fashion conscious perhaps), they interact in the same ways, work is more or less the same (if you exclude those random phrases of formality they use here), and other than the fact that I am sitting in a French law office researching French legal issues and writing memoranda in French (and in English) I could just as well be doing the same thing in the states.

The same thing that is until noon Wednesday morning. It just so happens that at that time, every first Wednesday of the month, they test the war sirens (also known as civil defense sirens, air raid sirens, tsunami/tornado sirens, outdoor warning sirens, or even doomsday sirens). Yes, I am sure they are not police, ambulance, or fire sirens, and no they are not school bells. I have heard them before in Puteaux, but hearing them again in Paris yesterday morning reminded me of how strange that is. Every month, since before World War II, they test the sirens to make sure they still work.

No one seems surprised by this. Nothing changes, there is no "stop, drop, and roll" activity going on, no "duck and cover" or any other "save yourself from the bomb" kind of drill. It is just a monthly testing of the sirens to make sure they are still in proper working order.

This is when you realize that you are living in a country that didn't just fight in World War II (or in the first one for that matter) but lived it. Yes, I know we all learned this in school, and that everyone knows that the actual fighting took place on French soil among others, but it still feels like history, not something that they still -- to this day -- feel and thus continue to test the sirens just in case.

Here is a link (in French) about the national alarm system: http://www.interieur.gouv.fr/sections/a_votre_service/votre_securite/en-dehors-du-domicile/sirenes/view

Just some food for thought.

Todays unfortunate adventure

Today is day 3 in a week that can only be described as exam hell. 5 days 5 tests each 3 hours long (plus the extra hour granted to us poor foreigners). By any testing standard it is brutal since classes ended last wednesday and we were given little time to study.



However this testing period has been particularly trying as last sunday (a week before exams) I was "fortunate" enough to come down with what turns out to have been a nasty case of strep throat. I went from being fine Saturday evening to a feverish, lung-hacking coughing, painful sore throat state of mess. Attempts to attend class monday (in the same condition plus a complete loss of voice) were thwarted by our loving secretary who quite rightly told me to go home. Three days later things seemed to be getting better but also progressively worse and sooff to the french "generaliste" doctor I go...the doctor who promptly informed me that my system was exhausted and my vocal chords shot. Medicine and bed rest it is...and absolutely no talking for a couple days. Fine by me, I need to study. Friday was the first day I got in a productive day of studying, and thus the scramble to learn 5 subjects in 3 days began.



So here we are again, day 3 (after that little digression) and I am off to school with my overnight bag packed for two days because our darling train system has decided to participate in the National Day of Strikes. Who the blazes gave the FRENCH a National day for striking when they do it all the time anyway?!?!? (how's that for the use of an interrobang) So...since the trains start their strike tonight and end friday morning and I still have an exam thursday and friday...I get to squat at a friend's.



Morning starts normally, I get up to finish the studying that hadn't been completed by 3am, get ready for the day, and head out the door. Phone call. Crap...that is NOT a good sign. What's the deal? Oh, just that the train tracks broke and no more trains out to Cergy since no trains are arriving from inside Paris. Time to try the suburb trains leaving from Saint Lazare. MASSIVE crowds at Saint Lazare...lots of angry, yelling, and pushing people. There is even some banging on the plexiglass windows to the "guichets" behind which the agents were most likely hiding. We see the train heading to Cergy is scheduled to leave in a couple minutes at the other end of the station...we'll never make it...and we didnt. The train doors were nearly slammed shut in our faces so close was our defeat.



Great. Exam now starts in half an hour...another friend was on the train when it stopped. SHE is stuck between two stations and after 45 minutes is forced off the train and told they will have to walk to the station on the train tracks. The station in the opposite direction from where she needs to go. This is NOT the way to start the day when you have an exam and cannot simply go home and crawl back under the covers.



The Saint Lazare guy is telling us to go back to La Defense, that there are trains at La Defense. I told him I don't believe him, that every time I get stuck in this situation (this is the third time this year I have heard that line) the people at La Defense say "go to Saint Lazare, there are trains at Saint Lazare" and like a fool you go to Saint Lazare where the helpful people say "there are no trains here, you must go to La Defense, there are trains at La Defense". (As I write this and as you read this please please be imagining like I am the smug little union train man with a heavy French accent calmly telling people "zere are no trains eere"). Anyway...I refused to go anywhere until this man got confirmation that "zere were indeed trains" at La Defense. Luckily I wasn't the only person who so cheekily informed him that we were tired of their shenanigans.



Several of us decide that instead of fighting our way back through the throng of people to get to the train going to La Defense we would hop on the train nearby that was going part of the way toward Cergy and then switch at a station later on. Our friend has made it out of the tunnels underneath Paris and is trying to find a way to get to La Defense to catch a train. The fastest way is to take the 8 then the 1 all the way to La Defense.



We manage to call a friend in class and explain to the professor that due to circumstances WAY beyond our control we will be late. Some of us will be VERY late. The exam has now started. Our train leaves, going in the right direction now...our friend calls again: the line 1 is closed because too many people are on it. Bloody hell. We tell her to go back to Saint Lazare and try to take a train to Cergy or to La Defense so she can take a train to Cergy from there. Trying to calm down and refocus in the train, put some of the information back in our heads. It is now 10 am and we are 30 minutes late.



Thank god for the foreigners in class who need extra time...our presence means it will be easier for the students who arrived late to make up the time lost in the train scramble. Does this mean I lose part of my extra time? Who knows for now.



We arrive in class at 10:15. A whole 45 minutes late. Two other students lucky enough to catch the train we missed arrived 25 minutes before. The one asked to treck through the tunnels is still trying to get here. Test time. The professor is nice, and has granted us all the time we needed (including the 45 minutes I lost). The secretaries have been helpful and offered to sit so the professor can get back to work. The last student arrives at noon, 30 minutes before the scheduled end of the exam. The professor is nice and arranges with the secretary to allow her to have the time needed to complete the exam.



Today's test is now over...time to study for tomorrow's. We are all squatting at Cergy tonight, no one wants to tempt fate with the trains again today.

French appeals court examines virginity lie

A court decision to annul a Muslim couple's marriage because the bride lied about being a virgin discriminates against women and should be overturned, state prosecutors argued Monday.

This was in the papers a while ago, but I still found it interesting. Since then I do believe the marriage was annulled. http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/24971969/

Apparently in some marriages, virginity can still be considered a pre-requisite and thus be annulled on the grounds of a breach of contract:

"But in treating the case as a breach of contract, the ruling was decried by critics who said it undermined decades of progress in women's rights. Marriage, they said, was reduced to the status of a commercial transaction in which women could be discarded by husbands claiming to have discovered hidden defects in them."

There are days when I disagree with how France treats the separation of church and state, and how far they take it, but here I believe the government got too involved in something that, despite their claims to the contrary, is essentially an annullment based on religious beliefs.

Follow the bouncing ball

Today is Saturday, and every saturday morning I have the great pleasure of going into class for the 6th day in a row and studying 6 hours of accounting. This particular morning things were going well. I got up on time, left on time, caught the train on time, arrived on time, all without rushing. What made today different was what I saw while leaving the train station this morning on my way to class.

I saw this little brownish ball rolling/bouncing down the side of the street going the same direction as me. Normally this would be no big deal, but there was no one behind me and no one chasing after this ball. Hence, no apparent source for the ball. The area I was walking in is underneath the "centre commercial" and is where all the busses drop off their passengers. So here, in the shade rolling/bouncing up the street is this funny brown ball with no owner. These are my initial thoughts.

Then, as I'm staring at this rolling/bouncing ball I realize it is maintaining its momentum but not necessarily going in a straight line, or one logical to a rolling/bouncing ball. It is then that I realize that it is not in fact a rolling/bouncing ball, but a really fat young mouse running really fast and trying to stay as near the curb and hence out of sight as possible while running for cover. He was so fat he looked round, neither head nor tail were visible, contributing to this furry round ball appearance, and because he wasn't rolling straight and bouncing off to the side like a ball would be when it hit something it was just funny enough to make me laugh. This poor fat little mouse was running for cover from the dumpsters he'd been hanging around and was dodging the little pebbles in his way (hence the bouncing effect) then "rolling" under a leaf propped up against the curb. This fat little guy even managed to bounce up onto the curb before rolling away into the shadow and disappearing.

It was a good way to start the morning.

Back in France and back to strange rooster men...

So, here I am beginning my second and last year in France. I arrived Tuesday morning and have had 18 hours of class since thursday morning. Yuck. That's not the point of this post though. This evening, after 6 grueling but interesting hours of corporate law I returned home after stopping off at the grocery store to pick up some dinner and wine. I arrived home, turned on the computer, fully intending to watch a movie or some Bewitched while enjoying some good food and drink. The water was just starting to boil when Gretchen called. For those of you who don't know her, Gretchen is one of the two students from VLS who came to Paris this year and will be taking the Master 1 classes like I did last year.

Anyway...Gretchen called to see if I wanted to get together this evening for dinner. I said I'd be right there (which from where I live to where she is means more like see you in an hour), turned off the stove (wouldn't do to boil a pan dry, burn one of Nico's pans and leave the gas burning for several hours) and out the door I went. The usual train delays later (forgetting not for the first time today that it is saturday and thus trains are not as frequent) and I am at the pre-arranged metro stop and stepping out of the metro. As I step out I notice a homeless-looking, disheveled man with a crazy gleam in his eye intently walk toward a man half snoozing on a chair in the station. He walks right up to the man, leans over and crows loudly in his ear like a rooster!

What was going on?!?! For a moment I thought I didn't see/hear this correctly and that there must have been a rooster on this guy. But no, this guy was too thin (not overly), carrying nothing bulky, and I know rooster calls too well to think it was a real one. (Its been a long tiring week and I am not yet accustomed to the random weird people in the metro again.) The rooster man walks away from the semi-comatose man in the chair (he didn't seem to react much to the rooster crowing in his ear) and down the station toward another person sitting in a chair waiting for a train. He repeats his rooster call at the next person, and then the next, never saying a word, making any gestures or in any other way indicating how crazy he must have been. He never laughed, just got up in someone's face and crowed!

A part of me wanted to stay and watch to see what this strange rooster man did, but a larger part of me wanted to go meet up with my friends and to avoid drawing the attention of the rooster man.

So, next time you're in Paris near the Saint Ambroise station, keep an eye out for the crazy rooster man and bien venu a Paris!!!