The one random skyscraper in Paris...

Yes. The view from my apartment is beautiful, and the second thing you notice, after the Eiffel Tower, is a tall, dark skyscraper that is MANY stories taller than ANYTHING else in Paris. The Tour Montparnasse has become a tourist attraction and offers an amazing panoramic view of Paris (much like the Eiffel Tower) and has also been a source of criticism. At 210 meters (59 stories) it is the tallest skyscraper in France and at the time of its construction was the tallest in Europe.

Two years after its construction, the building of skyscrapers within the city limits of Paris was baned because it was deemed an eyesore and interrupted the view of the city. Skyscrapers did not fit the "theme" or "image" Paris wanted to keep for itself. As a result, most of the city's skyscrapers are outside city limits, notably around La Defense. So much the better I say! Skyscrapers would prevent me from seeing the tops of many of Paris' other famous monuments.

France's Long-Secret Library of Libido

So, I know this isn't something I've seen while here, but just thought that it was interesting that a country we (Americans) typically view as a very sexually open country had a "secret library" called L'Enfer.

I've included the link if you would like to read the article. Be aware, the title of the blog gives you faire warning for the contents of the article.

http://www.foxnews.com/story/0,2933,315367,00.html

This is still a far cry from the censorship activities practiced in the states. However, given what I have learned about the history of France this year, particularly the history of criminal law and how the severity of punishment fluctuated over time, it is not surprising that some form of censorship or another was practiced throughout the ages, particularly with a subject that has historically been "suspect" as far as a person's morality was concerned.

All the same, it was an interesting article, and could prove to be an interesting exhibit.

My train ride home today

Today's train ride home was relatively uneventful...mostly. As usual, when finished with my classes, I go to the station and catch the next train heading back to Paris. When I arrive at La Defense, unless I feel like walking, I change trains for the short one stop trip to my town. Today's trip was no different, and since it is a bit blustery today I chose to take the train rather than arrive home feeling a bit thrashed by the wind. I have two "train" options from La Defense home. I can either take the train, or the tram. Usually my decision is based on which leaves first since both arrive 2 minutes after they leave. Today was the train, and therein lies the decision that changed my normal trip home into something a little more interesting.

Paris is known for its colorful people. You will find them in subways, street corners, in parks, and in all major tourist attractions. I'm talking about the living statues and walking one-man-band kind of colorful people. Now generally I have the pleasure of listening the these musical talents in the metros, but today it was a train in the suburbs. Still nothing remarkable. There was a man with an accordion, fairly standard train/subway musical instrument, and then there was the other guy...

Imagine those fake plastic teeth that come with your Halloween costume. You know, the big teeth, lots of gums, a couple teeth missing. Those teeth. Make them real and imagine the person who has those teeth. Had he not taken part in the musical talent show he was probably still going to be noticed, even just briefly, because of these teeth. Now, give this man two pop cans. Two full, unopened pop cans. And when man #1 starts playing his accordion, imagine man #2 tapping the bottom of the two cans together to the beat of the music. Now, as if this weren't interesting enough, imagine him starting to not just sway but step and slide side to side to the rhythm. Add in a bit of a dip to the step-slide, continue with the can banging and don't forget to picture the teeth. It's kind of a funny image.

My apartment

Getting to my apartment requires exercise. You walk up a hill, down a street, and up many flights of stairs. However, the view at the top is quite worth the hike!

You can see many of the major Parisian monuments from my living room. Missing in this picture are the monuments further to the left like the Sacre Coeur. I will try to put up a better picture later on.

We aren't done decorating/setting up yet (yes it's been a couple months) but we're getting there! Just working on putting in light fixtures to avoid that "crack house" look of light bulbs hanging from wires in the ceiling. Pieces are starting to fit into place though, and we're pretty much settled in.

There are two bedrooms, a living room, kitchen, bathroom, and toilet room. Lots of closet space for storage in the hall. It's in a great spot for me, being just outside Paris but still not as far out as school. That way I can visit friends and get into town easily enough in the evenings, but still not have to spend an hour or more in the train to get to class (unless we're talking about days when the transportation system's on strike...more on that to come). The stove is teeny tiny, but it fits what it needs to fit! I'm still getting used to a gas stove though. Gas burners are one thing, but a gas stove...especially one that doesn't have temperature indicators on it is difficult to regulate!

The tiny oven makes cooking multiple things a science or a carefully choreographed event since there is only one rack and limited space...we're talking 16x16x16 inches. The images you see of the kitchen are the kitchen in its entirety. There is a double window in between (you see half of it) and thats all folks!

However, for the space and what I need on a regular basis, this kitchen is great. It's the right size for two people and holds eveything I need. We've even hosted a couple get-togethers of up to 20 people so the kitchen's good even for preparing food for that many people! Space was a bit cramped in the apartment in general, but hey...that's what gatherings among friends are for right?

The Laundromat

So...a couple weeks ago -- the 13th -- I went to go do laundry. I'd been here nearly a month, and it was about time I did some laundry. I gather up my stuff, stick it in a bag, get some detergent and walk down the stairs and up the street to the laundromat. When I get there, I see this guy sitting in a chair in the doorway. Now, if I had been in the States, this might not have been so surprising. But, in France this man looked TOTALLY out of place. This man, for all intents and purposes, looked like the typical overweight American redneck sitting on his couch, in his boxers, drinking a beer, smoking a cigarette, watching the football game. EXCEPT he was sitting in a laundromat just outside Paris. So, beer bellied redneck in boxers is sitting in the doorway, not about to move for the world, staring at the machines going round instead of at a football game. Fine. I walk in, put my stuff in the machines and sit down to wait.

The owner comes in, asks the man if his clothes are in the washing machine (hoping, I think that the answer is yes), and tells him he can't drink in the laundromat. So, since he's sitting in the doorway, he politely moves his can of beer to the outside of the doorway without leaving his seat. Time passes, the owner leaves, I'm writing letters, and the dryer next to me stops. The scantily clad Frenchman gets up pulls ALL his clothes, and I mean ALL his clothes out of the dryer and puts them on. Socks, shoes, pants, shirt, sweatshirt, jacket. Everything. Then he says goodbye to the other woman in the laundromat as if they were good friends, shakes my hand and leaves.

The other woman in the laundromat (I later learned her name is Sandra -- we bonded over this incident) looks at me and kind of shrugs like "that was strange but whatever" and I asked her if she knew him. "No. I've never seen him before." She then told me how she had been doing laundry when he came in and just started taking all his clothes off. Off came the jacket, the shoes, the socks, the shirt, the pants...he paused at the boxers, looked at her, then started to take them off anyway. She quickly intervened since a public laundromat really isn't the place to strip down and wash ALL your clothes and told him he couldn't do that. He seemed pretty intent, his boxers were wet, so she gave him a towel to wrap himself in while he waited for his clothes to wash and dry.

So in reality, what I had walked in on was the end of the very interesting afternoon she'd had at the laundromat. For me it had been one of a series of events in my day, but was by far the most memorable. Prior to the laundromat I had finally managed to get my bank account validated after a month of waiting, which meant I could get my cell phone, which meant I had a means of being reached when away from my apartment. While all of that was very exciting for me, that was not what I was waiting to tell my friends about that night when we met to watch the Rugby game. It was apparently not a good night for the French since they were ultimately clobbered at the last minute by the English in the semi-finals of the Rugby World Cup.

Bringing you up to speed (part 2)

So, to quickly sum up some of the random things I jotted down which aren't worth a whole story, but to those who know me and the subject will appreciate these notes or understand their meaning:
(a) I am here for two years to finish my JD and obtain a Masters 1 and a Masters 2 in business law. In France, lawyers are called "avocats" and work in "cabinets". Now, to those of you who speak French, the irony might be dawning on you. Or maybe I'm just the dork who thinks these kinds of things are funny. Both these words have two meanings. "Avocat" could just as well mean "avocado" and "cabinet" also means, well, "cabinet". I don't think I have to draw out the explanation here.

(b) my town, Puteaux, is on a hill. Consequently I have an AMAZING view of Paris from my apartment with the Eiffel Tower smack in the middle. Now, contrary to all movies where there's an American living in Paris who has the view of the Eiffel Tower from his living room, this is NOT the norm, and any apartment with that view is insanely expensive...unless you live outside of Paris...and on a hill...and up five flights of stairs. So, because of this incline, the town has installed escalators. Yes, you read correctly, my town has outdoor escalators in green glass tubes going up the hill. None go down, there are stairs for that, but there are these weird space aged looking tubes that pop up out of a hill. Other than the space aged escalators, there is an adorable carousel in town next to the town hall which also has an amazing fountain out front, and is lit up all purple at night (the town hall, not the fountain of course). Finally, the last thing that was interesting/strange about this town was that while waiting to cross the street, because the cars had the right of way, a police car -- who, I repeat, had the right of way -- stopped and waved me to cross the street. Maybe it was just that policeman but it still seemed strange that he had the right of way and chose to stop in the intersection and plug up traffic just to let me cross.
(c) for anyone who is interested in the names of the different daylight savings zones, France is in the "Romance daylight time."
(d) People. So, this is just random thoughts and sightings that I wanted to share because I am special like that. I saw a girl at school who, for lack of a better description, had Beatrix Potter hair. The actor who plays LeChiffre in the newest James Bond does clothing ads here, and I heard a guy on the train one day who for all the world sounded like he could have been the French Darth Vader. For Phil, whose red shoes are SO red, I want you to know that as weird as I thought it was, it wasn't as strange as seeing 3 complete strangers sitting near each other on the train all wearing 3 different kinds of totally red shoes. Alison, there's a guy who looks like Max Medina who lives in my town. Kind of strange. And for all of you who watch "Sex and the City" and know about the "scrunchy" episode...there are Parisian women, and even some very well dressed Parisian women, who still sport the scrunchy. Then again there are French women who are wearing those white boots that people wore in the 80s...Some styles I will never understand.
(e) Blood drive in France. I had to include this because in all the years that I've given blood I have never ever heard a presentation like this one. Plus, I had the pleasure of hearing this presentation twice! Two guys came into the room to get people to go out and give blood and quickly laid out all the rules about how long you have to wait to give blood after being sick, out of the country, etc. The speech was the normal speech you always hear until...they started talking about users of illicit substances. "Now, if you are an occasional toker...you need to wait 48 hours before giving blood. But, for those of you who toke up on a regular basis...please wait 15 days." The speech was fast enough that I had to think twice about what I had heard, but I was pretty sure that's what the man had said, and sure enough...he repeated it later that day in another class!

Bringing you up to speed (part 1)

I have officially been in Paris for just over a month now, am finally getting settled in and adjusting to my new environment. I live in an apartment just outside of Paris in a town called Puteaux. It's about a 10 minute walk from La Defense, the closest tourist attraction and the closest train station that takes you into or out of Paris.

I have been keeping track of all the things I wanted to write about so as this blog progresses I will try to add them in so that I can catch up to present time.

I guess the best place to start at the moment would be the beginning. The trip to Paris started well, got on flight one, got on flight two, arrived in Newark, collected my bags to check them in with Air India (my flight to Paris) and the first thing I notice when I arrive to check in is the sign that tells you what you can and can't have in your carry-on. This one was different. It had something new on it that I'd never seen on these signs before. Since high school I've seen quite a few of these signs, but never, never had I ever seen a sign that told me I couldn't have grenades in my carry-on! Who would have thought? Really wishing I had a picture of that.

Since then, I have moved into my new apartment, started classes and survived our first transportation strike. They have promised another strike sometime in November -- I guess when people are less willing to try to walk to work. More on that later.