 |
| The echoing will finally stop! |
 |
| Living space! |
 |
| Only a few casualties. |
We have way too much stuff
The movers came and went on Wednesday. After two months sleeping on an air mattress and living in an apartment with only a table, two chairs, and one floor lamp, I am grateful to finally have a couch to sit on and a down comforter to cuddle under. It took the three guys about three hours to unload the truck - all 81 boxes. I wasn't sure if it was all going to fit in our tiny apartment. We have a lot of stuff... too much. We lived the previous month with just two plates, two sets of utensils and wine glasses, one saute pan, and pan to boil water... while we had to plan how we cooked our dinners, we survived. But now that I am staring at our cupboard, I wonder why we need four different types of bowls (two types of cereal. two types of soup), three wine openers, eight sets of napkins and four cutting boards. Everything fit in our Arlington apartment, but here in France where space is a premium, I am of the opinion that we have too much stuff. I can understand why people see America as a land of excess. Although, compared with the miniature/doll house size furniture, cars and apartments, even normal American thing seem supersized. Our dishwasher can't fit our American plates (they are too tall). We had to leave all our baking sheets in the US, because they won't fit in our small oven. And because our closest space is now reduced by 75%, sadly I think need to re-evaluate my wardrobe. Our life in France includes a bit of purging, which is probably a good thing.
Market Meals
We have been taking advantage of having a farmers markets just 10 minutes from the apartment. The trip to the center of town has become a Saturday morning tradition, and finding recipes that take advantage of the fresh produce has been a weekly challenge.
Almost everything we cook is from the market. We have enjoyed the hand made pasta and ravioli with veal. I made a quiche Loraine (including a homemade crust). Yesterday we had scallops with an endive salad and raspberry vinaigrette. This Saturday's market brought a couple selling oysters -- they even sold us the special knife to shuck them open for tonight's appetizers. This weekend ended with grilled steak, roasted sweet potatoes and asparagus. Most meals have been healthy. We do need to down size the portions. When we ask the vendors a quantity for two people, I think they really give us enough for three. Even in France, making a profit is an objective. But, we're learning. Next time, we'll just ask for one serving.
Almost everything we cook is from the market. We have enjoyed the hand made pasta and ravioli with veal. I made a quiche Loraine (including a homemade crust). Yesterday we had scallops with an endive salad and raspberry vinaigrette. This Saturday's market brought a couple selling oysters -- they even sold us the special knife to shuck them open for tonight's appetizers. This weekend ended with grilled steak, roasted sweet potatoes and asparagus. Most meals have been healthy. We do need to down size the portions. When we ask the vendors a quantity for two people, I think they really give us enough for three. Even in France, making a profit is an objective. But, we're learning. Next time, we'll just ask for one serving.
 |
| Veal, with homemade pasta, and roasted red peppers and broccoli. |
 |
| Quiche Loraine |
 |
| Salad, homemade ravioli, and veal. |
 |
| Scallops with orange, asparagus and endive salad. |
 |
| Fresh from the market oysters. |
 |
| Steak, sweet potatoes, and asparagus. |
Off the beaten path: Rueil-Malmaison
Our first weekend outing lead us seven km north of Garches to Rueil-Malmaison. Known best for the Chateau where Napoleon Bonaparte and his first wife Joséphine lived in the late 18th century. This small castle became part of the seat of French Government and the location where Napoleon made many important acts including selling Louisiana to the US. (http://www.mairie-rueilmalmaison.fr/histoire-de-rueil)
The Chateau is much smaller and less extravagant than Versailles, but certainly not lacking in luxury and opulence. Just like Versailles, the castle had intricately painted scenes on the walls and ceiling, beautiful crystal chandeliers, and gilded furniture -- just much less of it.
There was no entrance fee to the house when we visited, but that might have been because of the jubilee celebration. According to the website it looks like there is a nominal fee to the house and surrounding park. Also, be aware that it is a bit of a walk from the RER station. You can find more information on their website: http://www.musees-nationaux-napoleoniens.org/homes/home_id24833_u1l2.htm
The town was also celebrating the first imperial jubilee for Napoleon and Josephine. This meant lots of historical re-enactment throughout the town. We ran into a few as we walked from the Chateau back to the RER station.
The Chateau is much smaller and less extravagant than Versailles, but certainly not lacking in luxury and opulence. Just like Versailles, the castle had intricately painted scenes on the walls and ceiling, beautiful crystal chandeliers, and gilded furniture -- just much less of it.
 |
| Chateau Rueil-Malmaison - taken from the garden 2012. |
 |
| Vue du Chateau de Malmaison around 1805. Pierre Joseph Petit |
 |
| Billards Room |
 |
| Bibliotheque (Library) |
 |
| Napoleon's bedroom. |
The town was also celebrating the first imperial jubilee for Napoleon and Josephine. This meant lots of historical re-enactment throughout the town. We ran into a few as we walked from the Chateau back to the RER station.
Weekly Market Outing
I am absolutely loving the fact that we are a ten minute walk from our bi-weekly open air market. Each Wednesday and Saturday morning the central square brims with life as dozens of vendors bring to Garches peppers, raspberries, leeks, flowers, homemade pasta, cured meats, roasted chicken, cheeses, and freshly baked bread. It is a gourmand's paradise. There are even folks who sell crepes and fresh orange juice, as well as paella, Chinese and Lebanese food.
Each Saturday, Thomas and I head to the market to buy the ingredients for the meals that we'll have over the next few days. Tomorrow, I decided to make a quiche Loraine so we bought something bacon like. It was not exactly bacon because the butcher ran out of that, but he recommended this smoked something or other (he did tell me what it was, but I can't remember). I trusted his judgement. I told him what I was making, and I was happy to take his recommendation. We also bought some homemade pasta, and some veal. For the veal, we went to the butcher that Thomas befriended last week. He spoke only a little English so it took us (me, Thomas, the butcher, and his wife) to figure how to tell them that we wanted veal. They were patient and are always friendly and helpful when interacting with us. After trying to describe what we wanted to buy in broken French and the butcher listing all the meats he had, I pulled out my iphone and just googled it. His eyes lit up when he realized what we were asking for: "escalope de veau." Now we will know how to ask for it next time.
The market is always fun. Seeing all that fresh foods, also makes me want to cook better. Perhaps a cooking class is in our near future.
Each Saturday, Thomas and I head to the market to buy the ingredients for the meals that we'll have over the next few days. Tomorrow, I decided to make a quiche Loraine so we bought something bacon like. It was not exactly bacon because the butcher ran out of that, but he recommended this smoked something or other (he did tell me what it was, but I can't remember). I trusted his judgement. I told him what I was making, and I was happy to take his recommendation. We also bought some homemade pasta, and some veal. For the veal, we went to the butcher that Thomas befriended last week. He spoke only a little English so it took us (me, Thomas, the butcher, and his wife) to figure how to tell them that we wanted veal. They were patient and are always friendly and helpful when interacting with us. After trying to describe what we wanted to buy in broken French and the butcher listing all the meats he had, I pulled out my iphone and just googled it. His eyes lit up when he realized what we were asking for: "escalope de veau." Now we will know how to ask for it next time.
The market is always fun. Seeing all that fresh foods, also makes me want to cook better. Perhaps a cooking class is in our near future.
 |
| Crepes, coffee, and freshly squeezed OJ break. |
 |
| Handmade Pasta Guy |
 |
| Market is always at the town center next to the Church. |
Je ne parle pas bien français
I have to give props to Thomas. He has been in France just a little over a week. For someone who speaks very little French in a country where most people do not speak English, he has surprisingly kept a good attitude. When you don't speak the same language as the people around you, it's like you exist in a bubble. You smile and walk around, but there is little connection with the world that is passing by. People try to be friendly, but you don't understand their encouraging or helpful words. This outsider existence can get frustrating very fast.
For the most part he is making the most of the situation. Daily errands become opportunities for learning. His journeys to the post office, the butcher in the market, the baker for his croissants, and the dry cleaners are where he finds his 20 minute French tutors. He will try to speak French when ordering his bread or dropping off the dry cleaning. Since he does the errands during the week day, most shop keepers, without many customers, can be patient enough to correct his French. As Thomas says. "the people in this country exist for me to learn French." That is the best outlook to have. When I lived in Burkina Faso. I did not speak to anyone in French for my first year (for fear of making mistakes). It wasn't until my second year that I realized that my French will never be perfect, and it will certainly never improve if I don't speak - flaws and all. It's good that Thomas has made this discovery at the beginning of our adventure in France.
After one week, his French has improved. He is making an effort in conjugating his verbs, and he watches his tenses. A friend of his told him to just say things in English, but with a French accent. That is not a bad strategy and is something I do when I don't know the French vocabulary. Thomas has chosen a different route-- which consists of making up words. Today he discovered that he has been pronouncing "maintenant" (=now) incorrectly saying "maintama". He also has made up the word "sessama" thinking it meant "next week" (la semaine prochaine). The pronunciation problem could be one reason why he gets the confused looks from the French. Or why he got two crepes (deux ) instead of buttered crepes (beurre) at the market today. For some deux (pronounced like dew) and beurre (pronounced like ber) rolls differently off the tongue. For Thomas, apparently he says them the same way.
He is doing great, and his French can only get better in time. I keep reminding him that he has only been here a week. He has a a session twice a week with a conversation tutor. He starts a two day a week French class at a local association, and he has all of France to help him improve his French. I think by the end of the year, he will be having conversations and not just lessons with the French.
For the most part he is making the most of the situation. Daily errands become opportunities for learning. His journeys to the post office, the butcher in the market, the baker for his croissants, and the dry cleaners are where he finds his 20 minute French tutors. He will try to speak French when ordering his bread or dropping off the dry cleaning. Since he does the errands during the week day, most shop keepers, without many customers, can be patient enough to correct his French. As Thomas says. "the people in this country exist for me to learn French." That is the best outlook to have. When I lived in Burkina Faso. I did not speak to anyone in French for my first year (for fear of making mistakes). It wasn't until my second year that I realized that my French will never be perfect, and it will certainly never improve if I don't speak - flaws and all. It's good that Thomas has made this discovery at the beginning of our adventure in France.
After one week, his French has improved. He is making an effort in conjugating his verbs, and he watches his tenses. A friend of his told him to just say things in English, but with a French accent. That is not a bad strategy and is something I do when I don't know the French vocabulary. Thomas has chosen a different route-- which consists of making up words. Today he discovered that he has been pronouncing "maintenant" (=now) incorrectly saying "maintama". He also has made up the word "sessama" thinking it meant "next week" (la semaine prochaine). The pronunciation problem could be one reason why he gets the confused looks from the French. Or why he got two crepes (deux ) instead of buttered crepes (beurre) at the market today. For some deux (pronounced like dew) and beurre (pronounced like ber) rolls differently off the tongue. For Thomas, apparently he says them the same way.
He is doing great, and his French can only get better in time. I keep reminding him that he has only been here a week. He has a a session twice a week with a conversation tutor. He starts a two day a week French class at a local association, and he has all of France to help him improve his French. I think by the end of the year, he will be having conversations and not just lessons with the French.
 |
| Beurre. This one has flecks of salt. After using unsalted butter for years, this is a bit too salty. However, on a baguette with strawberry jams, the salt and sweet combination makes you forget just how bad it is for you. |
Community
On Friday, I had a conversation with a former colleague who also happens to be French. He asked me if I thought French weekly markets were different from Farmer's Markets in the US. My opinion (which he generally agreed), was that the variety and quality were the same, but there was a mark up in price in the US. US Farmers markets are showcased as having better quality produce and more homemade (time intensive) items than the grocery store. Here in France, the quality of the vegetables at our bi-weekly market in Garches are definitely better than what I've found in the grocery stores, but the prices don't seem to be higher. Every community has a market, and that is just where people do their weekly shopping. There seems to be no reason to have higher prices in the market.
However, after spending yesterday morning in our town square market I realized the one major difference between open air markets in the two countries -- community. Precisely because every community here in France has a market, and these markets are where people do their weekly shopping, this is the place to see neighbors. Every Saturday morning, you see the same people at this central place. Most folks, including Thomas and myself, make the morning of it. There are three cafés on the square, and they are often filled with Garchois families conversing over coffee (and sometimes beer -despite being only eleven in the morning). Thomas and I often stop by Chez Bad, the crêpe maker I met during my first visit to Garches. Since we don't have our coffee marker yet, we look forward to our regular visits to his crêperie to have a café crème on Saturdays.
Now that we are in the rentré (the moment when everyone comes back from their vacation) Garches has come to life. Thomas arrived just in time to see how active this community is. This weekend was Garches "community day" - at least that is what I'm calling it. They had fireworks on Saturday night. Today there were games and food at the town square. There was a mini conference in the town gymnasium where all the club and associations had tables and people can sign up and join their group. Thomas and I talked to people from the Rotary Club, a running group, a rock climbing group, and even an association that helps people learn to speak French. In thirty minutes we managed to find lots of ways both fun and useful to spend our time here in France -- and all in the community of Garches. It was a delightful way to spend a Sunday.
However, after spending yesterday morning in our town square market I realized the one major difference between open air markets in the two countries -- community. Precisely because every community here in France has a market, and these markets are where people do their weekly shopping, this is the place to see neighbors. Every Saturday morning, you see the same people at this central place. Most folks, including Thomas and myself, make the morning of it. There are three cafés on the square, and they are often filled with Garchois families conversing over coffee (and sometimes beer -despite being only eleven in the morning). Thomas and I often stop by Chez Bad, the crêpe maker I met during my first visit to Garches. Since we don't have our coffee marker yet, we look forward to our regular visits to his crêperie to have a café crème on Saturdays.
Now that we are in the rentré (the moment when everyone comes back from their vacation) Garches has come to life. Thomas arrived just in time to see how active this community is. This weekend was Garches "community day" - at least that is what I'm calling it. They had fireworks on Saturday night. Today there were games and food at the town square. There was a mini conference in the town gymnasium where all the club and associations had tables and people can sign up and join their group. Thomas and I talked to people from the Rotary Club, a running group, a rock climbing group, and even an association that helps people learn to speak French. In thirty minutes we managed to find lots of ways both fun and useful to spend our time here in France -- and all in the community of Garches. It was a delightful way to spend a Sunday.
 |
| Garches, all decked out for it's community day. |
 |
| There was even a parade with a band. |
 |
| Not bad for my first time at target practice. |
 |
| Barbe a Papa = Cotton Candy |
 |
| The French do not know how to make a hotdog. Baguettes are good, but not as a bun. |
 |
| But they do know how to make good fries. |
Le System de Santé
My experience with France's health care system has been fine so far. Before arriving in France, I tried hard to keep my expectations neutral on their system de santé. However, coming from the United States where socialized medicine is treated like a death sentence, one tends to have low expectations- long waits to get care or low quality for example- because that is the perception of it in the US.
I don't pay into the social health care system (my organization has its own insurance), but I do use the same doctors and facilities. The main difference is that instead of the state paying the doctor, like they do for the French, I pay the doctor first and then the insurance company reimburses me.
Granted, I've only been to one doctor and only once so far, but from this experience it seems like I will have the same level of quality here... not exactly the same, but at least the same level. For one thing, never try to make a doctor's appoint in the summer time. Mid-August, I called to make an appointment with the doctor. She was on vacation, so I couldn't see her until the early September. That, however, is to be expected given that everyone in Paris leaves the city in August for the vacances. One positive aspect of this system is the transparency in pricing. Even with insurance, every time I went to the doctor in the US, I was never certain if I was going to get a bill a few months later because the insurance did not cover everything. Here in France, when I called to make the appointment, they told me exactly how much the visit would cost (80 euros).
The actual doctor's visit was interesting. I found the doctor to be competent, her facilities more than adequate, and her demeanor, while business like, was personable enough to keep me comfortable. Her office was simple and her secretary a character. The secretary was super sweet but spoke as slow as she walked- which was at a snail's pace. At first, the slowness in her speech was an advantage for me to comprehend her French. But I grew weary as I listened to her spend fifteen minutes helping a caller make a future appointment, while doing my paper work. I also had to laugh (internally) when I tried to make my next appointment in February and the secretary said that that was too far in advance. She asked me to call and make an appointment in January. I think she could not schedule me in February because the paper calendar where she wrote down the appointments did not go past December 2012.
While the setup is simple, this slow pace at the doctor's office seems more civilized. There was no one in the waiting room but me. The doctor wasn't overbooked. I didn't feel rushed. I never felt that any of my doctors in the States ever sped through my exams, but I did sense how busy they were because of the mobs of people in the waiting area.
Overall, my first visit to the doctor exceeded my (albeit neutral) expectations. By the end of the exam, I found myself a doctor in the France, and I got the prescriptions I needed -- my two objectives of the day. But for next time, I will bring my own dressing gown. I was a little unprepared when I had to undress and realized that they don't use gowns here in France. Even in the privacy of the doctor's exam room, it was a little strange to be that exposed.
I don't pay into the social health care system (my organization has its own insurance), but I do use the same doctors and facilities. The main difference is that instead of the state paying the doctor, like they do for the French, I pay the doctor first and then the insurance company reimburses me.
Granted, I've only been to one doctor and only once so far, but from this experience it seems like I will have the same level of quality here... not exactly the same, but at least the same level. For one thing, never try to make a doctor's appoint in the summer time. Mid-August, I called to make an appointment with the doctor. She was on vacation, so I couldn't see her until the early September. That, however, is to be expected given that everyone in Paris leaves the city in August for the vacances. One positive aspect of this system is the transparency in pricing. Even with insurance, every time I went to the doctor in the US, I was never certain if I was going to get a bill a few months later because the insurance did not cover everything. Here in France, when I called to make the appointment, they told me exactly how much the visit would cost (80 euros).
The actual doctor's visit was interesting. I found the doctor to be competent, her facilities more than adequate, and her demeanor, while business like, was personable enough to keep me comfortable. Her office was simple and her secretary a character. The secretary was super sweet but spoke as slow as she walked- which was at a snail's pace. At first, the slowness in her speech was an advantage for me to comprehend her French. But I grew weary as I listened to her spend fifteen minutes helping a caller make a future appointment, while doing my paper work. I also had to laugh (internally) when I tried to make my next appointment in February and the secretary said that that was too far in advance. She asked me to call and make an appointment in January. I think she could not schedule me in February because the paper calendar where she wrote down the appointments did not go past December 2012.
While the setup is simple, this slow pace at the doctor's office seems more civilized. There was no one in the waiting room but me. The doctor wasn't overbooked. I didn't feel rushed. I never felt that any of my doctors in the States ever sped through my exams, but I did sense how busy they were because of the mobs of people in the waiting area.
Overall, my first visit to the doctor exceeded my (albeit neutral) expectations. By the end of the exam, I found myself a doctor in the France, and I got the prescriptions I needed -- my two objectives of the day. But for next time, I will bring my own dressing gown. I was a little unprepared when I had to undress and realized that they don't use gowns here in France. Even in the privacy of the doctor's exam room, it was a little strange to be that exposed.
At last
Thomas and the beagles arrived this morning. Our furniture and other household items from the old apartment are in transit. I think we can officially say that the Nimmo-Arriola, Arriola-Nimmo family has moved to France.
Their Air France flight this morning was scheduled to arrive at 11:30. Due in part to my over eagerness and also not wanting to be late, I arrived at Charles De Gaulle (CDG) airport this morning around 11:15. Despite the fact that I verified their flight was on time (which it was when I left the apartment), by the time I arrived at the airport, the expected arrival was now 11:53. Twenty-minutes I guess is not so bad.
The good thing is that the arrivals hall for his flight was not difficult to find from the RER (train) station. The bad thing is that the arrivals hall is the most dismal place in all of CDG. Most areas of the airport are bright, sunny, and not overly crowded considering that CDG is the second busiest airport in Europe. The arrivals hall on the other hand is small, dark, dirty, and crazy crowded with people arriving and families waiting for loved ones. The Illy coffee stand was a bright spot in the darkness. I had a delicious cappuccino - a rare find in a country where bad espresso is as ubiquitous as their good wine.
I stood just outside the customs gate hoping to see Thomas and help him with the dogs and luggage. He didn't have a working cell phone in country so every time I saw the doors open I had to quickly assess who was walking out the ten exit doors. As I scanned from side to side, it was like a life size version of whack a mole, except there was neither whacking nor moles, but reflexes were key. Door one would open. Before I could see who was coming out, a second and third door would open. I don't know how, but I caught a two second glimpse of Thomas as he was walking past a door. I yelled out his name a few times. Thankfully, he heard me after the fourth time. At least he knew where I was. He apparently was trying to find the dogs. After another 20 minutes of waiting, out he came pushing a luggage cart and a behind him was a CDG staffer pushing a second cart with Molly and Scout in their crates. Molly was lying in the crate calm, but poor Scout was whimpering. At that point it was already 1pm. The poor puppies have been cooped up in their crates since 10pm DC time the previous day. As compensation, the beagles received lots of treats today.
The beagles seem to be adjusting fine to life in France. They took some time to sniff around the new apartment. Molly found a favorite spot- the floor just below the radiator in the bedroom. We met two neighbors who gushed over the dogs. We walked around the neighborhood and the beagles explored their new home. Now they are sleeping peacefully in the bed. I think they have acclimated to their new situation.