Sad cats, cheap cheese, and Victor Hugo

This morning I hit up the American Church for the first time since I was still looking for a place to live, with the hope that some cute Franco-American family was looking for an American babysitter to take care of their kids a few days a week. Not really the case -- there's an Irish setter that needs to be walked every single day for a couple in the center of Paris, and a lot of people want maids. Huh. Not so much with the success.

On the way home, I stopped at my quartier marche -- it's a small market on Saturday and Wednesday (not the same as my Sunday market, which is at Place Jeanne d'Arc) -- the Vincent-Auriol market goes underneath the above ground metro line and is full of produce sellers who will shout at you claiming to sell the cheapest produce. Reminds me of Senegal. I always go to a middle-aged woman and a younger guy who sell me cheap fruit and don't shout at me. They're nice and reasonably priced. Today I spent about half of what I would spend on fruit at the supermarche on bananas, apples, and tomatoes. There's also a cheese stand, where you can buy delicious cheese, and if you stick to small amounts (a sliver of cumin gouda, a little mound of chevre) it's also pretty cheap. And then there is the flower man, who sells fresh-cut flowers for a fraction of what you pay in the neighborhood florist shops.

I should add that the people I buy my cheese and produce from are really friendly. In Paris, people who have these jobs are often just plain rude -- not all the time, but there's less of a need to be overly friendly like in the US -- so it's really nice to have the cheese lady put up with my need to "reflechir" over the fromage and then only charge me 4 euro for two kinds that will last me all week.

I also discovered a boulangerie today that is apparently run by a woman with a sense of humor. This made my day. The thing is -- okay, my salary is not very much. I haven't even been paid yet, and when I do get paid, most of my pay will go to rent. So when I spend money, I'm more careful about it here. I like to linger over the pastry case before I pick out my pain au chocolat. I want to get my money's worth. I mean, I don't want to spend it on an unworthy, sub-par, not delicious enough pastry. When you're doing Paris on the cheap, you've got to make these things count. And a lot of times, Parisians aren't really fans of customers leaning over the pastry case deep in thought for a mini-eternity, when you could just buy your baguette and a pastry and head out.

But this woman? As I looked around her bakery and comparison-shopped tonight's dessert and explained myself by saying, "I have to reflect a little bit," she said, "That's fine. I'm open until 5."

Word. I am coming back.

So, things that I love about Paris:
-cumin gouda
-chevre
-French candy (Actually, I think Haribo is German, but still...)
-pain au chocolat
-how much more I read here
-how cheap and delicious my groceries are
-having breakfast in my apartment and looking out onto the other buildings and the courtyard
-free libraries that have excellent English sections
-cheap pools
-goofy little daily interactions
-the best public transit of anywhere I've ever lived
-my tiny kitchen and bedroom, especially since my last Ikea trip
-living alone (can be really nice, especially when the city gets overwhelming)

Things I don't like about Paris:
-my tiny, problematic shower
-having to watch my step over the urine trails on the sidewalk all the time
-how everything kind of slows down when it rains because people just walk everywhere
-old plumbing systems and consequent problems with pipes and stuff
-the fact that one of my hallway neighbors is turning out to be Mr. All Bad Music All The Time and seems to really enjoy the late-night conversations with people with high-pitched voices (and, this being an apartment building and not Smith, I can't just go over there all bleary-eyed and indignant and be like, "I have a test tomorrow, can you please be quiet?")
-living alone (can get lonely sometimes)

Things I miss about home:
-having on oven. I keep wanting to bake some cookies or brownies or something and that is just out of the question when your kitchen is equipped with hot plates and a mini-fridge.
-PANCAKES. Preferably chocolate chip or blueberry. I really want some pancakes. I don't know why, I don't even eat them that often at home.
-Oreos and peanut butter. Okay, so you can get both here, but they're so expensive!
-how everything doesn't close early,
-and how everything is (pretty much) open on Sunday
-a good mocha/latte that doesn't cost more than week's worth of bread
-American bureaucracy. I never thought I'd say that, but not getting paid until almost 3 months after my arrival in Paris? Yeah. I miss you, United States.

But one thing I love about Paris -- these random moments that sometimes happen in the metro. Like today, I was heading home from Invalides and the American Church with my earbuds in, and I was kind of on autopilot. I got to the Etoile/Nation line, and I started down the corridor to the direction of Etoile, when I realized that Nation is the direction where my neighborhood is, and so I quickly spun around and headed over to Nation.

A middle-aged woman in a hijab who was standing in the Nation corridor saw the whole thing and just smiled at me. I could tell she thought it was funny but there was nothing malicious about it. I smiled back and it was like we were in on a joke. This is a stranger I will never see again, but it's funny how you can connect with people in unexpected ways, even fleetingly, in a huge city full of strangers, which is exactly what Paris is.

I have plans to go to Victor Hugo's house this afternoon, but that moment made my day.

I go back to work tomorrow and I can't wait to start teaching again and see my students and attempt to make small talk in the teachers' lounge and have a million French children ask me questions about whether or not I was born in England or the English words for the days of the week or whether or not I have friends in Paris. I've already planned one lesson for Friday. We're playing Bingo with numbers up to 20 in English. Last week they counted pictures on the board and I tried to teach them little bits of English.

"How many sad cats are there?"
"Zair hah firteen sad cats."

"How many cats with hats are there?"
"Zair hah ten cats ins ats."

Vacation, schmacation, France. Maybe it's that pesky American/Protestant/Puritan work ethic, but I like going to work.

Photos! Finally! Et la vie quotidienne...

In my last-minute preparations for France, I brought the wrong USB cord for my camera, and I didn't get a replacement until yesterday, which was sad because it meant I was taking some photos, but they didn't have anywhere to go. Here's what I've got so far. It's just the beginning:

This is the front of my building, at 161 Rue du Chevaleret. Typical crazy French facade and fancy door. The building is old, which is not as common in the 13th. My apartment isn't nearly as cool-looking as the facade, but I really like the way my building looks.

And inside - this is the biggest room in my apartment. I only have 17 square meters, but as you can see, I have a very French window and faux balcony in the corner.

I'm not religious at all, but Notre Dame is pretty amazing even for those born secular. I mean, it's beautiful. It's mesmerizing to just look up at it for a long time. Just watch out for all of the tourists taking pictures. I mean, not that I did that or anything... And also, gargoyles? Yeah. I love the gargoyles.

I love these eyes - they were up along the Seine when I first got here. The last time I was back at Quai des Celestins, they had started to peel off, sadly, but Paris is full of ephemeral art (and public art!) like this. And in Paris, even a lot of the graffiti is beautiful. Although there are probably some who would disagree with me.

This is the view from the cafe I would go to every day to check my email when I was staying at Hotel du Fauconnier in the Marais. You could just sit and look out at these buildings (all old, spotless, and pretty) and listen to crowds of people go by on the street below. A nice way to spend an afternoon.

You can take the girl out of the Smith College art department, but you can't take the Smith College art department out of the girl.

Saint-Jacques, near the Marais - I went here during my first few days in France, because from a distance I thought it was Notre Dame. Turns out it isn't, but it's still a beautiful cathedral (I think, maybe it technically isn't...) with a small park surrounding it, which was full of Parisians reading when I was there. Paris is full of places to sit and think or read, which I love, so it was a nice discovery.

So there you have it - photographic evidence that I live here. Further evidence is the fact that I've had my first truly stressful few days not due to trying to find an apartment but due to ordinary things - like Mondays, and then coming home yesterday to find that my land lord had decided to fix one of the pipes in my apartment without calling me first. That was awkward. There are few things as awkward as walking into your hallway to see your apartment door open and then to see a gnome pop out holding a wrench, informing you that he would have called but his cell phone died.

Then, later in the evening, the previous tenant of my apartment showed up just as I was getting home for the second time trying to get his mail out of my mailbox. He explained that he transferred his address but his mail is still coming here. So I gave him anything in my boite aux lettres that was clearly his, and then he gave me his email address so that I can email him if anything else comes for him.

So basically, a day of awkward interactions, not really abated by the fact that I have an earache at the moment, and all I really wanted to do was make couscous and lentils and try out my brand new French ear drops and watch True Blood. Sometimes it really is the little things.

Today got off to a better start. I went to my quartier's market, which goes under the Metro (it's above ground here), and people sell all manner of fruits and veggies and cheese and flowers and junk and Indian scarves and Chinese food, and the prices are way cheaper than supermarches. I got a huge bag of apples, oranges, and tomatoes, a tiny piece of fancy gouda and a small pat of chevre, and a bunch of irises for my desk. On the way home, I picked up a schedule for yoga classes at a community center near my apartment, and picked up my daily 40 centimes demi-baguette at Boulangerie Jeanne d'Arc. I think the market is definitely the way to go for cheap produce, but the cheese was pretty quality, and I think if I stick to the generic cheese at the supermarche, that might be the cheaper way to go. This is very mundane, but shopping for food in Paris, while way cheaper than buying groceries in the United States, relies on comparison-shopping and trying out as many options as possible. And there are a lot of options - everything from cheap discount grocery stores to more ordinary grocery stores, to borderline Target-ish stores full of pricy food and crying kids in the cereal aisle. Apparently one's desire for Frosted Flakes and consequent tantrum is not an American phenomenon. Who knew?

I've found that Carrefour is pretty reasonably priced if you buy the Carrefour products (this is my grocery store of choice), Leader Price is dirt cheap but kind of scary, Casino is a bit more expensive than Carrefour, and Monoprix, while it is essentially called "one price" is overpriced. I'm a big fan of my generic Carrefour cereal and lentils and couscous and fresh fruit and fromage blanc (which is cheese, but it's like a more runny version of plain yogurt) with jam. A lot of things here are really affordable - coffee beans are cheaper, as are basic staples. And totally random things are more expensive. American things are more expensive too, obviously - any international foods section in a typical grocery store will have incredibly pricy peanut butter and pancakes and maple syrup on the American shelf.

I've found that life in Paris is definitely as glamorous as you'd want it to be - you really can just buy a cafe creme and sit in a cafe for hours reading and writing. The majority of the people who live here dress beautifully, the food is delicious and sometimes even cheap, and every day I walk past beautiful things that are just here and have been forever. I also tend to stumble over things that I love - especially bookstores. The Metro is amazing and makes getting around really easy - nothing is too far away. I can hop on in the 13th and get off in the Marais or Montmartre.

But - a big part of living here is also what it would be anywhere else - figuring out how to save the most money on groceries, figuring out how to get to work on time, figuring out which boulangerie in your neighborhood has the best bread at the cheapest price, figuring out how to plunge your toilet, putting up with the annoying parts of living in an old Parisian apartment building. It's a lot of logistics and getting oriented, which I guess is really the difference between being here as a tourist and being here because you live here.

But I never wanted to live here because I like visiting the Eiffel Tower, anyway.

Now it's rainy, and I'm in my apartment listening to Iron and Wine, putting off going out again for boring but necessary errands. La vie quotidienne, I guess.

More pictures are on the way. I now have a whole memory card to fill up, and I am really excited to finally be able to photograph the things I see every day.