the french do everything by commitee. (its understandable when you know the history, and that one in three are employed by the government, but still, at times it can be baffling). i had five little cartes postales to mail to the USA today.
step one: stand in line (with three people pressed right up against/behind you) at an open window marked 'pour envoyer etranger' (for foreign outgoing mail)
step two: wait
step three: greet postal worker behind counter, 'bonjour monsieur/madame', then ask nicely if it is ok to give him/her money in exchange for postage stamps
step four: wait while said worker inspects postcards, and thinks about your request.
step five: wait while said worker gets up, goes across room and asks another worker if said request is possible
step six: thank the worker when he says yes it can be done, but you must do it at the other window, just next to his because today his really isn't the foreign outgoing window as that worker is on vacation
step seven: wait in line at other window
step eight: repeat your request, again as politely as possible (use formal french peppered with s'il vous plaits)
step nine: wait while new worker confers with previous about your request
step ten: wait while third worker offers his/her opinion
step eleven: wait while all three wonder about the room to find the correct stamps
step twelve: pay 1.30e (exact change is a must) and take the stamps to other counter, apply them to postcards of course
step thirteen: find outgoing foreign mailbox outside post office
step fourteen: ask god why, why, why?! is the outgoing foreign mailbox taped shut with an 'interdit' sign?!?!?
the weather has turned sour today, a nasty wind out of the mountains and cold rain. but that does not deter the french! in the streets, everyone is out walking and doing their regular daily shopping...baguette, cigarettes, flowers...mom and i included.
i've taken up crochet again, after many many years...mom re-taught me a few nights ago, and i am off and running. i am so domestic, can you stand it? imagine the scene: glass of port on the table, dog at my feet, crochet in my hands, in my slippers by 9! and mom right next to me, doing The Jumble! is it possible that i am retired?
passe compose, present, futur proche, futur simple, imperatif, conditionnel, and imparfait...
dear god! (mon dieu!) i am completely over my head in this french business! i can handle the written grammar, even the irregular verbs (in present and passe compose) and endless conjugation...but my mind just cannot get around the tense switches in conversation...i was, i am, i was doing, i did do, i am going to do soon, i am going to do a long time from now, i was doing while i was also doing, i had while i was, i will have when i do, and on and on!
and it is different for every single verb! and for each subject! and it never ends! and i've only touched on HALF the tenses! (there are 14 in total)
...two surgeries (and daily homemade sausages) later, Napo the wandering dog is showing some improvement. much less bleeding today. cross your fingers, put the dear old boy in your thoughts and prayers.
another on the 'church of kate' prayer list today: the Mighty Colt. an unfortunate (driveway!) accident has damaged the side panels and drivers side door, rendering it useless. Balls is climbing through the passenger side and putting up with some strange constant humming sound as well. i suspect mass quantities of duct tape are involved at this stage. reluctant to replace the reliable old (1988) gal, Chris asks for your prayers and well wishes (and contributions perhaps?). those who remember The Mighty Colt know that to know her is to love her.
most afternoons, on the walk home from french class, i stop by the small sandwich stand down the lane from the house for an easy and tasty lunch...yellow and gold awning, glass case, pyramids of baguette sandwiches....jambon et fromage, poulet aubergine, and the newest, curry poulet...the french make fabulous sandwiches!
but seemingly stonefaced service...no facial expression whatsoever or even a nod from the staff (which is constant, always the same madame et monsieur). until this week! the clouds have parted, the sun is shining, i am indeed a human being! "Bonjour Madame, qu'est que vous voulez aujourd'hui?" what? me? are you talking to moi? and is that a hint of a smile i see? and recognition in your eyes?!?! it cannot be! is it so?!
there must be a mathmatical equation in the beauracratic regulations for this, i know it is a common experience for expats and visitors alike.
length of time (no shorter than five weeks) x frequency of visits/choice of item x quantity+ level of french spoken + small dog/scarf wearing ratio=greeting, acknowledgment of existance of regular customer
i totally forgot my VERY DEAREST, BEST FRIENDS BIRTHDAY! Ryan turned 28 (god, i had better be right about that) on February 8th, and i forgot, AGAIN! even worse, i think i called him that week and because he was out i left a message, but DID NOT MENTION the birthday. i didn't send a card, letter, gift, nothing. ok, so i know i've forgotten lots of other birthdays too, but this guy just came and helped me pack up for the big move abroad. ok, so i didn't send Sony a birthday card either (and she moved my heavy boxes for christ's sake). jeez, i think i forgot Erin's birthday this year too. shit. i suck big time. forgive me.
so, please, everyone, send Ryan birthday wishes... puffins75@hotmail.com
ma mere purchased an armoire during a very successful visit to the local resale furniture shop late last week. after arranging the delivery, which required only responding to a few phone calls in french, i thought my job was done. but no! the armoire in question is HUGE. solid (and veneered) walnut, mirrored doors, at least 9 feet high and 5 feet wide. two remarkable delivery men managed to bring it up the stairs in pieces and reassemble it without too much trouble, but i was the receipient of a rather drawn out french lecture on how the mirrored doors are too heavy so the entire piece must be anchored to the wall. he seemed quite concerned about that. ok, well, that's mom and berts deal. i'm outta here.
next day: uncle bert, INSIDE the armoir, the top of it off, reaching behind to tighten the ropes that are threaded through the hooks that he sank into the plaster walls. here kate, hold the doors open and help us keep the whole thing from falling foward (not to mention completely apart, it was in need of gluing as well!) what?!?! i want no part of this! they are going to come in and find all three of us crushed under this massive thing!
did i mention that in the meantime all of mom's clothes were on the bed in my room? miss ruby made a nest. no biggie, but now the thing has to be glued too? ok, so another half day of gluing up (2-3 trips to the hardware store i believe by this point) and straps around it to keep it tight. ok, that done, next the shelves go in...the warped, cracked, misfitted shelves get hammered, wedged and shoved in to place. ok, now, mom wants to be able to hang clothes in the top section. but there isn't a rod.
after spending half the next day struggling with a 23euro aluminum shower rod that was too long, (i think the kitchen scissors i can no longer find may have fallen victim to a misguided attempt to cut the pole) mom managed to solve her dilema...with the mop handle!
and people wonder why i prefer new furniture.
as i meet new people, attend dinner evenings, english speaking events and find myself searching for the right fits in companions (trying each new person on as you might a jacket; does it feel comfortable? does the color suit me? can i afford it?) in this new ville, this new country, this new life; i miss and yearn for the companions, friends, amies left stateside! ...this one that is such a lovely shade of lilac, that one makes me laugh, the classy one, the silent sympatico...yet they are scattered about as well! wisconsin, boston, savannah, texas and so on.
if i were wealthy and luxuriously leisurely, i would scoop them all up, each one and wisk them off to live in my own little village by the sea in the sunny south of France to inhabit a carefree life ensemble!
i got my st.valentine's day kisses (bisous) from miss ruby this morning, what else can a girl ask for?
dear old Napoleon is improving, but the vet prefers to care for him at the clinic for a few more days, perhaps until Rachael returns. i believe he is taking pity on me as well, but he is correct to do so, especially since there is sadly, still some blood in his urine. i will keep all posted. cross your fingers for the old boy!
Maria is a friend of moms who has become quite close to our little family, particularly now that mom takes care of her little baby Grace in the mornings (to those who know my family, it is another spooky coincidence..i have an Aunt Maria who has a daughter GracieAnna). anyhoo, mom always said she reminded her of me, but it is uncanny. same dark hair, light eyes, pale skin, rubenesque figure, penchant for anything red, dark glasses, etc. she is now taking french classes in the mornings at the same school with me! (though not in the same class). two days ago, we stopped by Top-Mod to make a hair appointment for her, when she returned later for her rendez-vous, my stylist insisted we were sisters. no, just friends! no convincing him. and then, not twenty minutes later, the gal behind the counter at the pharmacy: " oh, your sister was just in here with your mom!" sorry, no! more 'jamelles' (twins) sightings to come i'm certain!
"bbbbring, bbbbring"
-"Allo? Dr. F's Vet Clinique"
-"Allo! Je m'appelle Kate Mikkelsen. Excuse moi, Je parle francais mais un petit peu. Mon amie Rachael Dickens est un patiente de vous.... (continues in french like so...) She is on vacation for two weeks, I am staying at her house and also caring for her dog Napoleon. He cut through the fence with his teeth two nights ago and left the garden. I could not find him, but it is normal for him to wander away and then return with speed. He did not return. Yesterday afternoon; the neighbor came and told me that she found him in the lane behind the house; injured. She took him to the Vet she knows and they look at him. He is ok, walking and eating but there is some bloodiness in his urine. The Vet insisted I pick him up quickly, I did. They made pictures but he is not broken inside. They give me medicine for him, which I buy at the pharmacy last night. I think it was an accident with a car, I do not know for certain. But I have fear that more is not good. So, I would like Dr. F to look at him today, because he knows the dog. Ok? You understand me?"
-"So; you need to make an appointment?"
-"Oh; yes please"
-"Come at 6:00."
-"Oh; ok."
-"merci, au revoir"
-"merci, au revoir"
click.
only in France: the firefighters are on strike throughout the region; a symbolic strike but not without some teeth. and in classic gaul style, the firefighters union (of sorts) hired a graphic designer to create an 'en grˇve' logo!!! it's on every firestation; professionally printed placards and each red fire truck. i must admit, it is a good logo.
the morning sun hits the cream stone walls of the houses higher on the hills first; each window is a sleepy eye facing the sea, roused minute by minute, level by level down to the old town. you can tell the time by the slices of sunlight falling on the red tile roof lines.
in the old town boulangeries, butchers and markets open doors, push carts outside, unfold tables and spill into the squares, onto the cobblestones, bursting out with color and activity into every available corner and nook. for a few precious moments more, the walkways are free of dogshit.
well, its friday. enough french lessons for one week, im burned out. today i had to give a presentation on life in the US of A...in front of the class, in french!! mon dieu! but i muddled through somehow, and everyone seemed to really enjoy it, seems the Swedes in particular are enamored with America. the french of course, are not so crazy about us yanks. you wouldn't believe the misconceptions my professeur had!! i think i dispelled them, she even said she forgot i was American, thought i was Swiss or Italian at first, which is a high compliment for the frenchies. i reassured her that the loud jerky american guy in our class the week previous was also thought of as a loud jerky guy in the states as well!
woke up to bugs this morning!! little; itty bitty ants or so they appear to be. everyone in my french class learned the french terms for ants, roaches, bug bomb, etc today!!
watercolor group this afternoon, hosted/taught by Miss Janet, a lovely Swiss lady of nearly 90! i really enjoy the structured time for just sitting quietly and painting.
mom accompanied me this afternoon on my apartment search for Danny; the Irish fellow who asked for my help. its a long story, but basically he manages rental property and often is asked to help someone find an investment or vacation property to buy as well, particularly if the folks are Irish. he has been of great help to mom these past two years, toting her about when a car is required, finding her new apartment, etc. he sent this errand my way as a favor to help with my french and to get to know the town...its a great way to learn and some money might come my way as a commission, but that would probably be a long way off. anyhoo, he is right, in a crunch and unscripted is the way to really test your abilities...i muddled through somehow and managed to find one good unit and make a viewing appointment for Saturday!
my french course has come to the point that my previous schooling left off at...so now i really have to study, not just jog my memory. i'm feeling a little stressed out, overwhelmed i think. at the four week point, it begins to set in that this is not a holiday. and i've been too willing to do anything anyone asked of me...odd jobs, cleaning, etc.
i'm going to drop some of my little odd jobs, clear my schedule so i can concentrate on my french lessons. i only have two more weeks left, i need to get the most out of them. and forgoing the little bit of pocket money the cleaning jobs brought in won't really change my life.
i'm hoping to focus more time on my writing, drawing and painting as well. that's what i'm really here for. i can look for work later if i decide to stay, and that's a long way off. i have this one year free to focus on what i want to do, what i want to learn....as Mom and Maria say, i have to learn to say 'No!" or "Non!"
note newest link; English Osteopath. that is Rachael, whom i am currently housesitting for and the gal who has been kind enough to take me around town, get me liquored up, .....
sorry that my links were invisible for a bit there; thanks to brother Thomas for helping me with the goof up.
i may have a new enterprise to add to my already hectic schedule...toting Irish expats around to look for property, translating, etc.
and through some odd twist relating to the great potato famine, mom may qualify for an Irish passport, thus making me applicable as well and under EU status. well, i'll be damned. those crazy micks might be alright.
the Mistral winds are blowing hard today, even though the sun is shining fiercly. regardez! knickers everywhere!
i am begining my house sitting today, have the luxury of a computer in the house...but a french keyboard, so forgive the typos. i am "flat sitting" for Rachael, the British osteopath mom intorduced me too, she has gone to Barbados for two weeks, left her dear old dog Napoleon in my charge. Ruby is thrilled to have the company! they are running about the garden too and fro...first a ginger streak, then a black one and back again!
forgive my brit speak too...that is easier to pick up around here than french!
the gorgeous views are above the rooftops. the old town (vieulle) of Nice; a long winding walk, steeper in spans of minutes, above the street then above the road and then again above the rooftops, and then above the sea....Nice, like all French cities, has a colosal ferris wheel....lights on, golden sparkles in the golden light as the sun sets over the sea and behind the mountains at once...it is the magic of the geography...the sun setting, reflecting, glowing all around. and viewing all this with a boy no less.
and then the little gendarme in the blue and white uniform blows his whistle at exactly 6pm to tell you the park is closing, you must leave at once. unfortunate, but what a grand uniform for the little gatekeeper.
(the boy could have picked up a hint or two about dressing from him.)