PERDUE IN TIME AND SPACE AND LANGUE

HOW WAS IT?

         It was refreshing to be home for Christmas and surrounded by family and friends and familiar things. I was excited to come back to Paris, but it was hard to say goodbye to people. I’m looking forward to moving back to the Twin Cities this summer.

ALLER

         My trip back to the United States went less than smoothly. The gist:

         I arrived at CDG airport on time but the crew was late for work (frenchest thing I ever did hear). We departed 1 ½ hours late and I missed my connecting flight in DC. Then Customs. Then I ran in circles, jumped through flaming hoops, trying to get home same day -meanwhile assisting elderly French woman who spoke NO English and was also seeking a flight to Minneapolis.

4 hours, 5 long lines and 6 failed attempts later, Serendipity/Fate/Chance/WhatHaveYou lead me to a gate governed by the very same Delta rep I first talked to hours before on the opposite side of airport. She took pity on me, did computer magic tricks with a coworker and somehow gave me a seat on the only direct flight to Minneapolis (one I’d been repeatedly told was full). I got home at 9pm to hugs and drinks and snacks with my parents. THE END.

RETOUR

         Compared to the first trip, my return flight to Paris was relatively painless. The only real annoyance was an American lady who kept coming to make bland conversation with the woman seated behind me. She would lean down real hard on the top of my seat as if I wasn’t there, resting her elbow on my head and occasionally pulling my hair as she readjusted. While I was trying to sleep, of course. Mean-mugging was ineffective, but she went away eventually. Still, there were no screaming babies, no crazy turbulence and I actually liked the in-flight movie. 

GOOD EATS AT 30,000 FEET

         I know that “gourmet airline food” is an oxymoron, but that’s what AirFrance serves. There was champagne as an aperitif, free beer and wine, multiple courses, all the French bread you want and espresso after. At the end of our flight they gave us a cheese sandwich and a yogurt drink that aids digestion. Leave it to AirFrance to care about digestion on an airplane!

Not my meal, but not far from it. 

         Even flying to Paris, Delta raised the food standards up a notch. They had free beer and wine and served multiple courses. However, there was no champagne or baguette and the snack at the end of the flight was peanuts and an egg-mcmuffin (for the record, this did not help digestion).

GOLD, FRANKINCENSE AND ALMOND PASTE

         Fellow Americans, did you know that we are half-assing the winter holidays? Because I did not. I always thought that we were the x-mas champions. But, it turns out that the 12 days of Christmas start on the 25^th and this whole time we’ve been skipping the finale.  In France, not only do they have all of the consumerism and the carols and the santa stuff, but after the 25^th, they have a whole other celebration coming (and no, I don’t mean New Years).

         It’s called the Epiphany. Epic name AND it includes cake! One of the perks that comes with being a previously super Catholic country. The wisemen in our Christmas story get a song and cameo in the Nativity plays, but that’s about it. Here they get their own day (January 6^th) and a whole set of traditions including champagne and, most importantly, a cake filled with almond paste.

         They hide a little figurine in this “galette des rois” and whoever finds it in their slice gets to be the “King of the Day.” To the best of my understanding, this means you get to wear a paper crown and be a total dictator. Why have we not been doing this?

ANOTHER DIFFERENCE I'VE NOTICED BETWEEN MINNEAPOLIS AND PARIS

It’s been 50 degrees here in Paris this week. If this happens in Minneapolis, it means slushy snow. In Paris, there is no slushy snow because it disappears so fast, but there is an awful lot of slushy poop. I like to think it’s dog poop, but I’m really not sure.

FRENCH CELEBRITY QUIZ: 2010

Name this guy

Yesterday, I was talking with one of my classes about the Time Magazine “Person of the Year” and I asked them if they had anything similar in France. They said no, not exactly, but each year a newspaper does a vote and makes a list of the top 50 most popular celebrities. Every year the “Person of the Year” is the same guy.

Who’s that?

“Yannick Noah.” They said, as if it was obvious.

uhh…who?

They said the name slower for me and even spelled it out.

…nope

“He’s a tennis player turned pop singer.”

….

“His son is Joakim Noah.”

…Who?

Now they were REALLY disgusted with me.

“Joakim plays for the Chicago Bulls!”

Mr. Scottie Pippen

Still no. I had a huge crush on Scottie Pippin when I was 8, but my interest in the Chicago Bulls ended circa 1997.

They found this unbelievable, and I was a little shocked myself.

The most popular celebrity in France for years and I had no idea who he was!

         They named off some others who frequent the Top Ten list, including Zinedine Zidane. I didn’t know his name before, but I did know that a French player had headbutted an Italian player in the 2006 World Cup and that was him, so maybe that gets me half credit.

         When I got home I searched the 2010 list and researched them all. It’s not news to me that the French know more about our celebrities than we do about theirs, but I hadn’t realized quite how bad it was until this. Fellow Americans, how many people on this list do you know without google searching? I only knew one.

1. Yannick Noah

2. Zinedine Zidane

3. Mimie Mathy

4. Dany Boon

5. Michel Sardou

6. Gad Elmaleh

7. Jean Dujardin

8. Charles Aznavour

9. Florence Foresti

10. Jean Reno

OUTSIDE OF ALL THAT

         I’m slowly getting back in the groove here. Before I left, I didn’t realize that the sun doesn’t rise here until 8:40am. I had gradually become accustomed to it before, but now I can’t help but notice and find the dark mornings oppressive. It’s like being part-time nocturnal. On Thursday, I’m ¾ of the way done with leading my first class before the sun is up. Gross.

On the otherhand, it’s 50 degrees and I can run outside without getting my socks wet or wiping out on ice, so it’s a trade off. Yadda yadda yadda weather weather weather

I finally got my letter from French Immigration calling me in for my medical exam. They wait 3 months to contact me and choose, literally, the ONE day I have a conflict in the rest of the 4 months I’m here. It’s for the Monday morning I’m supposed to be in Brussels. I just bought my tickets a couple days ago. And the return trip is non-refundable. Pas de chance. More on this later when I figure out what to do.

later y’all!