La grenouille mange le pamplemousse

29 days and counting...

2008-06-03T03:05:00.002Z

It's 5am on Tuesday morning, I have about 10 assignments due in over the next 2 and a half weeks, so what else would I be doing but updating my blog that I haven't touched in two months? Cooking mini pizzas and re-heating cold sausages is what! (Denny's Gold Medal Sausages courtesy of parents, mini pizzas provided by Cocci Market).
It is very very strange to think that almost a year has gone by since I started this (awful, poorly thought out, and neglected) blog. Also very strange was booking a one-way flight for my return home (1st July!!!). With less than a month left, most of which will be spent with me panicking at 7am when I have a presentation due in an hour and haven't slept yet, I'm very anxious to charge up my camera battery and wander around Paris for a day or two, soaking it all up before I go home, because whilst the vast majority of my encounters with Frenchies have been bad ones (although over the past few months things are evening up), I will definitely miss the city itself. In the rain it's not so pretty but when the sun shines it's bloody gorgeous :)
So over the next week I'm going to sit down and make a list of things I need to do and see before I leave, because as much as I may want to, with a busy year ahead I doubt I'll get many opportunities to come back and visit (although if I want to do so at least I know people I can crash with!). Also I need to buy shoes. Can't leave Paris without buying nice shoes.
Overall I have very few regrets about the year, starting out was very tough, and in retrospect I would have done a lot better had I just thrown myself into it, but that's easy to say now I suppose. I also probably should have wandered about a bit more, did lots of wandering last summer and really enjoyed it (apart from that one time where I misread the map and we ended up in Chinatown), and I wish I could have made the most of the sunny days we've had so far but I blame Sciences-Po on that one for keeping me indoors working on exposés and fiches and the like.
I'm sure there's more to say so I'll write a more comprehensive summary blog when I leave, for now it's back to asking whether or not we can consider politics as a profession...oh the joys..

@+
Nikki

On an aside..

2008-04-05T15:57:00.002Z

I forgot to mention, I hate being grown up, dealing with electricity and phone bills with the added complication of them being in the previous tenant's name (and therefore bank account) and having to go through the whole process in French is NOT easy OR fun!

Kilmeaden Red Cheddar cheese, please

2008-04-05T15:36:00.005Z

Thought it was about time for another post, given that, well, I've been neglecting this blog for a while..god knows what I'd be like as a mother, anyway..

Since I last wrote, I've had exams, and I have no idea how I did because they STILL haven't given us our results! Which I would really appreciate because if I failed anything it means I've failed the year as a whole, so I might as well stop going to college and just go out and do fun stuff :) This semester is a little easier, not work-wise but just in so far as I'm much more used to the workload and what's expected of us etc. That said, I think my new laid-back attitude is only going to mean I do worse but I guess time will tell.

Since myself and Chris have come to the sudden realisation that we don't actually have that much time left here, we've decided to take advantage of having an apartment relatively near to town and all to ourselves and have more parties, much to the disgruntlement of our neighbour downstairs. Emma and MP (people who had the apartment before us) had warned us about the wench that lives in the apartment below ours, who apparently complained at them just walking around the apartment, saying she had a very small baby and they were making too much noise etc. So when we first moved in we expected a good few knocks on the door, but heard absolutely nothing. It turned out that she wasn't in fact there, and that it was only her (elderly and not easily bothered) mother who was in the apartment...

...until a few weeks ago, when wench-face with annoying baby moved back in. Since then we've had a few complaints, nothing major but enough to make us realise she's a wench. We wouldn't mind only her baby NEVER stops crying so it's a bit cheeky for her to be complaining so much, but I shmoozed her when she came around last time all worried about the fact that we were gonna have a party, so I think she's less pissed at us now...I hope.. (we're having a party in 3 weeks)

I'm sure there's a lot more stuff to put down here but I'll do it when I don't have a presentation on Nazi foreign policy to give in a week :)

Nikki

p.s. send me Denny's sausages please :)

p.p.s. big thank you goes out to Irwin who brought me lots of food when he came over for Easter.

p.p.p.s. Evil eyes for Irwin who ate half of what he brought me :)

update!!!!!!!

2008-01-28T01:02:00.000Z

So it's been a fair few months now since my last post, but I don't think anyone cares so I'm not feeling too guilty.
College-wise things are ok-ish. I knew before coming over here that Sciences-Po is meant to be tough but I don't think we were sufficiently warned about the level and amount of work required from us. The one good thing I can take from this is that it's going to prepare me for final year which I'm hoping I won't find as difficult...maybe? Famous last words, I know...
It was bizarre coming back to Paris after almost 3 weeks of being at home over the Christmas holiers, but nice in a way because I've gotten so used to our area etc. Although only today did I realised that there are in fact alimentations (grocery stores) open on a Sunday evening just down the road from us. It doesn't sound that impressive, I know, but trust me, when you're hungry on a Sunday evening and all you have in the fridge is some yoghurt, spring onions, and half a bottle of milk you really appreciate it.
Despite all my complaining about bureaucracy, rude people etc (which still all stands, by the way), when I take a little time off work to just walk around or stare out the window I start to properly appreciate how lucky I am to be living here, because if you ignore the people and stay away from offices, Paris is a really beautiful and impressive place.
Once again I extend the invitation for anyone to come over and stay with us, although if you do plan on coming over..maybe give us a call first, because neither Chris nor I answer the door any more, following a few unfortunate incidents involving strange men looking up our chimney (which is out of use) and then trying to charge us €85 for the pleasure.
Until next time...

Proper Crimbo!

2007-11-27T21:33:00.000Z

The thought occured to me as I saw how Parisians seem to be slowly but surely adopting Halloween as a holiday, what's Christmas going to be like? After all, we're talking about a country where their public library stays open all day Christmas Day as I'm sure a few other places do too, all in the name of the secular state, but I was happy to see that they seem to put up the same type of crap that we do, yay!

Outside our window(s) (the bedrooms and sitting room face the street) there are Christmas lights hanging between the buildings and the decorations were all put up on the Monoprix shelves at least 2 weeks ago. I decided that, seeing as I wont be around to decorate my own Christmas tree at home, I should buy our OWN christmas tree! So now we have a mini (real!) christmas tree in our sitting room that goes up to about the height of my waist! At the moment it's looking a little forlorn, it's one thing to splash out on a tree but buying decorations was pushing it a little :p So there's also tinfoil, cardboard and sciccors lying on the table, waiting for either me or Chris to suddenly be blessed with a creative streak :D (something tells me that tree is going to be naked for a while).

In other news, I'm finding that I have nooo idea what's going on in the world, and had to be told by 2 people that there was violent attacks against the police going on in Paris? A little confused, because I hand't seen any of this, we asked Baptiste (or Baps, as we call him) and it turns out there's a whole ruckus going on with people burning creches etc. But if any of you were worried (you clearly arent, screw you), it's all out in the suburbs, and there's a big motorway that circles the city of Paris so we're protected by that :)

Talking of motorways..i HATE french drivers! Like, they have ads up telling pedestrians to not cross where there's no pedestrian crossing..do you know WHY we dont cross there mr government man?! because drivers seem to see it as an opportunity to run us over! i swear to god, the green man could be on and you could hold up a red sign in front of their car window and they wouldn't stop driving..they might even speed up. bastards. And whilst a few months ago I might have been quite timid about it and let the big bully cars have their way I've started realising that I'm becoming kinda French in my ways, i.e. shouting and cursing at them using indignant facial expressions and rude hand gestures..and after theyve driven off, grumbling and muttering to myself. Im hoping Ill snap out of it by the time I go home-in 22 days! yay!

In the meantime I'm going to enjoy smelling my mini christmas tree and singing christmas songs :)

oh là là!

2007-10-27T21:31:00.002Z

Was watching a clip of chabal refusing to answer a question in english during an interview (look for it on Youtube, it's priceless) when I was reminded of the France v England match we watched at the Champs de Mars. It dawned on me that this blog has centred around college/funny incidents/muslims/chinese men masturbating in public and I really haven't given you lot any idea of what the Frenchies themselves are like.

You know all those stereotypes you have in your head of how the French people are? IT'S ALL TRUE.

yup, lots of "oh là là"-ing, carry baguettes everywhere they go, always wear long coats and scarfs (especially the guys, and sometimes with hats too), their dancing was acceptable in the ay-tees, they are rude and push you/hit you without apologising, they scoff lots, they rarely drink full pints but half ones(what's the point if you're gonna have six of em?!)..I realise that these are all negative stereotypes..so to balance it up a little, they have lovely food and very very very cheap wine.

Anyway, back to the rugger, we were at the champs de mars for the big match where literally thousands of frenchies were sitting down (in a very orderly fashion, think back to primary school assemblies and the like) in front of a load of big screens. Same situation in Ireland things would be a lot different: Spike, not the Eiffel Tower, standing and pushing about and falling over, not sitting down cross-legged and quiet, cans of dutch and doritos..not, and I could not believe this: bringing whole blocks of cheese, with a knife! and a huge baguette! and bottles of wine (opened with bottle openers and not keys). So typically French I couldn't believe it.

When my parents came to visit they somehow only managed to meet really polite and helpful and cheery frenchies, no idea how, but for any of you planning to visit, don't feel bad about having those preconceptions...completely justified.

much ado about nothin

2007-10-24T14:18:00.001Z

Apologies to anyone who cares about this blog (mark) for not updating it for such a long time, but really there was very little to say!

I LOVE ikea. is possibly the best thing since kilmeadan red cheddar cheese (thankyou to mum and dad and alli and sybil for bringing some over!). Had to restrain myself when I went shopping there from spending a ridiculous amount on furniture. I needed a new desk for my room (the one I had was literally, garden furniture) and although it cost 60 euros to get it delivered to my apartment and despite the fact that it took me 5 hours to assemble I am very happy with my purchase. it even has drawers! and a slidey-out thing for your keyboard! amazing. I also got a swivel chair which provides me with endless hours of entertainment.

Very strange going out to the place though, which is near Charles de Gaulle airport. It was in an industrial park but the closest I've been to anything resembling a suburb since I got here, lots of green trees and big spaces, it kinda reminded me of the Pavillions at Swords for some reason. It made me realise I need to get out of the city a bit more often, and also reminded me of how much I miss the sea so I'll be heading straight for dollymount when I get home :D

Almost have all my admin stuff sorted now (it's only been 2 months :S ), still need to get our landlady to sign the CAF forms (free money from the french government!) and also need to get my learning agreement signed but can only do that when I find out who I have to go to. which may take a while, these people don't like to be contacted it seems.

Also, very good news, we got our carte imagine-Rs!!! (metro cards that you can SWIPE!) seriously, you can leave them inside your bag and just run your bag over the little sensor thing and badda bing badda boom you're on the metro. this is one of the reasons I like Paris :D The novelty is never gonna wear off with that one...

We're thinking of having a halloween party chez nous (thanks for the decorations mum!) because it's not really celebrated properly over here so we thought we'd introduce the frenchies to the idea of free sweets and fire hazards.still trying to come up with an idea for a costume so if you have any let me know.

Also I was wrong with our address, its 4 rue Damrémont (not daUmrémont), so yeah, any trashy magazines, chocolate, dennys gold medal sausages..all welcome at ours :)

new gaf

2007-10-06T12:31:00.000Z

We've moved away from psycho cafe dude and the muslims! (the muslims I will miss, psycho cafe dude not so much).
Finally after all our searching/crying/tears/sweat/blood/phone calls in french we've moved into our new apartment, which we found through friends and not through any of those unhelpful anglophone magazines. Initially I had thought that the apartments advertised were rented out really quickly, anytimes I called up I got a standard reply of "non! c'est déja loué" (no! it's already rented out)...turns out that it's only because they detect a foreign accent and are a little bit wary of foreign students that they automatically say no to us. One woman in particular who I was calling about an apartment she was renting out in the 11th, near our old place, was..well, a racist. The conversation seemed to be going ok, until she asked where I was from. As soon as I said "Irlande" she gave an abrupt "non" and hung up the phone. RACIST!!!
Anyway, as they say, when that protestant god of mine closes a door he opens a window, and im now typing this while using the very fast internet connection (score), listening to cars drive by (through my open fancy window with a wrought iron rail on the balcony) on my..fold out bed. which I think is broken (through no fault of my own...you know who you are), but I can't complain, we have DOORS! (a novelty for myself and Chris). Needless to say, am quite content..

Apart from the fact that I've started doing Law through French with second year french law students. Being the only foreign student in the class is very daunting, and I'm sure the prof's jokes would have been hilarious if I'd understood them..but I think I only managed to grasp about 5% of what he said during the 2 hours. In a way this is good because it means I can claim ignorance when it comes to homework. Please god he doesn't read this.

Claire came to visit me on Tuesday (hi!), bringing back memories of times past when she spooned me in bed every night/morning after we came home from work. It was a little bit sad in a way because I used to associate Paris with not having to worry about academic stuff and instead enjoy wandering around the city or bask in the company of the pompiers as they brought me to hospital. Having said that, I'm hoping once I settle into the course and college a bit more things will get easier. If not...well..it might mean I have to repeat the year, which I hope would mean another year abroad...it's really a win-win situation.

Not a whole lot else has been happening, if anyone feels like sending me kilmeaden red cheddar cheese or cadburys chocolate or dennys gold label sausages my new address is 4 rue daumrémont, 75018 PARIS. :D

waiting in line

2007-09-17T06:58:00.001Z

Apologies for the lack of updating, things have been kind of busy and also I like to leave Mark hanging...

As I type I am sitting in the cafe next door to our apartment which has internet, nervously waiting for 10am to hit when I choose my courses for college. Sounds ridiculous, I mean, who the hell gets up at 8am in the morning to do that? Well it's about as ridiculous as the system Sciences-Po have in place. Registration for courses is done online, but the places in each class are very very limited, so everybody goes to the internal website of sciences-po at 10am and violently clicks at the screen in an effort to secure their places in their preferred class. I can only compare it to trying to buy tickets for a popular gig. So here I am, fingers poised ready to fend off my competition/friends, and I have an inkling they will actually start a little bit before 10am which is why I'm up so early.

As for life in Sciences-Po itself, well, there hasn't been that much of it so far. As a guy I was standing beside in one of the many queues I have been in this week said to me, I feel like I'm here to queue and sign forms rather than actually learn anything. It took two hours to register for college! 2 hours!! But aside from queuing etc. for the past two weeks we've had 3 hours of French class everyday and then various activities outside class hours. Our teacher was brilliant, lovely guy who also seemed quite concerned with how we were settling in and not just with our level of French. For the next two weeks we have 2 hours of "methodology" class every day. "what??!!" I hear you say..well this college is very very very (scarily) specific about how you are to present your work, whether it be an oral presentation, essay/dissertation, resume etc. there are very specific guidelines that, if not followed, can cost you passing the class. which obviously isn't that desirable.

The activities have been pretty good so far, if not kinda badly organised. Last week I went to a Hamaam massage parlour..now I didn't actually do the Hamaam part, because it was hot enough outside without going into what is essentially a steam room. I did get the massage tho, which was...good but a bit greasy. quite greasy. It was a bizarre experience; I can only describe the place as being like your granny's house. There was a sort of breakfast bar where you could serve yourself a cup of tea, which was in a room with a few couches and chairs where everyone was wandering around in their towels either waiting on or enjoying the feeling of having just had a massage.

The other international students seem really nice, only problem is we have yet to meet the french ones..which might be a bit of a downer..i've heard plenty of stories about how they resent us erasmus folk because we haven't had to work since birth to get to Sciences-Po. I'll reserve judgement for the moment though, it's only going to come back to bite me in the ass.

Apartment-wise I am beginning to realise that sharing a 2 person apartment with two other girls is doable..with two other guys not so much..Myself and Chris are waiting on an apartment of some friends to follow through but things arent completely definite so I'm getting a bit nervous because we're going to be kicked out of our place on the 4th october. Usually in these situations I tend to rely on the "it'll all work out in the end" approach but theres a little man inside my head telling me that I should get a move on and try to find somewhere, it's just quite hard with all this other administrative stuff for college to take care of. So I am appealing to anyone reading this blog to find myself and Chris a 2 bedroomed apartment...fast!

Oh and it turns out that psycho neighbour turned nice neighbour IS actually a pscyho, which makes it hard to come to here (the cafe where hes the chef) because anytime I come in here to use skype or check emails I generally get harassed by him. Not sexually, but with cheesecake..which I don't like..and don't want to taste because a) it might be spiked with god knows what and b) I don't want to owe him any favours! (maybe a bit too late after the washing machine thing)

Anyway, the time has come to (push the button) and try to register for these courses. wish me luck!

back for more

2007-09-04T19:36:00.000Z

Well, I hadn't intended to continue with this blog, but the same two people who were angry when I didn't update it before gave out to me for ever thinking of ditching the thing so here I go again...

I've been back for a week now, in our old apartment until the 4th October by which stage I'm meant to have found another apartment to move into with Chris (guy in my course who's also gonna be in Paris...arrives in 2 days) and I have to say it's kinda strange being back without my lovely girls Emma and Claire (and the later (very welcome) addition of Aine and Mark). Having told me that the local baker was asking after me after I left one of the first things I did once I got here was to go say hi to him, and to my surprise he recognized me...as did the guy in the internet cafe across the road...as did the psycho neighbour (have actually discovered he is not in fact a psycho but a really lovely neighbour to have), so the move over was made a lot easier as there was little "settling in" to be done. It also helped that my parents took it upon themselves to have me "properly set up" and after helping me up the 4 flights of stairs with my bags (I am forever indebted to you dad) they then went off to the shops and came back with 3 bags full...of food and goodies and cleaning supplies (trust me, if you saw the state of the apartment you'd be excited about getting a bottle of cif too!)

Have to say that this time around the organisation end of things was a little more hap-hazard. Our landlady is now in Canada, as opposed to India, and yet for some reason finds it harder to get to an internet cafe. So upon arrival I still had no idea where I was going to get the key for the apartment. As it turned out the cleaner, who was celebrating her 25th birthday that day, had it, and so her poor mother (the concierge) had to call her back to give it to me. We also then discovered that the washing machine was still broken, which was a bit of a pain in the ass but is now fixed, yipee!

I didn't even have to call a plumber. Our previously psycho but now I have decided reeally really nice and helpful neighbour called in one night to say hello and also show 2 of his friends around the apartment because theyre thinking of renting it after us. Once I told him about the washing machine he said he'd call a friend about it and lo and behold 2 days later himself and a guy with a screwdriver call around at 10 in the morning (its hard to be grateful when you've been woken up,hope I wasnt too rude!) and within an hour the thing had been fixed up and for only €40 at that. Very impressed.

So that was a welcome surprise. But also moving over this time has been quite different in so far as when Emma and I first came here, all naive and laden down with luggage, we were slightly put off by the apparent dodgy-ness of our area: beggars on the street (who now smile and say hello to me as I go past), rubbish everywhere (it adds to the ambiance), burka outfitters (am considering asking for one to be made in pink) and pervy men (god bless em). But having then spent 7 weeks here over the summer I came to realise that our little quartier was really quite lovely and I feel quite at home here.
What I find kind of amusing is the two quite chic wine bars/cafes either side of our apartment, they really are so out of place, and it's obvious that it's not just the locals who come here but that there are regulars from different and probably much more upper-class parts of Paris. The mix of the two is bizarre, but that's the thing about Paris, you will find a mix of the very poor and the very well off in the same area, so coming here for the first time you might find it slightly confusing when trying to get a proper handle on the place.
Another thing that I learned over the summer is that Paris is a surprisingly safe city. The areas that taximen and guidebooks have advised me to stay clear of have never lived up to their bad reputation. (Maybe with the exception of around Gare du Nord). I don't think it's down to naivety either, the fact is the place is too populated to have any really dodgey areas. If you walked past our road you might think twice about going down it but there are simply too many people around for any muggings/attacks to take place, that even goes for night time.

As for college itself, I started on Monday, and queueing seems to be the order of the day. They didn't have my name on the list for the french classes held as part of the integration course this month...they also didn't have about 100 other students' names on it either. We waited 2 and a half hours to be seen by two of the course coordinators who told us that our french was good enough that we didn't need an integration course (in actual fact it's because they didn't have enough places for us all) but having paid €300 each for the pleasure we insisted on being put in a class. I think the idea was that we would go on strike if they started being assholes about it...the french love that sort of thing.
The French bureaucracy's reputation for thoroughness and effectiveness didn't really prove itself in this case.That said, queueing for that amount of time really encourages bonding between students and I made some good friends as we whined about the silly system.

The Irish contingent have already gained a bad reputations, being the only ones to suggest going on a piss-up on the first day. We'll convert them yet..

In the meantime I'm caught up with a lot of paper signing and form completing. Apparently I still need to register in college, choose my courses, get my student-rate Metro ticket, apply for the French housing grant, connect my computer to the college network and then there's that small issue of finding an apartment in 4 weeks...

Yours stressfully,

Nikki

Guess where we're going today?..

2007-07-19T07:50:00.000Z

DISNEYLAND!!!!

That's right, aged 20 we are getting up at 10am and heading out on the RER line A4 to the wonderful world of dreams that is the Disneyland Resort Paris (formerly Eurodisney but renamed in an effort to boost the popularity of the park). What's unnerving me, apart from the fact that Emma plans on making me go on all the scary rides, is the fact that I can say I've been somewhere (foreign) ten years ago. This year is the park's 15th anniversary and I have vivid (and colourful) memories of its 5th, when the castle at the entrance was decorated with a big '5' on the front. And at the young-ish age of 20 being able to say that I've been there 10 years ago makes me feel older than I am. Ironically, I believe the one way to fix this is to relive my childhood and go to a theme park...

Another amusing fact is that the lovely people at the Disneyland Resort Paris now have a special online deal where you can get cheaper tickets...so long as you go through the buying process in French - very typical of the French mentality.

As far as Paris goes, I'm growing more and more attached by the day. We went on a random walk around the centre of town and accidentally stumbled upon the Louvre (the glass pyramid of which is slightly less impressive than the Da Vinci Code had led me to believe and also a tiny little shop that sold Russian dolls and had one of the most impressive window displays I've ever seen (we even took pictures like proper tourists for once). Admittedly I'm not very well-travelled but I'd challenge anyone to find a city as beautiful or as contradictory as Paris. Contradictory is probably the wrong word to use, and I may have also spelled it wrong, but what I'm trying to say is how you can have the very rich and the very poor living on the same street, or how you can have a very hip and trendy jazz bar on our street which (not to worry the parents) isn't the safest, or jazz-bar friendly. It really is a fascinating place.

In other good and work-related news, we've now been put behind the bar in O'Sullivans, rather than working on the floor as waitresses. I'm actually making (really bad) cocktails! It's definitely more of a challenge, not only because I have absolutely no bar experience (may or may not have lied to get this job) but because you have to hide any fear or stress and put on a particularly brave face when confronted with an order you don't understand or one that you simply mess up. I prefer working the floor in a way because I can dance and work at the same time and there's a lot more interaction with the customers, although this has its disadvantages (as I've outlined in previous postings). Behind the bar you are the showman/person(let's be politically correct here) and you better be a damn good one if you want to get tips from the generally nonplussed french.

Time is moving swiftly and I am very sad to be leaving in 12 days but am now more resolute than ever to see and do as much as possible in that time. This may involve not sleeping (sorry again to parents), but Paris is totally worth it. Step 1: See Mickey Mouse...

2007-07-15T22:37:00.000Z

After numerous requests that I update the blog (and by numerous I mean two), I've decided to give in.

In my defence, the main reason I haven't added anything is that we are finally settling into a routine over here, with work, taking turns in cooking (turns out we are all amazing and plan on holding several more dinners chez nous -can you say "pretentious"?!) and doing the regular shopping (Monoprix, holder of all things good, cheap and necessary), and none of this seems particularly blog-worthy. The following follows no logical train of thought, but I never promised that this blog would be a good one so I don't feel like I'm letting any of you down really :)

With only two weeks left before I head home again to sort things out for college next year, the pressure is on to find an apartment, but it's not the easiest of tasks. Only yesterday I turned up to view one and found 10 other people waiting in the courtyard for the owner who never arrived. It sounded absolutely perfect, very central, spacious, near shops etc., so I was surprised when I saw that the rent was quite low given all of that...until I walked down the street it was on and within 20m had passed by 3 of the most prostituty-looking prostitutes I'd ever seen in my life. This is what they're warning you about when they say in the apartment description that the area is "mixed". Although it was a pain in the ass trekking around for half an hour trying to find the place, the further 3/4 of an hour wait gave me an opportunity to practice my french on complete randomers, which went surprisingly well. So even though I went home apartment-less I also left with a higher opinion of myself :D

Improving my french is partly why I came over during the summer, so at this stage I'm becoming more conscious of the fact that it hasn't improved that much and that I'm going to have to start making a concerted effort if I'm to survive next year at all. Thus far most of my new vocabularly isn't the sort of stuff you'd find in political science essays, but then again I don't suppose those sort of conversations are commonplace in one of the biggest tourist pubs in Pigalle/Montmartre. I am, however, developing my use sarcasm and wit in the language, if only in response to the assholes who frequent the pub:

"Uhh...youu noo zaat it haz been zirty zeconndes zince youu arr last at ow-ar tay-buhl?" (one frenchman's oh-so-witty way of telling me to piss off)

my reply (to clarfy, I said this in French not English):

"I am dreadfully sorry sir, that's terrible service, I'll try to make it back in 15 next time" (so there, hah!)

Even with the lack of progress in the language department though, coming over here has been one of the best decisions I've made, and now that I have a fairly OK knowledge of the city and have made a few friends (in important places - i.e. bouncers and barmen) I feel a lot more comfortable about staying here next year.

The trip has also given me a proper idea of what it's going to be like sharing an apartment with someone, although I have to say that I could not have asked for better housemates. It's like a cartoon in a way, one blonde (allbeit fake), one red-head (also not natural colour), one brunette living and working together, but it has worked out really well. The three of us just all seem to automatically know when we need to spend time apart and not be tripping over each other in the apartment, and we all tend to agree on what sights we want to go see etc., so I've been really lucky, especially given the fact that I didn't know Claire until she came to live with us, and now we're occasional sleeping partners (she takes up the whole bed...cow). However this does mean that for the upper management in O'Sullivans the three of us aren't really distinct from one another -"the three irish girls" - and as a result the timetabling of our hours can get a little mixed up.

Parisian men never cease to amaze us. One of the funnier incidents this week happened when Claire and Emma were walking down beside the Seine (I love being able to say that so casually), and came across a chinese man giggling beside a tree, in broad daylight and in plain view of any passers-by...pleasuring himself. No joke.
Another one on the metro starting waving hello and asking if he could "have one of us".
On a more serious and slightly worrying note, Emma was followed from Monoprix to the Metro station by a dodgey looking old man who asked her (you will not believe this) "do you come here often?" in French.
But we all look out for each other and if one of us is working a late shift the other two will go to collect her, all very "sisters are doing it for themselves".

And on a very happy note, the weather has picked up, and daytimes are scorchingly hot. Even as I write this at 1.30am we're having to keep all the windows open and a fan going. Bed sheets and duvets no longer serve any purpose. Finally the parisian summer we were promised has arrived. If you want to come over and enjoy it with us anyone is welcome at our place, so long as you bring some food...

15 days left :(

Achievements

2007-07-01T06:54:00.001Z

Rob and Irwin came to stay with us for a few days.

(see comments on previous entry for explanation of random sentence)

We have all just gotten back from work (it's 9am, there's something very wrong about going to bed at this hour, but it just seems oh so very right) and dear god it was one hell of a night. The problem with the pub we work in is that there's a really huge turnover in staff because noone stays for very long (the hours are shit, most people are only visitng Paris for a certain length of time etc.) so tonight two of the more...lively....characters were leaving us and as such there was lots of drunken fun.

Now I've never seen the film Coyote Ugly, but Emma and Claire assure me that the dancing I was doing on top of the bar as we all got hosed down with tonic water was as close as I'm going to get to being in the movie. Very proud of ourselves. That said, at the beginning of my shift it was turning out to be one of the worst nights I've had there because the French are SO BLOODY OBNOXIOUS!!! I was workin in the "VIP" section (you pay extortionate prices for bottles of spirits and you get to sit in a cordoned off area...big woop..) which basically means that the clientele (ooh, look at that, french word!) are yuppie-ish coked-off-their-heads too rich for their own good/liver rude rude rude people. One woman actually went so far as to poke me forcefully in my face because it turned out someone had stolen their bottle of vodka. That said the dancing seemed to rid me of all negative vibes (you should try it some time...but only if you have good balance, those bars are slippy).

In other achievement news, I didn't even read the map and I got the directions back to our house right while Emma and Rob insisted on getting lost. Nikki: 1 Parisian Streets/Emma: 0.

Achievement the third: we got to ride on a carousel! Right in the centre of Paris in the Jardins de Thuiliers (very pretty park) there's a big funfair which will be there for a month. The guy was so taken by myself and Emma's (Claire was sunning herself in Nice at the time) obsession with the "pretty horsies" that he gave us a second ride for free. Brats we may be, but it was definitely worth it.

Fourth achievement this week: I cooked the best chicken/rice/risotto-y stir fry thingy ever! I really impressed myself, although the taste may have been something to do with the fact that the chicken wasnt quite defrosted? Or that I put a raw egg in? Who knows, none of us suffered any food poisoning and that's the main thing really.

Between work and cooking we've been doing a lot more exploring of Paris, and I can only say that I am so grateful for having 7 weeks here, because there is no way on earth you could take all of Paris in even over one or two weeks, the buildings in the centre of Paris especially are just astounding, and what's more impressive is the Parisians' apparent indifference towards them, while we wander about staring around us in awe (thereby making ourselves prime targets for mugging..not so smart a move).

Our plans for next week involve going to see Harry Potter (!!! they have it in the english version!!!), going to Disneyland, and doing a bit of matchmaking. All very culturally educational I promise.

Until next time...

And then there were three...

2007-06-26T13:05:00.000Z

Staying true to my original promises, I have failed to update this blog for about a week, so apologies to anyone who wanted to be kept up to date with what's going on over here!

Our third housemate Claire joined us last Tuesday (myself and Emma panicked after only realising the night on Monday night that she was coming the next day, and not Wednesday...whoopsy). So I made my way out to meet her at Charles de Gaulle (train lines actually go to airports over here!!) and was very very happy to find out that she kicked our asses in the excess luggage thing, paying 120 euros for hers...I was very impressed. Chattered all the way back to the apartment about things that probably shouldn't be said in public, but we figured everyone around us was French...until Claire bumped against a man getting off the train who had been sitting beside us and he came out with "oh excuuse me ma'am" in an American drawl...again, whoopsy.

Claire has brought a whole new level of class to the apartment, and we've already had two very sophisticated "soirees", with her cooking up an absolute storm (stupid mistake Claire, you're going to be doing all the cooking from now on). Unfortunately the neighbours are not so enamoured with the idea of having dinner parties late into the night and we've had a few complaints, one man was particularly annoyed about the champage bottle left on the ground outside the apartment (I would point out that this wasnt actually ours because we keep our empties to make candle-holders - it saves on electricity) Today I plan to buy some bottles of champagne and buy their forgiveness. I hope they get the subtle irony.

Speaking of neighbours, we have a very strange one, who called up to our apartment saying he had heard people up there and was wondering if they were his american friends who used to live here. (I wondered why he wouldn't know if they had returned if he was such good friends with them). Turns out he is the cook in the cafe down the road from us, and after seeing me cooking pancakes obviously decided we needed better food than that and half an hour later (at this stage it was 3am) called back with a lunchbox of spaghetti bolognaise still warm from the oven. I took it (with no intention of eating it, it was obviously poisoned) and said thankyou, while also hinting heavily that he should now leave us alone. Five minutes later the doorbell rings again:

"Uh I am ver-y sorr-ee, I fur-got to ask youu, do you smoke cake?"

I'll be honest, I didn't have a clue what that meant, but seeing as I don't smoke anything I refused politely.

Since then I think he's taken the hint and has left us alone, although there was one very very awkward incident when he called in looking for the (what he thought would be empty) lunchbox back. Emma and Claire were frantically trying to dig out the cold spaghetti while I tried to stall him at the door, mumbling something about the place being a mess (I may well have used the word "messe" to do this which actually means mass, as in, church service).

Even after two weeks, Paris has not stopped impressing me. The other day we just "stumbled" upon the Pantheon by complete accident, and it's great to be in a city where you are constantly surrounded by amazing buildings and sights. From the Pantheon you can look down the road and see the Luxembourg gardens (amazing, especially on sunny days) with the Eiffel Tower in the background. I would take more photos but I don't think they'd do the place justice.

Work is going great, the crew are absolutely nuts, which I've come to realise you need to be when you're working shifts from 10pm - 7am on weekends. They are also alcoholics, and the fact that it's 7 o clock in the morning does not seem to deter them from going across the road to the other Cafe Oz for a few more shots.

At the moment I'm looking at apartments for next year when we'll need a place with doors between the rooms (7 weeks I can do, but 10 months with an "open plan" apartment might be more than I could take).

In the meantime please keep telling me about the bad weather at home, it makes me feel even better about being here :)

Working Girls

2007-06-18T13:24:00.000Z

Well, I don’t know who was wishing us luck on finding a job but you(se) did a damn good job. After only one and a half days dropping in CVs to Irish bars around Paris we were hired on Thursday by O’Sullivans – an Irish bar/club right next door to the Moulin Rouge. I would like to say we got hired because of our experience, good looks, wit and charm, but Emma had a contact there, and we were girls, which seems to be a big selling point around here.

Some might say we landed on our feet, because finding a job in Paris so early on is practically unheard of. I would contest that we actually deserved this success, given the happenings of the previous night. As I already said, we don’t live in the cushiest of areas, nevertheless we decided some exploring needed to be done and Emma wanted to find a park where she could do her running (motivation is not difficult when you’re running away from pervy men).

Now, I aced my Junior Cert. geography exam, and kicked ass when it came to those OS survey maps, so, assuring Emma that I knew exactly where we were going, I took the map and led the way. Mistake no.1. Apparently I cannot read maps. Ended up on side of a canal inhabited by various vagrants (even the hobos in Paris are classier than the ones in Dublin). Emma gently suggested we may be in the wrong place. Mistake no. 2. This only made me more determined to get us home the right way and without being mugged. So I decided to practise my French, and ask a biker how to get back to our street. Mistake no. 3. He hadn’t got a notion where the hell he was, let alone where we should be going. Decided to take his advice. Mistake no. 4. Should not have taken his advice. Getting quite dark at this stage, decided against taking Emmas (sound) advice of just going back the way we came and insisted we continue the way we were going. Mistake no. 5. Ended up in Chinatown at dusk, not having a clue how we ended up there or, more importantly, how we were going to get out of there. Decided to practise French again. Not a mistake, because we were eventually informed we were not, in fact, in the 11th arrondissement where our apartment is, but in the 10th and walking in the opposite direction to where we should be going. Although having been proven wrong several times at this stage, I still insisted that really, if you think about it, it was all Emma’s fault in the first place, because if she hadn’t wanted to find a place to run, we never would have left the apartment. I am totally right.

Anyway, moral of the story is the Metro is downright deadly because without it there was no way we were getting home unscathed. After this (mis)adventure we learned some very important lessons. No. 1: Emma should have the map at all times. No. 2: Nikki should never be allowed read the map. No. 3: We are totally streetwise hard-ass chicks who know how to handle themselves when faced with dodgey-lookin street-folk.

This all came after a funny incident earlier on in the day when we made a little detour from dropping around CVs and went shopping. We went into a lovely little boutique in the 6th arrondissement, near enough to where my university is for next year (on an aside, finally got the confirmation email and am now officially a student of Sciences-Po Paris!). The shop assistant reminded me of a friendly witch, with good fashion sense. When I approached her to ask if I could try on the four dresses I was holding she looked at me intently. Something about her expression made me feel not so much like a customer but a challenge. In one felled swoop, she snatched all four from me and thrust the black one against me.

“Look! How is your face? You are saaadddd…it is blaaack..What do you see?”

(I mumbled something about seeing black and the dress being pretty)

“Noo. Now take the red. You see? You are bright! You are happy!

(I did look happier in it, but it could have been me just grinning out of fear)

In the end I bought the red one (I kinda felt I had to after the amateur dramatics) using the excuse that I wanted to treat myself. Now, I was saying this in French. And I came out with the expression: “Je veux me traiter un peu”. As soon as I said this, the assistant and another french customer burst into laughter. It suddenly dawned on me that “treating myself” could come across as something very very different in french. Don’t ask me how, but I know what “se jouir” means (look it up, I’m not about to stain my blog with profanities), and so I asked her was that the equivalent of what I had just said. This sent her off laughing again. Apparently it wasn’t, but now having asked what it was I might as well have made the mistake in the first place. Smooth.

As I write this we’re getting ready to start our second shift in O’Sullivans, what is possibly the biggest and busiest pub in Montmartre. Montmartre, if you didn’t know already, is the sex district of Paris, so in a way we have ended up working near prostitution; success! I could try to explain what it’s like but I don’t think I could do the madness justice with words alone, you really need to visit the place to see what it’s like. I will say though that the crew are absolutely nuts, and we love them for it. Even the hard-ass bouncers were really friendly and welcoming, which made the transition from “holiday” to “working 10pm – 7am shifts holiday” a lot easier.

In the meantime, we are becoming Master chefs, even going so far as to “modify” the recipes given in the book…intentionally or otherwise.

None of us here have a digital camera so unfortunately pictures are only going to be up once we get some developed (hanging on the edge of your seats, I know).

Will update this again as soon as some more exciting stuff happens. Right now though there is some serious napping to be done…

L'arrivée

2007-06-12T19:48:00.000Z

Well, after sharing a flight with 40 eight year olds (all wearing red caps - all the better to aim at), we arrived in the outskirts of Paris yesterday morning, and after asking a few people where exactly it was that the Ryanair bus had dropped us (they don't tell you these things), we hopped on a few metros in search of an internet cafe where we could explain to our landlady that we didn't have aaaalll the rent money just quite yet.

The first thing that struck me as kind of odd, if not just anti-wheelchair users, was the fact that (and this may seem very naive of me) there are no lifts and hardly any escalators at metro stations. Now I didn't notice this because I'm one of those equality-loving hippies (no disrespect) but when you're carrying a 25kg case along with a big backpack for hand luggage going down those steep stairs is a bitch. Going up is even worse. So by the time we got to the centre of Paris and had found an internet café (the only one so far that had english keyboards) it was decided that a taxi to the apartment was the best idea.

The taxi ride gave us a chance to ask a few questions about the city, and I was happy to see driving through the 7th arrondissement (= Parisian district), where my university next year is, that it's a pretty nice area with lots of shops, so I'm thinking I'll be broke but happy. We did ask him what the area we're staying in would be like, to which he replied that it was pretty nice, but it worried me that he didn't seem overly enthusiastic. On arriving at the road the apartment is on we could see why. I think Emma put it best when she said "well at least it's only a 20 second walk to the Metro so we have way less chance of being attacked". The appartment is in a mini-courtyard type thing; basically it's a square of apartments looking into this courtyard so it's nice and quite once you get inside the front entrance to the courtyard.

The apartment is really targeted towards girls, very pink, very cosy, and quite higgeldy-piggeldy, with lots of french books all over the place so now we have no excuse not to improve our French. What wasn't fun was dragging aforementioned suitcases up 4 flights of wooden spiral stairs, I can only hope that bringing them down will be less dangerous?

I have to say, even though the area is a bit on the dodgey side, it means that I can really appreciate the nicer areas and at least I'm not completely oblivious to the "real" Paris that exists behind the touristy facades of some of the more leafy areas. By that I mean it's like a French person living in Fatima Mansions and being able to appreciate Grafton Street.

I would also reccommend a visit to Paris to any girl suffering from low self-esteem. What the guidebook says seems to hold true - that there are few mugggings/street attacks (touch wood), but that the Parisian men feel a certain duty to sexually harass (verbally) any young woman who passes their way. I'm glad that a lot of what they say goes over my head because the hand gestures are graphic enough. This is not me blowing my own trumpet, they do it to anything remotely female. Slowly we're learning to adopt the "Parisian" look, i.e. walking down the street like you own it and that NO man deserves YOU. Cue French snooty face and catwalk strut. I hope this does not stick and I go back to Dublin looking like an absolute ponce.

At the moment we're dropping CVs into most restaurants and pubs we come across. I lie and say I have LOTS of experience working in bars...Emma actually has, so I'm really only half lying.

I write this from Emma's laptop in a café 30 seconds down the road from us which has WiFi; you really don't appreciate English keyboards until you try typing on French/Arabic ones while the man beside you is staring intently at a video of Sadam Hussien. It's an experience.

Until next time, wish us luck on finding a job that doesn't involve prostitution. It might become an eventuality.

The day before...

2007-06-10T14:03:00.000Z

In 12hrs time I'm going to be in the airport getting charged outrageous excess baggage fees. By my calculations, and taking into account my inability to pack lightly, excess baggage is going to cost me as much as the flight. This is all down to Ryanair's crazy new policies which seem to be aimed at raping their "extremely happy" customers. But it's not just the excess baggage I'm getting screwed over on, the recently introduced hand-luggage rules don't exactly help matters.

Not to go all feminist on this, but I'm willing to bet very few women were involved in that decision making process which led to the introduction of teeny weeny plastic bags which are supposed to be able to fit everything that a woman needs with them at all times. That and the rule about all liquids having to be in 100ml (or less) containers: since when is 100ml of a lotion enough to last any girl 6 weeks?!

It's all a big conspiracy - if we cant bring bottles of make-up remover, toothpaste, clarifying lotion, shampoo etc. with us in our hand luggage, we have to put them in the luggage that gets checked in, which increases its weight...which increases the amount of excess baggage we have to pay. That, and Ryanair only allows 15kg max luggage weight per person.

Ryanair's profits have recently multiplied by a huge amount, something in the region of 30%. Their spokesman told journalists all over the country that this was down to the high demand for cheap flights. My flight costs roughly €45, I reckon I'm going to be at least 5kg over, charged at €8 per extra kilo that comes to €40. I am not a happy camper. Cheap flights? Sure. Cheap travel? I don't think so.

Let's hope Paris is worth it...