RIBs, wifi, work, food, flowers

As Jeff put it, if living in France were a video game, the prize that you get at the end of the first level would be your RIB. This is a bank routing number which allows you to do all sorts of things, like have your paycheck deposited in your account, or get internet service in your home. Thrilled with our new powers, we ran off to the France Télécom shop to set up our internet. However, in the stereotypical French way, this cannot be done immediately. Though we have all the hardware necessary, someone, somewhere, must activate our account, and this process takes approximately two weeks. France Télécom keeps sending me cruel little text messages: you can track your order online! your television service has been activated! All things that are useless to me until the internet is connected! Le sigh.

However, right now we do have a little device that gets us a limited period of wifi in the apartment, so for the first time, we are posting from the comfort of our home.

Last weekend the weather was gorgeous, so we went up to the Belleville market, bought a bunch of food, and carried it up into the Parc Buttes-Chaumont for a picnic. Here's some pictures of the feast: we've got paté de campagne, some kind of dry cured ham, saucisse sèche, cheese (tomme de something), bread, a fromage blanc cake, figs (they're in a little bag), and cider.









As the name suggests, Buttes-Chaumont is elevated relative to the rest of the city. Here's a cool view of the urban landscape and the Sacré Coeur on top of the hill.



I have now started my job as a lectrice at the Institut Anglophone of the Université de Paris 7, Diderot. The first week, the main goal is to get your students to feel comfortable talking in class, so work consists mainly of introductions and icebreakers. I have them try to guess where I'm from based on accent: the first year students immediately say England, the third years can tell that I'm American. Despite numerous geographical hints, none of them came up with Minnesota on their own, but I guess that isn't too surprising. After I tell them that I am from the lovely, snowy, lake-covered birthplace of Bob Dylan and Prince, they work on introducing each other to the class, and the first-years stage little debates about the superiority of cats versus dogs, summer versus winter, and similar topics of heated discussion. In the future, however, a lot of my teaching will consist of watching students work through readings, listening and phonetics exercises; less interesting, but to be honest, a bit less work.

There are many fun things about living here so far - the restaurants, the shops, turning a corner and saying "oh look, there's Notre Dame/the Eiffel Tower/the Louvre" etc. - but one of the most fun is when we get to see friendly faces from home. This week we had dinner with AJ from Jeff's high school and his lady friend Lisa, which was a great time topped off by a strange waiter who told us that we need to get rid of Obama because he is an illuminati.

Other fun stuff this week: we went to see a Portland band (Musée Méchanique) at the Point Éphémère, a club/restaurant/art space down by the Canal Saint-Martin that we had been wanting to check out anyway. It's a little like what the Foxfire aspired to be, for those who remember that place, but much bigger and evidently successful, based on how packed it was in the bar.

This weekend, however, has been mostly grey and cold, with occasional spits of rain. Despite this inhospitality, this morning we decided to go to the Jardin des Plantes before the weather really turns cold. It was lovely and very worth it; there are large flower gardens, wilder forest areas, vegetable and fruit gardens and trees, and greenhouses with tropical exhibits which we plan to visit later in the winter when we need a little plant therapy.








(Jeff clearly found this plant really fascinating)



Jeff also took the opportunity to work on his Terry Mitchell photography style:



(The tree in the middle there is older than the U.S.A., having been planted in 1774.)

On the way home we stopped by the Arènes de Lutèce. Where gladiators once fought, people now play soccer and check email.


Later the rain set in with a little more vigor; here we are under the umbrella.


And of course, Jeff is still having fun cooking in our somewhat limited circumstances (though we just got a toaster oven, so things are looking up). Here is last night's blanquette de veau (veal stew) - we're starting to need comfort food now that it's fall.



Coming up is a plunge into the depths of the Bibliothèque (library) Nationale de France and an excursion to the Bois de Vincennes, plus whatever else comes to mind.