There has been a HUGE GLITCH in tomorrow evening’s Art Expo at The International Women’s Day Event. There was a last-minute problem with the venue & the Event organizers had to scramble around to find a new venue last night. Unfortunately, the new venue is not conducive to hosting an art expo.
***I will still be there, but without my paintings. Please join me for drinks at the new venue. It would be great to get together.
NEW VENUE: Bastille, FLAG CAFE. http://buff.ly/1dlb3LG
For those of you who are looking for something to do this Friday, please join me as I put on one of my many “hats” – that of the artist. I’d love to see you there.
I wasn’t sure what to expect when I began this Paris expat blog a little more than a year ago, but we now have 5100+ followers with visitors from 108 different countries across the planet. This has been an incredible blogging journey and I hope that you will accept my heartfelt thanks for such a wonderful reception. I had heard that the blogging community was strong, but I never imagined that I would gain a blogging family who would also interact with me on Social and Professional Networks like Twitter, Facebook, Google+ and LinkedIn. What a lovely surprise. You’ve helped make 2013 extraordinary.
Paris: The Last Days of 2013 Photo: Bellanda ®
I look forward to sharing 2014 and Paris with you.
Recently, the Paris Transit Authorities published a new rule book in order for Parisians to act more civil on the metro. These rules are written in an old-fashioned and comical way, and are accompanied by humorous sketches. To give you a little idea of their content, here is a rough translation of some of the rules. (The full French version can be found here: http://www.chervoyageurmoderne.fr/Manuel.pdf )
Rule N° 1 tells Parisians to be courteous. It reminds them that the enormous no-smoking sign on the metro platform is not a piece of artwork but a sign forbidding smoking.
Rule N° 2 tells Parisians to be helpful. It reminds them to offer help to a person wearing Bermuda shorts while holding a map in one hand and their head in the other. *Try not to be offended by the whole Bermuda shorts thing… Perhaps you will be more successful than I was.
Rule N° 4 also tells Parisians to be helpful. This time, it reminds them to hold the exit door for the person behind them. It continues to say that in life one should never miss the occasion to cross paths with someone who might give them a pretty look.
Rule N° 9 shows a drawing of a man dressed in old-fashioned clothing looking at the woman sitting across from him with binoculars. The rule simply states to be courteous. It warns them not to stare at people, even if she has killer eyes. Ummm… She? I’m going to let that one pass by reminding myself that this is obviously one of those French kind of things to say.
Rule N° 10 says to be courteous. It reminds Parisians not to provoke a duel with someone who has accidentally stepped on their foot.
Rule N° 11 shows a drawing of a sweaty French man holding the pole above his head, so as not to fall. Sweat drips down from his armpit onto some poor business man who is trying to protect his head with his briefcase. The rule tells Parisians that on hot days, they should keep their arms down along their sides and to try to hold the pole from below and not above.
Although I find some of this rule book amusing, I believe it to be a rather ingenious way to push the focus and or blame on Parisians so that we don’t look at what is truly making the metro ride unpleasant for many. Parisians seem to be an easy target due to the existence of a stereotype that says they are rude. I’m not even sure where that came from. Perhaps back in the day that might have been the case, but the Parisians I see today are modern, worldly and come from all walks of life. They are a far cry from how they are being portrayed. No, not all Parisians are perfect. That said, neither are all tourists… but really? Are we at the point that necessitates taking time, energy and money to publish an online metro rule book for Parisians?
I am not a true Parisian, nor do I claim to be, but in this case I feel that they are getting a bad rap. After living in Paris for 11 years, I have taken the metro more times than I can count. I have always been an observer, and can attest to seeing Parisians help tourists clutching maps, among other lovely gestures like holding doors and giving up their seats for the handicapped, elderly and pregnant women. I have also seen Parisians jump to the aid of people with a baby carriage or heavy suitcase as they attempted to climb the metro stairs. In France, chivalry is far from dead.
These metro rules are all well and good. They can even be taken in a fun and light way, but somehow while reading through them I couldn’t help but look at the big picture. Let’s just say that when my naive self imagines a perfect metro commute, it doesn’t include any of these so-called rules.
My perfect imaginary world includes a metro station where I do not have to let trains pass during rush hour just to push my way on board one of the later trains. This perfect metro car would have enough room for everyone to fit inside comfortably, and have a ventilation system and/or light air conditioning so that we wouldn’t even have to worry about someone sweating on us as they reached up to hold the pole. The metro car doors in my imaginary world, open and close automatically with a lovely and calming ding-dong-ding chime so that I could keep my zen moment alive. As I dream on, I imagine working escalators throughout a clean smelling network of tunnels. Automated metro exit doors would give me enough time to pass through with my wheeled briefcase and then close softly behind me. *Sigh… if only.
I have read many articles about the Paris transit system’s plans and about how they are currently working on building a better metro system. Some of these articles even talked about adding over 100 miles of new metro lines. Wouldn’t it be great if their dream metro system and mine somehow merged into one at some point in the very near future? I don’t know about you, but that would put me in such a good mood that I’d even smile more than I do. Who knows? Perhaps smiling would even be as contagious as yawning!
Do Parisians really need a rule book on metro etiquette, or do they just need a more pleasant environment to travel around Paris? What are your thoughts?
This Expat Has Changed Her Eating Habits Since She Moved to France.
As someone who has openly admitted to giving Americans a bad name when it comes to food and cooking, I have made huge changes since I moved to France. Although, we will still go to a fine restaurant from time to time to eat things we can’t possibly make ourselves, my New York lifestyle of going out to eat, grabbing or delivering something has become almost non-existent. Most importantly, my pasta no longer sticks to the wall like wallpaper paste, and you can actually cut and chew a piece of meat that I have cooked (much to the relief of my dear sweet man and children).
Although I know that I will never truly be French in my attitude and habits, food has become almost sacred for me. I’m not sure when it happened, but when I was recently asked if my eating habits have changed since I moved to France I was surprised by my answer. The change is in fact so dramatic that I’m not even sure if I should be proud or embarrassed.
As I write this blog post for you, I almost feel like a food snob. Okay, I think the word almost is an understatement. I’m not proud, but I think that I have actually become one! We buy fresh foods found at the market. By fresh, I mean… literally. I cringe at the thought of buying or eating meat, fish or poultry that wasn’t cleaned/prepared for me in front of my very eyes. I don’t think I ever saw a fish head until I moved to France, and although I get laughed at by my French friends, I still don’t want to see it on my plate. Somehow, I don’t think I will ever evolve to that, nor do I want to. That said, fish and other meat products should be fresh. Who knew that fish doesn’t smell fishy if it is fresh? Okay, please don’t answer that. I’d like to continue thinking that I am not the only one who thought, all fish smells fishy.
Fresh Fish from Local Market
As if the fresh meat and fish idea isn’t enough, I can’t help but gasp at vegetables or fruit in a can. If you just opened one up for dinner, please don’t hate me. The one thing I noticed here in France, is the ease with which one can find local markets that are open several times a week. Pretty much everything I buy come from the nearby fresh markets, leaving the supermarket for staple items like flour, sugar, etc. There is one hump I can’t get over… I buy mayonnaise and I will never put raw egg on my homemade Fettuccine Alfredo (Now, it is my Mother In Law who is gasping). The germ and virus fearing American in me just can’t get over that whole salmonella thing.
Although my Mom shakes her head and laughs about how crazy I have become about not buying something canned, I somehow feel better when she compliments my cooking and asks me to give her recipes.
You might be shaking your heads by now thinking, Who knew Bellanda was so crazy? She seems so normal in the Social Media Circle. Hold that thought… Things are about to get worse or better depending on where you stand. When my children were little, one of them made a comment about carrots coming from the fresh market. They were shocked to hear that they actually came from the ground before they made it to the market. Thus began a whole new way of thinking and buying food. We went online in search of a farm, and we not only found one not too far from Paris, we found one where you pick your own fruits and vegetables.
If you caught my Halloween Pumpkin Post, one of our little farms just happens to be the same place we buy our pumpkins at Halloween: La Cueillette Plessis in Lumigny. http://www.cueilletteduplessis.com/index.php
La Cueillette Plessis in Lumigny D20 – Route de Lumigny 77540 Lumigny Photos: Bellanda ®
Put on your boots and grab one of the many wheelbarrows at your disposal to start loading it up with fresh delicious fruits and vegetables. We do!
“Mommy, look what we pulled up from the ground!” Bellanda ®“Only take the red ones…” Bellanda ®Oh, and don’t be afraid to get your hands dirty… That is the fun part! You can wash them later when you rinse off your vegetable at the big outdoor sink. Bellanda ®Fall Season Farm Fruits and Vegetables. Oops! It looks like we forgot to tell our little ones not to crush the freshly picked salad. Bellanda ®
Although we don’t play farmer as often as I would like to, it is a must for so many reasons: great produce, decent prices, and we get to teach our little ones about buying what is in season. With the ability to buy any and all fruits and vegetables throughout the entire year, I didn’t even know what in season meant back home.
Much to the amazement of my Mom, we eat a real breakfast and cook two meals a day. I think the only reason she doesn’t call the men in white suites to bring me back home is because from time to time I will make a sandwich for lunch. My children adore them, so I try to ignore and put up with my Mother In Law saying in an almost shocked tone, “Oh, I see they’re eating American today? I guess they can eat French for dinner.” Even though I see sandwiches everywhere here in France, apparently I will never be truly French, no matter how much my eating habits have evolved… but hey, I’m totally okay with that.
Before I begin, let me just say that last week was a difficult one for my entire family.
I think we (or at least I) could use a little comic relief.
Taking a little break from the big issues in life is at times a necessary blessing.
If only all wars were made of toilet paper…
Seems like an ordinary roll of toilet paper, but beware of its consequences! Photo/Graphics by Bellanda ®
It seems like an ordinary roll of toilet paper, right? Who would have thought that a simple roll of toilet paper could start what I am calling the Silent Toilet Paper War? I can almost see some of you shaking your heads as you wonder if I’ve either lost my mind or run out of ideas for my blog. You might even be thinking that it must be sheer desperation that has driven me to write about such a subject. On the contrary, those of you who follow my blog know that I had planned to write about my favorite place to buy and drink coffee in Paris. So, why toilet paper? Let’s just say that it’s amazing what can arise from a simple one week visit from my dear sweet French man’s parents. Sorry, but the coffee post will just have to wait!
Toilet paper… When you hear those words I’m sure there are many things that come to mind of which we truly do not need to talk about. As long as I’ve had it when it was needed, I never gave it much thought. Then came an eye-opening visit from my in-laws which led me to realize something that I’m not proud of. Apparently, I can be quite petty when it comes to the direction a toilet paper roll is placed on the holder. Ah, yes! Did some of you just have a moment of recognition? Disbelief? Either way, I have a feeling that many of you know exactly what I’m talking about.
On the first day my in-laws were with us, I walked into the bathroom and immediately noticed that the roll of toilet paper was facing in the wrong direction. Yes, I am seriously that obsessive. Who knew?! Instinctively, I switched it back to what I consider to be the correct way to hang toilet paper. I figured that one of my children must have knocked it on the floor by accident and placed it back on the holder in the wrong direction. Then, it happened again… and again. I kept this whole thing to myself, but out of curiosity switched the toilet paper back each time I saw it in the wrong direction.
My Way! (Over Orientation)
I decided to do a little investigating (I know, I need to get out more). This probably sounds crazy and perhaps it truly is, but I just had to know who was doing this. I found myself sneaking around, checking the bathroom each time someone walked out. It turned out that it was my Mother-in-Law AND Father-in-Law! They actually took the time to change the direction of the toilet paper roll each time they went into the bathroom! I mean really, who does that? Oh right, my in-laws… but why? I don’t know about you, but I have never thought of switching the toilet paper roll direction when I am a guest at someone else’s house and would appreciate it if you are a future guest at my home that you leave my toilet paper the way I like it. 😉
The first time you notice that the toilet paper is in the wrong direction, you say to yourself that it must have been an accident. The second time, you start to wonder. The third time, you start to wonder if they are doing this just to annoy you. The fourth time you are sure they are! No one spoke of the subject, yet each time I switched the roll to my way, they switched it back to their way. Thus began, what I’m going to call the Toilet Paper Experiment and the Silent Toilet Paper War.
Yes, I am indeed aware that perhaps I need to get a life but let’s just say I did all of this under the realm of cultural research. At least, that is what I’m telling myself. I continued doing this in secret for the entire week they stayed with us. I was afraid if I mentioned it to anyone it would taint my experiment and ruin the outcome. I actually giggled as I went in and out of the bathroom in disbelief. I wanted so much to share what was happening with my dear sweet man, but I stuck to my original plan. I kept wondering if my in-laws would eventually stop switching the toilet paper roll. I was sure that they would… but this is what I would see every single day, several times a day, for the entire week!
Their Way! (Under Orientation)
Was this some Machiavellian way to get even with me for taking their son away ?
During the week, I began asking myself some truly ridiculous questions. Is there even a correct way to place toilet paper on the holder? Is it just an acquired behavioral pattern? Is it just another one of those cultural issues that pops up from time to time as a result of being an expat? Do people even care which way the paper is placed on the holder?
Then, I did what pretty much everyone else does when they want to know something, I Googled the words “correct way to place toilet paper on the holder” only to discover that despite this being a truly petty subject matter… there is actually a Silent and Not So Silent War going on when it concerns this topic. Apparently, there have been a ridiculous numbers of studies actually done on this subject. I smiled, feeling somewhat vindicated that somehow I was not as crazy as I thought. If scientists, philosophers and doctors have researched this subject, then I can assume I’m in good company (or at least in crazy company).
The wealth of information is actually quite hilarious and even links toilet paper orientation to personality traits, age, political affiliation, and of course cultural differences. One can’t help but laugh, but apparently it is also a pet peeve that causes actual fights in some relationships. According to Wikipedia, Ann Landers said that this subject was the most controversial issue in her column’s history.
What struck me time and time again while going through the mass of information on the internet concerning this topic were the recurring polls and studies that showed that most Americans use the over orientation, as I do, while most Europeans use the under orientation like my in-laws. Somehow, I was relieved that my in-laws weren’t trying to make me crazy or get even with me for some unknown reason. I felt better in thinking that toilet paper orientation is just a cultural thing. That is, until I saw this…
You just can’t make this kind of thing up… Life is much more fun than fiction!
War of Wills, War of Cultures… or BOTH? I’ll let you be your own judge. I’m going to pretend (or lie to myself) that it’s just another Expat cultural thing and that my dear man’s parents were just too preoccupied with packing their bags to replace the roll of toilet paper. If I allow myself to think this was done on purpose, I might also discover that I have a little vengeful, yet playful, side of me that will have to spend my next visit to their home changing the toilet paper in all of the bathrooms… for the entire duration of my trip! 😀
Here’s a post that nearly made me fall on the floor laughing: http://currentconfig.com/2005/02/22/essential-life-lesson-1-over-is-right-under-is-wrong The author included sketches and clearly stated reasons as to why the way I orient my toilet paper is the correctway. In all fairness to under orientation people, they updated their post to include some reasons why some people prefer this approach.
Now the BIG questions…
Have some fun and let yourself think about something truly ridiculous for a moment.
Do you care which way the toilet paper is placed on the holder?
If so, which way is your ‘correct’ way?
What country are you from?
*Oh, and feel free to leave a fake name if you would rather not let people all over the world know you’re actually discussing toilet paper orientation… 🙂
UPDATE:
THIS ARTICLE & TOILET PAPER PATENT JUST ABOUT SETTLES THE TOILET PAPER ORIENTATION DEBATE… I WIN – HAHAHA! Just in time… They are due for another visit in about 10 days & this might come in handy. 😉
I cannot go on with life as normal today, as we are once again reminded of the violence in the world we presently live. Being an Expat can be wonderful, but it also means that we are not with those we love in times of need. This is the part of the package of ‘living one’s dream’ that is the hardest to handle. Although far in miles, you are all near and dear in my heart… as are those who suffer in other parts of the world.
I have never understood the hate and harm that takes place in so much of the world. Life is so very precious, and yet every single day lives are lost to terror and hate. When will this ever stop? When will we begin to respect and allow others to live peacefully the way they chose?
When I look into my innocent children’s eyes, I wonder what kind of world awaits them. Perhaps this will sound naive, but it would be wonderful if everyone would wake up and realize the value of each life, in all forms, so that we can live & let live… in peace.
This candle burns… and with it shines the light of my hopes for a better world filled with peace.
Notre Dame – Paris, France – 2013 Photography/Graphics by Bellanda ®
The light was shining ever so perfectly… Despite the cold temperatures & shivering hands, I just had to share this view with you. I looked at that very famous lover’s lock bridge, wondering if it could handle the weight of all the locks, cars and people. I decided that you were worth it. Obviously, I survived the bridge and my overactive imagination. How could I not? It would be a shame to keep something so beautiful a secret.
Here is a piece of Paris… sent to you with all the best wishes for a great week.
I know that you are totally shocked that I, of all people, would choose to write about such a topic. Okay, maybe not. It’s true, go ahead and laugh, but here’s the scoop for those who don’t know me very well. I’m having a real love affair with coffee. Shhhh… don’t tell my partner… I’d hate for him to be jealous.
Despite my clear addiction, bias and love for a good espresso, I think it’s obvious that whether you drink coffee or not it is one of those subjects that you are sure to see in your Twitter or Facebook feed on an almost daily basis. I can’t possibly be the only one who sees those tweets and posts begging for a coffee at pretty much any hour of the day. Better yet, I love the posts with photos of cups of coffee that make us coffee lovers either drool with envy or motivate us to get up and make one for ourselves. Then, there is that cute little symbol some of you use that looks like a coffee cup. c(_) Truth be told, I’m actually guilty of all the above and I am not ashamed to admit it. I love coffee! I love drinking it, reading about it, tweeting, posting and now blogging about it. It’s official, if by chance there was any doubt left.
That said, last week, I created a new blog that had nothing to do with coffee… or so I thought: http://atelierbellanda.wordpress.com It features a ‘Virtual’ Art Atelier, which shares the before, during and after creation process of my Oil Paintings and One of a Kind Photographic Art. ‘Live’ sessions will be planned so that you can follow, interact and share in the online Atelier experience. After my many visits to museums and galleries around the world, I had always wished that I could have witnessed the artists at work. The concept of my new blog was born with this thought process in mind, and yes, it was born with an espresso in hand.
Since the start of my Atelier Bellanda Blog, I’ve been asked by a few people how on earth I find the time to write books, screenplays, run two blogs, paint, do photography, be a social media manager for a French companies/Chefs, play with my little ones, run them around to activities, all the while being in a good relationship with a wonderful man. In response, I often make jokes about it being the effects of drinking way too much coffee… that, and the help of my Pink Super Cape that I take out in real emergencies. Recently, a Twitter friend wrote, “I’m loving the new Blog… Keep drinking the coffee!!!”
Since then, I’ve been giving coffee a lot of thought. Have you ever wondered how many careers were made while under the ‘influence’ of coffee? How many deals were made over coffee? How many books, scripts or blog posts were written with a cup of coffee in hand? How many of you have ever tried to meet business deadlines or studied late nights with a fresh pot of coffee or cup of espresso? The, “Let’s meet for drinks,” has almost been replaced by the, “Let’s meet for coffee.” Oh wait, maybe that’s just because I am getting old? No need to answer that by the way.
Anyway, I looked back at where my “espresso addiction” began and immediately began to laugh. Of all places, it began in Paris back in the summer of 1990. Okay, my head just began to spin when I typed that date. (*Presently taking a deep breath with the confirmation that I’m no longer a spring chicken.) Yeah, moving right along… It seems so appropriate and somewhat strange that this magical city I now live in, is the place of origin of my very first espresso!
I had always been a tea lover and although I liked the smell of coffee, I hated the taste. It wasn’t until I arrived in Paris during a one and a half month European ‘self-discovery’ backpacking experience that my tea drinking days came to a screeching halt. On one gorgeous sunny but cool Parisian morning I asked myself, what better place to people watch than an outdoor café? I found a wonderful little café. There was an available table with the morning sun shining on it, so walked over and sat down with my little writing journal.
To immerse myself into a culture as much as possible, I often traveled alone. As a result, I was also on my own when it came to trying to communicate with my either non-existent or little foreign language vocabulary. Timidly, I uttered, “Un thé, s’il vous plaît,” with what was probably one of the worst accents the waiter had ever heard. He looked at me with that puzzled, razed eyebrow expression. Seriously, how could I get that wrong? It looked like such an easy thing to order. I spoke a little louder and he immediately started asking me what seemed like endless questions of which I had no idea what he was saying. Even though there was a cool gentle morning breeze, I began to sweat. I kept saying, “Désolé” (sorry) because that was one of the few words I knew.
Eventually, the waiter held up his hand as if to say, wait a minute and walked away. He came back with a box filled with a variety of tea bags, milk, lemon and sugar and looked at me with a smile and an okay, what do you want kind of expression. I thought, my savior! I smiled timidly, as I could feel myself blush with embarrassment. Who would have thought ordering tea could be so complicated?
After making my tea and sugar choice, I sat back relieved that this chapter in my journey was over. Just then, I noticed a man sit down at the next table. He looked at the waiter and said, “Un café, s’il vous plaît.” The waiter nodded his head, and brought him a café. He placed it on the table and that was it! There were no questions asked… no need for further discussion. I think my mouth literally dropped open as I thought, I can do that! Thus began the birth of my coffee obsession.
I must admit that at first I needed to add several sugars just to get it down, but hey, that’s the price to pay when one has the courage to travel alone, yet doesn’t have the courage to ask for tea. Go figure! Over the years, my tastes have refined and I have even left a bad cup of coffee untouched after a sip. Admittedly that doesn’t happen often because I hate to waste coffee, but it has indeed happened as I search for the perfect espresso.
Since Paris is the place that introduced me to coffee, I thought it only fair that I introduce you to one of my favorite coffee places in Paris. STAY TUNED… a future blog post will do just that!
Until then, feel free to add your favorite coffee stories or locations across the globe in the comments section below.
Living the dream... in Paris, France 