Random Ramblings - Part 4

I was sitting here thinking about all the random things about France that I haven't yet mentioned here.  Things that I'm a little worried about in terms of re-adjusting to American life.  Things that I've gotten used to that I might need to warn Sarah and Meghan about before they get here (TWO DAYS!!!!).  So, here is my final list of random ramblings about my frenchified life:

Detachable Shower Heads

Yes!!!!  If you've ever found yourself praying for a day when detachable shower heads are the norm, maybe start praying in French, because the 'dieux des douches' are wide awake here.  Detachable shower heads are seriously in every shower.  It might be difficult to go back to the stationary stream...  Oy.

Hustle and Bustle

The French have a very different understanding of personal space in public places.  Whether the sidewalk is crowded or not, old ladies will check you like an Alabama State line-backer if you're in their way.  At first I wondered if there were reinforced shoulder pads on their old-fashioned dresses, but that was before I realized that these public displays of disorderliness were a cultural norm enjoyed by all ages.  Pushing a stranger aside, bustling their bags, or even just full-on running into a total stranger for no apparent reason are not really considered rude here.  It's normal.   Happens all the time.  I'm still writing this a little in disbelief of some of the things I've seen.  Just like, someone totally pushing people to cut in line or just simple to get where they want to go (regardless of age, gender, size, all that just goes out the window)...  This is especially crazy here in France because otherwise people are SOOOOO polite.  Good morning, good afternoon, yes ma'am, yes sir, yes please, no thank you...  I mean, if you need some bread you better say 'yes please ma'am thank you have a nice day', but if there is a human being in your way go ahead and hustle and bustle the hell out of them.  You'll fit right in!

Commercials' commercials

In addition to still having panty hoes commercials here they also show commercials for commercials.  Every station (at least on public access anyway) has commercials warning you that five to ten minutes of commercials are about to begin or end.  Commercial breaks only happen once (maybe twice) during an hour-long show.  The commercials themselves also happen to be a lot less annoying.  I can't really explain why.  They're funny - or at least clever in some way - and normally play off of the different quirky things about France or other European countries.  In the most extreme cases, this manifests as me watching commercials and then changing the channel or just turning the TV off completely when the show comes back on.  Ha!

Aerosol Deodorant

This is more just an oddity that I find interesting.  The deodorant aisle at the supermarket here looks like the air freshener aisle in the States.  Indeed.  That means that for the last nine months I've been assaulting my underarms every morning with blinding whirlwinds of spray antiperspirant...  It definitely still feels like I'm febreezing my armpits...  and I still stink.  Haha...  So, yeah.

Random Ramblings - Part I

51

There's a 51 bus here!  I swear to God...  I was walking down the street and BAM! there was the freaking 51!!!!!  Ahahah - hilarious.  I almost had to sit down on the side of the road I was laughing so hard.  One day - when I'm really homesick - I'm going to ride that line from end to end and dream about the Bay Area.  Ha!  The 51...  We've shared so many good times...

No 666

There's no 666 here.  I found this out in a very absurd way!  Walking into town on a race day, I passed by two guys still proudly sporting their runner's numbers.  One of them was 666!  So I did what any normal American would do - I pointed and laughed in a way that invited everyone to join in - he just looked down and looked back up and gave me the "What, did I forget to zip?!!?" look.  We continued walking in opposite directions, everyone very confused.

Pick a Lane

They don't have lanes in the community pool here, so swimming is like playing a game of frogger.  If you know me, you know that I am a very weak swimmer.  So, as you can imagine, I am like a baby elephant under there...  I've kicked plenty of people and been caught (on a few occasions) accidentally/intentionally dirty looking some individuals who just stand right in the middle.  I haven't built up enough courage to ask them why they just stand there in the middle of the pool causing others to go out of their way to swim around, but one of these days when my anger has subsided I will find a way to ask nicely.

Pre-game Routine  

To prepare the regional men's team for their first match, I wanted to encourage them to find a pre-game routine.  However, I didn't know how to say "pre-game routine", so I decided to just describe what I do to prepare for a match and asked them what they call that.  They said "obsessive compulsive disorder".  Wah wah!

There's more, but I can't think of it, so that's all for now.  More later!

Snuggling Up To French Women

Wednesday morning!  Yay!  Today was the outdoor market Mecca at Les Halles. I rode down in the misty morning light and immediately got in line for the same fruit booth I went to last week and the week before to get a refill on apple/pear juice and the seasons best apples, pears, peaches, and plums.  I've witnessed a large spectrum of acceptable behavior at French farmer's markets so far...  Sometimes people fill their own bags, but still wait in line to weigh and pay.  Sometimes people wait in line for just the bags and pay when they're done picking out what they want.  Sometimes people wait patiently in the whole line with their empty bags and then order their household fruit and vegetable consumption in terms of kilograms per week from the overworked farmer behind the table.  (Me?  I'm getting used to the kilometers and degrees, but I still think of fruit and vegetables in units - 2 plums, 4 apples, 2 pears - like a French kindergartner.)

Today, I got out my empty bags from last week and eagerly started filling them up with deliciousness.  It wasn't long before I started pissing off the woman in front of me who did not hesitate to scold me for touching all the fruit.  Here is a rough translation of what was said in French + make sure to add a terrible American accent to my part...
Her - "If you squeeze all the fruit, you're making it bruised for everyone behind you in line."
Me - "I never squeeze the fruit."
Her - "That's right.  Don't squeeze it."
Me - "I don't."
Her - "Good.  You shouldn't."
I continued to pick my fruit out awkwardly when it became obvious that this random French woman never wanted to think about me or see me ever again.  We don't know each other so that shouldn't be too difficult...  Not a great start - culturally speaking!

Next stop:  garlic, onions, spinach, mushrooms, tomatoes!  I quickly find myself in line behind another French woman who had the exact same haircut as the Shih Tzu in her arms (no joke).  I tried not to stare, but her fingers were all over the place!  She'd take a stroke of her precious pet, then fondle the onions, pet pet, sift through garlic, pet, ew...  I was starting to understand what I might've looked like to French Lady #1.

Done!  Cue French Lady #3...  A well-dressed woman with straggly white hair handed me a flyer and instead of my normal, "non, merci" I welcomed the flyer and looked her straight in the eyes and genuinely asked if this flyer would tell me where I can find some friends.  We stood in the middle of the market for a second laughing like insane people and then she said, "Maybe!  You never know."  I walked away pretty pleased with my joke of the day...  The flyer was for an antique fair.  Wah wah  :)

Practice was great last night!  I had a terrible stomach ache beforehand (probably because of the anti-inflammatories I've been popping like red hots), but as soon as I got with my team - it was like magic - my stomach pain just went away.  Seriously, I was sitting alone in the gym doubled over with pain and as soon as my team arrived and we started talking and laughing - GONE!  I love practicing with my team!

Musee des Beaux-Arts

I never made it to the market on Sunday!

Today, I set off on foot to find a farmer's market.  I didn't get lost per se (haha!).  I just went in a direction and tried to take in all the details (the sights and sounds and smells) of my surroundings.  There's something about the way laundry hangs out to dry here, the way hedges grow behind mossy stone walls, the narrowness of the streets and the way they weave through the town that just gives the impression that the people came first, then the homes, then the roads.  I can't quite describe the architecture, but it's uniquely French.  Structures are built with a concrete creativity.  The patterns in the bricks, the contrasting colors of the shutters and the doors, and the artistry of the rot-iron fences display restraint, but still seem at ease with the cycles of natural life around them: the rust, the rot, the browning branches...  It's hard to put into words, but I will take some pictures eventually to show you what I mean.  I already have a portfolio of entrances coming together in my head.  Blah blah blah there is beauty everywhere here blah blah blah!

I ended up snaking through the circuitous streets and staircases of Saint Cyr only to arrive smack dab in front of an organic beauty salon that I google mapped yesterday as a possible place to ask about hot yoga.  It was closed - boo!  So, I crossed the bridge into the center of town and stumbled into the Musée des Beaux-Arts.  For five euros I was able to roam freely through the gardens and up and down the magnificent staircases of this impeccable building.  I admired the permanent installations, but really enjoyed the exposition and the artwork of Olivier Debré.

This guy is a serious PIMP.  He paints outdoors with a broom!  I whispered words to myself such as, "formidABle, SUper, GENial" and really meant them.  There were maybe seven or eight huge wall-sized abstractions of emotion and poetry on canvas.  In the same room with his work was a mobile hanging over a brightly painted piano.  I walked meditatively through this room for a while thinking deeply about Billy, his work, and our life together.  I can't say I wasn't moved to tears...  :)

The museum closes down for lunch at 12:30pm so when the clock struck noon, the volunteers were almost shooing me out the door.  Haha!  Maybe, also, I looked a little lost or out of place in my gym clothes, but I seriously got asked 3 or 4 times if I was looking for the exit - LOL.  I bought another batch of postcards (which went out already) and asked at the front desk of the museum if there was a farmer's market (un marché en plein air) in the area that day.  Snobby pants said it wasn't until tomorrow...  I spent the next four hours wandering the cobble stone streets of the artist quarter.

Good finds:

-Creperie - Seriously smells like heaven...  I can't wait to go!

-Printshop - YES!  Finally printed/photocopied/prepared flyers for being a personal chef.  

-Women's fitness center - Ella Fit! - where they're giving me my first yoga class FREE on Wednesday

Made my way back home by bus, and, in the evening, met with the entire staff of the Saint-Cyr-sur-Loire Volley Ball Club.  The leadership asked me to coach the men's team.  The two guys I've met so far on the team really love the sport of volleyball, so I'm looking forward to it being a fun and rewarding experience.

First practice with the entire N2 team tomorrow...  More later!