French Wench

From Today's New York Times

2008-01-09T01:25:00.001+01:00

I see more and more of my friends supporting Barak Obama but I have yet to decide.

Anyway, though this has nothing to do with my trip I really wanted to post this article from today's New York Times because I think it is so interesting and true.

Women are Never Front Runners
By Gloria Steinem

THE woman in question became a lawyer after some years as a community organizer, married a corporate lawyer and is the mother of two little girls, ages 9 and 6. Herself the daughter of a white American mother and a black African father — in this race-conscious country, she is considered black — she served as a state legislator for eight years, and became an inspirational voice for national unity.

Be honest: Do you think this is the biography of someone who could be elected to the United States Senate? After less than one term there, do you believe she could be a viable candidate to head the most powerful nation on earth?

If you answered no to either question, you’re not alone. Gender is probably the most restricting force in American life, whether the question is who must be in the kitchen or who could be in the White House. This country is way down the list of countries electing women and, according to one study, it polarizes gender roles more than the average democracy.

That’s why the Iowa primary was following our historical pattern of making change. Black men were given the vote a half-century before women of any race were allowed to mark a ballot, and generally have ascended to positions of power, from the military to the boardroom, before any women (with the possible exception of obedient family members in the latter).

If the lawyer described above had been just as charismatic but named, say, Achola Obama instead of Barack Obama, her goose would have been cooked long ago. Indeed, neither she nor Hillary Clinton could have used Mr. Obama’s public style — or Bill Clinton’s either — without being considered too emotional by Washington pundits.

So why is the sex barrier not taken as seriously as the racial one? The reasons are as pervasive as the air we breathe: because sexism is still confused with nature as racism once was; because anything that affects males is seen as more serious than anything that affects “only” the female half of the human race; because children are still raised mostly by women (to put it mildly) so men especially tend to feel they are regressing to childhood when dealing with a powerful woman; because racism stereotyped black men as more “masculine” for so long that some white men find their presence to be masculinity-affirming (as long as there aren’t too many of them); and because there is still no “right” way to be a woman in public power without being considered a you-know-what.

I’m not advocating a competition for who has it toughest. The caste systems of sex and race are interdependent and can only be uprooted together. That’s why Senators Clinton and Obama have to be careful not to let a healthy debate turn into the kind of hostility that the news media love. Both will need a coalition of outsiders to win a general election. The abolition and suffrage movements progressed when united and were damaged by division; we should remember that.

I’m supporting Senator Clinton because like Senator Obama she has community organizing experience, but she also has more years in the Senate, an unprecedented eight years of on-the-job training in the White House, no masculinity to prove, the potential to tap a huge reservoir of this country’s talent by her example, and now even the courage to break the no-tears rule. I’m not opposing Mr. Obama; if he’s the nominee, I’ll volunteer. Indeed, if you look at votes during their two-year overlap in the Senate, they were the same more than 90 percent of the time. Besides, to clean up the mess left by President Bush, we may need two terms of President Clinton and two of President Obama.

But what worries me is that he is seen as unifying by his race while she is seen as divisive by her sex.

What worries me is that she is accused of “playing the gender card” when citing the old boys’ club, while he is seen as unifying by citing civil rights confrontations.

What worries me is that male Iowa voters were seen as gender-free when supporting their own, while female voters were seen as biased if they did and disloyal if they didn’t.

What worries me is that reporters ignore Mr. Obama’s dependence on the old — for instance, the frequent campaign comparisons to John F. Kennedy — while not challenging the slander that her progressive policies are part of the Washington status quo.

What worries me is that some women, perhaps especially younger ones, hope to deny or escape the sexual caste system; thus Iowa women over 50 and 60, who disproportionately supported Senator Clinton, proved once again that women are the one group that grows more radical with age.

This country can no longer afford to choose our leaders from a talent pool limited by sex, race, money, powerful fathers and paper degrees. It’s time to take equal pride in breaking all the barriers. We have to be able to say: “I’m supporting her because she’ll be a great president and because she’s a woman.”

CREEPY

2007-12-28T19:53:00.000+01:00

So less than 24 hours after my last post, the number of people who have visited my blog has doubled. Shocked, I looked up where they were coming from and found this:

http://wc1.worldcrossing.com/WebX/.1de61ff8/2926

http://wc1.worldcrossing.com/WebX/.1de61ff8?@347.mYbpaTNlf8W@

Haha.

On the lack of posts

2007-12-27T19:58:00.000+01:00

My internet access has been hit or miss and thus my posting rare. Now I'm in a great cafe, having just had the most yummy onion soup but have to flee because, while I agree the music is great, the host insists on tapping along to each song with a spoon and I am on the verge of going crazy.

I'm going to London for the weekend and New Years and may have some down time to post. After that, I'll be back in the states! It's amazing how the time has flown. I will still post about my time in Paris because I still have so much to say- I've only gotten through things I did in October.

In the mean time, here's a little post.

One of my first Saturdays here I decided to walk around the Marais neighborhood. It used to a Jewish neighborhood but is now known as slightly Jewish, but more gay, with lots of expensive shopping. It's a nice afternoon walk in the sun, with stop for falafel.

So I'm walking down a very quiet back street and this guy walking towards me, accompanied by another man and a woman, looks incredibly familiar. I realize it's Leonardo DiCaprio. I don't really believe it- he was wearing a hat- but as I get closer he exclaims, "Let's go get some ice cream!" and I know it's him because I recognize his voice. He's also with Lukas Haas (who I know is an actor but could not name a single movie he's been in. I think he's more famous for his friends.) As I walk by them, and Leonardo Dicaprio bumps into me, I can't help but have my own Big moment. I feel like I am twelve and have the most enormous grin on my face. I wanted to marry this guy after I saw Romeo and Juliet. I had posters of him on my wall. I was in love. Teeny Bopper love, but still, in love.

Anyway, as he passes me by I considered asking for a photo for nostalgia sake (Titanic may have been the last movie of his I saw), but that's not really my thing. But I'm still feeling twelve and decide to take a picture of the back of his head.

This is the original picture-- there's some guy blocking most of Leonardo Dicaprio. You can see it took me a while to be cheesy enough to even take this photo.
I was going to do a little snazzy job and zoom and crop so you could actually see the back of his head but now I realize I don't know how to do that on my computer and still make it so that the photo is large enough to see. But I swear that's him!

So to end the story, I had that silly grin on my face for about three blocks. I think people actually stared.

All so so so ridiculous.

Brussels

2007-12-15T11:22:00.000+01:00

I went to Brussels for a weekend in October. I stayed at a hostel with incredibly friendly people. The first night I had dinner with a girl form Shanghai and then went to a bar with three New Yorkers, a New Zealander, and a Canadian. The bar holds the Guinness World Record for serving the most beers- around 2,000. There were binders being passed around with descriptions of each one. It was a bit daunting so I just went on recommendations. The second night I played poker with two guys from Liverpool and won three out of five games. It was pretty awesome.

Most of the people I met didn't like Brussels but I think they just didn't explore the city enough. I love just walking around cities. Usually I have a goal in mind but in Brussels my usually good sense of direction was non-existent. I was lost practically the entire weekend. It was frustrating then but now I don't mind because I saw A LOT.

My first stop was Grand Place. It's usually a market but there wasn't a lot going on when I was there.
The building above were guild houses. I don't think any of them specialize in anything now- some are restaurants, some are museums. One is a beer museum and a small pub. The museum is possibly the worst I have ever been to (Brussels, unfortunately is full of mediocre museums. My favorite: The Textile Museum) It was tiny and cramped, which made it difficult to walk around and read about the beer making process. They were showing a very long video (it was on trappist monks when I was there) but it was deadly boring. But maybe that's just because I'm not a beer fanatic. I tried but it's just not gonna happen.

Another okay museum was the chocolate museum. It started off well-- They offer you a cookie freshly dipped in chocolate when you enter. Then the woman, below, taught me how chocolate was made and explained how she made molds of chocolate candies. And gave out free samples. Yummy. Note the chocolate hats on the right.
However, once I went upstairs the museum took a down turn. Lots of tchochkes and not much explanation. The woman had said there were dresses made out of chocoalte, but they just turned out to be dresses with chocolate painted on them. Boo.
Here's an example of one of the hundreds of chocolate shops in the city. Good thing: many of the stores makes the candy on site and they "messed up" pieces are given out as free samples. Bad thing: too much chocolate. I think there is such a thing. Maybe.
Seriously though, this city could kill you. They are known for their beer, chocolate, waffles, mussels and fries. (P.S. Lexi, I'm sorry to say, I wasn't too impressed with the frites at that stand. I think I'll stick to my freedom fries.)

I stumbled across this sculpture when I was lost at one point. It's enormous and made entirely of 2x4s.

I also stumbled across this interpretation of Noah's Ark. Cute.

I walked around this flea market for a while but didn't find anything. It is said to be great but I'm not quite sure about that. I'm not really looking for old chairs or dinner sets. It was also a lot of true JUNK- more than any other flea market I've been to. Most of the things were still in boxes and I didn't feel like rummaging. It was a bit of an incredible sight. It looked like a tornado had just gone through.

Near my hostel and on the main street some construction was being done. The entire inside of this building had been destroyed but these yellow frames were preserving most of the outer walls. It was so strange to look at, and quite beautiful.

The modern art section of the national art museum left a lot to be desired. It was about seven floors below ground and a lot of the works were lit horribly (or not at all as more than a few light bulbs were out). This was my favorite painting. Sadly, I've packed the postcard away and don't have the name of the artist available.

I don't have the name of this place on me either but it's a pretty shopping place (it's too pretty to call a center or mall.)

The Museum of Musical Instruments was, by far, the best best best part of my visit to Brussels. First, look at the building! It's the most beautiful art nouveau building in the city- that I saw, and the guide books say, as well. When you walk in and pay you get head phones. In each room there are numbers in front of display cases of instruments from all over the world. When you stand on the number, music from the current instruments pipes in, wirelessly, over the headphones. It's really, really cool. One of the best, most interesting museums I have ever been to. So so so cool.

Marché Post

2007-12-03T17:04:00.000+01:00

Going to the marché is a must in Paris. Of course. Everyone knows that. And of course there are always tourists there taking photos and I am one of them. We need more marchés in the US.

Aquarium

2007-11-19T13:57:00.000+01:00

There's a little aquarium close to my apartment and I stopped in a few weeks ago. They had little displays kids could interact with.
This one is pretty amazing because it required kids to plug the wires into the corresponding electrical outlet. It was pretty sketchy looking.

There was a round tank with a current and there were half a dozen jelly fish that just went in circles.

And then at the end, of course, there was a gift shop. I didn't buy anything and was shocked to find this:

When I leave my apartment...

2007-11-19T13:19:00.000+01:00

First I go down this hallwayThen I got down a flight and a half of stairs because halfway down there is a door. It's made out of the window panes that divide the back stairs and the regular stairs. Once on the regular stairs, I go down the remaininng half flight. I take this elevator down five flights. It always shakes between the third and fourth floors. Once in the lobby I have to press a button to open the building's main door. And when I am outside and I look up, this is what I see.

Amazingness!

2007-11-10T13:30:00.001+01:00

Click on the photo for a bigger viewThis is the view out my window at night.

Monkey: Journey to the West

2007-11-09T13:23:00.001+01:00

Madame F has American neighbors that she had never met and used me as an excuse to meet them. We had drinks with them and I got to practice more French. The husband, a classic New Yorker, wasn't fluent either so we stumble and the wife and Madame F helped us along. It was fun. The wife was excited when she found out I was in theater and insisted I go see Monkey: Journey to the West. It's a Chinese acrobatic opera scored and designed by the founders of Gorillaz. It was pretty fantastic. It was sung in Chinese and had French subtitles. I could understand most of it. The story was secondary to the acrobatics, visuals and music. There were women who brought their legs above their heads so that they were basically only balancing on their chins. There were fight scenes on unicycles and roller blades. The costumes were hit and miss- most were beautiful but some just seemed a little off (colors clashed at strange times, for example,).

In the last scene, monks in red slowly climbed the Buddha above, performing certain rituals. It was methodical and beautiful. The female acrobats were spinning many plates, mimicking a field of flowers. The hero and his fellow travelers ended up in a Paradise.

The guys in black are the creators. I saw the last performance so they came out at the end. You can see the hero, the Monkey, in yellow. You can see the women in pink and green behind them- they were the flowers in the field. I thought it was those colors that looked so strange against the blue Buddha and red monks. But no matter, because it was a truly amazing performance.

Ready, Aim....

2007-11-07T17:24:00.001+01:00

When I returned from my afternoon with Madame F, I was really proud of myself. I had been warned that French women are notoriously unfriendly and cold but I had spent an afternoon getting to know Madame F- in French! She was incredibly friendly and I had such a great time. We both talked about our lives, and understood each other! Amazing! What did I have to worry about?

I headed back to my room to make myself some dinner. First I needed to use the restroom. A downside of my room is that the toilet is shared by many of the other students on my floor and is across the hall. It really didn't bother me, though. When I opened the door, however, I think I actually gasped out loud.

I had been fortunate when I was in India and hardly ever had to use a squat toilet. Now I was faced with using one all the time. I'm sure my parents are still laughing at the panicked e-mail I immediately sent to them. In my defense, it's a little awkward. There's a sloping wall at the back making it difficult to balance and you have to be careful when you stand up because you can hit your head or back on the window handle.

The sign on top says, "These toilets were cleaned some time in August 2007-thank you for keeping them clean for the well being of all and use the new brushes without moderation!" And the second says, "aim at the hole--- clean toilets, it's better."

Uhhhhh......

My Room

2007-10-30T12:55:00.000+01:00

Here are some photos of my room. I spent my first day cleaning the room and unpacking. I now have a table/desk between the door and my bed, which makes it a little more cluttered but helpful. In the second photo you can see the glass door to my shower. Next to it is my stove- 2 burners, one of which I can't use because it blows the fuse every time. Then there's a tiny counter space and my sink. There's a little closet next to that. On the right of the door, there's another closet. It's great and simple though the tile floor is cold, even when the heat is on.

Here's one of the best parts of my room: the view!

In the afternoon I went down to Madame F's apartment for some coffee. I was asking her questions about the neighborhood and she said she would show me around. I mentioned that I might want to take a French class and she insisted that I go to the Alliance Francaise. I expected to just pick up some information but within an hour I had taken a placement test and was enrolled in a three hour class, three days a week.

Our tour of the neighborhood turned out to be a tour of half of Paris but it was great. I got to practice my French for three hours while Madame F pointed out her favorite places.

Madame F

The Seine

My Favorite View of Notre Dame

La Nuit Blanche

2007-10-22T17:04:00.001+02:00

The first Saturday I was in Paris was a night called La Nuit Blanche. Once a year, from seven pm to seven am most museums are open and are free!! There is also tons of performance pieces and installation art all over the city. I met up with Painton and we went to the Louvre first. My previous experience at the Louvre was six years ago and horrible. Granted I was walking through the hall that has the Mona Lisa, but I hated how crowded and noisy it was. (A little plug, because I can't say enough good things about it, go to the Yale University Art Gallery. It's everything a museum experience should be.)

Anyway, Painton and I chose a different hall and as we walked around the first few rooms of tapestries and other decorative arts, we did not see a single person. It was amazing. Neither of us have a particular interest in tapestries so we wandered towards some paintings. The names of the artists we saw now escape me (I think it was mostly 17th and 18th century works), but the pieces were beautiful and Painton had lots of stories and histories to add.

A highlight was that Painton is an expert on stained glass and rose windows, like those found at Chartres Catheral and as we walked though certain exhibits, he explained certain pieces and he taught me about the history of stained glass. It was really interesting.

As we were leaving we heard noise echoing through the museum and came upon a large hall where two women were doing an interpretative dance around some sculptures while a man was drumming (above). It was so strange to hear such a racket in a place usually so reserved and quiet. The women were dressed in slacks, button up shirts and ties, which looked like a guard's uniform. They would dance in sync, sometimes going through the crowd- it was funny to watch people's reactions as they came closer. It was so odd- I don't quite know what else to say.

While Painton and I grabbed a bite to eat, an interactive light and sound display started up outside the restaurant. There were three large screens, maybe about ten feet tall, five feet wide. People could walk, run, dance, skip, whatever, in front of them and the display would correspond to the movements.

The actual "scene" would change- sometimes it was a line, sometimes it was white noise, sometimes a solid color. The colors of the screens and the type of noise would change as well (Left and above). Is it art? I'm not sure but it was mesmerizing.

The next piece I had seen the beginnings of while walking through the Tuileries the day before. I was intrigued by these strange steel sculptures all through the garden. It turned out that a group had made them in order to create 2000 points of fire. What I had seen ended up being a small "fence" (for lack of a better word.) If you imagine the small, low, chain barriers that keep you off the grass at a park, and then at every post there was a flower pot. And instead of plants in each, there was fire.

These flower pots were also used in these "fire orbs" (right). There were dozens of them on the main path of the Tuileries. You can sort of see them behind the one in the front of the picture. It was really amazing to see so much fire. Painton joked that only in France would you have children running around so much open flame without barriers. It was a bit unnerving- if you weren't looking, you might walk into one of those flowerpot fences if you weren't looking where you were going.

The picture to the right is one of the many moving pieces. There was a fire in the pot at the bottom and the man on the right could turn a wheel to bring the pot closer or further away from the pipe. That would then affect the fire coming out of the top. It might stop coming out of the top and then the man would turn the wheel and fire would shoot out.

The sculpture on the right is a metal mesh pipe filled with coals. There was a pair every twenty feet of so and some had just been lit but some had been burning for a while, like the one on the left. People would blow on them or the wind would blow and sparks would go flying.

The Then and Now

2007-10-19T22:16:00.000+02:00

When I was first considering this trip, I was going to go The Prague Quadrennial in June to see the exhibits, meet other people in theater and experience the city and then bum around Europe, I guess. Because, why not? Then two things happened: I was offered a summer job as Costume Designer/Coordinator at Brevard Music Center and attended the U/RTAs, preliminary interviews for graduate school. I realized that I wasn't quite ready for grad school and that if I wanted to have more of a "choice" of where to attend school, I'd have to work on some things, primarily my drawing. The job was also something I didn't think I could turn down; it was a great opportunity. So I enrolled in a drawing class while in New Haven and, when June came around, went down to North Carolina. The thought of Europe, and even what to do in the fall, was put off. A little fear and denial, I suppose.

I started thinking about it again when I asked Jane Greenwood what I should go with my life after Long Wharf and she said, "Go to Europe for a while and draw a lot and buy a new wardrobe!"

I was at someone's house for dinner while I was at Brevard and he had tons of books about Paris. People were looking at them and I blurted out that I was thinking of going to Paris in the fall. I had thought about it and maybe mentioned it to some people before but I figured, if I spoke about going to Paris, I'd have to hold myself it. Immediately, Brad, Jo and Daniel said they were coming for New Years so now I definitely had to act on it.

So now I am here, but now with a purpose. I am taking four classes: a French class at the Alliance Française, and three classes at Parsons-Paris. (It was featured on the last season of Project Runway and, I hope, maybe this season, too!?!? Cross your fingers!) The French class I realized is a necessary evil (I haven't spoken French in 5 years), that really is not as evil as I remember it being in high school. I had to take a placement test and at the end of it, I was pretty proud of myself but the person who corrected it just gave me this smile that seemed to say, "poor, silly girl, but you'll do great!"

The teacher speaks ridiculously quickly but I think, in the end, it will be a good thing. I don't speak particularly quickly and the teacher always gives me funny looks, tilts her head to the side and squints when she tries to understand what I am saying. We work from the same sort of workbooks that you would have in high school and use the same sort of themes- What do you like to go on vacation? What are the different parts of a newspaper? The people in the class are amazing- there are people from Peru, Boliva, Spain, Hungary, Madagascar, Angola and Turkey and we all stumble through it together. It's interesting to hear people speak French with different accents. The class gets a little easier everyday and I hope it will make a difference.

At Parsons I am taking Fashion Illustration, Figure Painting and Textile Design. The Fashion Illustration is interesting because I have rarely drawn real life models wearing clothes, usually it's been from a picture, but I think it's going to be really good for me. At the first Figure Painting class we drew from a nude model and the teacher wanted us to use all these techniques my last figure drawing teacher hated, so it was a bit of a struggle. Because of the strike, my Textile Design class was canceled but that just leaves something to look forward to next week!

The Beginning

2007-10-17T09:11:00.000+02:00

When I arrived in Paris, my father’s friend Painton met me at the Gare de Nord train station. It was nice to arrive to a friendly face, though I’d never met him before and, like he described himself in an email, he looks a lot like Jack Nicholson. Though I was supposed to stay with a friend of his, that fell through and I stayed in a hotel for four nights. Though a bit expensive, it was a good motivation to find an apartment.

(At the first hotel, one of the guys at the front desk was hitting on me and said, in practically the same breath, "In France, we do four cheek kisses. In the US, do you have season four of Desperate Housewives yet?" I unfortunately had to tell him I had no idea and escape back to my room.)

I realized there was a small flaw to my plan about living in Paris for a few of months- I have never actually had to look for an apartment before. And now I was looking for one in a language I haven't spoken in six years. The first day I met up with my friend Alicia from summer stock last year. She's spending her junior year in Paris. We went to the American Church because everyday they put up postings of apartments or rooms to rent and employment opportunities. I took down some information but didn't really act on it.

That night I met up with Selena. We'd never met before but were put in touch with each other because we have a mutual friend that knew the both of us were, at least temporarily, moving to Paris. She's a clown and is studying circus arts for a year. We went to an awful art opening- so awful that no one was actually in the gallery, they all were standing in the street drinking and talking. Selena told me I should show up to the American Church much earlier in order to get something. Apparently by noon, everything is taken.

So the next day I got up early and called all the people on the new posts, as well as dozens from classifieds. A lot were already taken but I did get to see one apartment. It was okay but I wasn't chosen. I did get very nervous because there was an Australian guy complaining at the church about looking for an apartment for a month. Something I could not afford nor looked forward to.

After another sleepless, anxious night, Sunday was when it all turned around. I called a woman, Marie, who was absolutely batty but seemed to like me so I went with it. She has a loft above her studio space that she rents to students. She's very particular and ranted on about how Americans don't pick up the jam jar when it falls out of the fridge. When I met Marie she was wearing a flowing sea foam green mu mu and a coral scarf wrapped around her head. She had thick eyeliner on that was the exact same color as her dress. The room was blue- the beams had been painted blue, there were posters of blue paintings, the beds were blue. The floor was covered with dozens of circular straw mats, plants, and cardboard drawers (also blue) you'd find at Ikea. After ranting so long about how much she hates mess, I couldn't believe she had so much stuff. I would have to share this room with another student and sometimes Marie, when she was working too late and didn't want to drive back to her house in the suburbs. As crazy as she was- she did remake the other girl's bed while we were there because a little bit of the sheet was sticking out, I kind of liked her and the room.

However, I had also seen another room that was very, very tempting- and free. I had found it through my mother's friend's boyfriend's nephew's wife's mother's friend. Amazing! This friend, Mme. F, lives in a beautiful building next to the Pantheon, near the Sorbonne and the Luxembourg gardens, in the Latin quarter. The former mayor of Paris also lives in the building. Because it is such a nice place, naturally there are old maid's chambers. These are dozens of small rooms on the top two floors, that are accessed through a secret door. Mme. F has one of these rooms but doesn't have the right to rent it (lots of paperwork and French bureaucracy- yuck!) so if I stayed there, I would only have to pay for electricity. Which is basically free, when compared to the 600Euro I would have had to pay for the shared room. The room is probably about 10x10, has a mattress on the floor, a small sink and two burners, and a shower. And a window with an incredibly view.

I have to admit, I was torn. But just a little while. I didn't really want to live alone- I'd been warned by several people that Paris can be a very lonely city. While the one room apartment was in a great location, I was kind of intrigued by the bohemian loft with the crazy painter lady. Then I came to my senses and chose the free apartment.