Open-face PB & J and Teachers’ Strike.

Le 7 décembre 2004.
For reasons of solidarity, today there is a teachers’ strike, though I have yet to read the pamphlet stating the reasons to strike and for what cause precisely. Louise mentioned that she’d rather that they strike on a day when she was working, but I have to say my cautious side is happy enough that I don’t regularly work on Tuesdays. I find it makes my life easier if I don’t have to worry about finding all my kids from the classes to which they’ve been dispatched. Not that I think it’d be something I’d have to worry about, as only one of the professors I work with would probably strike. In explanation, teachers striking in France do not seem to include picket lines and the works, just merely that the teachers decide as a sign of solidarity to just not come to work that day. And it all appears to be rather organized; there are lists of the teachers who will not be in and where the kids from those classes will be placed. It’s more that you strike in solidarity with some cause and show your support through not working also- striking does not always seems to be to create mass chaos, though sometimes it is and does anyway.

Yesterday, due to unsliced bread and no good cutting knifes, I experimented with the finer arts of creating opened faced peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. As many people know, I have never been a fan of peanut butter. It serves a purpose and I enjoy the occasional taste of it, but am not the die-hard fans many of my friends purport to be. But wisely, I invested in a small jar and brought it with me from home. All of this leading me to enjoy two opened faced sandwiches for lunch the other day. It struck me also as being inadvertently the possible French twist to PB & J.

In addition to French-ness, I’ve come to noticed that in the evenings as I prepare my mouth rinse, I’ve taken to twisting the bottle as I finish pouring the rinse into the cap so as to avoid the usual little drip of liquid which always rests on the edge of the opening. Again, it seems to have come from pouring wine from the bottle, in a French manner, and trying not to spill it.

Between reading Adam Gopnik’s book and my own proper experiences, French bureaucracy seems to me to be something that could fill an encyclopedia. In fact, if you counted all the books available on experiences with French bureaucracy, you would probably have three times as many volumes as it takes for one Grand Larousse. Melissa received a large envelope from the CAF the other day, and we hopefully opened it thinking she’d received her allocation only to find that she was being sent a new, blank copy of the form she’d already filled out. It turns out that in French bureaucracy, you can’t just merely tell the CAF that you’ve moved to a new room in the same establishment, but that you have to actually start the process over again. We ended up finding this all out after we had put together all of our material and walking down to the monstrous CAF building at Pontiffroy – here I should comment that the CAF building gives me chills as it makes me think of the Central Central Building in Madeleine L’Engle’s A Wrinkle in Time- and waiting in line to speak with someone. While waiting, we also had to endure a sweet older lady asking us a question only to hear our accents and say “oh, you’re not French, you don’t speak French” even though I had already spoken about two sentences of explanation to her. In addition to all the other little details of the change in our housing, none of the assistants have yet to receive our October pay stubs, though Louise Plaid and I received our November pay stubs. As our attestation of payment is not acceptable to the CAF, I asked if I could give them my November slip instead of my unavailable October slip. After about ten minutes of argument and miscommunication, the man decided it would be alright to take the November pay slip- as long as I wrote out in my own blood a honor statement swearing that the bit on the November slip stating how much I received in October was truthful and the amount on my attestation was correct for my monthly salary and that my October slip was completely unavailable until January. Alright, I didn’t really have to write it in my blood, though it felt like it, and actually the guy wrote out the bulk of it for me because I only had the understanding of what he wanted me to write, and I wasn’t really sure of the proper wording. You’ll understand my dilemma on proper wording if you’ve ever read a polite French letter- the last two sentences/lines of a letter are simply the closing salutation. I’ll try to find a translation of one someday. It was after we had finally work everything out, asked all the questions we needed- including many “je ne comprende pas” to get the man to clarify what he had said, and had some sheets printed out for us, that we finally left. In reality, it all took about thirty minutes. We went back to Carrefour, so I could leave the papers I needed to have to them fill out for me, where we had Nicolas tell us that the whole process was bête, or stupid, and I tactfully kept myself from agreeing with him verbally, as all I really wanted was to agree and denounce French bureaucracy to him. For it was also his associate who had told me when I went to send in my attestation that I didn’t need to inform the CAF that I was now in a studio- studios get more money back from CAF than rooms do. Thank heavens though for Martine who is one of the most efficient French persons I have ever met- she’s the one who had to tell us to go to the CAF, but at least she was willing to admit that they didn’t have the solution at Carrefour, instead of just telling us some made-up reason and then letting our forms sit in the office for a month. After all that fun at the CAF, tomorrow I get to go to the Social Security office and try to tackle them with my November pay slip, because they too need my October pay slip. Hopefully my blood honor statement will also appease them. If someone wants to come along with me, that would be useful, because I’ve found that the more foreigners they have to do with at once, the more likely they are to become exasperated and desperate for us to leave, thus the more likely to give me what I want. The overwhelming technique has become my favorite one to use with French bureaucracy- especially when you have a German, an American, and a Scot all trying to get the same result. Vicious, but effective.

Tonight, we are having our Christmas as a group. It’s more disorganized than Thanksgiving, but this time easier to work out. We don’t have a set time to meet yet, but the idea consists of first hitting the St. Louis marché de Noël so Victoria and I can eat huitres, or oysters, as they are meant to be eaten and for everyone to then eat the wondrous tartefouilette and drink vin chaud. Then we will retire to our salon, probably Jen’s room, for more merriment and an old-fashioned American Yankee Swap, or a Midwestern Chinese Gift Exchange, however you prefer to call it. The main problem for me being, what to buy before the swap tonight, and something that is effectively useful and neutral so as not to overwhelm Greg with the massive female element he deals with each day. Regardless, I’m just hoping for some massive chaos, as I didn’t get to experience the strike today.

French kids are great. Yesterday in class we were working on my favorite smell, my favorite food- and they asked me how to say cuisse de grenouille (froglegs), huitres (oysters -mainly on the half shell), and fruit de mer (seafood). I have to wonder if it was to try and gross me out, but if it was, it backfired on them and they ended up having to convince me that they actually did like things like this. I told them that they were great and more often than not, kids in the States do not like food like this.

On Thursday or Friday, I will be heading to Paris for the weekend, to see Amelia and Liz before they leave, and to meet up with Thanh Ly and her sister Kim and Kristen. As I will be arriving before the weekend, and Kim will be working some, I am excited to spend time wandering around again in a Paris all dressed up in festive Noël decorations. My plan includes returning to the Jardin du Luxembourg, as Kim D and I went when I first arrived in September but was too jetlagged to remember to take photos. As it’s quite possibly my favorite place in Paris, and inspired by reading Paris to the Moon. I doubt to see the petonque players, though I have hope- I desperately miss stumbling across random old men playing in the parks in Toulouse, as hardly anyone plays in the north, or Metz at least. My excitement for the weekend also includes my first opportunity to use my carte professionelle at the Louvre, where rumour has it that I can use the carte to get in for free. As I do not have Patience with me this time to get help me get in free, I was worried that I might have to actually start paying to get into the museum. Once, Kristen and Thanh Ly arrive, we’ll be checking out the American Library and seeing more of the Christmas sights of Paris. Honestly, I’m as giddy as a child for the Macy Thanksgiving Day Parade, just to get to see Paris for Christmas!

Exciting final news for the day: Louise gets to move into a studio! Huitres for supper!