What makes Paris special?

• The harder the bread's crust, the better quality it is. (Your jaw just gets a workout.) More holes also means you chose wisely. When you take the bread from the basket on the table, set it beside your plate, not on it. Tear off pieces instead of biting.


• Ready to flush? The button is on the top of the toilet. Sometimes there are two. The small is for a delciate unloading. When things get messy, use the large button.


• Many French bathrooms have abandoned boy and girls profiles on their doors. There aren't any rules about what bathroom you can use. I had a few brief moments of confusions the first times I saw a man walk out of the stall. This practice can come in handy when bathrooms are designate according to sex; we all know how long the women's line gets when the men's room is sitting empty....


• Smoking teenagers is a common sight. They pay no attention to the FUMER TUE (SMOKING KILLS) labels plastered across cigarette cartons.


• The French don't write their senators. Instead they protest with a group of people and signs or go on strike.


• The rumors are not true. The average French woman does shave her legs and armpits. However, scented deodorant is too unnatural for some.


• The French are behind with technology, but the situation is improving.


• A true Parisian sits or stands on the metro and stares, all dejected looking, at the floor. If someone happens to be looking elsewhere, it is probably because he or she is staring at you. It doesn't seem to be considered impolite here.


• France revolves around Paris.


• Most Parisians leave their car at home and take the metro. It's not like there are any parking spots to be had anywhere. At busy times (or when the RER is striking), the bodies pack in like sardines. I've gotten closer to French people than I ever wanted to.


• The smell is unique, like an unpleasant melange of pee, sweat, poop, and smoke. It's always potent int he metro. (As my Uncle Dave pointed out to me, that's why Paris is known for perfume!)


• Keep your fork in your left hand and your knife in your right. Switching is unnecessary.


• Milk is for the morning. I was informed by Heloise yesterday that Americans are weird because they eat milk with dinner. My host mom also thinks that it will give you a tummy ache if you don't heat it.


• Breakfast isn't fancy, but the French are more likely to take the time to sit down for it. I have toast and tea every morning.


• The customer is always wrong.


• At a restaurant, checks aren't split. The waiter gives you one check and you split it among yourselves. (There are more waiters and less waitresses than in America.)


• Don't lean over the counter and try to speak with someone. Wait to be addressed, or you'll come across as rude.


• Men can wear purses and scarves too.


• Phones are for business, not talking. State your business and hang up. (This is changing some with cell phones.)


• The French are guaranteed at least five weeks of vacation per year.


• Most stores closs on Sunday. You have to pay attention to which bakeries, restaurunts, etc. are open in your area. You can always count on visiting the Marais district. Their large Jewish population means doors are normally open.


• Family dinners are still important.


• Kids go to school for longer each day, but they have large lunch breaks and wasted time. They are graded on a scale of 20, not 100. Children are expected to chose a career sooner than Americans. "Le bac" is the important exam students take at the end of high school. Their score determines which schools they can enter. Normally the track they chose leads them to the occupation they will have for the rest of their life. There is not the liberty to change their majors four times.


• Don't give the "Romanian" who come onto your metro car any money. He and 17 other "Romanians" all have the same story and same number of kids.


• Homeless sit in every metro stop or conveniently by the ATM on the corner. Once you are homeless in France, it is nearly impossible to break back into work. Social protections and benefits abound, but homeless on a list of people who slip through the system.


• French go to the doctor for preventative care more than Americans, who tend to go only when they are bleeding profusely or giving labor.


• T-shirts and sneakers don't pass.


• French artists are only heard on the radio to meet the government's quota for the number of songs that need a French label. Techno is popular with young people. American music is everywhere.

French Fact: France is giving a $905 million aid package to the French press. One provision gives young readers free subscriptions.

One day papers, the next fondue

There is so much to take in - like the the freezing weather outside. It's literally 32 degrees Farenheit.

I've finished classes and written three ten-page papers. I still have to finish work on my independent study of French literature, but I've decided to hold off until I'm in America. I'm trying to soak up as much Paris as I possibly can before I get on that plane in four days.

On Thursday my group had our last dinner together at the restaurunt on the corner near school. I'm going to miss taking the metro to Montmarnasse to go to class at Reid Hall. I am extremely pleased with my program and my professors. The thick scrapbook they gave us of our activities made me realize how much we've done together.

The night before we went to a one-man show titled "How to become a Parisian in one hour." We almost died of laughter. All of the Parisian stereotypes we've concluded this semester came to play. The man asked for a volunteer from the adience at one point. I stupidly started pointing to my friend Angie sitting in front of me. Of course I was the only person in the theater making any movement, so I was singled out. I got on stage and was taught to "dance like a Parisian" to Brittany Spears music in front of a couple hundred people. My friends were incredibly amused, and two of them were called on stage after that since the actor had caught onto our group of Americans. They thanked me after the show.

I have officially conquered the Louvre! I went once more to mark off the remaining rooms on my map. The mob around the Mona Lisa (or La Jaconde in French) reminds me of Americans on Black Friday.

Caroline and I went to l'Opera Garnier yesterday. We took a tour of the lavish building and imagined the people who used to visit after in was constructed in 1875. I've never seen so many variants of marble.

We also went to Emily's hand-bell concert at the American Church. Emily helps to organize our program. She is the person we go to to get maps and copies. We'll miss her helpful face.

Then a group of us went to Le refuge des Fondues to celebrate Cydney's birthday. We cooked our own chunks of steak that we dipped in sauces. We smoothered pieces of baguette in melted cheese. This popular, tiny restaurunt requires reservations, and once you get there, you have to climb over tables to get to your seat. You then eat your dinner practically sitting on your neighbor. But it is all worth it, because you get to drink out of baby bottles. Why? The story is the restaurunt once began serving drinks in baby bottles to evade a certain tax of the time. After the laws changed, it had become a tradition, so they kept it that way.

This morning I ventured into the cold and went to the far west of Paris to the modern arch called "La Defense." The touring structure lines up with l'Arc de Triomphe. I explored the Christmas market set up in front of it.

Tara and I have been talking about going up l'Arc de Triomphe all semester and finally got to cross it off our list today. It provides an excellent view of Paris that isn't too high up. A star of roads converge into a hectic circular traffic scene below.

Tonight we had a small Christmas party at Angie's apartment. It was the last time all of us will be together! We drank tea and ate cookies. Then a few of us walked down Le Champs Elysees, which is lined with trees drapped with lights. A Christmas market hugs the sidewalk leading up to La Concorde.

I'll spend the next few days bundled up visiting the places I haven't been to yet or call my favorite. After that, I get to shove too much stuff into too little suitcase, and then I'll be home for Christmas.

French Fact: Approximately 46% of a French person's salary goes to taxes.

Bringing America to Paris

I know I've been a slacker lately. I haven't been updating you on my life, but this only proves how busy I've been.

My intensive week with Professor Deanna Pelfrey ended last week. After our trip to Belgium we had a week of long classes, mulitple PR firm visits, and visits like the U.S. Embassy in Paris. On Thanksgiving we went to Le Monde, one of France's major newspapers. Between the economy and the rise of news readership online, they are hurting.



Speaking of Thanksgiving, I had the most bizarre one I've ever had! (And please do not be that person who asks if the French celebrate this holiday. Think about it - the whole pilgrim-indian thing is a bit unique to the U.S.) On Thursday night I got together with my friends Amber and Alison. We attempted to make our own American-like dinner. It was interesting to say the least. We ate on Amber's bed in her extremely small apartment. At least the mashed potatoes were yummy!



That Friday made up for any loss of tradition. Our PR class went to Disneyland Paris. (Yes, this was educational!) We spent the morning speaking with two women who work on communications for Disney. We learned all about their cultural bloopers and the anti-American resentment they were faced with when they opened. Disney was pegged as a "cultrual Chernobyl."






With a complementary pair of Mickey ears we spend the afternoon in their two parks, riding the familiar Space Mountain, Buzz Lightyear, Tower of Terror, and the Rock n' Roll roller coaster. We felt like we were back home in Florida. There were even palm trees! There were hardly any lines either.



After Disney we took the RER back to Paris and then went to Gayle's house for some real Thanksgiving food. My professor set us up with all the essentials (turkey, stuffing, mashed potatoes, sweet potatoes, etc.). The French professors wife, who works in a restaurunt, made tart-like pies that were to die for. I think that was the best apple pie I've eaten. The UF architecture program joined us too.



Right now we are jealous of the architecture program because they are officially finished. We did end classes Friday, but now I have a list of papers to write. I've got a chunk done already, but I'm really dreading the paper I have to write in French for my independent study!



This week we have a few more activities, and then it's over! I still have about 10 days to go to all the Parisian places I haven't made it to yet. The thought of leaving Paris is even more depressing than that pitiful Gator's game last night!

French Fact: This week many museums in Paris have been closed because museum workers are on strike. They are protesting reduces in staff. A class visit to the Centre de Pompidou was cancelled this week because it was closed. They French will go on strike for anything.