I'm Eating Fruit Cocktail

Okay, so the title would've worked better if I wrote this a few hours ago and was, well, still eating fruit cocktail. In any case, I like the title, so just humour me and let me run with it.

After studying for my partiels (mid-terms) into the wee hours of the morning, I found myself surprisingly awake a few hours later and ready to take my exams. They went well; I think I overstudied for one and understudied for the other (which usually tends to be the case). After the exams (around 12h00), Trevor and I went back home and had lunch (unsurprisingly, more eggs and croque-monsieurs), and watched my (and apparent only one of his) favourite French movie(s), Les Choristes. Following the movie, Trevor went back downstairs to take a nap and I found myself somewhat inspired to work on my FURSCA proposal, depite the uncertainties surrounding it. I worked on the paper a little too long and eventually missed watching Slumdog Millionaire, but was at least able to meet up with Trevor and Camille at Odéon. Together, we walked to a crêperie (which happened to be the one right across from the theatre where we saw "La Cantatrice Chauve", and ended up buying paninis for dinner. Following our meal, we went to the Caveau de la Huchette, where we were eventually met up by Jill, Sam, and two of their friends from BU and who are currently studying in Grenoble. We had originally gone there for the jazz, but were soon surprised to see an open dance floor. However, there was only room for us in a little alcove in the back, so we ended up "dancing" (theoretically) back there.


After the Caveau de la Huchette, we trekked our way across the river to Duc des Lombards. Once again, after midnight, there's a great jam session (that's also free to watch), where people just randomly (or not) come up on stage to join whomever else is there. Somehow (and to my amazement) they always sound very good. One of my favourite bits was a solo by a guy playing one of those duo-djimbe-type-drums. I have no clue what that's called, but perhaps you know what I'm talking about anyway? Oh, of note, we all sat in the balcony looking down on the musicians. It was so great; I've confirmed Duc des Lombards to be my favourite jazz club so far in Paris.


Following our jazz evening, Trevor and I went back to my room and made some chocolat chaud (which is pretty much a common occurrence every night, if you haven't caught on to that one yet). I also figured out that each box of milk is 1L, and each serving is 0,25L. With this said, we finished a litre of milk in one day (we had some with lunch, as well). I must say I'm quite a fan of this hot chocolate. To end the night, I attempted to catch up on all of my blogging but obviously didn't finish as I'm wrapping up just now.

I would also like to note that yesterday marked our one-month anniversary here in Paris. I can't believe how quickly time has flown by here!

Let's Play Catch-Up! (Part III)

To continue with the brief points of the day, our first weekend flew by and was definitely action-packed:

SATURDAY
Only two things were listed on our schedule: a voyage to an assigned part of Paris and a comedy show. My group was assigned Le Marais. It’s a pretty eclectic part of this wonderful city, marked in general terms as the home to gay, Chinese, and Jewish communities. We finished our self-guided tour of the area and, having finished early, we took a break from the cold and found a café in close proximity to the comedy site. En route to the meeting site, we came across two demonstrations in the streets. At the Comédie République, we saw a comédie française about the cross-cultural clash and rent between a French Catholic woman and a French Muslim man. It was completely in French and after a long time walking around Paris in the cold, it was a bit difficult to pay attention or to just even understand the play completely. Afterwards, Trevor and I had our first prepared meal that ended up only being a pseudo-dinner (which consisted of a baguette, some cheese (of which Trevor found emmental to be his new favourite), and red wine), as a result of a rendez-vous with Gerald, Jill, and Sam. With little difficulty, Trevor and I made it to our meeting place with them; Jill spoke with a woman at a jazz club (Chez Papa), who told us to come back later that evening, as they were still serving dinner. Having about 2,5 hours to get through before we could get back to Chez Papa, the five of us were basically lassoed into a restaurant. After eating another croque monsieur, alongside my carafe of water, I ended the dinner with a very rich and dark chocolate mousse. As I ate it, I had to keep pushing myself to finish it and eventually triumphed. It was that chocolate-y. Following dinner, we returned to Chez Papa, with Trevor being extremely giddy, particularly through the first part of our stay there. Gerald, Jill, and Sam got a bottle of rosé, while Trevor and I had a 2005 red of some kind, alongside a cheese plate and baguette. The music was amazing and Trevor and I especially were enthralled by "the guy with the dreads." During the break, our waiter moved us closer to the jazz trio and we ended our stay there perfectly satisfied with the evening. As I type, Trevor is still looking for his perfect jazz trio of stand-up bass, drums, and clarinet.

SUNDAY
I joined Christine and Elisabeth in their walk over to the church for Mass. The church pamphlets list the names of two saints, but I think the chapel we had the service in was devoted to Saint Thérèse of the Infant Jesus. Christine dropped of Elisabeth with the other Sunday school children in another part of the church, and soon joined me. I couldn’t quite understand all of the scripture readings, but was able to get through most of the priest’s homily with little difficulty. I was able to pray the Notre Père with everyone, but soon realised that I haven’t committed the Creed to memory just yet. Afterwards, Trevor and I ate dinner with Antoine, Christine, Elisabeth and Stanislas. Christine told us that she was up until about 3 or 4am preparing our lunch. She made pintade, a cooked guinea fowl in an amazing sauce, as well as a galette de rois. Literally, a galette de rois would be translated as a kings’ cake. On the Epiphany (La Fête des Rois which, this year, was on the 7th of January), a little bean (la fève, usually in the shape of a shepherd) is cooked within the cake. The cooked version is then cut into slices and (usually) the youngest child goes under the table and randomly calls out people’s names to whom a slice of the cake is delivered. Whomever has the fève is crowned king or queen. As Christine made the cake, she said that she put two fèves inside. Stanislas got the first one, while I got the second. Stanislas chose Elisabeth as his queen and, as I couldn’t possibly let Trevor escape from the experience, made him court jester (though, I don’t know if I ever told him that) and said he had to wear a crown, too. At the end of the meal, Elisabeth gave me a drawing for her skiing in the mountains.

Then, I FINALLY got to see my host family from Noisy-le-Roi! Just on time, Marie-Léone and Paul drove up in front of the building; for some reason or another, I didn’t quite seem to recognise them at first, but as soon as I got in the car with them, it was as if I had never really left (one difference being that Paul’s voice has definitely gotten deeper). At the house, I gave them some gifts from the States (Marie-Léone loved the Target bags), and soon found out that Paul received a Mac and basically converted the rest of the family to it. (Errghh…) It’s quite brilliant, though, for the work he does with music. After I pretty much had enough of Paul’s showing off of what his computer can do, we went downstairs and had some wonderful hot chocolate. I took mine with some baguette, just as I had done about two and a half years ago in that very kitchen. Wow, time certainly has flown by! Following this wonderful return to memory lane, Marie-Léone brought me to a few of the host families that hosted students when my seminar class stayed in Noisy-le-Roi. To my pleasant surprise, they all remembered me, especially my faux hawk. For some reason or another, they speak much quicker French there than in Paris; yet, I understood them a bit more easily and was quite able to carry on a conversation with them. Following a couple exchanges (of which Marie-Léone pointed out that telling the same stories, particularly of my time in South Africa, was giving me good practice), we returned back to the house where I had dinner with Marie-Léone, Paul and France (who has also grown up since I last saw her). It was then time to leave and after being reminded and encouraged to come back to visit for a longer period of time, made my way back to Paris. En route to the building, I got a text from Trevor saying that he was at yet another jazz club. I soon made my way to a jazz club called Sunrise Sunside. It was a bit more cramped than Chez Papa, but it definitely felt more like a jazz club. Apparently, Trevor, Jill, and Sam had been there all day, and were back for the jam session. People from the audience joined in and people swapped places every now and again. It was rather hectic but great to see how everyone gelled together once they started playing.