13 weeks in Paris

Today marks the end of my 13th week in Paris, which means that I've now matched my record for the most time I've spent outside the United States. I can honestly say that I'm not missing anything about life there except for the people! And with 23 weeks to go in Paris, I think that's a pretty good thing.

I've got a random mix of things for you in this post. First, a report on the weather: winter has arrived. The temperature hasn't climbed above 44 degrees in the last week, and most of the last few days the temperature has stayed in the 30's. Brrr!

In attempt to adjust to the sudden cold, I went with a friend on Saturday night to a place called Pho 14 in the 13th arrondisement. This is the district adjacent to mine (the 14th) and home to a solid Asian community, so there are many Chinese, Vietnamese, and Thai restaurants near Rue du Tolbiac. (Ironically, this area is about a 7-minute walk from the Place d'Italie. Little Italy is now Little Asia.) The pho was delicious and warmed us right up! This place always have a line of people at the door, and fortunately the service is very fast: you get seated wherever there's space, and your pho comes out within five minutes of ordering it. We got the beef special, which came with rare and cooked steak as well as meatballs. (The picture below shows the rare steak, but it cooked while sitting in the hot broth!)

On the way back from dinner, I snapped a picture of this ad, which is one of many particularly sexy advertisements I've seen around Paris recently. For some reason, the advent of the cold weather has prompted more than the usual amount of nudity! I'm sorry this isn't a better picture; I wanted to take a glare-free picture of the same ad in the metro, but someone added some words to it!

Darty sells home appliances. This add says: "She buys online. He goes to pick up my purchases in the store. In-store pick-up one hour later." This would be much funnier if it were advertising a clothing store, but I'll take it! There are several variations on this one, all with black-and-white photos of attractive, nearly naked people.  (And what were the other ads I've seen? There's currently a magazine cover of a totally topless woman, and it's gracing not only the sides of the kiosques but also the back of a bus!) 

Last night I got a lovely dose of culture at the Theatre du Chatelet, where my friend and I went to a concert with mezzo-soprano Anne-Sofie van Otter. She's Swedish but just released an album of traditional French songs. (It's called Douce France and is on Spotify; I'm listening to it now!) She was accompanied by piano, accordion (!), guitar, upright bass, and drums during the second half, and it was a GREAT show! Very jazzy, very European, very Parisian - I was swinging in my seat! My dad will also appreciate how excited I got when, for about twenty seconds, the guy playing the piano started whistling into Anne-Sofie's microphone as she sought to engage each of them in a bit more vocal participation. If it can happen on a stage in Paris, I really think I should pursue this as a side career... 

I crossed the Seine on the way home and obviously took a picture of the Eiffel Tower from my vantage point on the Pont Neuf:

Here's one of Notre Dame:

And the Place St-Michel, whose several Gibert Jeune bookstores now sport very festive lights:

Streets all over Paris are starting to string up their Christmas lights, but these are the only ones I've seen that are already illuminated. I think they must wait until December to turn all of them on. I can't wait! It's going to be so beautiful, and Paris is already amazing at night. 

I wandered through another grocery store this afternoon and found a couple items of interest, for obvious reasons:

Eiffel Tower spices and oils, and Eiffel Tower chocolates! 

Finally, a note on one of the stereotypes of Parisians. Falling within the very broad umbrella category of "Parisians are rude, mean, and self-centered," I've read that Parisians don't like to move out of the way on the sidewalk and in general prefer to operate as though each of them, individually, is the most important person in the world. I've had a few encounters in the last days that make me see a little bit of this. In each instance, a Parisian woman asked me to move. In terms of word choice, they were perfectly polite: "excusez-moi, pardon." But in terms of eye contact, general body language, and tone, the subtext was "stupid girl, why do you not already realize that you are in my way, and why can't you move faster?" It's hard to convey with words, but each of these encounters left me feeling a bit like I'd been lightly slapped in the face. I wasn't standing in the middle of an aisle or something else stupid; it was just like any other situation where an area is somewhat crowded and everyone's movement is somewhat impeded as a result. There's nothing to be done but get out of the way, but I have to admit I got a little bent of out shape in addition to moving. Still, if that's the worst I can report about encounters with Parisians, I think I'm in absolutely no position to complain!