Merry Xmas!

My MIL has this tablecloth that the kids could draw on - and the above is Rudolph as lovingly depicted by Hanaya. She even drew him a little carrot. Hana is of course in on the fact that Santa does not exist - Santa, Easter Bunny, Tooth Fairy - all baby stuff now. She was also fairly shocked to discover recently that she is in fact not stronger than I am - when I informed her that I used to just let her win at arm wrestling all the time, she was genuinely surprised and blurted out, "but maman, your muscles are so small!" - well baby, time to face the fact - adults lie.

Of course, Little Manolee has no idea. She just thinks that Santa is some nice man that comes around giving away presents. That much she knows. In the last few days we even got it into her head that he does not give presents to just anyone - oh no, you have to be a nice girl. She doesn't quite get it yet though and the threat does not seem all that ...well, threatening.

This Xmas eve, Hana got dressed up as Santa and ran around my MIL's garden, while Manolee looked out in marvel and awe and squealed with delight. I asked her later, "was Santa very big?" and she replied, "oh maman, very big, Santa!". Meanwhile, Hana does not betray the fact that she is indeed my daughter, as upon re-entering the house in her Santa guise, she launched into a diatribe about how muddy her shoes got in the garden. That is my girl!

The girls were endlessly spoiled. Some stuff like candy and chocolate, they did not even look at for more than 1 second, just onto the next gift. Gift after gift, not even stopping to marvel at the stuff. It was a bit of a rude awakening for PeeWee and me. We gotta do a better job instilling in them some perspective when it comes to these things!

I had a bit of a surprise this Xmas actually. PeeWee has been going on and on about what a big present he got me - that it's such a great present, how I was gonna be in tears once I see it and feel bad that I didn't get him anything nice (he should know, last year I got him a lint brush), how he cannot wrap it because it's so big, how he won't have it under the tree because it's so big, etc etc. He was going on about this for about a week. At first I was like, whatever. But the more he went on and on and the more proud he seemed of himself, I slowly began to be convinced that he did indeed get me a great present - a great BIG present - and for me that was only one thing - a Mini Cooper. Yes, it seemed a ludicrous idea, that he would get me a CAR for Xmas, but hey, it is possible and why else would he be parading around so proud of himself at this seemingly perfect and BIG present? My only worry was, damn, my parallel parking is really rusty, can't be damaging a new car in these small French streets.

So Xmas eve when he said that my present was in the garage, I thought to myself - did I hear a car enter the garage? Did I hear the engine running? Yes, I think I heard the engine just before. So I took my time, taking care to look completely nonchalant, even bored, not to seem to be in too much of a hurry to see my BIG present.

Lo and behold, there in the basement was a big machine.

It was an elliptical machine.

A beautiful machine in and of itself, of course, but a Mini Cooper it definitely ain't!

Now I laugh at myself that I thought he would have bought me a car for Xmas. I also laugh that he was so proud of himself at having picked out THE perfect gift for me. But there you have it, I am acting just as spoiled as my kids! Of course, it is a wonderful present. Sure beats a bottle of cologne I got for him! Thank you, PeeWee! I will try to make sure the elliptical machine does more than just hold up wet laundry! (Now, a clothes dryer, that is another big machine I could use)...

On that note, Merry Xmas everyone!

French Ambiguities, Part III (Tu - Vous - Whatever)

The above is a picture of Mr and Mrs Jacques Chirac, the former French president. After decades of marriage, apparently they still "vous" each other - as in "je vous aime" rather than the more intimate, "je t'aime". They do look a bit uptight, no?

Herein lies another cultural ambiguity I experience almost on a daily basis - the "tu" versus the "vous", or in English, "you" versus the "you" - see what I mean? For me, you is you is you! I tend to default to the "tu" because for me that is not only easier to conjugate, but I also just don't see the point of "vous". I noticed, however, that some people, notably some moms at the school, default to the "vous" when addressing me. Only after I repeatedly use the "tu" do some of them also start to "tutoyer". However, there are some moms that resolutely maintain the "vous" with me, as if "I would rather not get too close to you" - at least that is how I interpret it.

If the rule is always just use the "vous", say, outside your immediate family, I think I could live with that. However, at some point in the relationship, the "vous" becomes "tu" and where and what that point is, I think is very hard to figure out, and sometimes hard to agree on.

The confusion gets compounded because "vous" can also mean "tu" in plural. For people who pride themselves in the intricacies of their language, this lack of precision is quite astounding in my view. So someone who has been "tu"-ing me suddenly can ask me something with a "vous", meaning me and the girls, for example- and that throws me off and I start to "vous" back to the person, when I am just talking about her. Then the other person gets confused and starts "vous"-ing me back, thinking that I all of a sudden want to start being more formal. Confusion all around. Avoidable? Not in French!

A friend advised me to just ask "on peut se tutoyer?" (can we "tu" each other?) - however, what if that person ever says no? What to do then? Being a foreigner, I can get away with just "tu"-ing everywhere, I guess. But when the rights and wrongs are so unclear, I just find myself more annoyed than anything else...

Green or Stingy?

So I went to buy some candy to stuff into the kids' Xmas stockings. Above is what my purchases looked like coming out of the store.

Do you see the ends of the candy sticking out? So much so that I had a hard time grabbing the bag's two handles together on the way home!

I noticed that in France (and to some extent, other European countries I have been to), when you ask for something that you expect to be free (as in the US), you may get it but either begrudgingly (e.g., tap water), ill-fittingly (reference picture above), sparingly (e.g., one single napkin instead of a whole wad; two ice cubes instead of a whole cup full), or you have to pay for it. Witnessed at a McDonalds in Brussels last October, where an American Woman (AW) asked for extra ketchup, and the cashier said "15 centimes". The AW said, "what?", when the cashier repeated and the AW said, "what are you saying? I don't understand you", then grabbed the ketchup and started to walk away. Being a good citizen, I interjected and said, she is charging you for the ketchup. The AW was absolutely aghast, and said "I thought that is what she was saying, but I could not believe it!" - I sympathized, as that was my exact reaction too, at a KFC some years ago in London - see the following exchange:

Rae: Can I have some more ketchup please?
KFC Clerk: That will be 15 pence.
R: Excuse me?
KFC C: (exasperated sigh) 15 pence each extra packet.
R: (surprised) I have to pay for those?
KFC C: (losing patience): 15 pence each EXTRA packet.
R: How much is salt?
KFC C: Salt packets are free.
R: (quick on my toes as always) Can I have 12 salt packets?

I wonder, despite the Green and eco-friendly movement just recently gaining momentum elsewhere, that this is just the way the people are brought up here from way back when, that you must not use (nor give out) more than you absolutely need. In a way, I agree - when I was in college, I used to bring enough McDonalds stuff back to the dorms that I never had to buy ketchup, straws or napkins (I remain a fiercely loyal customer there to this date - wonderful memories). Stuff I actually felt entitled to, actually, since I spent good money there to eat in the first place (and often at that too). But imagine all that stuff that people take with them on their trays and then just throw out.

My good friend M. thinks that the French are just stingy. One too many times she has been galled by second-hand giftwrap paper, wrinkles and remnants of scotch tape in all the wrong places. Maybe the wartime mentality of never having enough that has lingered on and passed through this generation - is her theory. I'm not sure. But in any case, I sure wished for a larger bag for the candy because when I went to pick up the girls from school straight afterwards, I had a hard time trying to hide what was inside that itsy bitsy bag!

French Ambiguities, Part II (La - Le - Les - Whatever)

Why do nouns need sex?

Why LE chapeau but LA chemise? Why LA main but LE pied?

Who gave a gender to each and every noun in French and whatever for?

This must stump every student of the French language. At least in Spanish and Italian, it's pretty straightforward - if the noun ends in an "a", it's a pretty sure bet that it is a female noun. In French, however, there just seems to be no rhyme or reason why one noun is masculine, but another is feminine.

To make matters worse, the French act as though they have no idea what you are saying if you get the gender wrong; they don't understand the whole sentence if one gender is  wrong. I was given a key for the mailbox some time ago. I asked the guy, "ah, un seul cle?" ("ah, a single key?") - the guy looked at me as though I had two heads, with a look of complete bewilderment and confusion. He asked me to repeat. I repeated, twice, pointing at the key. Then it hit him and he says, "ah, UNE seule cle!" - Hello? Just because I got the UNE confused with UN, he had no idea what I was talking about? What about taking a bit of context into the equation?

It's not like the UNE and the UN are pronounced similarly, in which case I could just mumble the gender and hope to be understood. No, the UNE sounds very different from UN, unfortunately. I have an issue with the LA and LE as well. I am rather partial to LES personally, which cleverly and thankfully disguises the gender question - until you start writing, in which case all the other parts of the sentences have to change to accommodate the sex of the noun. Why so complex?

It's rather embarrassing when little kids get the gender right, but I cannot seem to retain the right sex for some of the words. It's like my friend S. was saying - foreigners walk around saying "je veux eau" - literally, I want wanter - and wonder why nobody understands. Whereas French kids learn words with definite articles, so "je veux de l'eau" (again, "I want water" but with extra complex grammatical rules added in for some incomprehensible reason).

Until someone can explain to me why nouns have sex and the reasons behind the assignment of said sex, I don't think I will ever get it right 100% - file this under another ambiguity uniquely French...

Loving Lunchtime Sans Kids

Here in France, elementary schools run 4 days a week - meaning, on Wednesdays the kids have the day off - so two days on, two days off. Though I like to joke that this arrangement is to prepare the kids for the 35-hour working week, it does make sense to me  to give the parents and the kids a break from the morning rush in the middle of the week. Of course, it's not an ideal situation for dual-working parents, but something tells me that it is assumed that the mother stays home...

Because the other thing about elementary schools here is that the kids have a choice of staying to eat at the school cafeteria or to eat at home. And to me, it appears that most kids do actually go home for lunch - I live across the street from school, and every school day at 11:30, there is a throng of moms and grandparents lining up to get into the school gates. Then again at 1:30 when the kids are brought back. This is sheer madness to me. 

Hana has already asked me a number of times if she can eat at home and my answer is invariably a firm "no". I cannot imagine, with all the "stuff" I have to do, to also worry about what to feed the kids that they would actually eat, and go back and forth to the school, all smack in the middle of the day! Granted, we live so close, but still, is it bad of me to see it as an intrusion on my me-time? Schools are supposed to feed them a nutritious balanced meal, right? Probably better than what I can prepare - though I like to cook nutritious meals, it is another thing altogether to ensure that they actually eat them, and I think ensuring that would be too stressful at lunch. Cute as they are (see picture above), I can quite do without them for one meal a day (no hysterics over who gets the pink cup, Manolee fingering all of Hana's food, drinks spilled, sleeves sullied, etc etc). So I feel quite justified in maintaining that firm "no".

So why is it that - whenever a mom asks me whether the kids lunch at home, my answer is habitually, "no, not today" - giving the somewhat misleading impression that they do sometimes... I feel somewhat sheepish, that it is something that I should be doing, a maternal duty that I am neglecting... Sigh. Supermom I am not, that is for sure.

French Ambiguities, Part I

I worked in new product development for 6 years. One of the things I would always jot down twice a year for my self-appraisals (for performance reviews) was: thriving in an ambiguous environment.

In France, I seem to face ambiguities left and right.

The cheek-kissing, that the French are so fond of, is just one example. Now, I rather like the kissing; it forces you to stop and acknowledge the person you are greeting, rather than a half-hearted "hey how are ya" while you are already going past the person. However, it's very ambiguous how many times you kiss the person's cheeks. At first I was told it was regional. Parisians, with the hustle and bustle that comes with big city life, kiss twice; the southern French kiss four times, and in some other regions like Brittany people kiss three times. No rhyme or reason why - at least nobody can explain to me why this is the case. Also aggravating is the fact that there always seems to be someone who lives by the exception - and I have often experienced that subtle jutting of the cheek only to be rebuffed, or puckering up only to be spurned. How do the French themselves know? Or do they just accept that occasional fleeting embarrassing nanosecond as a minor nuisance? Being a foreigner here, I rather hate the thought of performing a faux-pas, and always feel very embarrassed.

The French start kissing at a very early age. They kiss very freely. They kiss very frequently. The first time you are introduced to a someone on a street, they kiss you. You say goodbye to that person one minute later, there they are again, kissing you. And 99% of the time, it's a genuine kiss smack on the cheeks, not air kisses. Men do not shy away from kissing one another. By far the most kissing I ever saw done was at a New Year's Eve party, where there were 4 kisses to each and every person present - it was way over the top for me, not to mention exhausting (especially when they do not start eating dinner until after the midnight kisses!)

I'm ok with all the kissing. I just want to know how many to each person! Even with my American or English friends here we kiss now (hmm, but now that I think about it, we usually do two instead of three that is prevalent in Brittany - where did that come from?? As in, we-are-not-really-from-here mentality?). Kinda funny, but I guess when in Rome...! There has been no anti-kissing movement that I've heard of, even when the "gastro" viruses seem endemic, so I guess I just have to learn to deal with this ambiguity!

Misbehaving Manolee, Part I

After breakfast this morning, Manolee "takes me" to the bathroom. While I am holding onto her on the toilet, I let out a big yawn. She looks up and speaks:

Manolee: Maman, why you so tired?

Rae: Because you came into my bed last night

M: Yeah?

R: And when you come into my bed, I sleep v badly. Why did you come into my bed?

M: Because I woke up and I thought I was going to cry and cry and cry. (Giving me at this point a challenging, order-defying look). Why, is that a PROBLEM? 

The Thing About Toilet Seats

So we went to get a new toilet seat today for our new flat. I insisted on changing it, though PeeWee was reluctant (hello? Why does this even require a thought? As though this was an unnecessary splurge - hello?)

So I drag him to a DIY place and I told him we will be quick since we are just picking a toilet seat and I just want something basic.

Hello toilet seat aisles!! Holy crap! There were two aisles! A plethora of toilet seats, a veritable extravaganza. Not just diversity in styles and colors, but in sizes! HELLO!? Why do toilets vary in size? Why? Who knew? What, homebuilders actually choose what size toilet seats they want? Based on what? It reminded me of what my friend C. once said, about buying a place in Jersey and facing the decision of what type of grout to choose for the bathroom. Why oh why make life so complicated? The thought of going back to the flat without a new toilet seat, and the thought of actually having to measure the seat from the last owner just about made me ill.

PeeWee was not v helpful (after all, he did not know about the different sizes either), he just kept on making fun of transparent toilet seats (his comments frankly I did not understand - I think he thinks the purpose of having toilet seat covers is to hide what is underneath in the bowl - hello? The bowl should ideally be empty of any material so ideally there should be nothing to hide, yes? So it is of no consequence really whether the seat cover is transparent or opaque - HELLO!? But actually now that I am writing this in a relative calm state of mind, I think I prefer transparent seat covers - with French toilets, one never really knows whether you have accomplished the flush successfully with no residue the first try.

Anyway I was in no mood to enlighten him that the cover is to prevent germs from sprouting out when you flush, and I think he saw that I was devastated about not knowing which toilet size to get, so he tried to be helpful and said that he thinks our toilet is on the small side and that we should just pick one anyway. So I pepped up a bit, and immediately chose a bright orange one for 29.99 euros. Now it was his turn to go ballistic. He looked at me as though I had three heads, huffed and said, Fine, whatever you want, you choose, right? I was like, does that mean you don't like it? He continued to huff and split out rather vehemently, "No, I don't like it, I don't want it in orange" - I was left stunned... why oh why?

Fine - so in order to maintain peace in the household, I compromised and picked a silverish/grey one - the pipes in the bathroom are grey, so would be ok. He seemed appeased with that choice and stopped puffing.

We are still not sleeping at the new flat yet, so we came back to my mother-in-law's house, and the suspense is rather intense whether the seat is the right size or not... stay tuned... but if it does not fit, I am gonna go return it and get a transparent one! PeeWee will really have a conniption then and I am gonna have to give him a formal lesson on the purpose of the different parts of the toilet seat cover! 

Life in Rennes...

...has been pretty good for me since school started in late August. After two months of taking care of the girls largely on my own (what a shocker - it's such hard work!), all-day schooling was certainly a welcome relief! Manolee is in Pre- Pre- Pre-K-equivalent (Petite Section Accueil, they call it here), and Hanaya is in the second grade (they call that CE1 here - so technical, no?). Manolee had a tough time adjusting for the first two weeks, but is doing much better now, especially since she's found a couple of admirers in her class (stories of kisses from boys have already started... ah.. these French boys!)

What I can tell you is that life abroad very often means looking forward to the next visit stateside - for us, that will be at the end of October 2007 - we will be seeing many of you soon (in between the all-important and frequent trips to Target!)! 

Write us! You know how to reach me if you are reading this!

Parent-Teacher Conference

So the Maternelle (nursery) part of the school held its first parent-teacher night today. PY and I were model parents, showing up on time and sitting close to front, me with my notebook and pen in hand, ready for some all-important information about what and how our baby daughter is doing at school. She is in Toute Petite Section (for 2-1/2 year and 3 year olds)

Here is what we learned of what she is doing:

8:30 - 8:45 Settling in

8:45 - 9:15 Free play

9:15 - 9:30 Toilet time

9:30 - 9:40 Table activity (stickering, drawing, etc)

9:40 - 10:00 Story time

10:00 - 10:10 Travel up to the English room

10:10 - 10:30 English song and dance and rhymes

10:30 - 10:50 Free play

10:50 - 11:20 Recess (not sure how this differs with Free play)

11:20 Lunch

1:20 - 1:30 Toilet time

1:30 - 3:00 Nap time

3:00 - 3:50 Free play and clean-up

3:50 - 4:20 Recess

4:20 Get ready for "mamans"

4:30 Pick up

Nice life! Not sure why kids cling to their parents at drop-off. I would love a day like this, no?

As to HOW Manolee is doing - well, apparently pretty good for a girl who still mixes English and French. Apparently she is great in the English session, always the first to answer the teacher right away, and apparently, the teacher sees this as providing the other children something to aspire to! Go Baby!

Germaphobia in France?

What strikes me during my many many trips to various retail stores in France is how the cashiers do not hand over your receipt and change directly to your hand - no, they have this little plastic tray on the counter and that is where these things are supposed to go. Out of habit, I always stick out my hand, expecting the slight pressure of coins and receipt in return - but NO the cashiers aptly ignore this outstretched hand and invariably drop the said coins and receipt on the tray.

Hmmmm. Am miffed by this experience, which happens over and over again. Is it that they have  germs on their hands that they do not wish to transmit to their customers (it's true, I do not see butchers or patissiers or such people using gloves anywhere! And they handle money!), or is it that they think I look suspiciously germ-ridden? Hmmmmm indeed. It's one of these local customs that takes some time getting used to.

Going once! Going Twice! It's Ours!!

I participated in my first non-ebay auction today... for a car! We had gone the day before to see what cars would be on offer - I do not drive manual so we were on a hunt for an automatic - and there was indeed a very nice looking automatic Renault with little mileage on it - there were actually two automatic cars - out of 600! We looked at it and sat in it and turned it on; the car felt nice and as automatic cars come up so rarely, we decided to go for it.

The estimation of the car's value was at 6500 euros, and PY and I decided that we would bid up to 7600 - since the French equivalent of the Kelley Blue Book had its value at around 8500 and we had to pay 11% in fees.

The auction itself was fascinating! The cars were driven up on this stage one by one, two men with mikes hosting the bidding - and it was all done so fast! I could sense that PY was getting a bit nervous as our car was about to turn up. The bidding started at 5500 and there were, gasp, two people who bid before us. Then PY raised his hand at 6200 - - and the car was ours!!

How cool is that? We now own a fairly decent car! Our first car with air conditioning! Our first car with a CD player! Our first car with collision detection radar! Our first car that is mildly clean that we can see through the windows really well! We've only ever owned junk cars so this is a BIG deal for us! Totally psyched!

Of course we were not allowed a test drive, and we had to leave the car at the auction house until we get our insurance, so here is hoping that it ain't a lemon!

The Obligatory Bonjour/Au revoir

So the thing about shopping for me is not to get too much attention from the shop people. I like to walk in inconspicuously, browse at my leisure if I have the time, then get out quickly without much pleasantries. When I last visited Korea there were like hordes of shop people who came from all directions to greet you and follow you around, and I remember just hating that.

Walking into a store in France, any store, and the shop people always acknowledge you and say Bonjour. It's not this cacophony of greetings that bombard you when you enter a Japanese restaurant in NY, but nonetheless, a proper Bonjour aimed right at you. I used to ignore this for a long time. They are strangers and will most likely remain that way. Walking out of stores in France, the shop people will always say Au revoir, even if you just jumped in for a second to avoid someone you didn't want to run into, even if you didn't buy anything and even if you have no intention of ever coming back to the shop again. I found this strangely quaint, but also mildly annoying.

I've since learned that in France, that is what people do - say bonjour and au revoir - with eye contact, no less! It's a manner of being polite, of I guess paying the shop people some respect. 

I've not made up my mind yet whether I like all these greetings or not. But I now find myself doing it again and again, despite myself... hmmm...

The First Day of School (in France)!

The kids were both fairly excited about starting school. The night before, Hana was practically bouncing off the walls, declaring how excited she was.

It was a fresh morning and still foggy and dark when we took off in the morning. Once we arrived, we saw that the school principal was already calling out the names of the students for each class. It was crowded and the mike was working poorly, so we strained to hear Hana's name to be called. We consulted a bulletin board and saw that she was in class CE1(2). When the teachers were introduced, I could tell that Hana was relieved to see that she had a young, pleasant-looking woman. Hana stepped up like a big girl as her name was called, looked back at us, smiled and off she went. I was so proud of her.

Of course at this point, Manolee starts having a conniption. She thought that she should be with Hana and did not understand why her big sister was stepping ahead alone. Aye - I saw with hindsight that I had prepared Manolee all wrong - I had told her all summer how she will be going to school with her big sister for the first time! I did not think to elaborate that the same school does not mean same class... thereby setting up false expectations...

We managed to extract Manolee's eyes from Hana and went downstairs to the Maternelle sections (nursery). In France, kids start school at 2-1/2 years old and it's called Petite Section. We met her teacher, Anne-Marie, who was very nice and heartily greeted us. Manolee was v happy to see the set-up of the classroom and went straight to play with the various things laid out. We explained to Anne-Maried that Manolee speaks mostly English, that she was going to a full time nursery in England, and the all-important blankie situation - then we said goodbye - me, very reluctantly, Manolee, smiling and waving us away. I thought she would cry, but she was happy to sit by herself at one of the tables and draw. Most kids were howling by then, but she just looked around and waved at us again.

We retreated to the courtyard and peeked at her through the window - we were hiding a bit but then she saw us - I thought she would cry, but she just smiled big, waved, blew kisses and went back to drawing - I was relieved - but also kinda sad!

So we went back to the rear courtyard and lo and behold, the older kids were having recess already! We saw Hana all on her own, just walking around aimlessly looking at the ground, flinching with shoulders hunched whenever someone ran past her - my heart just broke! It was so disheartening to see her alone and seemingly sad to be alone - my Hana, who is usually so outgoing and smiling! PeeWee called her out, and she was happy to see us - she didn't cry or anything, so I think all in all she was okay.... oh but it broke my heart.

So while I was more worried about Manolee before, at this point I am more worried about Hana.

Pickup time - the Maternelle classroom door opened, I saw Manolee sitting there with her backpack on, and as soon as she saw me she started to cry! The teacher said that she had a wonderful day, slept well and ate well. She said she cried only during lunch and didn't know why. We then picked up Hana, who said that she already made one friend and was all pleased with herself. She then explained that she saw Manolee through the window at lunchtime, and upon seeing her big sister, Manolee started to cry....

Well - so there you have it, their first day at a new school in France... so far okay... we shall see how this unfolds. 

Goodbye London.. Goodbye Churchill Arms...

What would I really miss about London?

It's not such a long list. But Churchill Arms would probably figure in the top 3 (non-people category), if not the very first rank. We went there virtually once every week since August 2004. Ann, Jack (who has since moved back to Thailand), Vanda (who since moved to NY), Jane, Tom, Di, Nam, David... and more... they greeted us each and every time as though we were family. They were always so good to Hanaya, and then also to Manolee when she came along. The reliably delicious food is the draw, of course, but these people are not far behind. The pic above shows all the portraits that Hana has done of the staff over time - they had posted them on the door to the restaurant section of the pub...

Churchill Arms Thai Kitchen - we will miss you!