Politics (As Usual?)

One good thing about being 3,000 miles from home is that the scary and insane aspects of American politics are somewhat muted.  Well sure, I can get all the news I want through my computer but it's not quite the same as being assaulted by the headlines everywhere you go.  The funny thing is that, while I am a long way from fully understanding French politics, I've come to realize that the French sometimes have as much too be embarrrassed about as we Americans.  Take for example, the latest poll by Harris Interactive for the 2012 French presidential race in which Marine Le Pen, head of the far right Front National, came out on top ahead of Sarkozy and the Socialist party leader Martine Aubry.  These results are debatable given that the election is still more than a year away and the Socialist party hasn't determined yet who its candidate will be (and all bets are on current International Monetary Fund chief Dominique Strauss Kahn).  But still the specter of the xenophobic Islam-baiting Front National coming out on top is enough to scare even the center silly.

Then you've got former president Jacques Chirac up to his hips in trouble for allegedly paying city salaries to employees of his political party (the UMP) back when he was mayor of Paris in 1992-1995.  The law couldn't touch him when he was president of the country (imagine that, Richard Nixon and Bill Clinton).  But now that he's a private citizen again, the judicial process has re-engaged.

Over at the Elysée, things seemed to have calmed down a bit since last week when the President had to send his minister of foreign affairs packing because she took some free flights and helped her parents get a preferential real estate deal in Tunisa -- at a time when the country was simmering with protests against now deposed leader Ben Ali.  Technically what she was doing was not against the law but the public relations fall out was pretty bad.  Sarkozy called in the reinforcements, reorganizing his cabinet with a bunch of old friends who will stand firm with him as he tries to rehabilitate his sorry poll numbers.  That cabinet, which once looked like a picture of racial, gender, and even political diversity, now looks pretty much like a club of middle aged white men.  Yeah, and all those photos of Moammar Qaddafi's official visit to France back in 2007 (complete with a tent pitched on the grounds of the Hotel Marigny, where official visitors stay)?  They're no longer anywhere to be found on the official Web site.   At least Mike Huckabee can't accuse President Obama of letting Qaddafi camp out on the White House lawn.

Accessible or Not?

The French passed a law back in 1975 to improve public accommodations for persons with disabilities.  Among other reforms, there's dedicated parking for the disabled and crossing signals for the blind.   That being said, Paris is still a pretty tough town to get around in if you're in a wheelchair or for that matter pushing little ones in a stroller or lugging a big suitcase.  Curb cuts are intermittent and charming cobblestoned roads can make for a bumpy ride.   All buses are now equipped with ramps but the Metro?  With the exception of the mostly new line 14, the subway system is a nightmare of steps, steps, and more steps. Museums vary in their accessibility and the best advice I've heard is to always do a dry run to discover the best routes and entrances if you'll be having a visitor who uses a wheelchair.

Whether the problem is lax enforcement, limited resources, or simple apathy, I can't say.  A modest sized centre commercial near us was recently renovated, a process that took the better part of two years, with apparently only limited attention to these issues.  There's still a significant step between the sidewalk and the building.  Once inside, there's a flight of about six stairs to reach the main corridor.  Where there was once a rather steep ramp (probably more useful for folks rolling shopping caddies than those using wheelchairs), there is now a small elevator which most of the time seems to be sporting this sign:

Sigh. Twas ever thus.

In Which I Am Considered an Expert of Sorts

Expat life has its glamorous and mindblowing moments.  And then there are days like yesterday when I went to the gym, did two loads of laundry, made a trip to the supermarket and the post office, baked brownies and made a lasagna, changed sheets, and had a parent teacher conference.  Not exactly the kind of life that gets you on the best seller list.  Fortunately, I will spare you additional boring details about my life and instead send you over http://www.wanderingeducators.com/  which yesterday posted an interview of...... me!  If you've been reading along here for awhile, you might find some of this repetitive.  ( But like I said, expat life has its dull moments.)  Thanks to Jessica Voigts of Wandering Educators for the opportunity.

Never a Dull Moment

You never know what's waiting for you when you head out the front door in the morning.  Yesterday, I saw:

A cherry tree in full bloom inside the courtyard of the Petit Palais.  No, spring has not progressed this far citywide.  My guess is that it's a good 10 degrees warmer inside the courtyard than elsewhere.  And if you haven't visited the Petit Palais, put it on your list.  The collection is a bit of mish mash but there are some amazing pieces.  Plus it's free.

Poulet de Bresse for sale at the butcher shop.  For 24 euros a kilo, you get to pay for the feet too.  But that is some fine chicken.

A fine equestrian show along the quai des Célestins by la Garde républicaine, I'm assuming as part of the ceremonies related to South African President Jacob Zuma's state visit.

All in all, not a bad day.

How Many Frenchmen Does It Take to Change A Light Bulb?

Just one but it sure helps if you have a crane.

This and That

An unopened jar of tamarind paste bought for some recipe, which one I no longer remember.  Half finished bottles of orange flower water and pomegranate molasses.  Three cans of sardines that I purchased mistakenly assuming they were anchovies.  Half a package of gelatin sheets.  A box of tapioca and a can of bamboo shoots left to me by departing expats.

What does this stuff have in common?  Well, it's all sitting in my kitchen cabinets or in the door of my refrigerator, and I've got about four months to use it up or toss it.  And I'm too much my mother's daughter (and she was a child of the Depression) to not wince at the thought of wasting good food.

The reality of our departure is becoming more vivid as the days pass. I'd thought about putting a countdown ticker here on my blog but happily as our exact date is not yet set, there's no point in having a depressing daily reminder of it.  In fact, I'm not sad (not yet),  just busy, both trying to take advantage of what Paris has to offer and to take care of all the practical details.  So if you have a good recipe that uses any or all of the above, send it my way.  We may be doing some pretty strange eating around here but at least we'll still be doing it in Paris.

Les Serres d'Auteuil

For the last day of February, Paris taunted me. The day started sunny with blue skies but by 10:00, it had all gone south. The sun disappeared and a damp chill swept in, sending me running for thicker socks, a warmer scarf, and the gloves that I had discarded last week. Fortunately, I'd already made a plan to visit the greenhouses (les serres) in the Jardin d'Auteuil, abutting the Bois de Boulogne in the lower 16th. Originally a huge botanic garden in the time of Louis XV, time and urban development gradually reduced the size of the gardens. But there's still plenty to see here, at least for the next year or so. The recent decision by the French Tennis Federation to keep the French Open (known here by its location, Roland Garros) in the city of Paris means that the gardens will once again be reduced in size, this time to make way for tennis courts and the foot traffic engendered by an international sporting event. (If you want to know more about the controversy, you can read all about it the New York Times story.)

So my advice to you is to get off your duff and make your way to Auteuil as soon as possible, or at the very least sometime this spring when the outdoor gardens will begin to bloom in earnest. What's more, entrance to the greenhouses is free and open 364 days a year (Christmas excepted) from 9:00 am to 4:45 pm.


And here's a hot tip: in the biggest greenhouse known as the Palmarium, there are tables and chairs just waiting for you to come have a picnic. It's strictly BYOB (and for that matter everything else too) but absolutely allowed. Doesn't that sound better than a cup of crummy Parisian coffee on a terrasse filled with smokers?

Les Serres d'Auteuil

Metro: Porte d'Auteuil

Free entry