MacDo

As someone who does not have wireless in my dorm, I find myself going to McDonald's frequently to take advantage of their free and unlimited wireless. I go to the crowded register, buy a medium coke zero (zeROH), and try to find a place to sit. You see, the McDonald's here are not only very nice and chic, but are also incredibly crowded. And in my normal haunt, by the Dernfert Roucherereau metro stop, there is nary another American in sight. This article describes exactly what I see every day. This may surprise some of you. In fact, crazily enough, I ran into Jenna and Scott on Satuday (they are two professors for whom I've done RA work consistently). This was Scott's first time in Paris, and when I suggested they go to McDonald's to use wifi, he remarked, "Well, that's one way to get the French in a McDonald's." I didn't want to say anything, but most of the McDonald's I pass are packed, and not all of them have wifi. This article confirms, however, what I have inferred: McDonald's are popular with the French (and other Europeans for that matter).

Rambling, Where to Begin?

What a wonderful day! I just had a very successful interview with the councilor of the 19th Arrondissement who created a movement for equality within the Socialist Party. I also got to see a more normal side of Paris. Everyone was incredibly kind and I think I got some really good stuff in this interview. My subject definitely delivered less of the party line and was candid about how things really work. ALSO...I decided to explore the Oberkampf area, which is supposedly very hot right now. I stopped by a North African patisserie mentioned here in the NY Times and had two delicious pastries. If there is one thing I hate doing while on vacation it is seeing all the tourist sites and being engulfed in a sea of tacky knick-knacks, petulant children, and a feeling of disappointment. Another problem is the expectation of some sort of feeling.* In one scene in Lost in Translation, Scarlett Johanson's character is on the phone with her mother and she is commenting on how she went to a Japanese temple but she didn't feel anything. I know exactly what she is talking about. I often visit these sites but I feel nothing. Nothing at all. On the other hand, when I go into neighborhoods that are alive and not open-air museums, I feel the energy of the city and tempo of its citizens' lives. Today was one of those days. *Not all tourist sites merit these criticisms, but I generally do feel this way.

Comme des professionels

Ah, I did it. I did my first interview with a French party member ::golf claps:: It went off without a hitch. Got you! In typical Jen-style, the interview did not come off smoothly. First, we met at different places. I was at Gare de Lyon and he was at Porte Vanves. I didn't quite understand the word though since his stop is not well-known. Here is a morcel of our conversation: Me: I'm at Gare de Lyon. Him: Oh! Zoot! I'm at Porte de qskdfjmqskdjfmklqsd (unintelligble French name, complete with a lot of nasal sounsd). Could you meet me here as soon as possible? Me: Sure. So you are at Porte d'Orleans? Him: No, Porte d'adfjsldkjfl. Me: I'm sorry, I didn't understand you. Him: It's not Porte d'Orleans, although it is near it. It's Porte de rehaoero. Me: Porte de Rhone? Him: No, it is on line 13. Me: Okay... (looking desperately at my metro map...nothing that looks at all like azlkejr) Him: Porte de qlskfj... v-a-n-v-e-s. Me, silently panicking: Got it! Unfortunately, the two are impossibly far apart in terms of metro lines. I devised what appeared to be the most direct route to get there (and here "direct" translates to "circuitous"). Seriously, I've been riding the Paris metro in preparation for this. To my utter dimay, my connecting station was closed! Oh, the horror. I dashed outside and hailed a cab. For what it's worth, the interview itself went very well. I was just horrified by my tardiness and my inability to understand French prononciation. I must have looked like such a light weight! In other news, I went chez Odette this weekend in Amboise. As always, it was wonderful! Odette now has a flat-screen tv, wireles, and is my friend on Skype. I swear, she must be the most technologically advanced 70-something in the world! And with that, I have to get back to work. À bientôt!

Halting

So I took a big step and I called the Socialist Party member in charge of "equality of chances." My French is horrible and it was embarassing. If it was in English, it would go a little like this: "Hello, here Jennifer Miller who is student doctoral." Pretty bad, eh? Non! It was not as bad as my call to SOS Racisme, when I had the guy at reception spelling out an email 5 times (and I still don't think I have it written down correctly). I deserve it for being so smug.