Today my wife wanted to go pick up a chair that she ordered for our daughter. She ordered it online, and had it delivered to a local pick-up point because it was quicker than having it delivered to the house (which takes 3 weeks). The local pick-up point is a dry cleaners about 5 minutes from our house.

Cleaners

So we set out this morning to the cleaners. My wife and daughter waited in the car while I took her id with me. I climbed up the steps into an old and dirty building that usually contains lots of little stores and shops but today was Saturday and most were closed. I found the cleaners and to my surprise, the door was locked. No one in side. Nada. Rien (“Nothing”). Merde! (“Shit!”).

I bang on the door, hoping that they just went to the bathroom or something, but to no avail. Another woman arrived “Are they closed?” she asked in suspense. “I believe so” I replied. Disappointed, I walked back to the car with my head down, wondering how I was going to break the news to my wife. How was I going to tell my daughter she’d be sitting on the floor for a few more days?

I was actually less surprised that they were closed than my wife. It’s the end of June. School is almost out for the summer and people are already leaving Paris for the beaches. What I find interesting is that the people who don’t leave on vacation are physically present but mentally absent. And as in the case of our friend the dry cleaner, physically absent as well.

In France there are a lot of small “mom & pop” type stores and businesses, but the big chains are making inroads. France is, in a way, defying these huge chains unlike in the US where everyone has embraced them with open arms. However today “mom & pop” disappointed me. Yes they need a vacation, and maybe someone was sick today. Or then again maybe they were at the beach?

Sorry for not writing lately, my ideas come and go and I prefer to write when I have interesting ideas and let the bad ones just go away. I know, you’re probably thinking “So these are the good ones?” No, I’m holding out on you. There is another secret blog with the good stories and these are the ones that don’t make the cut!

Today I’m thinking I haven’t updated my site in a while and I need some topics. Fortunately one of the guys I ate lunch with gave me some material: Here is an actual conversation from lunch, which I think is pretty typical of how conversations with the French go..

Me: (unwrapping one of those refreshing towel wipes after lunch).. I love these things.
French guy: Bof (hard to translate, it means it’s not very interesting)
Me: I like the smell.
French guy: It stinks.
Me: It reminds me of the cologne in Turkey. Everyone uses this lemon smelling cologne. Like on the buses, it’s refreshing.
French guy: But you still smell crad (slang for nasty).
Me: It’s really hot in Turkey so it’s nice to get refreshed with a lemon smell. Like on the long trips on a bus, they come around and give you the cologne since you can’t wash or take a shower on the bus.
French guy: I don’t see the point, you’re just covering up your odor with another one.
Me: Yes but the lemon odor is better than the body odor!
French guy: Not really. It’s still crad.

after a few more exchanges like this I decided there was no way I was going to win this one. Sometimes it seems like the French take a position just to have an interesting discussion. They keep going on, saying ridiculous things just to keep the conversation going. It makes me feel like I’m on candid camera or something. Wait, this isn’t sometimes it’s almost all the time..

Don’t worry, if this happens to you there is a very easy solution: Just say “You’re right” and change the subject. Usually this pisses them off, because they took their stupid position just to vex you and make conversation. When you agree and change the subject it’s like you’ve just diffused a pack of explosives and now they’re unarmed. Try it!

Our daughter was going out the front door of our apartment into the stairway and my wife wanted her back here. What would you say to get her back?

“Come here~!”? That’s probably what I’d say, but in French my wife says tu viens ici! (“You’re coming here”).

To me there is a subtle difference. One I never thought about. “Come here” is an order, one that may or may not be obeyed. And judging from most children I see in the U.S., it’s not obeyed more often than not.

“You’re coming here” is not an order and therefore can’t be disobeyed. It’s a statement of what is happening, and in this case it was our daughter supposedly coming back.

But I have to confess she didn’t come back. I’m not sure if the French approach works better or not, I’m going to have to pay attention and see. But it’s interesting to think about.

Yesterday I wrote about when I arrived in France. The next day I went out to dinner with a friend. After dinner she drove me around Paris in her car. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. Lots of people out in the streets partying and lots of bands playing music. I had never seen so much excitement in the city before. I could tell I was going to love Paris.

Fete de la Musique

A few years later, I learned that that evening was no normal evening in Paris. It was, just as every June 21, La Fête de la Musique. I’m not sure how to translate that but I’ll guess “Festival of Music”. Every year on June 21 there are music concerts all over France. In Paris it’s absolutely insane. Amateur musicians play on street corners, and celebrity musicians put on free concerts. It’s quite the party, and just walking around in Paris you can sample a variety of different musical styles from hard rock to jazz. Once I got trapped on a pedestrian street that turned into a mosh pit. I’ve seen some crazy stuff, a woman singing Metallica songs, a guy playing classical piano, bands so good you’d think they should be on MTV and bands so bad you can’t believe they’re out in public with hundreds of people listening. If you’re into music, this is the party.

Fete de la Musique

From what I hear La Fête de la Musique is now international. So if you celebrated it where you live, let us know. And if you’d like more information on it, you can find it here: La Fête de la Musique

Fete de la Musique

Today marks the 7 year anniversary of my arrival in France! It was the beginning of a new life in France when on June 20, 2000 I stepped off the plane and took a taxi to a friend’s apartment in the 14e.

The taxi fare was quite expensive, around $60 if I remember correctly, and I thought we were supposed to tip the taxi drivers 15%! (The standard is either no tip, since taxi drivers own their own businesses in France and many people pay by carte bleue (credit card), or if you’re feeling nice a bit of change when paying cash). Even worse, I forgot to ask for a receipt to get reimbursed by the company that hired me.

It gets better, because my plane was very late, my friend was not home! There was a note on the door saying she went to dinner with some friends at the restaurant down the street. That posed a big problem because I had tons of baggage. I sat on the sidewalk with my baggage while I waited for her to come back. After that things continued to be stressful as I was looking for an apartment, sightseeing and starting a new job.

A week later I was kicked out wore out my welcome at my friend’s and had to find another apartment (she already had another friend staying with her and 3 was a crowd in a 1 bedroom apartment, think “Three’s Company”?). So I got a hotel room. A really nice one. I also met the woman who would later become my wife, and I found the apartment of my dreams on my favorite street in Paris.

I guess you could say it was a tough first two weeks but things definitely picked up and kept picking up for the next several years…

I thought I finished my mission last week, well the client told me it was for the most part finished. But apparently I’m going back. So I’ll get to watch the gang bangers some more.

Last Friday, I watched a van pull up. He was making some kind of delivery. While the driver was gone, one of the gang bangers rides his bike up and starts looking into the window. Then he tries to open the door but it is locked. I’m pretty sure he sees something interesting and is considering breaking into the van. He goes to the other side while I get out my camera. Then he goes back to his friends and they start talking. That’s when I got this photo:

Gang Bangers

It’s not the best photo cause I show it blindly without holding it up to my face. I wasn’t going to take any chances on them seeing me taking their photo! I feel better now, cause if anything happens to me on the way home at least I’ll have their photo on this site.

Anyway, they were definitely scoping out the van but the driver came back and got the heck out of there before they could do anything. Too bad, cause I would have loved to have captured it on camera.

It’s a bit unprofessional to be taking photos of gangsters when I’m billing 1000 euros/day but it keeps me from falling asleep.

It looks like I’ll be there the rest of the week, so we’ll see what happens. I know this is a departure from my normal writings, I’m trying new stuff to see if I can stir up some more interest. Like it or not, let me know.

I added links to the menu on the left for my favorite books about France. All are books that I’ve personally read and enjoyed. I’ll let you click on them for more information, but at the same time I’d like to do a little survey and ask you what is your favorite book about France? Just leave a comment here. I’ll compile up the results and post the list. And if you haven’t read a book on France, now is the time. Just click on a link to go to the Amazon page to read the reviews and make your choice.

The gang-bangers were at it again on the street corner just outside my window. Yesterday it was the police taking them away in handcuffs, today it was them welcoming the firemen. Apparently there was some kind of fire in their headquarters (apartment building) although we couldn’t see any smoke. Oddly enough people in the other apartments didn’t seem concerned, they were out on the balconies smoking cigarettes. It was cool to watch the firemen in action, a welcome break from my rather boring assignment.

For those who are not in the IT profession, please bear with me, I think you’ll find it worth it:

I was joined today by the consultant who previously worked on the project. I was there to migrate the project from one system to another, yet I don’t know much about it. He came to give me the expertise I lacked. We discussed the options for maintaining two versions of the application (for the old and new system).

He had a great idea: We could keep a single version and just have a configuration property to toggle between them. I had used this strategy before, so I agreed right away. The client was there with us and he was happy with it too. So I was surprised when he said to the client “We’re going to make a list of the options, write down the benefits and concerns of each, and then we can make a decision.”

I wanted to say “Since you’re only here for today, and we don’t have much time, why don’t we just go with this idea of keeping them together?” Yet I held back. He had a lot more experience on the project (6+ months compared to my 2 days). We discussed it further and then he called the former project manager (the one with the vest) and discussed it some more. After he hung up he came back with an objection to this approach and ruled it out. Basically it limited us for future modifications and also it was surely more complicated to put in place.

Now I hope I didn’t lose anyone with all that technical stuff, but the point I want to make is this: The American approach is, as many describe, “shoot from the hip”. Americans don’t waste precious time with too much analysis. We come up with a plan and we go for it. Americans spend 20% of the time analyzing and 80% doing the work.

The French on the other hand love to analyze and debate. They’re much more philosophical than Americans. They like to spend 80% of the time analyzing the problem and then get it done in the 20% remaining.

So we have two approaches which are complete opposites. The question is which one works?

Take a guess before I share my experience here. Yes, I’m talking to you. Click on the link to leave a comment, it’s really easy and you can remain anonymous like my mother (who thinks she’s anonymous but I know it’s her). Seriously, this blog isn’t going to be any fun if people don’t start participating so let’s go. Tell me which approach you think is best.

According to Wikipedia, “the word banlieue is more frequently used to describe areas of low-income apartments and social housing.” And I can confirm that’s how it’s used in France. Technically, it means the suburbs. And technically I live in the banlieue, and if someone asks me “Do you live in Paris?” I could very well respond, “Non, I live in the banlieue“. It’d be obvious from my social status that I don’t live in a low-income housing area.

But now I’m going to correct myself, because actually I do live in a low-income housing area now that I think about it. My street is not, but within a couple minutes walk there are low-income housing. The French government tries to put social housing in all cities. And unfortunately our street is one of the main pedestrian streets so we get a lot of people going to/from the social housing. Several months ago when there were some mini-riots going on in the Paris area, a car parked in front of our apartment building was burned by some kids. I guess we’ll wait to buy our new car until after we get our new house.

Yesterday I started a short 1-2 week assignment in Bagnolet, also in the banlieue. So far it has been a lot more interesting socially than professionally. Yesterday was Monday, when there is a huge marché aux puces (“flea market”). As my coworker (the one with the vest) said, it is like the markets in Morocco.

Today I watched some young men (16-24) hanging around their apartment complex, on the corner of the street. They were right across the street from my desk, which was right by the window. So I’m looking out casually watching people walk by wearing their jalabas (traditional muslin outer robe) and Muslim hats when I notice the police are now there. One of them has this odd gun, it must shoot bean bags or something. They’re rounding up the guys, searching them, patting them down, etc. After about half an hour they take them to the police cars in hand cuffs. Another guy in the room says he knows their faces and they’re always breaking into cars on the street. “You must not park on this side of the building” he says, and then adds “I’m serious!”. So cool! No more bad guys. And I go back to work.

About half an hour later I notice they’re back, all five of them. And they’re back on their corner, shaking hands with their allies and staring down their enemies. One of them caught me staring a little too long and started shouting at me, I didn’t take my eyes off the computer screen until I left. And when I left I kept looking behind me! Ok I exaggerate a little but on the way to the metro I saw the area which was the flea market the day before was now full of parked cars. And one of them had it’s passenger side window broken out. I guess they left a telephone or GPS in the car. Heck they say if you even have suction cup marks on the windshield people will break into your car hoping you have a GPS.

Well that was all in the first day and a half. Needless to say, I am willing to sacrifice my bill rate in exchange for finishing the assignment early and getting the heck out of there!

Today it was pretty humid in Paris, this is the start of the humid season that lasts until the end of August. In the humid season I wear short sleeve dress shirts, I skip the undershirt, and I for sure don’t wear any sportcoats or suit jackets. I figure we’re allowed a 3 month reprieve. So I always find it funny when in the middle of summer there are men wearing suits. Or even funnier, carrying them over their shoulder. Call me naive, but I think jackets should be used to keep you warm. Anyway, this sets the stage for today.

I was working with my coworker at the computer. He had worn his vest because we were at the client’s office. I hadn’t worn a vest, not only for the previously mentioned reasons but because I didn’t know I was going to be at the client’s office. It turns out the client is very casual so it’s not a problem. So my coworker removed his vest because he was hot.

He set up the printer on the computer and then said he’d show me where it was. So we get up and are at the doorway, ready to go into the hall when he says “Je vais prendre ma veste” (“I’m going to get my jacket”). So he goes back to our chairs and gets his jacket and puts it on, and then walks into the hallway.

Why?

It’s pretty common for the jacket-wearers. They take it off while sitting down but then put it on when they leave the room. It’s quite funny. It’s like there is a dress code or something. A natural instinct. Maybe it comes from the middle ages when people had to put on armor before going outside. Often, on the hottest days of summer, men will put on the jacket before going outside to lunch. Of course as soon as they get to the restaurant they take it off and put it on the back of the chair. But it must be worn when walking!

After a coworker complained about it being so hot once, on the way back from lunch, I asked him “Why do you wear the jacket if you’re hot?” His answer? “Because I don’t want anyone to see the sweat rings on my shirt.” I think that’s the best reason I’ve ever heard for wearing a jacket. Unfortunately it didn’t occur to him that if he weren’t wearing the jacket in the first place he wouldn’t have the sweat rings!!!!

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