On a side note from the normal ‘french life’ rants… I have been bugging the French boy for awhile about showcasing some of his photos from India. While I appreciate his modesty, I think they are quite interesting photos (especially for people like me who haven’t had the luxury of visiting India thus far) and a snippet of life in India. I remember when I met him that he said it had changed his life forever, his perspective on life. His photos tell a little piece of that story. So he has put together a small collection of some of his photographs which are his own interpretation and a preview of the spirit of India and its people.

Here is the link and I hope you’ll enjoy it

When I think of perfume, french perfume comes to mind. And I am now starting to understand why the French have a long tradition in the art of making perfumes (or at least I have my own hypothesis). According to Wikipedia, “Perfume is a mixture of fragrant essential oils and aroma compounds, fixatives, and solvents used to give the human body, animals, objects, and living spaces a pleasant scent.” And after living in France the last 5 months, I now understand the importance of having a pleasant scent. And here is why. When you meet another person in France (even often complete strangers who are friends of friends), hello and goodbye means giving a kiss (well, more like an air kiss) on both cheeks where you are in verrrry close proximity to the other person’s face & mouth. For non-frenchies, this can take a bit of getting used to (since we are used to having a personal space bubble that is now being popped!). Now, I am okay with it.

So, you say, what is my point? Well, when you are greeting everyone in such close proximity every day (unlike in alot of other cultures where a handshake at arms length is quite sufficient), I think the french bisous must’ve had something to do with the creation (and longstanding tradition) of perfume here in France. That way, when you go in for a hello or goodbye smooch, you get a whiff of whatever scent they are sporting (or maybe they are going nakie in which case it’s often their breath you smell). And you can also tell a lot about a person by their scent. While meeting for a meal with 25 of the French boy’s family and friends over the weekend, I smelt a whole range of people’s scents and perfumes. I found myself thinking “mmmmm, nice aftershave” or “Oooh she smells fruity… strawberry or raspberry?” or “hellooooo halitosis”. In whichever case, it is an interesting and uniquely french experience.

Luckily for me, the French boy bought me a scrumptious Flower by Kenzo bottle for noel. Ain’t he sweet! Long live the parfum, I say! (especially while I’m in France)

It is that time of the year for new year’s resolutions. Well here is one of mine which I intend to keep… Before the end of this year, I would like to try one of everything in my local boulangerie (french bakery).

Because a) I am only here for the next 8 months so I have to make the most of the french cuisine while I can…

b) We are planning on travelling Asia for a few months after here so any weight gained will be lost on the way home (Ill need those extra pounds) and…

c) I love love love my local boulangerie, and love supporting them to stay open too (much better bread than any of the department or chain stores, think Casino!).

So far, I have sampled about half of the pastries and I am a sucker for the double/triple chocolate ones (and avoiding the almond ones since I am not such a huge fan of nuts).

Upon going to the boulangerie for our daily baguette yesterday with the french boy’o (and realising we had both left our wallets at home), the lady there had no qualms on saying “no big deal, come tomorrow”. Shows how often we frequent there and makes us feel like regulars in our quartier.

And you know the best thing about France? The words ‘glutton’ and ‘greedy’ have negative connotations in English, but the French have their very own special word which has evolved away from the meaning of the word gluttony, towards the appreciation of good food when you take great pleasure in your food (rather than the previous words which make you feel like a piglet or like Homer Simpson). So I am officially a self-confessed gourmand here in France and not ashamed of it. Bring on the daily baguette, the chocolatines and the macarons. Mmmmm.

yummy.

I am now half way through my year as a nanny looking after three french kiddie winks.

It’s a bizarre concept really. Usually the french home is very private. You wouldn’t just ‘pop around’ for a drink or turn up unexpected like we often do back home. The bizarre part is that you are, in fact, a complete stranger (only contact via skype or email) and you turn up and live with the family and see all of their dirty laundry! (literally). You are immediately in their circle, at the 5 year old’s birthday party, changing nappies and all that jazz. It’s a crazy concept but somehow it works. And for us, it has gone pretty well.

I believe the difference between a good au pair experience and a bad one really all comes down to the family. I know another au pair who has considered quitting because the boys that he was looking after were threatening to jump out of the window and said they would call the police if the au pair ever touched him (apparently there were ‘mummy-and-daddy-never-being-there’ issues there and the family were on their 8th nanny/au pair in 10 years). I also know another au pair that came into a family and found that the host mum became increasingly jealous of this young, bubbly girl that had come to live with her family and got on particularly well with her hubby (all harmless of course) and that didn’t bode well either. So like I say, the family makes all the difference.

being an au pair.

If asked what the hardest part for me is, it would be knowing the boundaries with the children without knowing the rules (okay, that makes no sense…). I shall explain. The kids will be at home with me and I will be telling them off for crawling on top of the couch or for screaming loudly. Then when the parents are home, I see them interacting with the children and they are quite free to crawl along the couch and are screaming their little hearts out. I find this part the hardest - knowing their rules.

A few of my favourite moments (which make it all worth it) would include splashing our faces with glitter and lipstick and making our very own rock band (i was the singer), the moment the little 3 year old came home from pre-school with bite marks on her bottom, actual bite marks (i would love to know the story of how the other kid actually bit her bum), the little boy’s impression of a dinosaur (he roars so hard that his head shakes), our head banging contest (and making videos of us doing it) and taking the kids to school when it had SNOWED (not so common here in the south of france… pure delight for the kids). Awkwardest moment was when the 9 year old asked me what “sexy bitch” means in english because she had heard it on a song on the radio (no swear words are censored here… so the kids go around singing gros mots!). One of the children is currently in the ‘poos and wees’ stage where everything to do with caca and pipi deserves a barrel of laughs apparently. The little one won’t let me leave pre-school until I’ve given her a big cuddle and bisous (kiss).  Children often don’t know how to be grateful or appreciate your help but if they know that you are there when they need you, that is what is important. And when they are happy to see you in the morning, that is always a good sign.

If you are thinking about becoming a nanny or au pair (or accepting one into your home), I think it’s a great opportunity for the children to establish a relationship with someone while mummy and daddy have work or study commitments.  I am teaching my children English and that is something they will have for the rest of their life. And of course, an open mind and a great sense of humour are pretty much compulsory.

This month has been the month of Epiphanie, where it is perfectly acceptable to eat sugary sweet cakes - Galette des Rois (Kings’ cake) - all month long. These cakes can be found in any boulangerie (french bakery) throughout France.

So what is… La Tradition?

1. With friends and family at the kitchen table, you nominate one person (often one of the kiddie winks) to crawl under the table and be the le main innocent.

2. Someone else needs to be the distributeur des parts (maybe one of the adults).

3. In french they say ‘tirer les rois‘ which means the distributeur cuts the galette into pieces and serves each piece to the person whose name has been called out by the child under the table (this ensures no cheating apparently!)

4. Lovingly mange (devour) the galette until someone announces that they have found la fève (a tiny porcelain figurine or trinket, sometimes a king or something else religious, or sometimes animals etc depending on the theme of the boulangerie).

5. Now is the time to crown the person who found the feve as the king or queen for the day, with a gold paper crown (included with the cake).

I am amazed at whether this tradition sends thousands of frenchies to the dentist with chipped teeth or prove to be a health hazard for littlies swallowing the little feve. Apparently not. It’s funny.

Two versions exist: the brioche (sweet cake) with fruit confits or the the flaky puff pastry one filled with frangipane below. I have tried them both and personally, I prefer the brioche but I also have an adversity to almonds so that might explain it. They are both extremely delicious. Luckily I was not subjected to wearing the silly paper crown

Decisions, decisions.

This week we have had the dreaded news that in September, I must leave La France before my working holiday visa expires. Without us being married, or having a kid, it means nothing to be a partner of a frenchman here. I understand the reasons behind it being so strict but it just sucks for us. The prefecture was full with people wanting to live in France and I soon realised that it is like that every day, in every city in France. I am not unique. Except for me, it’s because my partner is French and we were hoping to stay here for another few years. Unfortunately, that’s not going to happen.

thoughts...?

So… plan B? I have been thinking for a loooooong time about my future ‘career’. I have studied psychology previously for 3 years (bachelor degree) but have not used it since and wouldn’t be able to without further studies (and have not been sure that it’s the route I want to take). But I am now thinking more and more about going back to study to be a nurse. Yes, an infirmiere. I’ve been googling and researching my little heart out, trying to find out the ‘ins and outs’ of nursing school and thereafter, being a nurse.

My mum was a nurse in a rest home and I remember going there when I was little and talking to the old people and liking this environment (one of helping people feel comfortable). When a person close to me was sick, we spent A LOT of time in hospitals for her treatment and I will never forget the lovely nurses who really cared and helped her. The ones that you can feel are in the job because they care.

The thing is… and something which I have been craving (and missing) in my career is that… I want to help people (and always have been like that), even if that means I have to deal with poo, vomit and blood on a daily basis (at least I’m still helping someone). I have been doing office jobs for the past 5 years (during my temping, I worked in at least 6 different offices) where I haven’t felt content or like I’m making any positive difference to this world. And I don’t want to do this for the rest of my life. So it means going back to study for another 3 years to nursing school, with a lot of hard work and dedication. Am I ready?

After telling a close friend last night about this plan (this particular friend being very honest… blunt at times!), he called it how he saw it. He said that because I am such a free spirit, he was a bit worried about if I would be okay to settle down for the next 3-5 years. Well, I guess I will have to sometime (I can’t be fluttering between countries forever…) and I won’t know until I try.

Unfortunately, I have found there are a multitude of burnt out nurses online who are intent on telling their stories to the world in such a negative fashion. This can be a little offputting but at the same time, I have to remember that there are people in EVERY profession who complain about lack of pay, lack of appreciation, bla bla bla. So while I understand these individual’s struggles, I don’t think it is reflective of the entire profession. And life is what you make it. And of course, there are many opportunities in nursing to branch out into if one particular field is not the right one for me.

So anyone out there, any advice for a potential nurse?

Merci beaucoup.

Upon first impressions on living here in France, I couldn’t help noticing the clothing of the women as I think it says a lot about a culture. I started to notice a trend of black, brown and grey colours, often paired with a pair of black leggings or tights. The style here seems more conservative and much more traditional to what I am used to back in New Zealand. I prided myself on my tacky bright pink dangly heart earrings and bright paisley headscarfs back home (or in the UK), but here I feel like it attracts a little too much attention and screams out “I’m a foreigner!”. So for now, I have put away some of my bright stuff and have started wearing my less funky vetements. I feel like my bright clothing are a big part of my identity and I don’t want to lose that but at the same time, I also yearn to just blend in here, rather than sticking out on the metro every morning for my choice of clothing.

french girl: laid back but still stylee

Maybe they also don’t follow trends as much here. I remember living in the UK when bright neon ra-ra skirts were in fashion and the high waisted skirts (never really understood that one!). Oh and let’s not forget the big white baggy tshirts with huge bright lettering on them saying “I STOLE YOUR BOYFRIEND” (among other tacky things). But maybe the frenchies like to stick with the more traditionelle. Often they look sleek in black, with their hair styled (but not too styled… ). And they seem very comfortable and in tune with their bodies. Even the little girl I look after is constantly told by her maman (mummy) to improve her posture or that the clothes she has chosen for herself for school look moche (ugly) together. This awareness of how one looks may have something to do with the fact that frenchies know how to project themselves with confidence and grace. I find it fascinating.

Also, unintentionally, I have now been given a french style haircut (short side fringe and bob… aka a blonde version of Amelie) by the hairdresser to which I asked for a trim and ended up with half of my long blonde locks gone (which I’ve had for over 10 years). Ah well… c’est la vie!

I’m going to attempt a bit of creativity and wish you a happy new years in… eskimo!…

Kiortame pivdluaritlo everybody!

Or maybe I should be saying Bonne Année since I am now living amongst the froggies (and have been for 4 months now). As you may have guessed, me & the French boy have made home in the South of France where I have had a real eye opener of a time, experiencing and questioning his culture from the outside. And also, a good one for helping me understand where some of his cultural identity and thoughts come from. In fact, I find the French culture to be rich and intriguing at the same time as being a little frustrating at times. And I have plenty of funny stories to spill about some of my experiences living in France. But I’m not an expat in Paris, I am here living in the south where you barely ever hear an english speaker and it’s too far from Paris for the tourists! So I am really immersed here and hope to share a slice of life here with you.

So just wondering, is there anyone still out there? I would be surprised if there is, since I have dropped off the face of the planet (well, the blog planet that is) for the last 5 months! But I’m back, brimming with new years resolutions and wondering what adventures 2010 will bring.

Happy New Years and I wish you all the happiness in the world for 2010.

xx

Japan has a dirty little secret. Well, the sleepy coastal town of Taiji does, to be exact. There is a secret cove where over 23,000 dolphins (!) are being killed each year - the world’s largest dolphin slaughter. Banging on metal pipes submerged into the water, the fisherman’s boats (all in a line) terrorise the dolphins with a “wall of sound” which frightens them into the shore where they wait in nets over night before every one of them meets their sad inevitable fate.  While hearing footage taken underwater by the documentary team via ultrasound of the sounds made by the dolphins stuck in this cove, I swear it sounded like they were screaming. It is chilling.

This has now been uncovered in the film/documentary The Cove, an incredible suspense filled piece of work. One of the most powerful images for me from the film is when a single dolphin escapes and starts jumping the nets towards the shore, with a trail of blood leading behind. And then, he falls and never comes back up again. The killing cove turns a bright red with blood during the slaughter and that image is something I will never, ever forget.

To add to the scandal, dolphin trainers from all over the globe come to Taiji and pick out which dolphins they would like to take back to captivity at their dolphinariums to amuse us in dolphin parks and shows. These individuals can see exactly what is going on and apparently sometimes lend a helping hand. And these are supposed to be people who care and cherish these intelligent, communicative, intensely wonderful creatures. Okay, so I can see the merit in dolphins within educational environments as it educates and makes people love them which in turn, makes them want to support them. But the dolphins are dying to amuse us. Those dolphins who aren’t lucky enough (can we say lucky?) to be picked, will be gone forever within a few hours.

So how secretive is this? Very. Even the common folk in Japan don’t know this is going on. They also don’t know that the slayed dolphin meat is being pawned off in supermarkets and labelled as ‘whale meat’ when in fact, this dolphin meat (apart from the horrific practice in which they are captured and killed) contains extremely high mercury content. Anyone thinking the new Minimata?

One thing that made me angry was the excuse from the Japanese for what they are doing. The oceans are collapsing and they are blaming the whales and dolphins. The Japanese fisherman justified their act of killing these dolphins as “pest control” because the dolphins are eating all the fish. Are you freakin serious? Don’t you think maybe it has something more to do with human overconsumption and greed… we are constantly given warnings that fish are running out because us humans are so dependent on this constant influx of fish to feed our protein needs. I am sure the food chain and the cycle of life under the sea was doing just fine before humans started to take, take, take.

Honestly, how do these people sleep at night while they commit such cruel acts daily?

I feel really passionate about this and I felt upset after seeing this movie and will never forget the impact it had on me, which resonated for hours afterwards. I then spent the next few hours sending letters to my own government, the US government and the Japanese government. I give all credit to Richard O’Barry and his brave team who unrelentlessly put their lives at risk to have this story uncovered… by crossing barbed wired fences and keep out signs, diving under the water to document what happens there, and not being intimidated by the Japanese forces who aggressively wanted to keep them away from their secret.

Now the secret is out.

The answer is not to boycott Japan as a country. In fact, over 70 percent of Japan are opposed to whaling. They need to know what is going on in their country so that they can do something about it. We need to target the group of fisherman in Taiji specifically. Getting the word out will help shame the Japanese authorities into curtailing the slaughter, which will start again in September unless we help stop it! Once again, it is within our power to say, “Never again!”. Spread the word and let’s get this movie shown in Japan!!!

See this movie. Spread the word. Sign a petition. Write to the govt. Donate.
See this brave and provocative documentary and I promise you will want to do something about it.

~watch the trailer here, get the facts here, sign the petition here.~
please. help. before it’s too late.

what i am grateful for today…

a photo by moi.

• my family & my friends (and them being safe & healthy)
• music… sweet music
• the taste of feijoas
• the scent of my favourite perfume (kenzo)
• being intrigued by foreign films
• the feeling of sunshine (never underestimate the power of warmth)
• singing loudly on my own (highly enjoyable)
• a good sauvignon blanc (oyster bay being one of them)
• my dogs (unconditional love)
• finding the last bit of leftovers in the fridge, and eating it for breakfast. (bonus)
• my thirst for knowledge, life long learning
• positive people in my life
• the boy i share so much with
• the contrast of bright purple against lime green in our bathroom
• the laughter of a child (can break any bad mood)
• getting enough sleep (a rarity for me)

My list could be endless but here’s how I am feeling today. We can all be terrible creatures when it comes to taking things in our lives for granted. The thing that I find bizarre is that we often hear of inspiring people who are faced with life-threatening illnesses who suddenly begin living life to the full. Why does it sometimes take our life to be shortened for us to finally carry out all of our life’s wishes and desires - whether it be skydiving, travelling the globe, or riding in a helicopter. Shouldn’t we all be living life like this anyway? How can we be so sure that we are going to live longer than the next person?

They say life is precious. But how often do we remind ourselves?

I mean, really.

What have you always wanted to do?

I have a few things on my list.