All last year in Paris, we never once had to seek out any sort French medical professional. The nearest we got to one was a regular yearly check-up by the school nurse. And the only result of that was an admonishment to properly submit the children's complete medical dossiers to the school. An admonishment which we cheerfully ignored, because there are hardly any medical records for Silke and Jerome, much less a dossier.
This year however, within a mere three days we found ourselves in somewhat urgent need of a doctor. On waking this morning, Jerome had painful looking sores on his face. Just around the corner from our new place in Saint-Ouen is a pharmacy, a small shop with just one woman running it. I should mention that inside the pharmacy is a framed newspaper article about this remarkable woman, who is not merely a pharmacist, but a neighbourhood institution. She knows everyone, and is very gregarious and friendly. Over the course of the day, we got to know her, and she us. She took one look at Jerome and said he would need antibiotics, and we would need them today, because this type of infection spreads quickly. Now I remembered that Cecile, our landlord (wife of Seamus) had mentioned that she had a very good doctor who we should go to if we had any issues. So we went home, and I found that Cecile had left the doctor's number on the very helpful information sheet that she had prepared. I called the doctor. He did answer, but from his mobile phone, perhaps from somewhere in Spain - on vacation. He could only pose a few questions, and then advise me to return to the pharmacy, there to ask a recommendation for a nearby doctor, not on vacation. I now recalled to mind a conversation last year, in which some acquaintance recommended that the best policy is not to get sick in August in France. If you must get sick, do it on the beach towns or in the resorts, where doctors can be found. Fortunately, the pharmacist did know a doctor not on vacation and only a short walk away, who would be in her office after 2pm that day.
If you have ever read any description of an American's experience of visiting a doctor's office in France - well, it was exactly like that. You call, and are told to come at a certain time - in two hours as it happened. The office, when you arrive, is a small number of rooms in an apartment building. There is a waiting room, but no reception. The doctor herself comes to say when it is your turn. There is no receptionist, no nurse, no staff at all besides the doctor herself. If the phone rings during your consultation, she will answer it herself, brusquely posing two or three questions and giving a time to someone wanting an appointment. Nothing about her dress suggests, to the North American, a health care professional. There is not the least thing doctorly about it. It is not baggy or institutional or utilitarian. She wears in fact a black dress, fairly elegant, that could equally well be worn by a lawyer or a banker or a bookseller. She is efficient and direct, and examines Jerome perhaps a minute before inquiring whether he has experienced anything stressful recently. I remark that we have just recently arrived on a trans-Altantic flight, are still coping with the six hour time change, and that Jerome will be starting shortly at a new school. -Ah, voila! You see, stress is frequently the trigger for this type of infection. She writes out a prescription. French doctors err on the side of over-prescribing rather than under-prescribing, so Jerome gets two different antibiotics, and a face wash. We pay the doctor directly - just write her a check, although she also takes cash. The total fee is 23 Euros, and then we are out the door - probably in less than 10 minutes, while she is already ushering in the next patient from the waiting room. And we go back to the pharmacy, where the helpful woman fills the prescription on the spot. -You see, I told you, she says.
jeudi 28 août 2014
Back in Paris. And it is cold and rainy.
Silke and Jerome and I are back in Paris! It had begun to seem like some distant and implausible dream, but now it seems just very normal. Normal and exciting at the same time.
We asked Seamus, the landlord, about the nearest boulanger. His reply was that it was August in Paris, and nothing was open. And furthermore, that if we did find someplace open for business, the people would be grumpy, because the summer in Paris has been miserable. As a matter of fact, it was raining. And we could not find umbrellas. Usually, you can buy umbrellas on every corner in Paris. Street vendors wave them in your face. But on a rainy day in August? Nowhere to be found. Newspaper stands for example usually have umbrellas. But the newspaper stands are mostly closed up for the month. We visited the old apartment to pick up our mail. The corner store there always used to have umbrellas. And they were open! But umbrellas? Sold out. We decided, since we had got off the plane that morning, that we were too weary to attempt more real errands, and instead that we would visit one of our favourite parks for a walk - in the rain. That park was Buttes Chaumont. But when we got off the metro first we went looking for an open grocery store or any other kind of shop that might have umbrellas. No luck. Then we were struck with the crazy idea to have ice cream. The sugar boost might help keep us awake. One grocery store that was open hadn't bothered to unlock the ice cream freezer for the day; apparently they weren't expecting any ice cream sales. But, finally, we did at least manage to buy some ice cream bars and a bottle of water, and we proceeded to the park, where we found a bench sheltered from the rain by overhanging trees. There we consumed our ice cream bars. It was great.
We asked Seamus, the landlord, about the nearest boulanger. His reply was that it was August in Paris, and nothing was open. And furthermore, that if we did find someplace open for business, the people would be grumpy, because the summer in Paris has been miserable. As a matter of fact, it was raining. And we could not find umbrellas. Usually, you can buy umbrellas on every corner in Paris. Street vendors wave them in your face. But on a rainy day in August? Nowhere to be found. Newspaper stands for example usually have umbrellas. But the newspaper stands are mostly closed up for the month. We visited the old apartment to pick up our mail. The corner store there always used to have umbrellas. And they were open! But umbrellas? Sold out. We decided, since we had got off the plane that morning, that we were too weary to attempt more real errands, and instead that we would visit one of our favourite parks for a walk - in the rain. That park was Buttes Chaumont. But when we got off the metro first we went looking for an open grocery store or any other kind of shop that might have umbrellas. No luck. Then we were struck with the crazy idea to have ice cream. The sugar boost might help keep us awake. One grocery store that was open hadn't bothered to unlock the ice cream freezer for the day; apparently they weren't expecting any ice cream sales. But, finally, we did at least manage to buy some ice cream bars and a bottle of water, and we proceeded to the park, where we found a bench sheltered from the rain by overhanging trees. There we consumed our ice cream bars. It was great.
 |
| Ice cream bars in the rain on a bench in parc des buttes chaumont. |
dimanche 6 juillet 2014
So long to France
No this isn't a post about leaving France. It's a post about France by eliminated in the quarter finals of the World Cup. Have a look at the photo, taken during the game. See what's odd? No traffic! The only car is a taxi, and it's stopped so the taxi driver can watch on the big screen set up on the sidewalk. We had been informed that during important World Cup games when France was playing, there would be hardly any traffic, but it was funny to see.
vendredi 27 juin 2014
Lycée Racine
Today Silke wrote her final Brevet exam, so she is done collège! The exam was histoire, geographie et education civique. Part of the exam was factual: identifying people, both historically and currently prominent in French society, identifying dates, and locating places on maps. Then there were two essays. For the first, she had, without the use of reference material, to write a discussion of the decolonisation of Algeria (the topic was not known in advance), and for the second, they were given a photograph of soldiers standing in front of Versailles in 1919, so some months after the Great War, and they had to compose an essay on how the photograph reflected the violence of the Great War.
Immediately following the exam, they were handed their official letters stating which lycée they will be attending. This is somewhat curious, because obviously, the exams, not having been marked yet, can have no bearing. (Although you must pass, which is not as low as threshold as you might imagine.) So although nominally the final exams count for 40% of the overall mark, in fact, for what really counts - which lycée you get into - they have no bearing whatsoever. The whole entrance to lycée process is quite involved. Essentially, each family makes a ranked list of there top eight choices of lycée, and then each student gets priority according to their academic results. The discussion with the school authorities starts early in the year with a formal back and forth of letters with the object of ensuring that each family makes realistic choices: there is a huge difference in lycées in quality and reputation. Obviously, everyone would like their child to get into a famous lycée, but being rejected from all of your 8 choices is a catastrophe, as then you are relegated to a second round of leftover spots. Therefore, you are guided carefully to make maybe one or two slightly ambitious choices, filling out the bulk of the list with lycées that you have reasonable confidence of obtaining entrance, and ending the list with a couple that you could be quite sure of being accepted to, but which nonetheless would be more or less acceptable if everything else fails. Receiving your official letter giving your lycée assignment is the most important moment of your collège career; it is more stressful and of more significance than the exam which immediately precedes it.
You might wonder then, what is the point of doing well on the final exams? For one thing, everyone will know exactly how well you did. Results will be posted publicly, outside the schools, by name, with exact marks, and ranked even. So you, and your friends, and everyone else who cares to know, can find out that you got for example the 17th highest result in the collège, or 117th as the case may be. This is very un-Canadian, but we have become accustomed to it. Marks throughout the year are usually posted - in fact, they are often read out in class.
Silke’s lycée assignment, which in her particular case has as much to do with being admitted to an intensive music study program as it does with academic results, is Lycée Racine. Her letter stating her assignment also specified that she was to present herself at Lycée Racine the very same afternoon before 17:00. So, as we were there, here are some photos.
And so, at the end of the day, with everything done for the year, Silke and Jerome, wanted a funny film. And chocolate ice cream from Erik Kaiser of course! We found the perfect film: "Les Profs". A dumb teen movie really, but just perfect for today. It's about a lycée where the goal is to get 50% of the students to pass the "Bac" (= Baccalaureate, but no one ever says or writes that, even officially) . Although Silke just finished her Brevet exams (at the end of collège), rather than the Bac exams (at the end of Lycée), still there was much, really very much, to recognise in this film. So many details of French school that we now understand. Silke (and Jerome) laughed all the way through it. Here is the trailer. You don't have to understand French to get the idea; it's not subtle.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OhrnCsFovlo
 |
| Some of Silke's collège friends having lunch in le jardin de Luxembourg after their last exam |
Immediately following the exam, they were handed their official letters stating which lycée they will be attending. This is somewhat curious, because obviously, the exams, not having been marked yet, can have no bearing. (Although you must pass, which is not as low as threshold as you might imagine.) So although nominally the final exams count for 40% of the overall mark, in fact, for what really counts - which lycée you get into - they have no bearing whatsoever. The whole entrance to lycée process is quite involved. Essentially, each family makes a ranked list of there top eight choices of lycée, and then each student gets priority according to their academic results. The discussion with the school authorities starts early in the year with a formal back and forth of letters with the object of ensuring that each family makes realistic choices: there is a huge difference in lycées in quality and reputation. Obviously, everyone would like their child to get into a famous lycée, but being rejected from all of your 8 choices is a catastrophe, as then you are relegated to a second round of leftover spots. Therefore, you are guided carefully to make maybe one or two slightly ambitious choices, filling out the bulk of the list with lycées that you have reasonable confidence of obtaining entrance, and ending the list with a couple that you could be quite sure of being accepted to, but which nonetheless would be more or less acceptable if everything else fails. Receiving your official letter giving your lycée assignment is the most important moment of your collège career; it is more stressful and of more significance than the exam which immediately precedes it.
You might wonder then, what is the point of doing well on the final exams? For one thing, everyone will know exactly how well you did. Results will be posted publicly, outside the schools, by name, with exact marks, and ranked even. So you, and your friends, and everyone else who cares to know, can find out that you got for example the 17th highest result in the collège, or 117th as the case may be. This is very un-Canadian, but we have become accustomed to it. Marks throughout the year are usually posted - in fact, they are often read out in class.
Silke’s lycée assignment, which in her particular case has as much to do with being admitted to an intensive music study program as it does with academic results, is Lycée Racine. Her letter stating her assignment also specified that she was to present herself at Lycée Racine the very same afternoon before 17:00. So, as we were there, here are some photos.
 |
| Is that the lamppost from The Lion, The Witch and the Wardrobe? What is a lamppost doing inside? |
 |
| We didn't see the staircases move, but I swear they look like they would, Harry Potter style. |
 |
| A courtyard at Lycée Racine |
And so, at the end of the day, with everything done for the year, Silke and Jerome, wanted a funny film. And chocolate ice cream from Erik Kaiser of course! We found the perfect film: "Les Profs". A dumb teen movie really, but just perfect for today. It's about a lycée where the goal is to get 50% of the students to pass the "Bac" (= Baccalaureate, but no one ever says or writes that, even officially) . Although Silke just finished her Brevet exams (at the end of collège), rather than the Bac exams (at the end of Lycée), still there was much, really very much, to recognise in this film. So many details of French school that we now understand. Silke (and Jerome) laughed all the way through it. Here is the trailer. You don't have to understand French to get the idea; it's not subtle.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OhrnCsFovlo
Collège Alphonse de Lamartine
I just received today the official letter from the rectorat confirming Jerome's registration next year at collège Lamartine. Actually I say "official" but I didn't know myself until I opened the letter which college Jerome would would be attending: there were two realistic possibilities for partner colleges for the CRR. Besides being nice to know which college, it's great to have the official approval and confirmation of the rectorat, because being admitted into the CRR is conditional on the rectorat giving their approval. Apparently they do occasionally reject students who are weak academically. That must be absolutely brutal for those who pass the CRR audition, but then get rejected on academic grounds by the rectorat. Not that there was any worry in Jerome's case. Also, it means that I managed to successfully navigate the bureaucratic process - it wasn't without a snag or two along the way, but now I have the letter with the official stamp of the rectorat, so everything is golden.
Here is the website for college Lamartine. First a link to their photos page:
http://www.ac-paris.fr/serail/jcms/s2_272352/galerie-photos?cid=s2_272312&portal=p2_73173
For those who want to read the French, here is the brief presentation
of the college:
http://www.ac-paris.fr/serail/jcms/s1_700141/presentation-du-college-lamartine?cid=s1_700142
Here is the same thing run through google translate, which gives the
usual bizarre and in places inaccurate translation, but you get the
idea:
https://translate.google.com/translate?hl=fr&sl=fr&tl=en&u=http%3A%2F%2Fwww.ac-paris.fr%2Fserail%2Fjcms%2Fs1_700141%2Fpresentation-du-college-lamartine%3Fcid%3Ds1_700142
And as an interesting note, Jerome will be starting latin in September.
Here is the website for college Lamartine. First a link to their photos page:
http://www.ac-paris.fr/serail/jcms/s2_272352/galerie-photos?cid=s2_272312&portal=p2_73173
For those who want to read the French, here is the brief presentation
of the college:
http://www.ac-paris.fr/serail/jcms/s1_700141/presentation-du-college-lamartine?cid=s1_700142
Here is the same thing run through google translate, which gives the
usual bizarre and in places inaccurate translation, but you get the
idea:
https://translate.google.com/translate?hl=fr&sl=fr&tl=en&u=http%3A%2F%2Fwww.ac-paris.fr%2Fserail%2Fjcms%2Fs1_700141%2Fpresentation-du-college-lamartine%3Fcid%3Ds1_700142
And as an interesting note, Jerome will be starting latin in September.
jeudi 12 juin 2014
Brahms Trio no.1 in B major
It has been a long time since I've posted anything to youtube. So here is a video of Silke's trio in an informal setting, with Arthur Prieur playing cello and Eli Casbi at the piano.
mercredi 4 juin 2014
L'Académie de Musique de Paris is crowd funding for 2014/2015
Note: I have modified this post, because the previous one was little too gloating about not having to do fundraising this year. Which is hardly fair to those parents in the CYO, specifically mentioned, who have put in a huge effort to make the Germany tour possible for all families. So thanks to all those families putting in time and energy and creativity for successful fundraising.
All this year, I've observed from afar, with some relief and a little guilt as I sit comfortably far away and unable to help, as Calgary Youth Orchestra parents throw themselves enthusiastically into fundraising efforts for the Germany tour. By contrast, Silke's orchestra in Paris, is (or rather "was", but that is getting ahead of myself) entirely funded through concert ticket sales. In previous years, they had sold some years close to 10,000 concert tickets in a season, at an average price that I estimate to be around 25-30 €. It may be just bad luck - a fluke year, or it may be cosmic justice at my inward glee at not having to do fundraising this year, but for whatever reason, this year they are far short of the number of tickets sold required to break even. To the point that the survival of this wonderful gem of a cultural institution is imperilled. Actually, the most likely, and most depressing explanation, is that even Paris, a veritable oasis of cultural richness and of large and enthusiastic (and paying) audiences for every manner of spectacle - that even Paris is not immune from the general worldwide downward trend in interest in all forms of culture and live performance, and in classical music in particular.
And so, for the first time, l'Académie de musique de Paris is engaging in that most American, and very un-French, activity: fundraising. (I except of course from being called un-French that form of fundraising practiced by the beggars in the metros: it is impossible to be five minutes in the metro without encountering an well-expressed and well-rehearsed appeal to that variety of fundraising.) So, with much enthusiasm for the latest in tech-sector trends, the Academy has launched their first-ever crowd funding appeal! I'm personally not convinced this is the best approach for an musical institution, since if they don't meet their ambitious goal, they get nothing. But what do I know? So, with appropriate encouragements to everyone to open their wallets, here is the website - the English version even :
http://www.kisskissbankbank.com/en/projects/academie-de-musique-de-paris
There is a promotional video there, and if nothing else (by "else" I mean money, which you probably don't have because of your already generous donations to cancer research and the food bank and the animal shelter and the church and Girl Guides and children's soccer team and your neighbour's 400km bike-for-a-noble-cause have already exceed your budget for benevolence), you can watch it and play "how many times can you spot Silke". The answer is a lot, although it is easy to over-count, because it seems in recent previous years, there was also a blond with long hair in the assistent concert-master's seat. Hint: If the assistent concert-master is wearing a low-cut dress slit up the leg, it's not Silke.
So why not click on the site and make a pledge? After all, your credit card will only be charged if they meet their goal. An unlikely event. Made slightly less unlikely insofar as I convince people of its unlikelihood. Edit: Turns out your credit card will be charged, but you will get a refund if they don't make their goal.
Update: Last night's concert, the last of the season, was nearly sold out, and that in Cirque d'Hiver, which seats 1500. So that will help towards balancing the books. It was a phenomenal concert.
All this year, I've observed from afar, with some relief and a little guilt as I sit comfortably far away and unable to help, as Calgary Youth Orchestra parents throw themselves enthusiastically into fundraising efforts for the Germany tour. By contrast, Silke's orchestra in Paris, is (or rather "was", but that is getting ahead of myself) entirely funded through concert ticket sales. In previous years, they had sold some years close to 10,000 concert tickets in a season, at an average price that I estimate to be around 25-30 €. It may be just bad luck - a fluke year, or it may be cosmic justice at my inward glee at not having to do fundraising this year, but for whatever reason, this year they are far short of the number of tickets sold required to break even. To the point that the survival of this wonderful gem of a cultural institution is imperilled. Actually, the most likely, and most depressing explanation, is that even Paris, a veritable oasis of cultural richness and of large and enthusiastic (and paying) audiences for every manner of spectacle - that even Paris is not immune from the general worldwide downward trend in interest in all forms of culture and live performance, and in classical music in particular.
And so, for the first time, l'Académie de musique de Paris is engaging in that most American, and very un-French, activity: fundraising. (I except of course from being called un-French that form of fundraising practiced by the beggars in the metros: it is impossible to be five minutes in the metro without encountering an well-expressed and well-rehearsed appeal to that variety of fundraising.) So, with much enthusiasm for the latest in tech-sector trends, the Academy has launched their first-ever crowd funding appeal! I'm personally not convinced this is the best approach for an musical institution, since if they don't meet their ambitious goal, they get nothing. But what do I know? So, with appropriate encouragements to everyone to open their wallets, here is the website - the English version even :
http://www.kisskissbankbank.com/en/projects/academie-de-musique-de-paris
There is a promotional video there, and if nothing else (by "else" I mean money, which you probably don't have because of your already generous donations to cancer research and the food bank and the animal shelter and the church and Girl Guides and children's soccer team and your neighbour's 400km bike-for-a-noble-cause have already exceed your budget for benevolence), you can watch it and play "how many times can you spot Silke". The answer is a lot, although it is easy to over-count, because it seems in recent previous years, there was also a blond with long hair in the assistent concert-master's seat. Hint: If the assistent concert-master is wearing a low-cut dress slit up the leg, it's not Silke.
So why not click on the site and make a pledge? After all, your credit card will only be charged if they meet their goal. An unlikely event. Made slightly less unlikely insofar as I convince people of its unlikelihood. Edit: Turns out your credit card will be charged, but you will get a refund if they don't make their goal.
Update: Last night's concert, the last of the season, was nearly sold out, and that in Cirque d'Hiver, which seats 1500. So that will help towards balancing the books. It was a phenomenal concert.
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