F Train to Paris

In which a Jewish family from Brooklyn moves to Paris, France for two years of work, school, and adventures.

 

On Tuesday, as we were leaving school, E. (age 6) suddenly said, "The Louvre is great! You can see the pyramid, and you can eat whatever you want in the restaurant." I wondered where this came from, as we haven't been to the Louvre in a couple of months, and the last time we took him it wasn't a huge success, but I was certainly happy to hear it. "Do you want to go tomorrow afternoon?" I asked. Wednesday is a half day in most Paris private schools (public school kids have the whole day off), and we had no plans.

Usually on Wednesdays, I send a lunchbox and have E. stay in school until 1:30. (Last year I wasn't even aware that this was an option--the school doesn't publicize it.) But yesterday I picked him up at noon so we could have lunch in the Louvre food court, which is a somewhat upscale version of an American mall food court. We took the bus to Concorde and walked through the Tuileries, entering the Louvre through the underground mall to avoid the lines at the pyramid. Although we had been discussing sushi v. pizza, we ended up sharing a falafel and humus platter. Next stop, the children's book store to pick up markers and a sketchbook, which I had forgotten to bring. Lately, E. will happily go anywhere with us as long as we let him stop and draw.

And on to the museum. "First let's go see the mummies," E. requested. "Then I want to look at sculptures." I was impressed.

The easiest place to find mummies is a small exhibit about Egypt during the Roman empire, which is in the Denon wing right outside the Cafe Denon (a very nice place to eat lunch when you're at the Louvre, if you aren't with a small child who wants pizza, sushi, or falafel). Not far from there is a series of galleries with sculptures from the sixth through the fifteenth century. We found a bench, and E. sketched a wooden sculpture of a woman in a red dress. This was the last drawing he made that had anything to do with what we saw around us. For the next hour, E. led me through the museum, stopping at benches along the way to draw. First he did a series of boats with colorful, patterned sails, and then he began a project he described as a movie, with pictures of various monsters, each under a different kind of moon. I think he was envisioning his own version of a "flip book."

I had a book with me as always, and I read as he drew. From time to time I did look up at the art around us, but for the most part the two of us just sat on benches, drawing and reading, with the Louvre as a backdrop.  I've never experienced the Louvre or any museum in this particular way, but it was quite pleasant.  We sat in rooms that were quiet, far from the crowds snapping photos of the Mona Lisa and Winged Victory. Finally, perched on a stair in a breathtaking room with marble floors and walls and a gilded, frescoed ceiling, E. announced that he was finished. We left the museum through the large pyramid, as I'd promised when we arrived. Then we walked west through the Tuileries toward the bus stop, stopping for sorbet and a carousel ride along the way.

 

posted by: pariskleinmans at 10:37 | link | comments (6) |

For family and friends who read this blog to find out what we're up to over here in Paris, here's a family update:

J., our oldest son, also known as occasional guest blogger Hankobus, has finally returned from a whirlwind month of travel. He spent a week in Barcelona with his Spanish class, followed almost immediately by five days in Dublin participating in a Model United Nations. I hope he'll take over the keyboard sometime soon to write about his experiences.

R., our second son, had his moment in the spotlight this week, playing a lead role (Fat Sam) in the ISP Middle School production of "Bugsy Malone." Of course, his parents were proud, but several unrelated, completely objective individuals told me they thought he stole the show. We saw his first performance, but the second one took place on the Jewish holiday of Purim, so while R. was onstage, E. and I were listening to Megillat Esther (the Book of Esther) at Adath Shalom.  E. was in costume, dressed as Captain Hook. (We forgot to bring a grogger, and his hook came in handy for making noise.) The shul was crowded,  hot, and of course noisy, all typical for Purim. The megillah was chanted in Hebrew and then translated, chapter by chapter, into French.

Today is Easter Monday, and Ralph and the kids were off from work and school. We had  tried unsuccessfully  to make a last-minute reservation at a bed and breakfast so we could get out of the city for a couple of days, but as the weather has turned gray and rainy, it's probably for the best that we stayed in town. Yesterday, Ralph and I took E. to Fontainebleau--the older boys refused to go--and today the same threesome joined a group of friends for an Easter egg hunt and picnic in the Parc Montsouris. (E. has been a little obsessed with Easter eggs, thanks to songs and art projects in school.) Wouldn't you know it--the Jewish kid tied for the most eggs found. To balance things a little, I brought a batch of hamentashen as my contribution to the picnic.

Happy birthday to my nephew Judah, happy anniversary to Zaidy and Grandma, and happy birthday and refuah shelaimah to Uncle Irwin.

posted by: pariskleinmans at 15:24 | link | comments (3) |

Our apartment is in a charming neighborhood of small apartment buildings and private houses, including several magnificent mansions that we pass every day. After we’d been living here a few months, we figured out that a couple of these mansions were empty. Last summer, one became an ambassador’s residence, and just a couple of weeks ago we noticed in the International Herald Tribune that another was being sold at auction this month. Today, it was open to the public for a couple of hours, and I happened to walk past while the gates were open. What a treat!

The house’s ground floor is magnificent, although it has unfortunately been poorly maintained. The rooms all have high ceilings and beautiful detail. There’s a huge entry with a marble floor, opening into a parlor with a parquet floor, which leads to a garden. There are lots of large windows looking out onto the house’s own garden and the Jardins de Ranelagh, which it backs on.

Upstairs, the rooms are small and low-ceilinged, except for a large central area right the middle, which you can see in the photo (which I promise to add soon; I'm figuring out how to upload images to the blog). It has a glass ceiling and is equipped as a gym. The exercise equipment is all still there, although the house was otherwise empty of furniture (except curtains).

As I was walking out, I realized that I hadn’t seen a kitchen. It must be in the basement.

I always thought this house looked just right for a large, sprawling family, but having been inside, I can’t imagine a family living here. It’s perfect for entertaining—I envision a large cocktail party on a summer evening, with guests spilling out into the garden--but none of the rooms feel like bedrooms. The downstairs rooms are all too grand, the upstairs rooms too small.

posted by: pariskleinmans at 17:34 | link | comments (2) |

posted by: pariskleinmans at 15:20 | link | comments (1) |

Hey this is Hankobus,
For those of you who don't remember I wrote an entry several months back. At the time I said I'd write semi-frequently , but it turns out that I'm really lazy, so instead I just watched TV.

The reason I'm writing now is to comment on "International Womens Day."  When I first heard about women's day I was intrigued (for those of you who are wondering, NO I'm not a girl!). I wondered what was expected on women's day, whether there was a men's day, and whether it was spelled womens or women's.

Sadly I soon realized that there was no mens/'s day. I also realized that womens/'s day already exists in the form of Valentines Day.

I then set myself the task of inventing mens/'s day. Here it is:

posted by: pariskleinmans at 18:40 | link | comments (2) |

As we crammed our baggage and then ourselves into the taxi, the driver asked, "Vous partez au soleil?"  ("Are you headed for the sun?") An interesting guess, considering this winter vacation is called "La Semaine du Ski," and virtually everyone we know was headed for the slopes. But he was right; we had decided to skip the Alps and vacation instead in southern Spain, where the weather would be warmer than frigid Paris. We weren't planning to lie on the beach--it wouldn't be warm enough for that--but simply to do some sightseeing in the sun.

We flew to Seville, and as we left the terminal and walked toward the rental car lot, the bright sun reawakened us from the winter doldrums. We drove to Granada to spend a few days there, planning to return to Seville later in the week. It was a wonderful week, full of history, cathedrals and mosques, palaces, moorish architecture, and tapas.

Our first meal in Spain was consumed at a roadside restaurant  where it was sunny enough to eat outdoors. The menu was almost completely incomprehensible, and our guide books with menu translations were buried deep in the trunk of the rental car. We managed to order some olives, cheese, and plates of fried salt cod with salad. It was a successful and delicious meal as well as a taste of things to come--because we are kosher, we are severely limited in a country where the cuisine seems to be built around ham and shellfish. With the addition of gazpacho and tortillas (the ubiquitous spanish potato omelets), we would be eating olives, cheese, and fried fish all week. But on that first day, it was new and exciting.

Aside from the stress of driving into strange cities and trying to find hotels located on pedestrian streets (and let me just say that I'm lucky my family is still speaking to me after two rounds of this), the trip went smoothly. Our hotels in Granada and Seville were lovely and well located. The kids were, for the most part, interested and agreeable. I will tell you all about it, but not tonight. It's midnight, and I'm going to sleep.

posted by: pariskleinmans at 22:03 | link | comments (4) |