In which a Jewish family from Brooklyn moves to Paris, France for two years of work, school, and adventures.
101 Cookbooks
A Day in Paris
Alesian Literary Salon
Balabusta
Bus 38 Online
Chocolate and Zucchini
Cucina Testa Rossa
Daniel Gordis: Dispatches from an Anxious State
David Byrne's Website
Dispatches from France
Eurecole
French Wine a Day
French Word-a-Day
Hannah Senesh Community Day School
International School of Paris
Jewish Roman Tours
Kane Street Synagogue
L'Amerloque
Manhattan User's Guide
Microcosmos
Mollie Katzen Online
NYC a Paris
Orangette
Overheard in New York
Pie in Paris
Red Wheelbarrow
Sentence Guy
Speak E-Z Food Reviews
strongbad emails
The Aimless Files
The Julie/Julia Project
This Blog
This Normal Life
today
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Our first year in
The differences between this year’s rentreé and last year’s are dramatic for all of us. (Rentreé is the French equivalent of the expression “back to school,” but it’s a noun, and it’s applied to lots of things besides school—for example, the “rentreé literaire” refers to all the new books published this season.)
Last year, E, (now age 5 and three quarters), was shy and clingy, hiding behind me as we waited in the lobby of his new school for his teacher to gather up her students and lead them to their classroom. I was shy, too, watching and listening to parents of returning children as they greeted each other, hyper-aware of a cluster of English-speaking moms exchanging double cheek kisses and asking “How was your summer?”
This year, of course, both E. and I were swept up in the reunion, right in there with the double-kissers. He hugged Sascha, his best friend, who he has not seen since the end of June. There was just a little tension, of course, as E. glanced around to make sure his friends were in his class (and ascertained that a little boy he doesn’t like was not). Along with the rest of his classmates and their parents, we climbed the stairs to the Grande Section Jaune (Kindergarten Yellow, as opposed to Kindergarten Blue) classroom. A few children were crying. E. walked into the classroom and immediately took a seat at the table, where paper and markers were ready.
That was Monday. J. (age 15) and R. (age 12) started school Wednesday. It was totally anticlimactic--no anxiety, no news except a few details about which kids have left, which ones are new, which teachers they have, etc. R. went to Trocadero with his friends after school to scooter and skateboard.
