Blundering In Besançon

VIDE MAISON

2010-08-03T23:56:00.009+02:00

Nous allons retourner en Amerique – TOUT doit être vendu!
Si vous êtes intéressé - appelez Rebecca a 06 72 08 84 11 ou venez à nos portes ouvertes - vendredi 7 août et le lundi 9 août - 17:00-22:00 - doudou gratuit avec tout achat ....

Nous sommes à 15 rue des Hautes de Saint Claude, logement 10, 25000 Besançon, juste à coté de la PSB. Voila le plan, on n'est pas loin de la Rue de Vesoul et Bd Winston Churchill :

plus detailée :

CUISINE
~~Etagere – 20 Euros~~ réservé

Buffet de cuisine – 150 Euros

~~Lave linge – 100 Euros~~ vendu!

~~Micro-onde – 40 Euros~~ vendu! Grille-pain-four – 10 Euros

~~Seche linge – NOUVEAU en Decembre – 200 Euros~~ vendu!

Et encore plus! Les chaises, les assiettes, et beaucoup des outils de cuisine – Tout est 10 Euros ou moins

SALON

2 Canapé Convertable (avec un lit – matelas de haut qualité) - 200 Euros chaque un (draps compris)

CHAMBRE

Lit-Superposé avec bureau, commode-coiffeuse, coffre de jouets, biblioteque et un lit tout petit (draps compris) – 300 Euros
Commode-coiffeuse – 75 Euros

Armoire – 100 Euros

Bibliotheque – 30 Euros

Lit a eau avec tout les accessoires – 200 Euros

Buffet – 100 Euros -- 189cm x 55cm (P) x 104cm (H) - environ 80kg

Voiture

Peugeot 405 GRTD (diesel turbo), CT OK Nov 2010, 309,000km – bon etat, propre, CD, roule bien, economisez l’essence – 1600 Euro

Velos

Velos – 2 adults 90 Euros chaque un , 3 vendu! 2 enfants 20 Euros chaque un

DIVERS
Zhu Zhu Pets – 10 Euros
Table avec 2 bancs – 50 Euros

Legos – 40 Euros
~~Table pliable avec 4 chaises – 50 Euros~~ vendu!

30 Kilo de trains en bois – 200 Euros

Les Etageres – 40 Euros chaque un

Les Coffres – 25 Euros chaque un

Jeux de societe, les horologes, les lumieres, les livres, various choses pour fait de l'artisanat d'art, voitures de Matchbox, -
Et encore beaucoup plus!

Nous comptons sur la bouche-à-oreille. Si vous connaissez quelqu'un, quelque part, qui a besoin de quoi que ce soit - s'il vous plaît s'il vous plaît envoyez-la-nous!

L’Atelier des Chefs

2010-08-03T23:20:00.001+02:00

July 1-2, 2010

For our second quarterly meetings of 2010, the entire company went to our new Paris offices—the Parisians had moved from a small 3-room closet to enough room for everyone in the company to meet and do break-out sessions.

In the evening, we had the chance to learn to cook from a real chef—and we had a great time. Half the team started by preparing cocktails, while the rest worked on the main dish:

Then we traded rooms and prepared appetizers and dessert.

Is this sanitary? Maybe by French standards.

A few people got carried away with their creativity (but that’s why they’re in the R&D department, right?):

Besides the chance to meet face-to-face with everyone, I really enjoyed being in Paris overnight because that meant I could go running the next morning. Our offices are not far from les Champs d’Elysées, so I did a grand loop from l’Arc de Triomphe, past le Louvre, then along the Sienne, got lost, and eventually ended back up at my hotel. The biggest problem in asking for help to get back is I couldn’t pronounce the name of the street correctly!

On the way home, I caught a glimpse of something I’d never see in the states—look at these pizza delivery vehicles! Miam, Miam!

Chez Alain Annie

2010-08-02T08:48:00.001+02:00

July 11, 2010

We were very lucky to go see Alain and Annie (our former bakers) for a visit at their house on Sunday. They live in a village just a bit outside of Besancon called Chalezeule. The view from their backyard is at left. What a location!

It is very fun to visit people who used to cook for a living. The food was amazing –- and there was plenty of it. Plus it was all presented so beautifully. I was glad because we were the only guests. It is much easier for me to converse in French when things are one-on one rather than in a big group. We ate out in their backyard and Callie (inspired by a movie Le Papillon) was determined to catch a butterfly. As you can see, she did it! Annie was great with all the kids – you can tell she’s a grandma! Alain (a pastry chef) made a special gluten free cake for dessert- and, since it is almost Zander’s birthday, they insisted we sing for him. The cake was, bar none, the best I’ve ever eaten…

After we finished eating, we went for the traditional Sunday afternoon walk to the Source d’Arcier, just a few minutes from their home. On the way we passed an area where camper vans wer parked. Annie explained it was a local rest area for the gens du voyage (traveling people). We think this must be the politically correct way to refer to the gypsies. Turns out that they are still around all over Europe. They travel from place to place, resting in the same areas they have for thousands of years. One year, a town built a soccer field in their traditional spot and they camped there anyway, destroying the field. After incidents like that, the local towns decided to make designated areas for them, with free electrical hook ups and running water. They can stay in any one place for up to a month. Annie says that some people think that all gens du voyage are theives and they have a bad reputation. She says they used to make a living doing jobs for people – but that is needed less and less. They still make baskets and sharpen knives for some money. It made me very curious and, ever since this day, I have been wanting to wander into one of the rest areas to meet a real gypsy –and maybe buy a basket? It was a hot day so very nice to be in the cool forest. We hung out by the waterfall, looked at the source and Daddie took a little nap! On the way back Annie made Callie a leaf bracelet.

On the way back, we stopped at an old brick forge (les fours a chaux) that is in their area – It was very interesting.

We also stopped to see a beautiful view – we ended up hanging out for about 6 hours! Hopefully we will see them again before we move to the USA. Thanks friends….

Callie gets a hair cut

2010-08-02T08:37:00.001+02:00

July 8, 2010

OK – this might not seem blogworthy – but, fact is, Callie has NEVER gotten a hair cut in her long 7 and a half years of life. (Unless you count the time that Zander chopped off her pigtail when she was about 2 years old). There had been several moments, in the past couple of years, when she said she wanted to cut it – and I always said it would be fine, if she still felt that way in a week, we would do it. Every other time she changed her mind- but this time she was ready.

Here is before….

During….

And after! She is a whole new woman…. This is going to take some getting used to… Oh, btw, I got my hair cut too – and I haven’t gotten it cut since before Griffin was born – so maybe about 6 years??? There is a before shot – but no after….

She LOVES her new do – and I am starting to accept it. Goodbye long Goldilocks! I will miss you….

Cascades du Herisson with Kelly

2010-08-02T07:56:00.001+02:00

Wed, July 7, 2010

Ever since we first visited the Cascades du Herisson, we have wanted to return. We decided to take our favorite tutor and friend, Kelly, there for a visit. She is an American in Besancon for this year to teach English to French students and is leaving at the end of July. She has her own excellent blog at www.quellequellebelle.blogspot.com.

Anyway, we once again got a bit lost getting there… we passed through Pontarlier and had to stop for directions a couple of times before we finally figured it out. I note here that getting lost with Kelly is far less stressful than getting lost with André! We finally got there and were instantly rewarded by sights of ingrown road signs and cool fresh water… We were all starving so, as soon as the Eventail (the first big waterfall) was in sight, we stopped to eat!

Then, of course, it was time to play around in the water! Kelly’s shades look great on Callie!

We eventually soldiered onwards towards the Eventail and then mounted the stairs to get to the top of it.

Kelly has an injured foot, so we just hung out at the next small waterfall for the next hour or so, building dams and playing around. Zander was crushed we weren’t going to go back to Le Couer Bleu (his favorite from the last time) but he eventually got over it and joined in the dam-building fun. I’m not sure how Kelly felt about this stuff, but she joined in with enthusiasm! Zander insisted we leave our name in rocks at the dam site – this is becoming a tradition!

We hopped back in the car to drive up to the top of the trail. It seems we could get there if we just went on the roads about 10km and stopped at a place called “Fromagerie”. Kelly has never been to a fromagerie so I thought it would be a perfect stop. We got there just fine – but then discovered there wasn’t really a fromagerie at all. Just some souvenir shops – why the place is called Fromagerie is beyond me!

That’s OK though, we parked and walked the path for the highest waterfall. We didn’t make it this far the last time we came and it was fun to see something new. We splashed around there for another hour or so before heading back to the car. Kelly and I even stood under the waterfall (photo courtesy Zander). I wonder why it is so scary to stand under a waterfall – I mean, it is really no different than a giant cold shower!

We headed back to the car. On the way, Griffin found a special rock he wanted to bring home with him. I said no, but suggested taking a photo so we could always remember – he is showing off the best angle at right. I also took a shot of an old stone wall – they are everywhere in the Franche Comte and so beautiful!

He also picked Kelly a bouquet and I taught her a bit of my (limited) wildflower knowledge. We stopped at an overlook for the local lake as well. In the photo below, you can see the lake looks sort of normal, beautiful, but nothing special. But this lake is not normal people! It is a bizarre shade of teal – and was the same shade when we visited the last time. We even pulled over to ask some locals WHY it was this color. They said it was because it was a beautiful day – but I’m thinking there is more to the story than that – what, I don’t know!

So stopping for dinner at the same place we did the last time. It was no where near as good as I remembered. Is it because I have more refined tastes or because there are different cooks? The dessert, however, was delicious! Thanks for coming along Kelly!

Mandeure

2010-08-02T07:47:00.001+02:00

Sat July 3, 2010

The day after the last day of school, we went to visit Severine, Christoff, Robin and Armand at Severine’s parents house in Mandeure. Mr. Liberty was suffering some problems from his tire blow-out in Italy and we had to borrow Olivier’s car to get out there (thank you!). We spent the first 4 hours or so chatting and eating lunch. Yes, 4 hours for lunch is pretty normal. Appetizer, then a salad or fruit, main course, cheese and finally dessert. And, between each course, spend at least 10-15 minutes chatting. I really don’t get why more French people aren’t fat as houses…

The kids played while we chatted… Armand, at 8 months, is super cute – playing with him made me miss my niece Julia more than usual – she is at this same super fun age! At the same time, my decision to be done with having kids was re-confirmed – fun to play with, but wouldn’t want to have another one of my own.

After the four hours of eating, we went to the ruins of a Roman Theatre, that has only been discovered in the past 20 or so years. It was very cool because one of the archeology students that was living there for the summer gave us a guided tour to tell us all about the place.

Griffin is sitting on the stairs and, at his left, you can hopefully see what looks like arches of stones filled with more bricks. These are not doors they decided not to use any more. In fact, these are called relieving or stiffening arches and were put into place on purpose to “transfer vertical loads and, to a lesser degree, lateral thrust to the stabilized surfaces, minimizing stress on the weaker parts of the substrate.” So, since they weren’t sure what they were building on all the time, they transferred weight whenever they could.

We walked further and heard all about how this now sparsely populated area was once a great city and this theatre was almost as large as the coliseum in Rome. You can still see the footings for the great columns that ringed the entire site.

In the theatre, many plays were put on. The guide explained women were allowed to have parts – as long as they were silent! The kids were not particularly impressed with all the lecturing…. but Griffin passed the time picking a bouquet, of course.

We climbed to the top of the stadium and I got a chance to play with Armand again! They were doing more excavating on the top of the theatre – uncovering the outside walls. They also found the ancient well- it had been poisoned with dead animals…

Then we headed back down the hill towards the cars. Griffin and Robin started to play together just about when it was time to go. Oh well! Maybe another day… Thanks friends!

Avignon (sur le pont de)

2010-08-02T07:36:00.001+02:00

June 26, 2010

So, on the way home on Sunday, we decided to stop in Avignon. Mainly, we wanted to see the bridge. The bridge in Avignon is particularly famous due to a song we enjoy titled: Sur le Pont d’Avignon. We parked in a garage. It had a crazy kind of rubber flooring – it literally squeaked as we drive across it – especially around corners! Along the edge they had a green colored walkway with little pictures of the town on it. We came up from underground right into the main square. I have to say, out of all the castles we’ve seen so far, the Palais de Popes (Papal Palace) here was the closest to ones that you see drawn in storybooks – or as part of a kid’s play set! Of course, the ancient-times atmosphere was dimmed by the tourists and the giant upside-down elephant sculpture in the square.

We focused on our goal, and soon made it to the bridge. For thousands of years, people had thought it impossible to bridge the super-powerful Rhone river. Finally, a local shepherd boy (who later became Saint Benezet) was told by God to build this bridge to aid pilgrims on their journey. He told the townspeople and they thought him mad until he picked up a boulder the size of a small house and threw it in the river. That inspired everyone and they built the structure between 1171 and 1185. Yet another of those local miracles that crisscross the history of European architecture! The Pont St. Benezet bridge still has a small chapel built right into the middle of it, honoring Saint Benezet. As you can see, it is no longer even a complete bridge – it originally had 22 supports but only 4 remain. Intense flooding in the Rhone river wiped it out many times and they finally gave up rebuilding it in the 1600’s. The current on this river was insanely strong – I remember reading it took about 3 days for cargo to travel downstream, and 30 for it to be towed up again by horse-pulled barges…

Of course – we had to dance! It’s a great kids song – if you want to learn the moves and hear the music – click on the you tube link.

Sur le pont d’Avignon
L'on y danse, l'on y danse
Sur le pont d’Avignon
L'on y danse tous en rond

On the bridge of Avignon
We all dance there, we all dance there
On the bridge of Avignon
We all dance there in a ring

[edit] First Verse

Les beaux messieurs font comme ça

Et puis encore comme ça.

The handsome gentlemen do like this (bow)
And then like that

[edit] Second Verse

Les belles dames font comme ça
Et puis encore comme ça.

The beautiful ladies do like this (curtsy)
And then like that

[edit] Third Verse

Les militaires font comme ça
Et puis encore comme ça

The soldiers do like this (salute)
And then like that

[edit] Fourth Verse

Les musiciens font comme ça
Et puis encore comme ça.

The musicians do like this (play violin)
And then like that

It’s funny that, although the song says you are supposed to dance ON the bridge that is not historically what happened. People would dance under the bridge on the little islands to avoid the rain. But hey, that all stopped in the 1600’s and tourists have been dancing ON it for the past 400 years – so maybe it’s not so wrong, anymore. We stopped at the carousel on the way out….

Goodbye Avignon – and here’s to the end of another fabulous vacation….

Monaco

2010-08-02T07:24:00.001+02:00

June 26, 2010

We stopped to see Le Cote d’Azur in Monaco. It was recommended by friends and we’d never been. Also, Monaco, tiny as it is, counts as another country – number 14 – and the last (sad) for our list!

This is a small country –- it is the second smallest in the world (Vatican City is the smallest). There are only around 33,000 inhabitants and 84% of them are rich foreigners who claim their residence there to avoid taxes. People from all over the world come here to gamble and tourism is the main industry (but the residents of Monaco are not allowed to gamble). This is a constitutional monarchy and ruled by the same family since 1297. France has tried to take it over a few times – but was ultimately unsuccessful. One thing I thought fascinating about Monaco was that, until a new constitution in 1960, women did not have the right to vote. OK, it beats Lichtenstein whose poor oppressed women didn’t get the right to vote until 2003 – but still! What is with these tiny rich countries that deny suffrage? Other countries that still deny women the right to vote include (thanks Wiki) Brunei and Saudi Arabia – both Islamic Absolute Monarchies where women are also not allowed to drive! Hmm… Monaco, rich as it is, is a great place to people watch. The citizens are styling and the buildings are all clean and beautiful. Guess they don’t want beach bums destroying the aesthetic – as you can see from the signs below.

We parked and headed up the hill to the main square of town, where the Prince’s Palace of Monaco and gardens are located. There were probably thousands of yachts in the harbor. We were impressed by the size of the castle and the obvious mixture of old and new styles. Walking onward, we passed the St. Nicholas Cathedral. Nearby a sign proudly showed that this was where Princess Grace had married the Prince of Monaco. Princess Grace must be a big tourist draw, since there were signs about her several other places in Monaco. This is where she walked with her son, this is where she drove her car, etc… etc…

We were heading for the Aquarium. I had read it was an amazing place and was not at all disappointed. The collection of fish was impressive. Turns out that Monaco is famous for Oceanography and the monarchy has taken a passionate interest in the preservation and management of the ocean. Sounds like a nice thing to do with all that money…. better than buying a ranch in Texas and pretending to be a cowboy.

The coolest thing about this aquarium was that it was also an oceanographic museum and housed in an amazing old building. We got to look at whale skeletons, old tools for diving and so much more – and in a magnificent setting.

One of the neatest things they had in the museum was a model of the very first military submarine ever invented. (The history of submarines is fascinating and you can read about it here). The Turtle was an invention of an early American, David Bushnell, in 1775. He invented it as a way to attach explosives to the underside of ships. It was powered by a hand crank and used against British ships during the Revolutionary War. At least he tried to use it – it didn’t really work as well as he had hoped and ended up being sunk by the British.

But hey, no matter, this thing is still super cool and paved the way for modern submarine warfare. Yay?

We took the time to wander through some gorgeous gardens and appreciate the views before getting one last gelato (so clear we weren’t in Italy anymore) and heading back to the car. We had a lot of fun watching some dressage from on high as well

We are sleeping in the car tonight – so let’s enjoy one last sunset…

Genoa – Genes - Genova

2010-07-29T19:57:00.001+02:00

June 26, 2010

We left our villa early Saturday morning and headed back to France. On the way we were passing Genoa – home of my favorite salami, and decided to stop in. I find it amazing how much the names of the cities we visit vary depending on the language spoken. I mean, why does this happen??? It can’t all be accent…

Well, regardless of what you call it, it is still located in the same spot. As soon as we parked, I was forcibly reminded of the other big Genovese claim to fame: Christopher Columbus.

That’s right -- he was born, raised and rejected right here in Genoa. You can’t really tell – but the flower shapes behind the kids and I are none other than the famous Nina, Pinta and Santa Maria. They weren’t labeled, but it’s the only logical explanation.

I had read online that the largest wall in the world (outside of China) was located in none other than this city. That’s right, the Great Wall of Italy! So, naturally, we wanted to find it – André was particularly interested... We ended up asking some very nice cops (who had never heard of the thing) for help. They pointed us to the street I had written down and we went onward.

On the way, we passed a wonderful market – it reminded me a bit of Reading Terminal Market in Philadelphia – but more authentic. Of course, RTM is an authentic market, so what do I know? Maybe it was just the fact they were all speaking Italian and there was LOTS of garlic.

I got some salami from a vendor – she said it was traditional for the region – but not “the” salami that Genoa is famous for. Oh well, I’ll take what I can get – money is running out this late in the game so we get 5 slices…. 2 Euros please!

We walked on, enjoying, yet again, the lovely covered walkways with marble paving that is so prevalent in Italian cities. We eventually reached the Piazza di Ferrari. I loved the fountain there.

We didn’t see the Great Wall of Italy anywhere – but did find the St. Lawrence Cathedral. All but the first photo are thanks to Wiki – ours did not come out at all. I think of this as the Zebra Church – for obvious reasons…

I thought it was interesting to read that this cathedral was bombed, but not destroyed during WWII. “The cathedral had a fortunate escape on February 9, 1941 when the city was being shelled as part of Operation Grog. Due to a crew error, the British battleship HMS Malaya fired a 15" armour-piercing shell into the south east corner of the nave. The relatively soft material failed to detonate the fuse and the shell is still there.” Of course, the local residents consider this a miraculous intervention – and maybe it was…

We took a short break to eat our salami (awesome) and then head back to the car. On the way we passed a strange French artist who gave the kids free Matchbox cars. We also finally saw a part of the city named after yours truly. I am standing next to Via di Ravecca (translation: Rebecca’s Way).

The Via di Ravecca was part of an enormous gate. It is known as the Porta Soprana and is only a part of the extensive network of walls that remain within the city from medieval times. As we continued past the gate (theorizing it must be a part of the supposed ‘great’ wall) we noticed a little ramshackle ruin remaining standing alone on the street.

That’s right – the building at above right is none other than Christopher Columbus’s house! How cool is that? Accidental discoveries are the best. Below you can see a view of the square with the gate and the house – and also the extensive wall we observed while leaving the city. It was pretty huge – but not what I was expecting.

You’d think I’d be used to that, by now, wouldn’t you? Goodbye Genoa, our last stop in Italy. We loved being here….

Italian Road

2010-07-29T19:29:00.001+02:00

June 18-27, 2010

Out of our 9 days vacationing, we spent 1 entire day (at least) on the road. We started out with our dinner on the way. We used to get McDonalds, because it is open at 5pm when we want to leave – but I hate that – so we went Greek this time. This little restaurant is walking distance from our house, and so amazingly good.. So what if we had to wait until 6?

My most loyal fans might remember the agony of the Irish roads. Well, I’m here to tell you Italy is an improvement, but not by much. The great thing about Italy is that they do highways well, they are fast, modern, smooth and have lots of tunnels to go through – and I mean lots and lots and lots! Usually they were modern and sometimes they were just hacked out of the solid rock mountain like the one below.

So the highways and signage were, in general, good. But then there were the smaller mountain roads. These roads provided amazing views but were ribbon thin- winding their way so torturously through the mountains we felt like every road was one way. In fact, the only way to make progress on these roads was to drive as if they were one way, and just get to the side quickly if you saw a fellow traveler. Luckily the roads were not busy and we were very grateful for Mr. Liberty’s strong engine and stick shift! The roads are very steep and they often have no guard rail on the edges. The turns are sharp, and often completely blind. There are many places where loose rocks scatter across the road, fallen from on high. Sometimes the edge of the road is visibly crumbling and has flimsy plastic tied up to warn people – along with the helpful “car might fall off cliff” sign. At places, the mountain itself hadn’t been fully blasted away – and we had to drive sort of under it.

It was an adventure, to say the least. But look at the sights we saw from the road…. Now I have seen French mountains, Swiss mountains, German mountains, Austrian mountains and green and gorgeous Italian mountains – often with little villages perched atop of them.

As we headed back to France, we drove along the Riviera. It gave me a better appreciation of how special Cinque Terre was. It is so very heavily populated and overcrowded anywhere else we saw near the ocean – no space for special hiking trails and views – just boats and houses and cities, from the edge of the sea crawling right up the cliffs.

We saw tons of motorcyclists in Italy – must be fun on those winding roads – and lots and lots of olive groves. I was disappointed that there was none open to the public (that we found) for a tour or maybe a demonstration on how they make olive oil. We also saw this incredible example of art nouveau architecture outside of a city we visited – I want it!

The twists and turns were so severe, Callie kept getting carsick. We had to pull over to let her rest a few times. Then we had her ‘drive’ the car with us – and of course the boys played along. This worked OK – enough to keep her from puking, at least. We soldiered on – past an amazing marble quarry that looked like a church to me. Mr. Liberty, at 17, does not have the luxury of AC, so you can see André needed to use my little spray bottle to keep cool in the car – as we all did!

The final challenge of the Italian road didn’t happen until we were less than an hour from home. I was driving along at 140 km/hr when BOOM! my tire blew. Someone called roadside assistance (provided free in France) and he met us at the nearest rest station. We were able to change the flat, but something was wrong with the way the car was driving – we limped home slowly and it turned out Mr. Liberty needed a whole new rear axle! Luckily enough our garagist was able to replace it for less than 500 Euros. So Mr. L continues on as our car – ready for the next twisty, turny adventure!

Pisa – so much more than just a leaning tower!

2010-07-29T19:20:00.001+02:00

June 25, 2010

Of course, after our relaxing beach morning, we couldn’t leave the area without visiting the city of Pisa. That’s right – the one and only place where resides The Leaning Tower of Pisa. But I am here to tell you – there is ever so much more! As Wiki states succinctly; “Although Pisa is known worldwide for its Leaning Tower (the bell tower of the city's cathedral), the city of over 87,500 residents contains more than 20 other historic churches, several palaces and various bridges across the River Arno. The city is also home of to a large University with a history going back to the 12th century.” So there!

I mean, you know about the beach – amazing and free only about 5 minutes from the city. I need to also give a short shout out for the roads – which can be pretty dicey in Italy. We got to Pisa without a problem, lots of excellent signage, and parked. We were heading for the tower, of course and I can’t give it short shrift. It is a really amazing structure. A campanile built over a period of 177 years, it really does lean – a lot – in fact it is a bit more than 12 feet tipped from where it would be if it war upright. It sounds lame, but seeing it in person in sort of amazing. BUT, the point is, it does not lean alone. The tower is only a part of an amazing complex of buildings known as the Piazza del Duomo.

I was happy to see the prominent statue of Romulus and Remus, suckling the she-wolf on the Field of Miracles (Il Campo dei Miracoli) located right next to the leaning tower. I was unable to find out how the field got that name. Maybe because it’s a miracle that the tower hasn’t fallen over yet? Anyway, the kids didn’t know about Romulus and Remus and it gave me the opportunity to tell them the legend of the founding of Rome. Famous babies in baskets, Moses, Romulus and Remus – others??? We took lots of photos in the piazza of the tower, the baptistery (which tilts a bit too) and the church. We opted not to climb the tower, it was ridiculously overpriced and we would have had to wait for hours. We did opt to pay a small fee to go into the cathedral.

Once again, the cathedral was worth it! The Duomo, a massive medieval cathedral, was a true work of art. I loved the large bronze doors, the marble work and the Byzantine-influenced coffered ceiling.

We left the church and started walking through the city – heading for, supposedly, the best gelato in all of Italy. In every other city, we had just stopped randomly. This time I wanted the best – and we had to walk to get it! The walk was rather lovely though – with reasonably priced shops and lots of friendly people to help lost tourists. La Bottega del Gelato was absolutely worth the hike. The prices were low, the selection of flavors was incredible! The servings were huge and it tasted awesome. I am literally salivating as I write this blog, just thinking about the gelato… Add it to the list of Pisa plusses please!

We headed back towards the car, going a different way, of course and, typically, Griffin needed to go potty. I mention this because Pisa, unlike any other European city we’ve spent time in, has lots of potties, free ones, out and about! So, instead of embarrassing myself in a cafe or sullying another alley with little boy urine, we used the convenient port-a-potty. Thank you Pisa!

We wandered along the River Arno. This is a gorgeous city.

We stopped in a few churches we passed as well. I like the smaller churches because they are always so peaceful – much more spiritual than the giant ones with tons of tourists. We found beautiful buildings and architecture all over the place.

But wait, just when you thought it couldn’t possibly be, there is, in fact , more! We thought we were done with Pisa until we realized we could rent a family bike for only 10 Euros for 40 minutes. The prices here are cheap and the entertainment is right up our alley. We knew this would put us past the time we paid for on our parking meter, but away we went, passing some Roman ruins and risking the wrath of the parking ticket gods…

As we left the city, I noticed other things – they have neat sewer covers, don’t make you separate your recyclables here, there are obviously sights we have missed completely (check out those medieval walls), and hey, is that a spaghetteria???

Finally, I can’t close without mentioning we did not get a parking ticket. Pisa, thanks for the visit – I got so much more than I had expected!

Pisa Beach

2010-07-29T19:10:00.001+02:00

June 25, 2010

So, it was Friday, the last day of our stay in Tuscany – and we knew we needed to hit the beach.

It was a very easy drive and we had a great morning. It is interesting to be on a beach where the backdrop is the mountains. The beach sand is soooooooooo soft and the kids were thrilled to be there.

Callie, Griffin and I got creative with shells while Daddie and Zander started work on an amazing sand castle. I don’t think they do sand castles much in Italy since people who passed by seemed to be utterly amazed by their creation. It was pretty cool…

We went swimming too – the water was a bit cold, but not too bad.

The beach started to fill up as the morning drew on, but never got terribly crowded. No one was topless, but I think I was the only woman, of any size in a one-piece bathing suit. The strangest custom we observed while there was definitely the vendors. There were dozens of people, mostly African men, hawking stuff on the beach. They walked along, porting their wares, and stopping frequently to tempt the beachgoers. This might not have been so strange if they were less pushy – but they wouldn’t leave your blanket until you said a definitive NO! Also, they sold the strangest stuff – there were a few who sold the expected sunglasses, beach jewelry, towels and (tempting) even a walking masseuse. But most of them had things like clothes, nice jewelry, sneakers, sculptures, bows and arrows and even giant woven containers – completely bizarre.

We had our picnic and then, before we left, everyone worked together to decorate and make the castle even more amazing. Zander made a triple moat to slow down the tide – he really didn’t want to leave – and who can blame him?

Mount Forato

2010-07-29T18:58:00.001+02:00

June 25, 2010

There were dozens of sights to see in the area, rivers, caves, bears, etc… but we opted to try going for a natural arch. I had never seen one and it seemed like the hike would be fun. The photo from the tourist guide is shown at right.

We got there after an hour or so of torturous roads and started up the mountain. It was a beautiful day. In fact, we had gorgeous weather the entire time we were in Tuscany. The wildflowers were beautiful and we even saw some unique butterflies. There was a little house tucked along the side of the path at one point. In Italy, we saw houses grouped in villages, like France, but also a strong culture of people wanting solitude and privacy. We saw little houses all alone all over the place – and, outside the towns, all the houses were far apart.

It was a really fun hike, a rugged path with twists and turns. We stopped when we saw a cave and, being us, decided to explore it – I always have a flashlight and Daddie had his new one as well. It was really fun because, once we went in around 100 feet or so, there was an underground river! It ran onward and, being me, I decided to follow it up further – you only live once, right? The water was icy cold but the rewards were spectacular – after a few feet of stooping, the ceiling opened up and then, about another 50 feet further there was a giant cavern complete with underground waterfall, stalactites and stalagmites. It was so incredible I went back to get the rest of the family. Callie and Griffin were too scared, so they stayed behind while Zander, André and I went back. Definitely one of the neatest things I’ve ever done during our travels. As usual, our cave photos suck (the only good one I stole from here), but you can see how amazing it was, if you wish, by clicking on the you tube link below. We did not go very deep into the cave – since Griffin and Callie were waiting – but what we saw was awesome… The name of it was Tana Che Hurla – or Tana Screaming – since the force of the river makes the cave emit a moaning wail much of the year – we missed out on that, unfortunately!

We soldiered onward, enjoying the hike. We even found a giant earth worm – you can see how big it was by checking out the photo of it lying on my arm below. We had read about these living in the Black Forest, but found them in Italy!

We were also pleased to see a small shrine in the middle of the forest. The Italians really, really, really love Mary and there are little altars everywhere – even in the middle of the woods. The way the rocks are piled on the roof is pretty standard here as well. It seems the rocks can replace broken tiles, hold slipping ones steady or just keep the tar paper tacked down.

Finally, about 2 hours in, we ran into some other hikers – they told us it was at least another 90 minutes up to the arch. Since it was nearly 4pm, we decided to bail. We wanted to be home for dinner and not get stuck on the mountain in the dark. I was really disappointed – who knew it would take us so very long to hike 2km? We headed out, deciding to go a new way back home and were really glad we did because, as chance had it, we got to see beautiful mountains AND the arch from afar! It seems there are many legends on how this arch formed. My favorite is this one: “It seems that when the Virgin Mary, Saint Joseph and Jesus ran away from Erode, they reached Versilia and started looking for a shelter. All they could see were the mountains all around them. Then, the Madonna, with a knock, opened a passageway that led easily down to the Serchio valley. That mountain is nowadays called Mount Forato.” Go Mary!

Seeing how large it is from a distance made me really sad we hadn’t seen it, and also made me curious about natural arches in general. André, with his Utah roots, has been to Arches National Park. We wondered how big this one was in comparison to those. Turns out that natural arches are not that uncommon and this one, “with a span of 105 feet and a height of about 82 feet” doesn’t even make the top 13 largest arches in the world. They all have spans of over 200 feet! It is still pretty awesome though – I mean, look at what I could have seen if we weren’t such wimps? (Thanks) This arch has legends and it is near the quarry where Michelangelo got his marble for most of his sculptures…. Well, someday I will come back – or maybe just head to China to see Fairy Bridge – the largest arch in the world….

Castelnuovo di Garfagnana

2010-07-29T18:39:00.001+02:00

June 24, 2010

After a day of rest on Wednesday, we decided, rather than going to Florence or Rome, we would stay pretty local. The oldest flea market in Italy was held in the small town nearest to us, Castelnuovo di Garfagnana, so we decided to pay a visit.

First we went to the farmers’ market, where I picked up a giant bottle of hand-pressed olive oil and then we went to the street market. It was fun to see so many vendors of all kinds, but a little weird the way so many were hawking cheap clothing and house wares that were obviously made in China! André and I figured that since there are no big box stores in this corner of the world, the big boxes must have to come to the towns! If the mountain won’t come to Mohammed…

It was neat to be in a less touristy area (although there definitely were tourists besides us) and be surrounded by the chatter of the Italian language. We mostly wandered around and ended up buying a few things – a pocket knife for Zander, bracelets for Callie and Griffin, a flashlight for André and a gorgeous quilt for me. This is why I avoid markets, most of the time! But what is a vacation without a few souvenirs? It is fun to see how Zander is getting more responsible with his treasures as he grows older – of course Callie and Griffin both broke their ‘special’ bracelets within a week. We wandered around town a bit more and soaked in the Rocca Ariostesca and views of the old roman bridge over the river Serchio.

Then we headed up the hill near the town to see the Fortrezza di Mont Alfonso. This place was built in the 1500’s as a last defense before Lucca but had been neglected and damaged over time and through bombings during WWI and II. Now it is again in the process of restoration. It was totally deserted but provided some gorgeous views of the Tuscan hills!

Our last stop was for a lunch out… imagine that! We ate at a local place that was recommended by the owners of our villa. We had this amazing pasta dish, the kids had risotto and then some special meat (grilled chicken and pork). Everything was amazing.

Of course, we finished it off with gelato….. can you find me trying to climb into the case? Zander always ordered caramel or lemon. Griffin was into chocolate or strawberry – Callie preferred strawberry or pistachio – André would get the fruity frozen yogurt and something else and I would always either go for chocolate or ask to try the special of this particular gelaterie – the crema here was to die for. Since we ate this every day, and it is the one thing the kids still ask for from Italy – I figured it deserves remembering!

cross-post from Dhondt Say It's Agile

2010-07-29T11:11:00.000+02:00

Rebecca suggested that since my most recent technical blog entry is not as technical as mystical, you may be interested in it as well: Addiction, Totems, and Giving.

Cinque Terre (ChEENqwa – Tehr-ah)

2010-07-28T14:22:00.001+02:00

June 23, 2010

When I hinted around we might go to the Tuscan region of Italy, everyone I knew recommended we visit Cinque Terre. So, we headed there bright and early on Tuesday morning. We put our sunscreen on in the car – the photo of Callie and Griffin at left is completely candid. So sweet!

Cinque Terre is a group of 5 small Italian tourist traps, I mean towns, that are connected by a path running along the edge of the Mediterranean. It was crowded, and we had to park about a mile away from where the entrance to the path began. This is such a popular tourist destination, you even have to PAY to walk on the path – it was about 15 Euros for our family. Paying for hiking – that is so wrong…

Here is what we saw on the way to the beginning of the path… We had to walk down a steep hill and through the picturesque town of Riomaggiore – we were so happy to see the ocean and even peeked into the church.

We stopped to eat our picnic lunch near a local hotel. It was a hot day and here (as it seems in most of Europe) nothing has air-conditioning. The breeze was blowing and the windows were open to catch the fresh air as much as possible. As we munched away on our ham and cheese sandwiches and oranges, we observed a passionate argument between what seemed to be the proprietors of the hotel and their son. It also eventually dragged in the business owner across the street. No blows were thrown and it seemed to resolve itself, but the yelling was so loud all could hear it up and down the street. Of course, it was all in Italian, so I had no clue what was being said. After it blew over, I was listening for a bit and realized that, with the hot weather and the windows open, we could hear everything anyone was saying, if it was much above a whisper. We had already noticed how, in Italy, people were more open, more friendly than in Besancon. André and I put forward a new theory about why this is so – and it all has to do with the weather and real estate. You see, if you live in a hot coastal area, you can’t hide. It is hot, the windows are open and let’s face it, everyone knows everyone else’s business, whether you like it or not. Also, the houses are so close together, you have to learn to deal with your neighbors, get to know them. This combination, over time, results in people being more open and willing to share things. If you live, however, in a colder climate, with neighbors that are few or far from your home, you can easily shut the windows and huddle down alone with only your family. Over time, this results in a more taciturn nature. What do you think?

Finally we got to the path, paid our fee and headed towards the next small village. The views were mind-blowing; what a place.

As we went along, we saw lots of locks stuck all over the place. Turns out these are love padlocks and can be found in places around the world. This particular location in Cinque Terre is the most famous in Italy. Turns out we were walking along “the Via Del l'Amore, a path connecting the towns of Manarola and Riomaggiore in the Cinque Terre. The pathway's legend holds that it was a meeting place for lovers from the two towns, and is now a favorite site for tourists to place their locks and throw the keys into the sea.” I can’t believe I didn’t research this ahead of time so André and I could have joined the tradition.

We reached Manarola, consulted our watches, and decided we had enough time to walk to the next town. Then we’d need to take the train to the end of the 5 cities, where I had reserved a boat cruise for us. The locals obviously use the sea as their swimming pool – jealous!

The walk between Manarola and Corniglia was breathtaking.

We hopped the train (sorry Vernazza) to make it to Monterosso al Mare by 5pm for our boat tour with Angelo. It turns out that I had the dates mixed up and we weren’t supposed to show until tomorrow but, luckily for us, they had no other reservations and took us out anyway. It was a traditional sardine boat and we went snorkeling. Griffin was too scared to snorkel but the rest of us had fun. The fish in the Mediterranean are not as colorful as the Carribean but it was still amazing to watch them swimming around. We went back to the boat and then did some fishing off the side of it. Griffin was the best fisherman of all, catching 4 while the rest of us caught one each – except for Callie, who refused to even try to catch one. (Zander says he caught 2, but I remember 1!) Mr. G was so proud – and says he might grow up to be a fisherman. Good luck bud – I just hope the ocean still is healthy enough for fish when you are grown. We brought the fish home with us and I fried ‘em up for lunch the next day – delish!

We headed back to shore, for a BIG pizza dinner and then the train back to Riomaggiore.

We were all exhausted (except for superfit André) so he ran up the hill to get the car while I snapped shots of the glorious sunset…

Ciao!

Shangrila…

2010-07-28T13:18:00.001+02:00

June 21-26, 2010

We rented a villa for the week we spent in Tuscany. Bad things first – it was IMPOSSIBLE to find. There were bad directions, bad signage and we couldn’t speak Italian, and the owner could not speak much English or French – so he was unable to direct us on the phone. We ended up going in circles and not getting there until around 1am. This place gave new meaning to the phrase “in the middle of nowhere”. We took the photos below to show you the efficacy of the signage – the first two show the signage as you are driving up – and the third is on the way back (i.e. you see it when you realize you have gone the wrong way and turn around). I must note, that it has an arrow that is clearly pointing into a cow field – not so helpful…. and utterly wrong. None of these were visible in the dark.

OK, done with negativity. La Campanella was heaven – they do say it is hard to get there, right? It was an entire house, with 2 bedrooms, a living room, dining room, bathroom and large well-equipped kitchen. It was located in Tuscany about 40 minutes from Lucca and less than 2 hours from Pisa, Florence, Livorno and Cinque Terre. Heck, Rome is only 320km away! Linens, towels and cleaning were included in the price. Best of all, it was affordable – only 50 Euros a night for our family of 5. And let me tell you, for Tuscany in June that is a steal. I was getting quotes for over 200 Euros a night pretty much standard for the same area. And did I mention we had our own private POOL??? It was a bit cold for swimming, but we did it anyway.

While I was lounging by the pool, soaking in the views and rejoicing in my good fortune, the kids had swings and other things to play with. We could have stayed forever….

The kids and André spent one whole afternoon playing in the little stream than ran nearby. I couldn’t believe it, but André even got his knees dirty! They eventually managed to divert the stream – (dug a new channel) and it was still that way before we left.

We hung out here all day Monday, Wednesday and part of Friday. We spent the time resting, swimming and sharing the Star Wars trilogy with the kids (the originals, not the newer ones). Griffin was a bit scared but Callie and Zander loved it. We also tried something different with the cooking. I love to eat out, but we really can’t afford it – so we just went out a few times and mostly cooked in the house. This time I did some research and found a site with Italian easy to make recipes using local ingredients. It is located at http://www.slowtrav.com/italy/recipes/jg_cookbook.htm. I made Crema di Pomodora, Fusion Pasta with Gorgonzola and Pecans, Pasta Ispirata da Sicilia, Bistecca con Salsa di Gorgonzola, Sformata di Porri and Fast Grilled Tomatoes (without a grill). Everything was amazing except for the Sformata- that was too much work for the result. It was awesome, like eating out without the cost – the prices at the local town were quite reasonable and I only spent about 100 Euros on groceries. There was so much to do in the area, I really want to return some day and spend 2 or 3 weeks here.

There were lizards…

Some more beauty…. ahh….

Did I mention I want to go back yet? If you want to go check out http://www.lacapannella.com/ and let me know – because we might just tag along….

Full of Bologna!

2010-07-27T21:00:00.001+02:00

June 20, 2010

We ended up leaving Venice around noon, since we had seen what we came for and it was still pouring rain. We decided to head for our villa, and, if it wasn’t raining, maybe stop on the way in Bologna.

Bologna is a large city and supposedly one of the best to live in, in all of Italy. It also holds the oldest university in the western world – the University of Bologna, founded in 1088. I was interested to read that “During the Renaissance, Bologna was the only Italian city that allowed women to excel in any profession. Women there had much more freedom than in other Italian cities; some even had the opportunity to earn a degree at the university.” An enlightened city, to be sure. We had not planned this stop, so we decided to just park near the center and walk around. Unfortunately we misjudged where to park and ended up wandering at least a mile to get to the true center. It was fun though, since the rain had stopped and a new city is always a treat. We observed a church, some neat light fixtures and an enormous door-–who lives here, giants???? They had an incredibly long section of their main street that was covered on both sides with arches and paved with marble. I can see why Italian marble is so famous, it is so beautiful and just about everywhere in this country! You can even see Little Lamb (Callie’s favorite doudou) came along for the sightseeing this time!

Finally we reached the underwhelming main square. I did not like the look of the Piazza Magiorre at all. Sorry city planners, but it needs some serious work. Still, I did love the giant screen TV they had set up in anticipation of the World Cup soccer match. Plus, it did have an incredibly interesting fountain, The Fontana del Nettuno, with lactating mermaids – who were not only squirting ‘milk’ but self expressing it! Totally awesome…. There is a lactating fountain in Besancon as well – must take a photo before we leave!

The main feature of the square, unsurprisingly, was a church. Specifically, it was the San Petronio Basilica and it has got to have the ugliest facade I’ve ever seen. When we first visited, I assumed this mishmash was due to being bombed in WWI and WWII. We had seen things done like that in Dresden and Berlin. But no, it turns out: “The facing of the main facade remains unfinished: many architects were commissioned to propose solutions for it, but a definitive one was never found.” OK, the thing was started in 1390. I know these things take time but 620 years seems like enough to me.

This is an immense church – I realize I say it all the time, but this time – I ain’t kidding! It is actually the fifth largest church in the world and can hold 28,000 people. The Pope actually had to forbid them from making it even bigger. The interior is quite beautiful, but my favorite part was the Cassini Sundial. There was a meridian line stretched all along the left side of the church (in fact, at 66.8 meters, this is the longest sundial in the world and measures precisely 1/600,000th of the circumference of the earth!) There is a beautiful pinhole in the ceiling to let the sun shine down and the marble floor is inlaid with astrological signs. Thanks to this site and flickr for the photos! The man who built it in 1655, Giovanni Domenico Cassini, is a truly great astronomer. He was the first to find Saturn’s moons, her red spot, to accurately measure Mars and the country of France – he even measured the entire solar system accurately. He founded the Paris Observatory and worked for Louis the XIV… And I have ever heard of this guy?! Thank you Cassini!

We headed out, seeing a beautiful little square, some fountains--typical adventure bliss! The kids were in high spirits and started playing ‘I love you’ monsters--see their horns below.

We stopped at an Italian 2 Euro Store so the kids could get some souvenirs (they each had 10 Euros to spend) and had some amazing gelato… at Gelateria Ugo S.R.L. Via San Felice, 24, 40122 Bologna, Italia 051 263849 (in case you ever want to go)‎.

And, I can not leave Bologna without mentioning, well Bologna (as in the lunch meat). I turn to trusty research! It seems that the roots of US bologna come from the traditional sausage invented in Bologna – known as mortadella. This is made in many different styles depending on the region. In the US, our bologna looks different because government regulations require no visible pieces of lard (what a shame!). And, all I could find on the phrase ‘you are full of balogna’ was here. “Etymologists reckon, though none of them seems to be prepared to swear to it, that "baloney" comes from bologna sausage (originally made in, and exported from, Bologna in Central Italy). As Smokey says, that was a cheap food - but also it was made from inferior meat, specifically the meat of elderly bulls that was too tough for any other use. So the meaning "rubbish" is fairly plain.” But the Wiki site doesn’t say anything about using elderly bulls in the meat. So I guess the mystery goes on. Hope you enjoyed!

Burano (Rainbow) Island

2010-07-27T19:16:00.001+02:00

June 20, 2010

The last time André and I came to Venice, we didn’t take the time to go to any of the many islands that surround Venice. Of course, as Wiki reminds me, Venice itself is not just one island but an archipelago connected by bridges– so, in fact, we really had seen lots of islands already!

Nonetheless, this time, I wanted to visit an island that was a bit further away. Since we had already taken the time to see glassblowing the day before, we opted to skip Murano and go straight to Burano. This smaller island in the Venetian lagoon is known for two things: lace and colorful buildings. I told the kids the place had rainbow colored houses and they started calling it Rainbow Island. It was about a 40 minute boat ride to get out there, and we passed the Isle of the Dead on the way. This is the dedicated cemetery for Venetians, created by decree in 1837 to end burials in the city limits. Of course, space is limited so each corpse gets only about a decade of internment before being transferred into a much smaller resting place that can be stacked up – unless you are very rich or famous (of course). I would love to wander around in there another day. The wind was strong on the back deck where we went to hang out and I lost my hat to the lagoon on the way over. It was very interesting to see the many small islands and marsh lands all around in the water and the rain luckily stopped soon before we docked.

What an amazing place. I want to transform Mt. Airy into a rainbow city as well!

We spent a pleasant hour or so wandering around and soaking in the scenery. I can’t really explain how wonderful this place was for Callie and I. We kept seeing new colors and squealing with joy. I had an idiotic grin on my face the entire time we were there. I wrote, a long time ago, that waterfalls make people happy, and that is why we seek them out. What I discovered in Burano was that colors also make people happy – and the town filled me with joy. I also appreciated the size of the place. Venice is so very huge and overwhelming – I always feel like I’m about to get lost. Burano was so accessible and friendly – there was even a wedding going on in the local church

The center had a campanile (or bell tower) that leaned a bit. It made me get excited for our upcoming visit to Pisa.

Whoever made the decision to use these colors was, frankly, a genius. “The colors of the houses follow a specific system originating from the golden age of its development; if someone wishes to paint their home, one must send a request to the government, who will respond by making notice of the certain colors permitted for that lot. This practice has resulted in the myriad of warm, vibrant colors that characterizes the island today.” OK, I admit, it smacks a bit of Big Brother. If I really want a drab house, shouldn’t that be my right? I guess not, if you choose to live in Burano!

We found this plaque that said it all:

Color is like Music

It uses a shorter way to reach our senses and evoke our emotions…

AnnaMaria Gimbal

If I ever become independently wealthy – I may purchase a vacation home here – but only if I am allowed to paint it purple! But hey, why wait? Watch out Gowen Circle – a purple house may be in your future.

Venice – Venezia!

2010-07-22T22:08:00.001+02:00

June 19-20, 2010

Venice, as I’m sure you have heard, is like no place else on earth. When we realized it was a mere 8 hours from our home in Besancon, I knew we had to bring the kids to visit. André and I had been, once before, during our honeymoon over 11 years ago but I was eager to return.

We left on Friday night and slept at a rest stop. Mr. Liberty once again held us all comfortably! I had thought we might stop in Verona (the fair city of Romeo and Juliet) but ultimately we decided to skip it and head straight for Venice. We parked in the nearby mainland town of Mestre (where you can park for 10 Euros a day instead of 30) and took a train into the Floating City. Of course, the first thing we saw were souvenir stands (Man, there are a lot of places that abuse the I love New York logo) but soon enough it was gondolas and canals.

We bought a pass so we could use the water taxis (vaporetti) over the next 2 days and started out exploring the town. Venice is ripe with photographic sights!

We were heading for a local artisan. Of course, Venice is known for its glass and I found, through trip advisor, a local artisan who was on the main island. He made custom items in his shop. I really wanted him to make a gryphon for our Griffin! We had a running email correspondence discussing for about a month before the trip. Unfortunately, he originally created something that was a cross between a dragon and an eagle (so not a gryphon) and the next attempt broke! Mauro was awesome, though, and the kids each requested an animal which he made while we watched. We ended up purchasing the animals and two pendants for me. I wished I had money to buy more – his stuff was incredible. I highly recommend visiting if you are ever lucky enough to be in Venice. You can see some of his work at the following sites http://www.maurovianello.com/ or http://www.youtube.com/user/glasshandmade or http://www.glasshandmade.it/ It was an amazing experience. Thanks Mauro!

Then it was back, wandering through the streets, watching boats squeezing under bridges, enjoying the first of many gelatos, window shopping and heading in the general direction of the Rialto Bridge (photo at top) and St. Mark’s Square.

Being in Venice reminded me a bit of being at Mt. Saint Michel simply because of the sheer number of souvenir shops and tourists. Venice is a city that people come to visit and spend, spend, spend. It was hard to resist! Soon enough we arrived at St. Mark’s Square and the kids were thrilled to see actual evidence of the famous Venetian flooding. They had been very disappointed, up until now, that the streets weren’t simply rivers everywhere we went!

Prepared in rainboots and shorts, they dove right in – inspiring several tourists to snap photos of them splashing about. This seemed strange to me, there are people now, from all over the world, with photos of my kids in Venice…. Slideshow voice intones… “Here we are in St. Marks Square. It was sooo cute, there were even these kids jumping in the water!” Some braver souls even waded in themselves – for long enough to snap a photo, at least!

I was taking these photos, and thinking, as I often do these days, that we were just about the luckiest family in the world…. Then, we just got even luckier as we got the chance to feed the famous St. Mark’s Square pigeons some of the gluten free rice cakes we always have along. I do realize, of course, there are too many pigeon photos – but it was so awesome! The biggest surprise is how soft and gentle their feet feel – like flesh, not hard or pinching.

Soon after this, we had an (unfortunately) unremarkable dinner followed by a train trip back to the mainland. We sprung for a hotel at the last minute since André wasn’t feeling well and headed back, early next morning, for more Venice fun. We love the train, even though it is covered with graffiti. I also noticed some fun Italian Street signs to add to my collection!

We were lucky to be able to visit the interior of St. Marks, with no line.. it is an amazing church and a particularly easy place to notice the way the city is sinking into the sea with its rippled floors and flood stained columns.

The weather on Sunday was terrible – and we ended up getting soaked – and COLD! We took a trip over to Burano (see next blog) and then headed out.

Until next time, Venice – we will miss you!

Chapter 11: The Resolution…

2010-07-17T17:14:00.002+02:00

If this is the first you are seeing of this story - it is best to start by scrolling to the bottom and reading the chapters in order... thank you for reading!

I haven’t written a chapter in this story since May 4th. That is not because nothing has happened since then. It is because I have mostly been waiting around all that time for the miracle to happen – the one where the Prefecture wakes up and gives me the right to work.

The letter from the mayor’s office and the conseil regionale was sent off in the middle of May – and, being me, I decided to follow that up with another visit to the prefecture. I had a copy of the letter that was sent and a letter from my potential employers saying they wanted me. I brought André along for back up. As usual my stomach was in knots waiting for my turn at torture.

This scene features yours truly (R) Andre (A) and Prefecture Employee 1 and 2 (PE1 and PE2)

R: Hello, I recently received a rejection on my change in status, but I have some additions to make to my dossier for reconsideration.

PE1: What?

A: (in better French) She has some additional documents to add to her dossier. She wants you to reconsider her application.

PE1: leaves abruptly to the dreaded ‘back’

PE2 (who is the same person I’ve dealt with before and referred to as HBB): Why are you here?

R: Well, I have some new documents to add to my dossier.

PE2: Didn’t you get your letter? You were rejected!

R: Yes, I know, but I have some new items that might make you reconsider.

PE2: (ripping papers out of my hand) What is this stuff? Why would I want this? Why do you keep bothering us?

R: Well, I still want to work – and so far I haven’t gotten permission.

A: This is a letter from the conseil regional and her potential employer.

PE2: (Throwing the letter back at me) We have this one already, I guess we’ll keep this other thing – your dossier is already being reconsidered.

R: When will I find out?

PE2: Not right away, who knows when. Now leave – and (no, I am not making this up) STOP COMING HERE. Don’t come back again! Don’t bother us again.

R: OK, thank you!

So, that was in May. Towards the end of May and June I got several job offers, which I had to turn down (total bummer). Word on the street was that they were going to approve my request – but who knew when. Meanwhile, we sent an appeal for my driver’s license in to the powers that be. At the same time, André went in to request his French Driver’s License and began looking intensely for a job in Philadelphia for the fall. We had been going a bit back and forth about staying for the third year – we love the amount of family time and travel we can do here – but the red tape and paperwork and hurdles are just too much. Plus, I really miss my mom, my friends and my life in the US. We continued on as if we were going to stay here, signing the kids up for summer camp, (of course, we had to pay double what French citizens would…. ) and telling the kids nothing was certain. During all this time, I am still driving illegally. Then, one fateful day (July 1st in fact) the letter finally came in the mail (see proof left – says they wrote it 23 June – but it didn’t get to me for 8 more days). It said they were granting me the right to work in France (at least until the end of December)! It was like a miracle. I thought I would feel happy, but instead I felt angry. Why now, after I already lost a job I loved? Why now, when it is too late to get a summer spot? Why now, when our minds are turning towards living at home again? We went in the next day to get the official paper – and of course they were closed. I went back the next day and after the typical tortuous waiting and talking to useless intimidating employee of the day HBB came out and (I kid you not) snidely informed me that the machine that makes the document was broken! Yeah right – I saw how pissed HBB was that I finally won – I’m surprised they didn’t tell me it was on vacation – that is a typical French distraction technique. I had to go back a third time before I finally got the goods. I thought, perhaps, I might be able to start collecting some of the benefits that come along with this change in stature – but it turns out that takes about ano ther 6 months… The only good news that occurred during this painful process was that André was able to collect his French Driver’s License. Of course, he rarely drives, but at least when he does it is safe. And hey, we can still dream mine might come through. Again, instead of feeling elated at this ‘win’ for André, I felt angry… too little, too late.

So… that’s it, I guess – I won. I defeated the dreaded French bureaucratic machine – and all in less than 7 months. Why do I feel so bitter? Could it be because all the jobs for the summer are gone? Could it be because I still don’t have a license? Could it be because of all the income I lost? Or, more important than the income, all the opportunities to have fun and make friends? Could it be because the only reason it worked was that a higher power put pressure on? Could it be resentment over all the hours I spent sitting in that office when I could have been blogging?

Frankly, I am done with this shit. I am done with dealing with people who treat me as if I am a completely worthless individual. I am done fighting for things that should be naturally given to me. I am done struggling. I tried to fit in here, I tried to learn the language, the culture- to not be such an American Freak – but I failed. I think I don’t belong here. I feel as if, although I may have won this battle, it is France who won the war. They managed, by treating me so badly, to lose me, which is what they wanted all along. It is strange. Every other time in my life I left something – I felt like there would be people who missed me, who wished I would stay. It’s not to say that we didn’t make friends who will miss us, we did – but I didn’t make a mark here – unless it was by accident. After searching for months, André found a job in Philly that doesn’t require tons of travel. It starts this fall, and we are leaving. Which means I will get to speak English again – almost all the time. And, I am glad… glad Glad, GLAD! I wish I wasn’t so very glad – I feel like I should miss France. Maybe that will come after I’ve been home for awhile. Maybe, once in the US, I will miss it more here. Lord knows I am not the same person I was before I arrived in France – perhaps I will never fit in, anywhere, ever again! (Not that I ever did in the US, not really – but at least I felt needed and wanted there…)

Anyone out there have a great job that includes child care for the last 2 weeks of July and the first 2 weeks of August? I’m legal!

Chapter 10: Neither

2010-07-17T17:10:00.001+02:00

So, while I am still waiting for a reconsideration from the prefecture, life has gone on.

When I was working, that was definitely a ‘gray area’ of legality – but now, the only ‘gray area’ is driving. Of course, I am an honest kind of woman, so I wanted to fix that up as well. I went into the prefecture, armed with the advice from the lawyer we had chatted with. The re-enactment below features me and the Driving Permit Employee (DPE).

Me: Hello, I was recently refused a license exchange and I wanted to talk to you about that.

DPE: Let me see your letter

Me (handing it over): Yes, well, I know it says that I am past the limit of a year, but, in fact, I didn’t even get a car until May of 2009.

DPE: That doesn’t matter.

Me: Also, I was never informed of this law when purchasing the car or insurance

DPE: That doesn’t matter

Me: Also, my husband did not get his valid carte de sejour until July of 2009, so we didn’t know if we could actually stay until then.

DPE: That doesn’t matter

Me: Well, I actually lived in the US an entire month last year – here is my mortgage and electric bills to prove it. Can we date my arrival from then?

DPE: No, that doesn’t matter. All that matters is the effective date on your carte.

Me: Well, what can I do?

DPE: Take the French driving test.

Me: Well, I can’t afford that, are there any programs to help people without income?

DPE: No

Me: Well, I need my car. Even if I do take the exam, it takes about 3 months to prepare. Is there anyway I can get a temporary permit for that time?

DPE: No

Me: Well, then – what is the punishment if I drive around with no official license and I get caught?

DPE (looking shocked): You would lose the right to take the French test.

Me: OK, thank you for your time.

DPE: Goodbye

I left the prefecture, hopped back in the car and reported the bad news to André. He made an appointment for us to see a lawyer the next week. She did some research for us and found out that, although our International Drivers License's are valid anywhere else in the world – they are not valid in France. So, I am officially an outlaw. However, she did give us some good news. First off, she thinks we might have a case to make since André got his carte de sejour so late. He went in and applied for an exchange – they gave him a temporary license that is good for 2 months (or until he, like me, is rejected). For now though, he is legal. She is preparing a letter to argue my case as well. She also informed us (much to my relief) that they can’t go after our money if we do get in an accident. The worst that could happen is our insurance could deny us coverage and then we have to pay back the damage slowly over time. Hmmm…. seems worth the risk to keep driving to me. For all this she charges 200 Euros. Not much in the scheme of things and definitely cheaper than getting a French license – on the other hand – it might not work, and who’s got an extra 200 lying around?

Mr. Liberty (that’s the name of the car) had been acting funny, so I took him into the shop this morning. Turns out he needs a whole new clutch – for a turbo diesel such as him, that costs about 800 Euros. Needless to say – we will be fixing that car – that car we are driving without a license. We can’t sell it with a shot clutch – that’s for sure.

Well, why not just abandon it? Well, because I need it. I need it to go shopping, to take the kids to activities, to go to classes, and I admit this seems most important of all, to continue to go on adventures. André has a 4-day weekend in May and we are planning on visiting Vienna (yes, sleeping in the car again), and we recently found a villa in Tuscany (with a pool) for only 250 Euros for 5 days in June. We spent Sunday visiting a cave, a waterfall and other fun spots local to us. No car, no adventures, nothing to look forward to. I know, I know, I’m a totally selfish pleasure seeker – so sue me.

So, that’s the latest in our saga – this is going to end up being a book….

Chapter 9: What did I do wrong in a former life?

2010-07-17T17:09:00.001+02:00

I haven’t posted any of these chapters, since I don’t want to go to jail or get my nice employers in trouble. But I do want to keep this story going, since, for now, it is pretty much the center of my life.

I worked over spring break about 18 hours per week. I had lots of great classes and fun teaching them. It was a bit of a challenge since the kids were home. I had to bring them in one day to do some prep before class. They had a great time drawing on the giant white board.

And then, all too quickly, I taught my last class. I knew it was time to stop, since I wasn’t getting paid and I didn’t have the right papers, but still, I was sad.

The kids returned to school and I spent the week catching up on blogging and cleaning house! André talked to his bosses at work and they promised to talk to a group of businesspeople who sponsor innovation in the region in hopes that they might help with my status. They also plan on talking to the mayor. I am grateful for the help, but also feel a bit angry about it. I mean, why can’t I get this change on my own merits, why do we have to use André and his special skills for simply humane treatment? On the other hand, I want to work, so I’ll take what I can get. Later in the week, when I returned to the Prefecture, I checked to make sure that they had everything they needed to make the decision on my file. I was informed the letter of decision had already been sent out but they wouldn’t tell me the contents (smart, right?).

I got the letter the next day, and, predictably, the answer was no. It reiterated that I would have to work full time in order for a change in status and, though they understand my wish to be integrated into France, it would be premature to deliver me the carte de la vie privee et familial. On the back is a list of options for appeal. Each one involves resubmitting papers and then waiting 4 months. If you don’t hear back, the answer is another no. I knew this was coming, but the finality of it was heartbreaking. André and his employers still have hope the mayor or innovation people will intervene, but I am not so sure. I officially resigned from ‘volunteering’ at work. So sad.

In other sad news, we went to a lawyer to try to figure out what to do about the no license situation. She was very nice and told us about some loopholes we could pursue. Perhaps, since I spent the month of July in the US last summer, they might consider dating it from then. If the loopholes don’t work – the only other option is to go to court, which would be more expensive than getting a French license and might not succeed.

I want to go to the papers and publicize this entire story. Not only because I am pissed off, but because I think that this injustice should be known to more people. Of course, it is difficult since I don’t want to get my potential employer in trouble OR piss off the prefecture who still has my fate between its hands. I will wait, however impatiently, for now.

Pursuant to all this bad news, André is officially beginning to look for a new job, we may even return to the US earlier than we wanted. Without the opportunity to work or to drive, why bother staying longer?

I wonder what will happen next. Will Chapter 10 be The Miracle or The End???

Chapter 8: Just when you thought it couldn’t get worse….

2010-07-17T16:59:00.001+02:00

So, I have been going into work, teaching merrily away and enjoying every minute of it. I love teaching the new students, who are so nervous. I like to make them laugh and feel comfortable, I often do something stupid (not on purpose, it just comes naturally to me) like dropping my glasses or losing the white board pen and, I think, these foibles make the students realize that no one is perfect. I like to teach the more advanced speakers. They have so many interesting things to say and can tell me all about great restaurants and things to do in the area (ha ha!). I like to play Pictionary and penalize people for chattering in French. I like to learn more about French idioms and the tricks and traps of my own crazy language. I like having a break from my ‘normal’ life of family and kids. I like it, I like it, I like it!

And so, I head for the Prefecture (André with me this time) with my dossier. I am filled with hope that this will work, that they will change my carte and my life can move on as planned. Go to work, take care of the kids, have some extra money….

In fact, things went pretty much as expected when we got to the prefecture. The employee (another new face) asked me in that typically cold and brusque Prefectory way: “A change in status? Why do you want a change in status?” When I explained it was because I wanted to work in France, she immediately looked at me with new eyes and said: “Oh….. you have been here before many times.” I guess I am a topic of conversation around the Prefecture water cooler or something. Yep! That’s me – the thorn in your side! She left abruptly for ‘the back’ and was gone for about 10 minutes. I am wondering if they give classes on this cold behavior in their training program. You know, like show them sad movies like Steel Magnolias or maybe those “save the children” pictures of starving kids in Africa. They need to watch these tear jerkers and show absolutely no emotion. They probably do role plays where their partner is pretending to be a poor crying immigrant with a sad tale of woe. When they feel themselves weakening they can practice the abrupt, wordless departure to ‘the back’. Probably there is also a workbook to help them learn helpful phrases designed to intimidate – tone is as important as word choice here. “And why do you want to work?” “Maybe you should just go back home” “You know, you are only supposed to be a visitor!” “That can’t be true, Americans are all rich!” “Who told you that?” “I never said that!” etc… etc…

I know I have mentioned it before, but going to the Prefecture makes me feel physically ill. The entire process is designed to discourage and intimidate me. As my loyal readers know, I am never one to give up or back down easily – also, I tend to have great suspicion and often disrespect for authority. You would think this would make this fight easy for me, maybe I would even relish it. Frankly, that’s not true. Even I don’t want to go to that place. It is only my determination to work and get a fair shot that keeps on driving me. I can’t imagine how some immigrant who is truly an undereducated or just plain shy person could find the strength and courage to deal with this ridiculous and unfair French system!

Lest you think this is only me this is happening to, I have a few stories to tell. I told my ASEP class all about this and one person said a very similar thing had happened to him. He had a 3 month work permit that was set to expire. He went to the prefecture to see about extending it and they told him to just bring in a new contract and they would renew (sound familiar?). He did exactly what they asked and they refused the extension. Of course, that’s after he already promised his employer he would work additional time.

And, less directly related to me but still in the ‘abuse to immigrants’ column, are the horror stories I hear about the prefecture all the time while at ASEP with my international counterparts. If you are a political refugee, you have to prove why you shouldn’t be sent back to your own country. They ask questions like: “Why did you leave your country?” “What was so terrible there?” You also are required to prove what value you can bring to France. Questions here include: “Why should we let you stay here?” “What value can you bring to France?” “What have you done to integrate into our society?” You are also required, very quickly, to learn to speak and write French and even know things about popular culture. One person came into class very upset after the prefecture called her in suddenly. (They can do this, at any moment, with no warning) Apparently, she was doing well until asked to name 5 famous French actors. She choked and, as a consequence, she is on probation and may be sent back to where her abusive husband will likely kill her. All that, for the want of a movie star’s name. Frankly, I couldn’t name 5 famous French actors if my life depended on it either. I’m just lucky it doesn’t.

I am not a political refugee. I am a visitor. But is this how you treat your visitors? I guess us Americans are so rich and privileged we should have lawyers that take care of all these details for us, or maybe even slaves. I guess, since André was slated to work for a French company, they cared a bit more about integrating him. He was required to attend two days of integration training (blogged about here and here) where he was placed in a room with lots of other immigrants and told lots of things, including how France was actually where the first car was invented. I was not invited to these titillating events. I am only a visitor. I tried to go with him for the first one and got kicked out. He was told things like “You have the same rights as a French citizen.” Hmm…. yeah, except for the right to vote, to drive, to have my wife work, to receive government benefits for my children….” Did they tell him how to change the status of a carte de sejour? No. Did they help him understand how to fill out our pharmacy reimbursement receipts? No. (We lost over 100 Euros in reimbursements since we didn’t know we had to keep a sticker off the boxes of medicine – apparently the receipt is not enough in this world) Did they tell us we had to change our US driver’s license to a French one within a year of arrival or face breaking the law? No. How about how to navigate the French school system or culture? No…. Was there anything useful at all? Not really….

But, back again to my own private hell at the prefecture. As you may recall, we went in to drop off my dossier. The employee returned from ‘the back’, took the rest of my papers and told me I’d hear from them by mail. How long it would take was never mentioned by her, and I didn’t ask. This was since, we were told through the grapevine, that pisses them off and makes the process even slower. Nice, right? Once again, my fate is in the hands of the prefecture – and who knows how slowly the wheels of justice will grind this time. I hate waiting….

When I got home, there was a ring at the doorbell. It was, supposedly, my French driver’s license (Hooray!). I opened up the packet and, lo and behold, my US license fell into my lap. Yep, you’ve guessed it. They have rejected my application to get a French license because I didn’t do it within one year of arrival in the country. Of course, I still have the temporary license they gave me which is valid for the next two months and my valid international drivers license, but is that enough? We fear that this means I am actually will be unable to drive after the temporary license runs out (in two months) and, frankly, life here is not worth living without Mr. Liberty. The fact I might have been driving illegally at the beginning of the year is moot – I didn’t know I was driving illegally back then.

Well, you might think, just go get a new license! Ha, ha! This is no piece of cake in France. You have to take driving lessons (like 20) and also a course and it takes months – and it is all in French and very difficult and it costs about 1000 Euros. Needless to say, we don’t have a spare 1000 Euros hanging around, even if I had the time to take these courses or the desire to do so.

Without Mr. Liberty I can’t work, I can’t take the kids to therapy, GRS or theatre, I can’t go shopping easily, I can’t take my French language lessons at ASEP. Those are just daily realities. And how about the fact that we plan on many more little adventures, practically every weekend between now and… hmmmmm…. FOREVER!!!! How can I go to Dole or Dijon, the southern coast of France and whatever else might come our way? The life I lead now is centered around a car. HELP!!!!

For the first time, I am feeling what I think is despair. If I can’t drive and I can’t work – how can I continue to live here???? I realize I did just that the first 9 months or so – but those were what I think of as ‘the dark times’. Now I am stepping into the light, trying to fly. If only the system here would stop trying to clip my wings…. I just feel so unwelcome!!! Grr…..

Bellyaching and Blathering and Blundering onward in Besancon but who knows for how much longer….. next update when I learn more about either the license or my carte… I’m sure the saga will continue – whether I like it or not!

Chapter 7: The Dossier

2010-07-17T16:57:00.001+02:00

I continue to soldier on through each working day. I am being paid for 13 hours per week and am actually working about 16 since, as a new teacher, I have to spend a lot of time doing prep work for new lessons. Of course that doesn’t count the hours I have spent doing paperwork, etc… because of this mess at the prefecture. The management at is being very supportive and plans to write a letter to the prefecture about why they have hired me. They have also decided that, if nothing changes, I will stop being scheduled to teach on April 16th. I think it is the only choice they can make, since they can’t pay me, but it still makes me so sad. I feel awful for agreeing to work for them and then having this happen. Of course, I didn’t know I was being lied to, but I still feel guilty. By then, I will have been employed for 5 weeks, have taught about 40 classes to over 100 different individuals. I will have spent about 70 hours working and should have earned (after you take out taxes and the 200 Euros or so it cost me to just do all this crazy paperwork) maybe 350 Euros. OK, it’s not much – but it would have paid for one long weekend away…. sigh…..

I haven’t completely lost hope, I am still working on my last ditch effort to be considered for a change in status to private family life. I have spent hours compiling a ridiculously huge amount of paper to prove to the prefecture that they should let me work in France. I have also carefully crafted a letter that pleads for a positive resolution.

Papers include the copies of the following….

General information about me:

Passport
Carte de Sejour
Carte Vital (Health Insurance Card)

To show I am serious about staying:

My work contract
My temporary license
André’s paystub
André’s work contract
Our lease

On the kids:

Lunch program bill
Report Cards for all 3 kids

To show I am spending lots of money here:

Phone Bill
Rent Bill
Electric Bill

To show how French I am:

Copy of the recent newspaper article featuring me and my blog
Copy of part of the weekly blog report that shows I have about 100 French readers weekly.

To show I am giving back to French society:

Tithing receipts totaling over 7000 Euros we have given to French charities since arrival in Besancon.

All this is supposed to show how I have become a vital and integral part of French society. There will also be a cover letter making my case. I find it amusing how hard it was to craft this.

Here was my first attempt (deemed too chatty by WSE management):

To whom it may concern:
I am writing this letter to request a change in status for my carte de sejour.
Currently, I have visitor status and I would like to request a change to salary or private family life.
My family and I chose to come to France voluntarily. As a highly specialized and skilled professional with an
international reputation, my husband can find a job in almost any location. We wanted to experience life
in a foreign culture and France seemed like the natural choice.
Although he received interest from all over France, we focused on the jobs offered outside of Paris. They paid
less but we were eager not to just be tourists here, but rather to become an integrated part of our new community. We have been thrilled to become a part of life in Besancon.
Although neither I nor my children spoke French before we came, we relished the chance to become bilingual.
We chose to send all 3 children to our local public school. After a natural period of adjustment, they have now
integrated into their new life. They are fluent in French, take part in extracurricular activities such as rhythmic
gymnastics and theatre, and often have their new friends over to play. Their favorite cheese is Comte (but only if
is is aged 18 months) and their favorite dinner is raclette. As soon as my youngest child was in school full time
starting this fall I began taking French classes 3 days a week. I also volunteer at my local community center to
help adults who would like to improve their English. I chaperone field trips for my children on a regular basis
and enjoy helping the teenagers in our neighborhood chat in English.
Another way we have embraced French life is by experiencing as much of it as we can.
We have made quite a few major trips ranging over Europe, but, for the most part, we stick closer to home.
Every weekend we try to find something interesting to do. Just since September we have had adventures to
Mount Bart, Baume les Dames, Le Saut de Doubs, Grottes St. Leonard, Chailluz, Grapille, Chateau Vaire-le-Grand and the Museum de Maison Comtoises - all in the Franche Comte! Of course we have also participated in the life around Besancon by doing things like joining the rubber ducky race down the Doubs, attending carnival and going regularly to traditional French folk dances held in a nearby Maison de Quartier or the spectacles shown in our own. We recently attended a talk at the Chalezeule library featuring an Auschwitz Holocaust survivor. I pore the BVV and Vue du Doubs each month to see if there is a fromagerie we can visit, a talk or walk that my family might enjoy. I try a new French recipe every week and love to spend time at my local bakery. We are living the French lifestyle to the fullest extent possible.
My wish, now that my children are in school and I am better able to communicate, is to integrate even further into
French society and life by working in a French company. Working in a French office and meeting French clients is another window into my new world and I feel I can really help people improve their skills, if only given the chance.
I actually have qualified for work and am currently volunteering for them in hopes of a status change. I love my new occupation, but, of course, I would like to receive reimbursement.
Currently, with my status of visitor, receiving a salary is forbidden, but I hope that you will consider changing the
status of my card.
Living in France has given me so much, and I want to give back as much as I can. All I am asking is for the opportunity to do so.
Thank you for your help,
Rebecca Dhondt
sistersrule60@hotmail.com
06 72 08 84 11

Then I moved on to this (approved by WSE management):

To whom it may concern:

My name is Rebecca Dhondt and I have lived in France with my husband and children for the past 18 months.

My husband works, full time, at SmartTesting located in the Temis center.

I am writing to request a change in status on my carte. I would like either a change to salarie or private family
life in order to be employed. I was recently informed by Dominique Jon, the chef de bureau, that carte de sejour
salarie can only be granted if the person were to work full time. As the mother of three small children, full time
work is not an option at this time. I have currently found part-time employment at a local school that teaches English.

Working part-time will allow me to further integrate into French society and leave me the time to continue
my local volunteer efforts and to care for my children. I therefore believe that I need a change in status to vie
de privee.

The following documents are attached to help assist in the decision:

The first folder contains general information about me and my family. I have included copies of my passport,
my current carte de sejour, my husband's work contract, my work contract (currently on hold) and my cv. I have
also included a copy of my carte vital, certificate de controle medical, proof of insurance and my French drivers
license.

The second folder proves our financial life is in France. There is a copy of our lease and my husband's bulletin
de salarie. I have also included copies of our phone, rent, electric and school lunch bills.

The third folder includes our charity reciepts. We donate 10% our our pretax income to charity each month. To date
the amount of money we have donated to French charity totals over 7000 Euros. If allowed to work, I will be
donating 10% of my pre-tax income as well.

The fourth folder contains a few items to demonstrate how I have integrated into French society. There is a letter,
written by my potential employer, explaining why they would like to hire me. It also includes copies of the public
school report cards for my children, a newspaper article and some information concerning my blog. We have been on
television twice and in the newspapers three times since our arrival in Besancon. I have included a copy of the
most recent newspaper article discussing me and my blog as well as a page from my analytics report. This report
shows, on a weekly basis, who visits my website to read about my life here in Besancon. On a typical week, I get
over a hundred French readers who each spend 5 to 10 minutes on the site. I have also included copies of the
most recent pages published in the blog so you can get an idea of the subject matter.

As the above records show, my family and I are living the French lifestyle to the fullest extent possible.
My wish, now that my children are in school and I am better able to communicate, is to integrate even further
into French society and life by working in a French company. I am currently volunteering for my, in hopes of a status change.

I love my new vocation, but, of course, I would like to receive
reimbursement. I hope you can facilitate the change in status as rapidly as possible so I can begin to do so.
I can be reached by email or phone at the information above.

Thank you for your help,

Rebecca Dhondt

Now I only needed to have it translated into French, right? André, as always my hero, and one of his co-workers Christophe(thank you!) worked together to transform the note into something the French would accept. Here it is in French (and then English):

Préfecture du Doubs

Sujet: demande de modification de carte de séjour

Monsieur le Préfet,

Suite à notre arrivée en France, il y a 18 mois, je suis détentrice d'une carte de séjour française de type "visiteur". Mon époux, M. D. André Dhondt, travaille à temps plein au sein de la société bisontine Smartesting. Nos trois enfants sont également scolarisés à Besançon.

J'ai prochainement l'intention d'occuper un emploi à temps partiel. Pour cela, je vous sollicite afin de bien vouloir reconsidérer le statut de ma carte de séjour en "vie privée et familiale".

En effet, j'ai récemment contacté Madame Dominique Jon qui m'a indiqué que le statut "salarié" était uniquement valable pour les salariés à temps plein.

Dans ce sens, je souhaite également vous informer que j'ai signé un contrat de travail, à durée déterminé, à temps partiel, avec la société, à Besançon (cf. copie du contrat de travail et attestation de l'employeur ci-joint).

Vous trouverez également ci-joint un ensemble de documents démontrant la volonté de ma famille de s'intégrer quotidiennement au sein de la société française.

Le premier dossier concerne ma situation familiale. Vous y trouverez une copie de mon passeport, de ma carte de séjour, de mon C.V. ainsi que du contrat de travail de mon époux. Je vous adresse également une copie de ma carte vitale et de mon permis de conduire français.

Dans le deuxième dossier, vous trouverez un ensemble de factures et de dons (E.D.F, téléphone, bail locatif, etc.) attestant de notre vie quotidienne en France.

Vous trouverez enfin dans le troisième dossier un ensemble de documents montrant notre implication personnelle dans la vie socio-culturelle française (articles de journaux, bulletins scolaires de mes enfants, etc.) depuis notre arrivée à Besançon. Je me suis également permise d'ajouter un rapport d'activité de mon blog personnel, qui relate la vie quotidienne de ma famille à Besançon.

J'espère que ces informations vous permettront d'évaluer ma requête et je reste à votre disposition pour tous renseignements supplémentaires me concernant ou concernant ma famille.

Dans l'attente, je vous prie d'agréer, Monsieur, mes respectueuses salutations.

Rebecca Dhondt

Ha ha… and that means…

Doubs Prefecture
Subject: Request for change of residence permit
Mr. Prefect
Following our arrival in France, 18 months ago, I received a French residence permit type "visitor". My husband, Mr. D. Andre Dhondt, works full time in the company Smartesting Besancon. Our three children are also enrolled in Besancon schools.
I soon intend to be employed part time. For this, I solicit you to kindly reconsider the status of my residence permit to read "private and family life”.
In fact, I recently contacted Mrs. Dominique Jon who told me that the status of "employee" was only valid for full-time employees.
Furthermore, I wish to inform you that I signed a contract of employment, fixed term, part-time, (see copy of employment contract and employer's certificate attached).
You will also find attached a set of documents demonstrating the desire of my family to integrate into French society.
The first folder concerns my family situation. You'll find a copy of my passport, my residence card, my CV and the contract of my husband. I also include a copy of my health insurance card and my French driving license.
In the second folder, you will find a set of bills and donations (electricity, phone, rental agreement, etc..) confirming our daily life in France.
You finally will find a folder with a third set of documents showing our personal involvement in socio-cultural French (newspaper articles, report cards from my children, etc..) Since our arrival in Besançon, I have kept a progress report on my personal blog, which chronicles the daily lives of my family in Besançon.
I hope this information will enable you to evaluate my request and I remain at your disposal for any further information about me or about my family.
In the meantime, please accept, Sir, my respectful greetings.

Rebecca Dhondt

Not much like the original, right? (maybe I should have used your excellency?) We were told mentioning money would sound like a bribe… and lots of other things needed to be cut out (duplication especially)! Oh well, no matter… I’ll just bring it on in to the prefecture. Perhaps fodder for Chapter 8.

Working in France…. Chapter 6: I refuse to accept this

2010-07-17T16:56:00.001+02:00

So, once again utterly depressed, I head for work.

I teach two really fun classes and then have a meeting with my manager, who says I am doing pretty well but I need to teach with a quieter voice. Me, loud???? You are shocked, right? I am very worried about my ability to tone it down – but promise to try.

Then, I explain the whole tale of woe, apologizing profusely the whole time and saying I didn’t know that the meeting was going to work out that way. I hadn’t even thought there was going to be a meeting today about all this. I thought it was just a minor misunderstanding, no big deal and it would just take some time. I mean, isn’t that the way things work in France (and with red tape everywhere)?

I told her I really liked the job and was excited to do it and also that I would be glad to stay on and work for free for as long as she needed to find and train a replacement. I would never walk out or leave her in a lurch, even if I’m not getting paid!

She seemed relieved that I wasn’t deserting her but also said she refused to accept the decision. She said the new plan was to get my carte changed for la vie famille and make a huge case for why this would work. She says we are going to ‘drown them in paper’. Show them how much I am integrated into French life and how vital I am to society. She says I am getting the runaround and we will fight this.

She said “Look, I need you! I don’t have anybody else. And you should get paid for your work.”

So, for now, things are still, I guess. in limbo. Sorry for the exhaustive detail – I hope it wasn’t too boring. I continue to teach. I guess I am going to prepare a dossier to show what an upstanding part of French society I am (should have done that instead of blogging, right?). I will keep on fighting, hoping and living until the next rejection comes along. Or until we have success. I am already considering contacting the newspaper to have them write a story about all this rigmarole if it doesn’t work out. Maybe there could be a greve – just for me.

Yes she can! Yes she can! Yes she can!

Working in France… Chapter 5: Is this the end?

2010-07-17T16:54:00.001+02:00

You know, I hate being made to feel like a criminal. Whenever I am at the Prefecture, I feel, quite literally, sick with fear. My stomach rolls and my head spins. These people hold your life between their ink-stained fingers, and they couldn’t care less who you are. You are a number, you are a form, you are nothing.

So, it is with trepidation, that I ask for help.

In this scene, we have HBB3 (for the new face behind the desk), R (that’s Rebecca) and CDB (chef de bureau – the person who decides my fate).

HBB3 (angrily): Where did you get this number?

R: Someone here gave it to me.

HBB3: Who? You shouldn’t have this! Who gave this to you?

(If you’ve forgotten, you are not even allowed to know the names of these people)

R: I don’t know, the person who was here the last time I was here. She said I should make an appointment with this person to review the status of my carte de sejour. I have been calling for a week and a half and I can’t even leave a message. Is it possible for me to get another number, or maybe make an appointment here?

HBB3: You wait here! (storms off angrily to the ‘back’)

After a few minutes of waiting, the door re-opens and HBB3 is joined by another member of the staff.

R: Hello, I was here to try to meet with the…..

CDB (interrupting): Yes, that’s me.

R: Oh! Well I have been trying to phone you but I’ve been unable to get through.

CDB: Well, that’s because I’m never at my office.

R: Is it possible for me to set up an appointment with you?

CDB: Well, I have already talked to someone about your situation and I would like to talk to you, if you have time.

R (practically squeaking in terror): You mean, like, right now???

CDB: Yes (ominously), now…

As you can imagine, I was not prepared for this. I was supposed to have back up this time, I was supposed to have greased wheels, I was supposed to have rehearsed! She led me into a very fancy conference room and sat down with me, giving me her undivided attention.

I launched into my spiel and managed to tell the whole thing calmly, without crying and, naturally, all in French. You know, writing this story has made me realize something. I really am learning to speak French. I can actually communicate in a foreign tongue. I don’t get hardly as many mystified looks as I used to and people tell me they can understand what I say. You’d think this moment of truth would be somewhat triumphant for me. Unfortunately, I have simultaneously realized something else. I don’t like speaking in French! I think, at this point, I feel the same about speaking French that I do about riding a bicycle. Yes, I can do it, but not very well. I’m always afraid of falling and would prefer just about any other activity. But, I am learning to be more comfortable on the bike, and perhaps, someday, I will even enjoy it. So, may it be with French as well.

But, back to my own private hell. During the story, she listened quite respectfully and attentively, without interrupting. Besides the story you all know from earlier chapters I also explained I wasn’t taking a job from a French person. In fact, only English speaking people are even allowed to teach at schools that teach English. I also promised not to apply for CAF or unemployment. I tried to stress that I just was asking for the opportunity to work. She then asked me several questions which I answered. After I answered all the questions and she learned more about me she gave me the bad news.

She explained that, to change my status, I would need at least a six month contract and to work full time. She told me to come back in September, with a 6 month contract of that nature, and try again. I explained that I needed to work now and also that I couldn’t possibly work full time with 3 small children for several years! She said, again, that this was the rule of the land and maybe, if I stayed 7 years to become a French citizen, then I would be allowed to work part time.

I had been very proud of myself and how calm and reasonable I was remaining during this impromptu interview. This point is where I lost it a bit.

R: So, I’m supposed to just hang out for 7 years? I can’t work at all until I can work full time? I think this law is not fair!

CDB: Why?

R: It is discriminatory and, in fact, I think, misogynistic!

CDB: No, this is not because you are a woman.

R (a bit teary): Obviously it is. If I was not a woman with 3 small children this would be a full time contract, for a longer amount of time. The only reason I am not receiving a change in status is because I am a woman with children. It is obvious. It is unfair.

I recovered quickly but started internally kicking myself for losing my cool. But, for whatever reason, this argument struck a chord with her. She kind of changed her ‘pity’ look into a look of thoughtful consideration and told me she was going to go and talk to a colleague and get back to me in a few minutes. She led me out of the room and asked me to wait.

Naturally, I immediately called André to tell him what was going on and that I was totally freaking out. He reassured me and told me that if I thought she was on my side but couldn’t change my carte legally to salarie, that I could request a change to the private family life. Such a change is always within the discretion of the prefecture.

She returned within a few more minutes. She told me she had looked up André’s carte to see why we didn’t get CAF money. In France, for an individual, you make about 1000 Euros per month if you work for minimum wage. It turns out that since non-citizen André makes more than 3 times that, he has an ‘elevated’ salary and does not qualify for any benefits. The fact he doesn’t qualify for any normal French societal benefits, supports four other people, taxes take over 1000 a month and our rent alone is 750 Euros monthly has absolutely no impact on this status.

I think, looking at this status of elevated made her angry – like the other woman who said: “All Americans are rich” She thinks I don’t need to work and why should I get the chance? It’s frustrating since I told her, right off the bat that I didn’t need this job to survive. I had told her it was not for money to live, but for the little extras that we thought CAF would cover. It was for me to be challenged, for me to have a chance to help people, to socialize with other adults, and, of course, to earn some money for camp and activities over the summer.

She briskly walked over to me, and before I could get a word out, brusquely informed me my request was denied.

CDB: I looked up your husband’s status and I see that he is elevated. That’s why he doesn’t qualify for benefits. I cannot renew you for this right now.

R: But I can still return in September with a 6 month contract?

CDB: When I went back there, I looked up the law again and, unless you are working full time, and making over 1000 Euros a month, I can’t help you at all. That’s the law

(Number one regret here- I should have asked her for a copy of this so-called law. Other note here, from my friend Adeline. This whole policy makes no sense – on the one hand they don’t want me to work so I don’t take jobs from French people but, on the other hand, they won’t change my status unless I really am taking a full time real job anyway!)

R: Can you change my status to vie de famille?

CDB: No….

She explained that I could try to apply for this but I would get rejected. That is because they only take people who want to remain in France permanently and have already lived here for several years.

CDB: Do you plan on living here forever?

R: Well, I love France but we can’t live here if I’m not allowed to work for the next 7 years!

CDB: Yeah, you should just go home.

R: Thank you for giving up so much of your time.

She told me to renew my carte as a visitor and walked away.

So, that’s it. No working for me…. I may be qualified, I may need the money… I’m not taking any jobs from any French people… All that is irrelevant, because France just doesn’t want me.

And now I am due at work! Luckily (?) for me this is the day of the week that my manager is in the office. Time to ‘fess up.

Working in France … Chapter 4: A New Hope

2010-07-17T16:50:00.001+02:00

So, I leave the prefecture. I trudge along the sidewalk, dreams of enlightening the French population with my wisdom, shattered.

Then I talk to my husband, who (as usual) makes several excellent points.

They didn’t absolutely say no
It took 11 months for his carte to be finalized and he worked (and was paid) that whole time
This is all hookey, they are not in charge and the head of the bureau will make the decision

He tells me to stop panicking and go to work. I wrote my job telling them my carte was going to take some time to process and started working. I figured the worst case scenario would be I ultimately get rejected and then I just give them their money back and say I volunteered. At least I’d get some experience on my resume and maybe it would all work out. I spent the first few days learning about theory and observing the other teachers. Teachers are only qualified if English is their mother tongue. There are 2 teachers besides me, one from England and one from Canada. Everyone is very friendly and, the work seemed (at least from observation) do-able.

Then I started actually teaching. My first lesson was observed and I guess I passed because, since then, I have taught 10 classes. They usually have 2 or 3 people in each class. The way it works is that they listen and read and study a specific topic and then they come in to meet with a teacher and practice what they have learned. I help them and also evaluate if they have understood the lesson.

I am working during lunchtimes and the early evenings about half the days so André is picking up some of the slack for me. The kids seem to be adjusting OK to the new regimen, but it is really too soon to tell. I am definitely in flux at the moment and I do miss seeing the kids and André when I’m not there for dinner.

I really like the work though. I get to meet lots of interesting people. I get to talk (although I try to mostly make them talk). I am getting an appreciation of how difficult it is to learn English and feel a bit less stupid about my inability to master French. Best of all, I get to be my overly dramatic story telling self to a little audience! And they laugh!!! I have always made people laugh (until I was in Besancon, at least) and I am loving, loving, loving, loving, that aspect of the job.

Of course, I have been worrying the whole time about the prefecture situation. I got the number and began calling for an appointment the first Monday she was supposed to return. All I got was a machine with no ability to leave a message. I kept calling all week and got nowhere. In the meanwhile I was pursuing changing my license over which involved getting an official French translation of my US license done by an authorized professional. This took some time to procure. I talked with André and a friend of mine who promised me they would come with me for my meeting. There were two good reasons for this. First, they speak French much better than I do and secondly, they are not likely to start crying all over the place (never helpful in my French experience). Also we are going to once again try to grease the wheels of justice before the appointment. Things would all be well, I was sure of it!

When my calls just wouldn’t go though, I figured I might have misunderstood the directions and the head of the bureau was probably still on vacation. So I called again the next week and finally, on Thursday, headed back to the office to try to exchange the license and also get an appointment.

I skated right through the hazards of getting a new license, the man in charge of the forms took my US license (yep, gone forever) and told me I’d get a new one in only a few weeks. For once, something is easy. It’s kind of ironic that this, which, admittedly, I did wrong, is easy, but the thing I am trying to do everything right on is not.

I headed over to the other desk, and explained (to yet another new face) that I needed a different number since this one didn’t seem to be working.

And that’s when things started, yet again, to go terribly wrong.

Working in France… Chapter 3: The Prefecture Strikes Back

2010-07-17T16:49:00.001+02:00

Off I went, contract in hand, on my merry way to the prefecture.

I actually had 2 pieces of business to attend to. The first was the obviously minor detail of getting my carte changed. The person that knows the other person at André’s work was informed I was going in for the change – and, of course, I had the word of the employee from last time, so the wheels should have been good and greasy.

The other had me a bit more worried. One of my interviewers had informed me that, in fact, I was driving illegally! Turns out that, once you have lived in France for over one year, you have to change your license to a French license. If you do not do this, you are not legal. I quickly renewed my international permit and started to research.

Turns out that getting a license in France is no small matter. It generally costs about 1000 Euros. The only chance you have to escape this exorbitant fee is to exchange the license you have from another country to a French license. The catch here is two-fold. Firstly, you have to do it within the first year you are in the country (whoops!). Secondly, you have to belong to a country or (in the case of the US) a state that has a reciprocity agreement with France making such exchanges legal. It turns out that only 14 of our 50 great states have made such agreements. Thank the heavens, it turns out that Pennsylvania is one of them. I still needed to get the paperwork to make the switch, which wasn’t too difficult to procure and I was hoping the fact that the one year time limit had long expired could be overlooked.

So, first bureaucratic form in hand, I headed over to the prefecture desk.

Just a note on the prefecture here. You never see the same employee twice and you never get names of who you have spoken to in the past. I’m a bit surprised they don’t all wear masks. They are a nameless, faceless bureaucracy. It’s probably for their own protection – what a detestable profession.

So, there I was handing my contract over to another unsmiling employee. I requested she change the status of my carte saying something like…. “I have brought in my contract for work so you can change my carte de sejour.” Smile and acquiesce, right? Not so much. Her first reaction was pure shock. This was quickly followed by automatic rejection. Undaunted, I persisted, insisting that I had an agreement with the employee from the last time and she should just check my file. She kept reminding me that I was a visitor – and that was that! I tried name dropping the contact that I knew about, but got nowhere. Various back and forths ensued and, ultimately, she disappeared into the dreaded ‘back’. She returned about 10 minutes later with the person I had spoken to during my last visit. She looked at me as if I was some sort of infectious disease and gingerly picked up my contract, as if it might be covered in slime.

She glanced down and then informed me that she had never said that I could change my status. At this point, my confidence started to weaken. I reacted with surprise and reminded her that she told me all I needed was a contract. She glanced down again and informed me that I would have to have signed up to work for at least 6 months in order to qualify. (You see, I am not sure if I will be able to work over the summer, so I only agreed to work for them until the end of June – i.e. 4 months). Thinking fast, I offered to go back to and get a 6 month contract.

Keep in mind through all this I am speaking in my far-less than perfect French. I will now attempt to recreate the scene (although I certainly wasn’t as eloquent in French). I am R (for Rebecca) and she will be HBB (for heartless bureaucratic bitch). HBB2 will represent the other employee who didn’t talk much. Feel free to act this out with any person who might be hanging out near the computer….

R: Oh, 6 months? I can go back to my employer and ask that they change the contract, ok?

HBB: No, that won’t work

R: Um… maybe I don’t understand. I thought you just said that it would work if it was for 6 months?

(At this point HBB actually looks down at the contract and reads it a bit)

HBB (in shocked tones): What? This is only for 13 hours per week? (shaking head) No, No, no, no absolutely not, this can not be done.

R: But, I don’t understand. You said to bring a contract, and here it is. I promised these people I would work!

HBB: Look, I can only grant a change in status if you have a full time contract and it should be for an undetermined time. This is not going to happen.

R (starting to lose composure): But, I can’t work full time. I have 3 little kids!

HBB2 (butting in): So, why do you want to work anyway?

R (losing it further): Well, I need money!

HBB: Then why are you here as a visitor?

R (now over the deep end): Look, before we got here they told us we would have CAF money and we don’t. We had savings that we were using and now they are gone. (starts to sob) Spring is coming, my kids need new clothes, they wanted to go to camp this summer. (wailing now) I don’t understand!!!

HBB2: That can’t be true, you are an American. They are all rich.

R (still crying): Look, what am I supposed to do? I promised these people I would work for them. I signed a contract. I start tomorrow!!! This guy (desperate now and again name dropping) Mr. X, told us that we could do this.

HBB: Who? Who is this Mr. X anyway???

R: I don’t know, someone who works here that gave us information about all this stuff.

HBB2: I have never heard of this person. I don’t know who he is. He doesn’t know how things work around here.

R: But I need to work tomorrow!

HBB: Tomorrow? This will take months to clear anyway.

R: But I said that when I was here the last time and you assured me that all I needed was this contract. I promised!

(At this point I am not really sobbing but just sort of snuffling and doing gross stuff like wiping snot on my sleeve. HBB and HBB2, unmoved, look at me as if I am vomit upon their shoes.)

HBB2: You need to go, other people are waiting.

R (rallying a bit): I’m not going anywhere. You need to renew this carte!

HBB (probably realizing I wasn’t going to go quietly): Look, it is not even my decision.

R: Is there someone else I can talk to?

HBB (reluctantly): Yes, we will leave your carte as pending for now. It will take time to change no matter what. You will have to talk to the head of the office. She is on vacation this week, but you can call her next week.

I leave the desk. I call André immediately and start sobbing over the phone to him about everything. I think, until that moment, I didn’t realize how much I really wanted this job. I mean, we can survive if I don’t work. I haven’t worked for a long time and I think (since I don’t have the most confidence in the world) that I told myself that it didn’t really matter whether I worked or not.

But it does matter. It matters more than I ever imagined and I was utterly, utterly, crushed.

And how in the world am I supposed to do now?

Working in France…. Chapter 2: The Search

2010-07-17T16:48:00.003+02:00

So, I had been working hard on my French skills since September and I was ready to take the plunge. I had heard, over and over, from my ASEP teachers that I wasn’t ready yet – my French was just too weak. I decided that I would give it a try, and, if I failed, I could always try again later. They seemed a bit mystified by this attitude. André thinks they try to discourage me since, if I achieve my goals, they will be out of a job. (I am one of the only two people in the class, and they are telling the other guy to go for his PhD).

The day I met with the prefecture, the wait to apply was over. I started dropping off resumes the same afternoon. I figured that with the French I had now, I would be competent enough to teach English, at the very least – so I would start there. The next day I researched to find other local places teaching English and sent out more resumes. I heard back from three establishments within a day or two. They wanted to interview me as soon as possible.

To say I was scared would be a major understatement. The last paying job I had before children began the summer of my junior year in college. So that meant I hadn’t interviewed in any capacity at all for about 13 years. Plus, I’m in France, and they’ll want me to speak in French….when I am nervous. This is not good.

I had my first interview only a few days after I sent them my resume. I practiced answering in French and was terribly nervous that I would make a fool of myself. I got to the interview, and, to my great relief, he wanted me to speak in English! So, that worked out well. The first establishment had been experiencing some staff turnover recently and was actually hoping to train me and hire me as a staff teacher starting in the fall, with an eye towards me becoming full time when my children got older. When I explained that I would probably not be living permanently in France, he was very disappointed. It turned out the thing he was most attracted to in my resume was my ‘obvious maturity’. I just about fell out of my chair laughing when he told me that. Mature??? Me???? “Well,” he went on, “You are married, you have children, you are settled in your life. Usually I only get applicants from young students. I have read your blog and it’s obvious you can write and you can think. This is the kind of person I need.” Very flattering, I would say, but not a source of immediate income.

The next week I flew home to visit Mom, postponing my other interviews.

I went to my ‘goals’ class and told the teachers I had already scored 3 interviews and had another upcoming. I also told them no one had asked for my diploma (which they insisted I would need) and lack of French wasn’t a problem. In fact, I was a bit angry that they had been holding me back for so long when, obviously, the world was my oyster! Their response was lukewarm congratulations and a disparaging statements about the places that wanted to possibly hire me. “They do not teach language, they just want to steal your money.’’ My response? “I don’t really care. If they pay me, I will work there.”

I headed off to my next interview and, once again, it was all in English. I told them I was interested in starting very soon and would only be available part time. There was no problem with that. In general, we had a lovely conversation and I was told I would hear from them soon.

The next day was my last interview. At this point, I was becoming rather blasé about the whole interview thing and strolled in filled with confidence. Of course, I should never have let myself get so relaxed since it turned out that this interview was conducted entirely in French! I rose to the challenge and did fine (I know since I asked). They said they were probably interested in using me for future projects and would get back to me.

Well, by the next day, I had an offer to work! I told my new potential employer the situation at the Prefecture and they quickly had the contract drawn up. I signed it and was ready to begin.

Now all I have to do is go back to the Prefecture and switch my carte….

Working in France…. Chapter 1: The Background…..

2010-07-17T16:48:00.001+02:00

Authors Note: The following 11 blogs were written over the past 5 months, but the story has finally ended and I decided to post them all in a row… my husband tells me to post the first chapter first – sorry if you need to scroll backwards to find the beginning!

I have been a stay-at-home parent for the past 8 years. During that time, I have been extremely busy raising my children. I have a lot of frustration with the prevailing attitude (held in the US and in France) that this means that I ‘don’t work’. I work, I just don’t get paid!

When arriving in France, last fall, I had no plans to find work. Besides the fact that I didn’t speak more than a few words of French (which puts a damper on employment here), I had 3 kids to re-adjust to life in a new and foreign culture. Also, Griffin was only 3 years old and only attended school about 10 hours a week. Then there was all the blogging and planning for fabulous (but affordable) vacations. This didn’t leave much time for working outside the home!

Of course, we came to France not just to live, but to live well! We were concerned that André’s salary would cover only our basic needs (rent, food, electricity, clothes etc….) but that there wouldn’t be enough left over for travel. To address this concern, the job agreed to pay to fly us to the US once each year. They also assured us that we would be receiving a large bonus every year and we would also qualify for CAF money. CAF is money the French government allots to all parents for each child. These provisions would help us to realize our dreams of travel.

Once we got here, we realized that André had a carte de sejour (green card) with the status salarie and mine was visiteur (visitor). Turns out that the status you need to get the money is vie privee et familiale (private family life). We thought we could change it or apply anyway etc… etc… but, after many many months of the run-around, we were ultimately rejected for CAF money and other French welfare programs (for instance, the average French citizen who has a child with gluten allergies receives 100 Euros a month to help cover the cost of the special food). So, there goes almost 400 Euros each month. As for the bonus, the first year we were here it was cancelled since the company was not profitable enough. What about raises? 1% last year and nothing this year. (In France that is normal, people don’t get raises here like we do at home – but who knew?) We did get the free flight to the US – which is great – and the company has been forwarding us some bonus money each month for the past year, which is the only reason we could go to Berlin (If you want to know how to take a family of 5 on a fabulous 12 day vacation including food, gas, tolls, and hotels for less than 20 Euros per person, per day, I can fill you in).

In general, all this means that our adventure money has petered out. We overspent a bit in the beginning since we assumed we’d get the CAF money at some point (by now it would be about 5000 Euros). We also have had some extra expenses here in France we never anticipated – the largest being our car, Mr. Liberty, who recently had to go into the shop, needed new snow tires and new rear brakes. Of course, what is the point of being here if I can’t see more of Europe? OK, I accept I am not going on that Greek cruise (WAHHH!!!!) but what about a four-day weekend here and there, or some camps for the kids in the summer?

We realized all this financial crunch would hit near the end of last summer and, never one to shirk from a challenge, I pursued how we could change this situation. It seemed that I would need a new carte de sejour with a different status. One that allowed me to receive CAF and/or work. I was told by ‘people in the know’ that France jealously guards who gets CAF money. They do not want random immigrants moving to France and then sucking their social welfare system dry. So, the word on the street was that I would need to find work. I was game since the kids are now all in school all week and, starting last fall, began preparing my resume in French, learning French etc… all in anticipation of this change.

In September, I told my teachers at ASEP (where I take classes) about the plan and they were supposed to help me to prepare for interviews. I asked them for prefecture advice but they couldn’t offer me any. André also asked for assistance at work and someone there knew someone who knew someone at the prefecture and promised to call and put in a good word for me. (It’s all about who you know, no matter where you are in this world).

The plan was that I would walk into the renewal appointment, tell the employee I planned on working and request a change in status. I was bringing André for back up, but it wasn’t really necessary, right? She would, naturally, smile and acquiesce.

Are you shocked to hear this is not what happened?

First off, André’s cell rang just as we were pulling into the parking lot for my appointment. It was the contact at the prefecture who explained to us that I should walk into the meeting with a promise for new employment in my hand. (Keep in mind that, as a visiteur, it is absolutely illegal for me to work). Five minutes before the meeting is a bit of short notice, don’t you think? We scrambled a bit on the phone and got the management of Andre’s company to agree to write me a letter of intent for me to work for them translating. We were to play dumb and promise the prefect employee the letter tomorrow.

OK – this was a plan. I give them the story – bring in the letter the next day and voila!, I am home free.

That’s not what happened either…

We got in there and spoke to the employee. She was very surprised I wanted to change my status at all since I came in as a visitor. I told her that was over a year ago and my situation had changed. She told me that a letter of intent wasn’t enough, I needed to bring her an actual work contract before she could change my status. I was confused by this.

Her: What makes you think you will be able to get a job in France?

Me: I have some contacts at Wall Street English that assured me I could find work with them. I did not pursue this since, at the time, I was not allowed to work. That is why I’d like to change my status.

Her: Well, I need to see a work contract before I’d change your carte.

Me: So, I need to bring you a contract?

Her: Yes, that’s right.

Me: But, if I’m not allowed to work, how am I supposed to get a contract?

Her: It’s true that you are not allowed to work. In fact, you are absolutely not allowed at all to work. But, you can still look for work.

Me: But, if I look for work, and get a contract, they will expect me to start working very soon afterward. Will I have to make an appointment to see you again to change this? (because it takes about 2 months for an appointment)

Her: No, I understand what you are saying. You just get your contract, bring it back here to the prefecture and we’ll change your status right away.

Me: Thank you. I’ll do that!

OK – so that sounds do-able. Find a job. Then change carte.

Griffin Emil – SUPERSTAR!!!

2010-07-17T16:47:00.002+02:00

June 11, 2010

We never knew this day would come, but it did. Turns out that Griffin is part of a show as well. His school put on a spectacle the Friday André was in Utah. Due to my general French ineptitude, I didn’t even realize this was going to happen until the day of the event. It started at three and went until around 5 so I took Zander and Callie out of class for the afternoon so they could cheer for their little brother (and so I wouldn’t have to leave to get them in the middle of the show). I’m not sure why, but this event was amazingly well attended. The place was packed with parents, grandparents, aunts, uncles, siblings- you name it! More than I’ve ever seen for a play for Zander or GRS for Callie. Is it because the littler ones are cuter or what?

Each class did a few numbers…. All the kids were absolutely adorable, of course – and Griffin most of all. My favorite number was Valerie’s (Callie’s old teacher). She had the kids split into thirds. One third all in black, representing sadness, walked around with pouting faces to sad music. The next third was rage – in red – and they stomped around to angry music. Then, all in white, was joy who danced around happily. In the end, all the emotions got tangled together…. just like in real life!

Then there was a bizarre number from Magali (Griffin’s old teacher). She had the kids acting out their entire lives, from birth to marriage to pregnancy…. see the pregnant toddlers on the right? Not only was it utterly bizarre, the kids had no idea what was going on – they were being treated like giant dress up dolls, which, frankly, made me mad. All of the kids were bewildered and one threw an absolute fit, refusing to get married to his assigned partner and storming off the stage - I wanted to cheer for him!

The class of Agnes (with Griffin) did some fun dancing around with scarves and things – Taking photos was not working out for me for some reason and I seem to have lost the video of his performance tossing balloons, (they say the youngest gets spoiled, but it seems like he got the shaft this time- sorry Griff!!!) At least you can see him taking a bow. He seemed happy doing it and was very proud that we all came to his show. See the link for the video…. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xwdGjRVpWBQ

A walk to Fort Beauregard

2010-07-17T16:34:00.001+02:00

June 12, 2010

Well, this was the craziest month. André went to Norway, spent about 4 days at home, and then headed off to the US for his sister’s wedding. André has two younger siblings, his brother Mark (who visited us here over a year ago) and a sister Jenae. She was married with two children but, over the last 6 months, got a divorce and got engaged. It wish we could have all been there for her special day but it was way too expensive to send the whole family. I told André he needed to go and off he went. Hopefully he will blog about his experiences there some day and I can’t wait to meet my new brother-in-law, niece and nephew – hopefully in Philly sometime soon.

Meanwhile, I had the kids on a weekend with no particular plans. We decided to make a picnic lunch and head over to Fort Beauregard for some hiking adventures and wild strawberry (frais de bois) picking.

We took a small path, picking flowers along the way. Turned out the path led to the abandoned tracks of what used to be the Besancon funicular. We have been on a few funiculars during our adventuring so it was interesting to see an abandoned one. We decided to follow the tracks up to the top of the mountain…. We were careful not to fall into holes! Callie was thrilled to find a giant bamboo baton at the top where the old station still resides – it was brought home and is still in our back garden…

Then we headed over to the fort; of course there is a wonderful view of Besancon. According to the sign posted next to the beautiful view: “The French Revolution ushered in a new period of urban defense, which arose from the threats to urban borders and advances in military technology. The new strategy was to construct advanced structures to spread the action of the garrison beyond the routes that were already covered. Fort Beauregard was built between 1845 and probably 1870. Its role was to provide cover for Fort Bregille from the north and it also protected a section of the town walls on the left bank and the head of the Battant bridge on the right bank.” It is amazing to me that this fort is only 140 years old and is it almost completely consumed – whereas we have visited so many older sites that are still functioning. I guess if you let things alone, nature takes over.

Finally we headed over to eat lunch and pick berries….

Callie also found an amazing yellow ladybug – and a lizard. She has eagle eyes…. (and she loves her little brother)

When we got back home, I made strawberry soup and two large jars of wild strawberry jam…. life is good!

Friends

2010-07-17T16:28:00.001+02:00

You may have gathered I am whipping through my blog backlog – I realize it is not my best writing – but I’m getting the story out there – and my goal is to get to telling you all about ITALY!!!

These are some everyday shots of the kids being themselves – silly friends! This is the road we took to school each day.

Here are some photos of Zander walking home with a friend from school. It is wonderful how much he has progressed in French this year – they are all truly fluent nowadays – and I don’t understand them half the time. This may become a major problem when they get older…

Last, but not least, we have a couple photos of friends. First is Adeline, my French friend I hang out with about once a month – she speaks amazing English and we like to eat out together. Next is the family of Lilou – we finally had them over for dinner one night towards the end of the school year – it was fun.

Friends are good….

Flowers

2010-07-17T16:25:00.001+02:00

Spring 2010

I just can’t let the season pass without a small blog to appreciate the flowers that grow in such glorious abundance around here. I know I will definitely miss this part of France. Yay, flowers!

This spring has been particularly wonderful because Griffin has a mission to give me a bouquet every day – this makes me happier than I can possibly express in writing. He is such a loving little boy – always telling me how much he loves me, making me drawings and giving me gifts. Flowers are the best of all…

The pictures are never anywhere near as beautiful as the real gardens we see:

And here are some homemade creations…

I love you flowers – you make me happy. Thank you for existing….

Life in France…

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Is full of so many noteworthy things!

Around town I see amazing yoga billboards, old ladies dressed French style, newborns left on the sidewalk while their moms run inside for something, new mini stores popping up on sidewalks and local teenagers learning baseball – using T-ball equipment so they can get a hit…

Recently, in our local maison de quartier, there was an open house showing all the work people have been doing in art classes this year… there is some major talent in St. Claude.

Even kids are talented- check out the sculptures (you know you are in France when there is a peeing statue sculpture on display)

We discovered they even had a library… and did you know Where’s Waldo? is Ou Est Charlie? here??? I never cease to be amazed.

There is a farm near Emmaus that has baby piggies – they are super cute!

I got a flat tire recently while in Mr. Liberty – the guy from the local garage came over to the car and changed the tire for me all in less than 20 minutes – and charged me only about 15 bucks. I like this aspect of French life!

We continue to do local adventures – buying a genuine JAZ clock at a yard sale, and visiting local towns for free spectacles.

And of course, our life at home is never boring – filled with art, hydration, fashion, dishwashing and, at the end of the day, rest (yes, Griffin really does sleep like that!)

Things to remember….

Food

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is very important to me…

Here are a few French foods I will miss

1. Franc Comtois Salad – It has lettuce, croutons, fried potatoes, comté cheese, a mustard vinaigrette and fried egg on top of it.

2. Danao – flavor: peach apricot. This is milk mixed with juice – sort of – it is amazingly good.

3. Strawberry Jam I make myself – OK, I can do this in the US as well – but ain’t it pretty?

4. Raclette – this is a special type of cheese that you melt using a little machine. You pour it on top of potatoes with sides of dried sausage and ham… YUM!

5. Seche – these are little cookie type bubbly things they make at our bakery..

OK – now that’s off my chest… or should I say belly?