Writing this update on my iPad from the Café de la Paix. It's rainy today, but not too cold. Upper fifties with plenty of walking to keep the blood moving. I'm heading out to buy a cord for my camera as soon as I finish my chocolate chaud. I figure that should give the photography store plenty of time to reopen after the lunch break. It's truly amazing sometimes; this store, for instance, is closed Sundays and Mondays, and for two hours every afternoon for lunch. They open at 10, close at 19. I'd think it's absurd and annoying except I, too, have no work albeit for an entirely different reason. France, as I'm sure you've read in the papers recently, is on strike. Oil shortages, transportation disruption, apparently a school in the Parisien suburbs was burned—it's been going on for about a week. They're protesting the reforms to the pension system, which would move the retirement age from 60 to 62 (reduced benefits) or from 65 to 67 (full benefits). Obviously to us, that seems absurdly silly, as we are lucky to retire at 65 or receive any pension whatsoever. And yes, it's probably excessive. To understand these protests, however, it's important to understand the French mentality. These rights are those they've fought tooth and nail to gain, and they guard all their rights religiously. To lose even one seems to make it possible to lose more, and that is unacceptable. It's part of their history and their patriotism to strike, celebrated by the many past revolutions carried through with popular sentiment. It's not that they're ignoring the economic issues underlining this new reform. They propose other solutions, notably increased taxation of the rich and bringing some of the burden of repairing the economy to those who are responsible for its downturn. These new reforms are set to make sure that the average French person has to sacrifice while corporations, banks, and the wealthy get left alone. It's a demonstration of power, to remind those in charge that they matter and what they want matter. The protests won't stop the reform from passing; that's practically inevitable. What it does is insure that they are not forgotten in the negotiations between the "powerful" (i.e. the politicians and the corporations). It's perfectly acceptable to believe in socialism here, as there is an official Socialist party.
Don't get me wrong, I understand that the rich cannot be responsible for funding an entire society. But I do tend to think that we in America undertax the wealthy (this coming from a spoiled brat who has never really wanted for anything and raged against having money taken out of my paycheck for taxes. I rant, but I understand that it's necessary. I'd also be willing to pay more).
So it's been rather an interesting week. People are hoping the strike doesn't continue long enough to affect our upcoming vacation of Toussaints, which lasts from this Friday to November 3. (Seriously.) For me personally, it means I have the day off. The professor I'm supposed to have classes with on Tuesdays is on strike. When a professor is absent, their class simply isn't held. Another of my professors has been sick the past week and a half, so I've been granted even more free time lately. When I was there yesterday afternoon, I saw signs all over the halls encouraging students to participate in the strike. It's considered a valid excuse for missing an exam—I overheard a few professors talking about it. Of course, this only applies to the high schools. Any younger and they aren't given the option of going on strike. People are also certain that given the upcoming vacation, students will "strike" late this week in order to begin their break early. Not that I blame them. If I had been given that opportunity in high school, no way I wouldn't have taken it.
I'm still on the hunt for a winter coat. I outgrew my old cashmere peacoat, and I'm having a hard time finding anything that measures up. I might hop the train over to Paris for a few days over break to shop—that or Bordeaux, Poitiers, or Tours. Some bigger city with more shopping options, not that La Rochelle is lacking. I simply haven't found a coat that I couldn't live without, and if I"m going to spend the money on one, it had better be the coat-love of my life (at least for the next few years, anyway).
Last night, the english professors at my high school took us english assistants (all two of us) out to dinner at a creperie. I had kir as an aperitif, then a delicious crêpe salé (savory crepe), followed by a crêpe drizzled with homemade caramel sauce (a local delicacy). We split bottles of cider, a traditional drink from Bretagne where crepes originate. One day I'll take photos of my crêpes for you to envy.
Everyone has been quite lovely and welcoming here, so it's made the intimidating prospect of teaching somewhat bearable. I'm preparing a slide show of photos, courtesy of Dad, of Charlotte, North Carolina, South Carolina, the family, Panthers games, etc. I'm also planning on giving a presentation on Thanksgiving late next month, with a recipe for pumpkin pie for them to try. So if anyone has a favorite pumpkin pie recipe, please send it my way! I usually eat other people's pies, not my own, so I don't have a recipe myself. I'm more of a cake-baker.
I'm still trying to find a used bike to get around town. That and a coat are at the top of my "To Find" list.
I think I'm OCD. I just arranged my change in size order in neat little stacks for the waiter to come pick up. That can't be a good sign, can it?
No comments:
Post a Comment