I Diverge... American Presidential Election

Yesterday, while lounging poolside along with all of the tanned French people returning from vacation and their screaming children, I overheard three young girls speaking about the American presidential election. Though my French is not good enough to really understand, I realized that it is a topic of international interest. So rather that writing a typical blog today, I will blog about the contest between Obama and McCain.

Having heard so many opinions, I've realized that is exactly what they are... opinions. No one can predict the outcome of this race. And that is what is particularly disturning. The U.S. is engaged in two wars, the economy has faltered, unemployment is up and confidence in our government is down. When Nancy Pelosi became Speaker of the House, I was optimistic that things would improve. They haven't. The Democrats should be controlling the national agenda. Yet, the national polls show that Obama and McCain are close. There is no predictable winner.

Obama is loved by the Democrats because, like a college professor, he is articulate and speaks well. But governing require more than words. Hence, that is why Obama is consistently pestered with doubts about his relative lack of inexperience. Ahhh, but he will surround himself with intelligent people who will be able to help him realize his vision. Wait a minute, didn't George W. Bush say the same thing? Didn't he solicit the help of a bunch of Washington insiders, who knew how things really work? While the American Public is being offered change during Obama's speeches, what does that change look like and who will be implementing it? How will those Washington insiders help Obama bring about change?

And what was McCain thinking when he selected Sarah Palin as his vice-predidential running mate? What could she possibly bring to the ticket? As a working mother of five, one of whom is in Iraq, and no national experience (translation: Washington outsider) McCain's choice was brilliant or desperate. Conventional wisdom is that the vice-presidential candidate does not sway elections. If that case, her selection is irrelevant. But if this is an atypical election year, then maybe vice-presidential candidates, race and gender may play a role that is difficult to predict.

There is only one way for Obama to win. He must destroy McCain's reputation as a maverick. He must highlight that McCain is out of touch with the American public, will change his views on issues like tax breaks and immigration, and will do whatever is necessary to win including selecting an inexperienced woman from Alaska to be his running mate. He must paint McCain as a typical politician.

There is only one way for McCain to win. He must highlight that Obama is loved by the Democrats for his big ideas, his grand oratory and his winning style. Continue attacking Obama for his lack of experience and his naivete. He must highlight that it is easy to say what people want to hear, but that Obama has no clue on how to really bring about change. He must paint Obama as a typical politician who will say anything to get elected.

Though this presidential election will be influenced by many factors, the winner will be the one who without being explicit, does a better job of labelling the other as a "typical politician" who will do anything or say anything to get elected. Is it about race, gender, experience and wisdom? Of course it is. That's "politics as usual," which seems self apparent even as I lounge poolside, listening to the French rattle on about American presidential politics.

Traveling Inward

During the past few weeks I've spent as much time traveling inward as I have wandering the streets of Paris. Okay, that's not exactly true, but I say this to emphasize that I've been investing more time writing in a journal and contemplating life. Despite having a few more weeks before returning to San Francisco, I'm in a period of transition. My brain oscillates between the wonderful life I am enjoying in Paris and curiosity about the future that lies ahead.

I feel blessed to be able to spend five months in Paris. Michael reminds me of this repeatedly when I speak to him. Unfortunately, we were only able to visit twice during my time in France. But knowing that he and Hugo are only three and a half hours away by train is somehow reassuring. And while I am sad that my time in Paris is coming to an end, I appreciate that I had the strength, courage, ability and naivete to pursue this adventure.

I know the future can be scary, that bad things happen and life provides us with many hurdles and obstacles. But, I'm coming to appreciate the difficult things in life. Don't get me wrong, I don't enjoy them. But slowly I'm learning to appreciate that each obstacle we overcome is a step forward in our lives. Appreciation of my life today is the result of every step, good and bad, that led me to the present..

I do not believe, as is rather popular these days, that everything happens for a reason. I do not believe in what I call "treadmill destiny." I detest the idea that everything, or anything, I do is pre-ordained. Even if it is true, it is too boring to contemplate. Instead, I prefer to believe that I am the proverbial captain of my own destiny, charting a course and making adjustments as I wander the streets of Paris, head to Istanbul or reinvent my life in San Francisco.

Travel nourishes my desire to experience what life has to offer. Though my time in Paris is coming to an end, I know that many future voyages lie ahead.

The large globe on the left depicts the celestial movements around the planet, and the one on the right is the best representation of the planet during the reign of Louis XIV. Note the woman to the lower left.

And away we go...!

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Roof top view from the Institut du Monde Arabe with Notre Dame peeking up behind me.

Institut du Monde Arabe, building exterior. Windows open and close, based on internal temperature of building. Energy conserving idea and architecturally intriguing.

View from the inside. They're not just windows, they're art.

Paris. Now Open.

Paris is returning from summer vacation. It is truly amazing how the pace of life changes on the streets of Paris during August. Although I had been warned that life slows down while Parisians disappear for an exotic and relaxing "sejour" during August, I was not prepared for the near ghost-town like quality that emerges in this metropolis of 2.2 million people, 10.5 million including the suburban areas surrounding Paris.

Notify the police (upper left corner), the boulangerie is closed for a WHOLE month!

Salon owner at beach. Please come back in two weeks.

Last weekend, which followed Assumption Day, was the peak. Every self-respecting Parisian had left on vacation in early August and had not yet returned. Last Sunday, I walked down Rue Rambuteau near the Pompidou Centre, a major tourist destination. Of the thirty-three businesses I counted, only five were open, three produce stores, one restaurant and a corner-market. Admittedly it was Sunday, but still...!

On Tuesday morning I went to look for bread. This is an odd statement in Paris as typically a boulangerie can be found within a block or two. But I passed eight boulangeries before returning home with a warm loaf of multi-grain and two pains au chocolats. Yummm. Okay, I passed two boulangeries that I don't care for much, but the point is that five were closed for vacation.

By yesterday, life was returning to normal. Evidence includes the need to swerve while walking down the street to avoid colliding with other pedestrians, smelling cigarette smoke everywhere (now that smoking is forbidden in restaurants and bars, sidewalks are the new smoking zone,) and swimming is once again a contact sport.

Personally, I prefer busy, crazy, crowded Paris. I love stroling down the street and seeing the well-designed display windows of small stores; smelling the fresh-baked bread wafting from the boulangeries, beautiful displays of pastries in the windows of the patisseries; amazing culinary delights prepared by artisan "traiteurs"; over-hearing tourists who speak every language imaginable; and of course, the French people who are always prepared to make a fashion statement. In Paris, one can always be intrigued and entertained. Just a little less in August.

Pastries - of course. Since these are minis, it's okay to eat more than one.


French "fast food." It's truly amazing the quality and variety of pre-pared dishes that are available. Pricey, but irresistible. And yes, the two pieces of art on the right are made of salmon.

Fashion, fashion, fashion. I'm guessing this woman was in here 60s, so she gets double-bonus points. Obviously she eats fewer pastries than I do and gets exercise while walking her doggie.

Freak-Out Phase

Twenty two days and counting. I'm freaking out a bit. In just three weeks I will vacate my amazing apartment in Paris and then travel for two weeks to yet undetermined locations before returning to San Francisco. To most people, five weeks of "vacation" would seem terrific. And it is terrific.

However, I've reached a turning point. Of course I would love to have the fun-filled care-free days continue. Yet, a natural shift is occuring inside my head. During the past couple of weeks I've been feeling more introspective. Thoughts of work, leaving Paris and the wonderful life that I am enjoying here, returning to San Francisco - all of these are creeping into my head. The battle commences. "Just let it go. Go with the flow." "It's time to start thinking about the next phase and what I'm going to do." "Just be in the moment. Enjoy." "This is a wonderful time to ponder my future. Take advantage of it. Let you mind wander and ponder the future."

The truth is that I am enjoying my time and my life in Paris. The reality is that it will come to an end. Sure, I have my own fantasies, and I've heard other people's suggestions, about prolonging this experience. But, in fact, falling in love or working in Paris would be a different experience and not the easy-going, one-day-at-a-time, do-whatever-I-want-when-I-want kind of adventure I'm having now.

The next phase is inescapable. And I've been very fortunate to have an opportunity to take a break, to relax, to absorb life and experience just being. For this, I am truly gratful. And, I realize that the next phase (which I think has already begun) is about re-balancing and re-aligning my life. Stagnation, as much as I am enjoying this amazing adventure, is not an option. Life, or maybe it is time, has a way of kicking us in the butt and moving us. So, it is with great appreciation that I look on my time in Paris, and it is with great anticipation that I look forward to the next phase. My goal is to chart a new course while being receptive to options that present themselves.

But in the meantime, I still have three weeks to absorb this amazing city and to have new experiences.

La Tour de Sewer

It's been a whacky week. Leo is visiting from Oakland. Since he was struggling from jet lag, we stayed out late several nights. Though it seemed late to me, Leo was actually going to sleep early, between 7:00 and 9:00 pm California time. Typically I returned home earlier than he did. Still I don't think I've ever seen 4:00 am so many times in one week. Now I feel like I have jet lag due to the nine-hour difference between Paris and California. Oy.

We did manage to "faire une grande balade." In other words we took a long stroll through Paris. Having left my house shortly after 2:00 one afternoon, we headed past Notre Dame, down the right bank, wandered through the 7th arrondisement, weaved through the mobs at the Eiffel Tower, crossed the Seine and walked past the Trocadero to the Arch de Triomphe. Then we strolled down the Champs Elysee and promenaded through the Jardin de Tuileries.

From the Louvre, it's just a short walk back to the Marais, where we arrived at about 9:00 and justified eating pizza for the second time in three days. After all, it was a seven hour "work-out."


Along the way, we stopped in at the Musee des Egouts. Leo, as a city planner and myself, with strange interests, both wanted to do a "tour of the sewer." There really is a complex network of sewers underneath Paris and the history and technology is quite fascinating. It made me realize how dependent we are upon the invisible infrastructure of our cities. So, next time you're sitting on the toilet or drinking a glass of water, think about how lucky we are to not have to think about such things.


For those who think this was a "Les Miserables" experience, well it kind of was. Apparently, Victor Hugo had connections and when he wrote of protagonist Jean Valjean escaping through the sewers of Paris, it is based on actual knowledge of the complex sewer system. (Confession, I've only seen the play and never read the novel.)

Being ever so shy, Leo would not allow me to take a photo. Fortunately he thought these large plates of "steel" (I'm sure he'll correct me as to the type of metal it actually is) made for magnificent art, so I was able to snap a photo of his shadow. Considering all of the late nights, maybe a shadow is appropriate.

Freaking-Out Over "Nothing"

I haven't learned to speak French. I haven't made friends with any native French speakers. I'm spending my days doing "nothing." This week I saw the X-Files movie (even if you are an X-Files fan, wait for the DVD,) went to the Musee des Arts et Metier (absolutely fascinating and it made me realize how little I know, for example, about how things came to be measured; the invention of clocks, paper and glass; magnetic recording of CDs etc. etc.) went swimming (three times,) took a walk along Paris Plage (a fake beach,) wrote in my journal (a paper notebook,) read a book (a few chapters anyway,) and watched television (under the pretense of learning French.) But I'm not doing anything!!!

Can you tell I'm freaking out a little? With less than five weeks in Paris remaining, I'm setting goals, retrospeictively. For example, before arriving I had not planned on becoming reasonably competent in French, though I had hoped it would improve somewhat, which it has. Somehow, I now imagine that I should be meeting native French people as this would somehow allow me to prolong my time here. Not a rational thought, but there it is. There are still many things that I haven't seen or done in Paris which I now feel I should. Of course, one could spend a lifetime here and still not see and do everything.

Oddly, time passes quickly and I don't get bored. I can't explain what I'm feeling, but I can say that it is a bit uncomfortable. Is it guilt? Should I be doing something that I am not? Is it generalized anxiety that I will be returing to San Francisco all too soon? Is it... Oh My God... is it that I am relaxing? What is this feeling? Why did it take three and a half months to reach this point?

Maybe I'm doing exactly what I need to be doing - "nothing." Vacations and sabbaticals, and ostensibly quitting one's job and moving to Paris for five months, really are an opportunity to drain one's emotional and mental reservoirs, to create capacity for new and rewarding experiences. And here I am, draining my reservoir, relaxing and doing what I want to do because I can.

During the end of July and August, many stores, restaurants and yes, my treasured patisseries, close for three to four weeks. People go on vacation. Paris is oddly quiet during this time. I've never been one to take a vacation for a few weeks to just relax. Instead, I always took vacations to go do as much as I could and would return home exhausted (if I did it right.) But now, I'm learning something new. After four months in Paris, I'm learning how to relax. How to be a human BE-ing and not just a human DO-ing.

So, I'm "doing" nothing" and just "being." It's odd, but as the French have discovered, it's a good thing.

The Past Week. TBM#3

Realizing that I have not posted a Blog entry for over a week, I find myself feeling a bit negligent. Really, I do NOT have a good excuse. The past week has been the slowest since I arrived in Paris and so I have had plenty of time. Of course, since the past week was so slow, there has been less to share. So, hence this is #3 in the Trivial, Boring and Mundane series.

Purple. That is the color to watch for this season. I was out shopping for clothes over the weekend and started to notice the "Nouvelle Collections." Today, two days later, walking down the street I saw dozens of people wearing purple. It's as if people bought new purple clothes over the weekend, washed them on Sunday, and today was the official day to start wearing purple.

Speaking of shopping for clothes, the big sales in France are regulated. Yep, that's right. There are two big sales a year, one in February and the other which starts at the end of June and continues through July. I can actually find clothes here that fit, and was pretty excited this past weekend to find four shirts - polo's and fancy t-shirts - which I got for a mere 22 euros. (Okay, so it's about $35, but it was still a bargain. Then, I did what I rarely ever do: impulse shopping. I found a t-shirt, yes a t-shirt for which I paid 20 euros ($32.) Nothing special really, except that it was part of a series based on San Francisco. There was one for Union Square, another for the Lower Haight where I first lived when I moved to SF. But, I had to buy the "Richmond District. San Francisco. Since 1975. Haight-Ashbury vs Richmond. Thirty Five." It makes no sense to me, but it is quite amusing to me and will probably be the only Richmond District t-shirt I will ever buy (or find for that matter.) French fashion meets San Francisco suburbs. (Okay, technically I live in Laurel Heights, which is adjacent to the Inner Richmond which is adjacent to the Richmond District. But close enough.)

It was hot hot hot this past week. That is part of the reason I did nothing except hide out in my apartment with the curtains closed and the windows shut. Okay, I did go out, but that doesn't sound very dramatic. One afternoon I passed a thermometer-clock and I swear it indicated that it was 40 degrees CELCIUS. If it was accurate that would be 104 degrees. I think it was a bit off. That being said, one night after returing from a walk along "Paris Plage" aka Paris Beach, I returned to my apartment and the temperature inside was 86 degrees. And this was after midnight. I'm a wimp from San Francisco and not able to tolerate hot weather, so I did not sleep well last week.

Otherwise the week was filled with dinner with Fabrizio and his "flying partners"; studying French and watching television; a few trips to the swimming pool, several walks including one in a park on the outskirts of Paris (hoping for cooler weather in the shade); and dinner at a Columbian-Mexican restaurant with Ariel and Renaud who had just returned from their vacation.

Oh, and did I forget to mention that despite just getting over a cold, I hauled my ass down to the Champs Elysee to watch the finale of the Tour de France? Not the best view, but more fun than watching it on television.

I also made a trip to the Louvre on Sunday, along with a million other people. The first Sunday of each month is free at many museums, and an economical way to spend the day, especially for a family with a dozen children.

Louvre - Napoleon's Apartment. A bit over the top.

A tapestry, not a painting. Look closely at those trees. They seem almost life-like.


A walk through the Jardin de Tuileries in front of the Louvre. Rides, games, food, a ferris wheel and lots of fun for families who can't escape the Paris heat and who can't tolerate the crowds at the Louvre.



So, to quote Monty Python's Holy Grail... "I'm not dead... yet." I've just been lazy and not blogging. And yes Mel, I will try to be a little better at posting more blog entries. Actually, Leo arrives on Saturday so I'm sure to have more adventures soon.