Come...I Give You Good Price

As English teacher assistants we have a very rough schedule of 12 hours a week (it's harder than it sounds...for some) and along with that every other month we have a two week vacation. Our first vacation landed in our first month of work. So on the 23rd of October we started Le Vacances de la Toussaint (basically a two week break for All Saints Day a.k.a Halloween).

We had planned a five day trip to Athens, Greece. Our flight was at 6:30a.m., and we had schedule a shuttle to pick us up at 5 a.m. To only be awoken by Lauren's brother-in-law letting us know the shuttle drive had insisted on a 4:30 a.m. pick up time...it was 4:15 a.m. when we received the call. The driver also arrived early at 4:20 a.m. So, we threw some clothes on, grabbed our bags and rushed out the door.

Of course we got to the airport an hour and a half early. At least we thought...
Turned out our flight had been delayed till 9:30 a.m., and we had checked the night before and there had been no change. We had the next four and half hours to kill. Sweet.

(There had been a train strike going on that week, which was the cause of the delay in time.)

We FINALLY boarded our plan at 10:30 a.m., which set us back practically a whole day in Greece, because it was a 4 hour flight there and getting from the airport to the hotel.

From the airport we caught a taxi with an overly friendly Aussi-- who gave us a tour along the way. Once we arrived at our hotel, we had problems with check-in and the pre-arranged price. Of course. So, we ended up switching hotels last minute, which worked out in our favor. Finally!

After dealing with the hotel, we decided to head towards downtown Athens for some dinner. Problem was we didn't know where to go. We literally asked an older American couple if we could follow them to the main streets. They were very nice, and had sons our age. We chit chated along the way till we reached their destination-- a roof top restaurant with the Parthenon behind it. They ended up inviting us to join them for dinner with their friends! It turned out to be alot of fun. We talked about Europe and America-- the differences between them-- and updates from home.

Over the next four days, we got to know the little, twisty roads of the tourist area really well.Athens itself is extremely crowded and polluted (It made Paris look spacious). So we stuck too the cute touristy streets. Where we learned the art of bargaining, which is considered perfectly fine..even in stores. Basically the convoerstaion would go like this: (Imagine in a classic Greek accent)

"Come...look...I give you good price," Sales merchant

"Oh that's ok we are just browsing." or if we found something, "How much is this?"

"Oh this is very beeeuutiful. You have very good taste. I give you good price."

And if we didn't like the price and started to leave, we got this: "Ah, wait I give you good price. Why you don't want? You don't buy yourself enough gifts. You are on vacation and all you do is buy, buy for friend and family, but what about you? Life is too short to worry about money. You only live once. Everyday you buy a little things like food and coffee. You see, these prices add up. So you just buy this one thing and it is the same."

We got very good at ignoring them or when we did want something, we knew if we started to walk away they'd knock another 10 euro or so off the price. I would say my best bargaining was either getting three wallets for the price of one or getting 95 euros knocked off a designer, leather purse.

Along with the learning the art of bargaining, we also did some sit seeing. We went to the Parthenon and saw the Acropolis and Nike. We also went to the Temple of Zeus and walked around the gardens.

In addition to our sight seeing, we went on a one day boat tour of three Greek Isles. Of course it rained most of the trip like it had been most of our time in Greece (another lost opportunity for October tans), but there was one Island that was classic greek style with donkeys and all. We took a 10 min donkey tour around the Island (on this Island, the only form of transportation is donkeys), which I thought was fabulous, but Lauren didn't enjoy soo much.

I would have to say my favorite part of Greece hands-down was the food. Oh! It was amazing! Greek salads, Tzatziki sauce, Zucchini balls, warm (!) bread rolls with the best butter ever, and Gyros.

There was one night we were out walking along the streets, and we had heard about a show that was going on. And while looking for that place, an old man came up whisked us off to a Greek restaurant. He ask, "Do you like to dance? Yes, then you come with me." They had traditional Greek dancing. We ended up getting up on stage and dancing with them. It was alot of fun!

We had our favorite restuarant outside of the Parthanon (the same one the American couple showed us) that we went to three times. On our last night there they gave us a free dessert (fruit) and Oozo shots (super sugary and strong).

All and all Greece was great. I would recommend seeing Athens for a day or two and then going to one of the Islands, but make sure to go when the sunshine is a guarantee.

Paris, Barcelona, Paris, and Athens

Lauren, my room mate, and I have gone on two trips since moving to Paris six weeks ago. Our first was a weekend-jaunt to Barcelona, Spain.

It was the first real cloudy, windy and wet week in Paris. And by Thursday morning we were sick of it. So, I wasn't too surprised when Lauren sent me a text wanting to know if I'd be up to hopping a plane to Barcelona that night. Why not? When in Paris, right?

After rushing home from work, and throwing some clothes in a bag; we were off to the airport for some sunshine and late October tans.

We didn't land in Barcelona till around midnight, and crashed into bed around 1:30 a.m.

Bright and sunshiny early, we headed off to the center of Barcelona-- La Ramblas. During our weekend stay, we pretty much spent our entire time walking up and down La Ramblas admiring the odd street performers and merchants. They sold all kinds of things, from jewelry to pets (bunnies, birds, chickens, mice, ect).

We also took a hop-on-hop-off bus around to all the touristy stuff. Our favorite was Park Guell, which was designed by the famous Spanish architect Antoni Gaudi. It was beautiful with all the flowers, greenery and the tiled architecture -- very breath taking and original. The park is in a French film called "L'Auberge Espagnole."

La Ramblas is also known for pick pockets and even though we were on the look out, my purse was still almost stolen. While waiting for the hop-on-hop-off bus we sat down by a fountain to talk. There were many people around doing the same. A man sat down next to me and I didn't think much of it except he was rather close and breathing heavily. After awhile of him fidgeting, I glanced down and noticed he had his finger on my purse. I instantly grabbed it, placed it in my lap and told Lauren we should leave. I think while he was fidgeting he had managed to move my purse closer to him, because I had originally placed it in between our legs. As soon as we were in line for the bus, two men approached us stating they were police and saw the man had tried to steal my bag. Needless to say it was a little more excitement than I needed.

Unfortunately, it was not very warm. Even though it was sunny, there was a constant wind keeping it just chilly enough to prevent any sun bathing.

--more to come on Athens--

Pizza, Pizza!

After waiting five hours to get into our apartment, we unpacked and started to organize our things and decided to order a pizza.

First issue, where do you order a pizza in France? We knew where to go and get one, but the whole point of ordering in... is to stay in. So, I googled it and Pizza Hut popped up. Sweet! It was only a few blocks from our apartment, but sticking with the decision to not leave, (also, the locksmith had told us it would be better to not leave the apartment with the door broken) we placed an order for delivery at 8:20 p.m. They said 40min delivery time.

We had some friends coming over and thought it would be perfect timing for the pizza too. Our friends arrived at 9:30 p.m. and the pizza hadn't come more than an hour after we had ordered it. No big deal.

Another half hour goes by. 10:00 p.m., we decided to call in. They said that is was on it's way, and we proceed to explain we were given a 40min delivery time at 8:20 p.m. They lied and said it was 9:30 p.m. when we ordered the pizza.

Here's where it starts to get interesting, our French friends get on the phone. They proceeded to debate for an hour over whether the pizza should be free or not. The manager refused to do so, and we refused to pay. After waiting for pizza for two hours, we gave up. And then the door bell rings.

Our French friends were still on the phone with the manager when the pizza man arrived. They ran downstairs and handed the phone to the delivery man. We got two pizzas for the price of one. Scratch that, two cold, hard pizzas for the price of one, and one of them was baby size.

Don't order pizza for delivery in France, but if you do be prepared to have a debate about the difficulties of the day-to-day life of the working man and why we would want a pizza in a timely manner--just make sure to be tip-top on your French skills or have a native close by!

How Lock Picking Works...

Move in day in Paris. We had been sharing a hotel room for the last two weeks, and were biting-at-the-bit to get into our two bedroom apartment in the Marais-- all 96 glorious-square-meters of it.

I've said it before...and will probably say it again after...nothing is simple in Paris.

We checked out of our hotel, and got to our apartment around noon. We did several loads on the elevator between the ground floor and second floor with all our luggage while one person was in the elevator, another loading the elevator and one by the front door. I was the lucky one by our front door...surrounded by luggage, I went to unlock the door.

Now, something as simple as unlocking the door in my twenty-second year of life has become second nature. You just do it. You don't stop to think of the direction you are turning the key. Well what direction you turn the key makes a difference. a BIG difference. Of course. Only in France.

I turned the key to the left, which is the normal direction in the states. Well in France you turn it to the right. As I was in the midst of turning the key to the oh-so-unfortunate-direction to the left...I started hearing a bunch of clicking noises. so I stopped. Took in a deep breath, as I remembered, You aren't supposed to turn it to the left.Turning it to the left causes the door to deadbolt itself from floor to ceiling...aie.

To correct myself, I started turning it to the right. Correction. I tried to turn it to the right. Might as well tried to unlock a brick wall...cause that key wasn't going anywhere towards the right. Great, I thought, I screwed up the door on our first day in our new apartment. And then proceeded to yell down the stairs to my room mates that I broke the door...oops!

So, day to day things aren't super simple in France. But on Sundays everything practically stops. Well, we were moving in on a Sunday. So, when we called the land lady about our door she said, "mais, c'est dimanche...(but it's Sunday)." Our response: "Well yeah and we'd really like to spend it in our apartment." She was not happy-- saying it was my fault for turning the key the wrong way and we should be able to unlock it. (You're supposed to be able to unlock the floor to ceiling deadbolt by turning the key hard to the right-- problem is it wouldn't turn at all). After a half hour, Lauren was able to convince her to come to help us.

As soon as she got there, she could tell there was something else wrong with the door, and it wasn't my fault. Whew!! Now it was time to call the lock smith. Can you guess his answer?

"..mais, c'est dimanche."

After some French bickering, the land lady got him to agree to come within that day. So we had some time on our hands.

After, luckily, an hour wait, the lock smith showed up. He couldn't even get the door to open! By chance...and as they said it..."on a bonne chance...you're lucky", there was a bedroom window unlocked. The locksmith had to climb through a window on the second floor and open the door from the inside -- technically, he had to pry the door open.

Apparently, one of the bolts was stuck and that is why it wouldn't open. It was not my fault at all, thank goodness!

So after a five hour delay, we were finally able to move into our apartment and fully unpack! What else is there to do but order a pizza on move in day. It's tradition! Oh, but of course that is a whole other story!

Everybody texts...but nobody calls

Oh the challenges of opening up a cell phone account in France, along with any other form of an account. You really don't realize how easy we have it in the States until you need to do an everyday task here.

On the first day, my number one priority was to get a phone that I could use to talk with friends in France and ones back home. Easier said than done.

Monique took me to SFR, her service provider, to start up an account. First, we realized it is impossible to unlock my iPhone to use with a French sim card. So, the option of pre-paid cards is out, unless I want a toy phone that does nothing other than ring or buy the iPhone for full price-- 600 plus Euro a.k.a $900.00. My other option is to start an account and get the iPhone for 99 Euro. Sounds simple enough.

That's where we were wrong. To open an account you need: a passport, utility bill, proof of housing, and a debit card. Well I had all of those things, except one snag-- they wanted a French debit card not an American one. We were told to return after I opened my bank account with a check or carte bleue (the French version of a debit card).

The only reason I was able to open a bank account without signing away my soul in blood is because of Monique. She set up an appointment at her bank and introduced me as her American niece who would be living with her for the next year. They made a million copies of everything-- my passport, visa, Arrete, proof of housing and utility bill (both of those were provided by Monique). Then they needed detailed information of where I was born, my parents names and my income. It took like five minuets for me to explain that my middle name was not connected to my first name-- for example they have names like John-Pierre. So, he thought my first name was Caitlin-Honeyman. There have been a handful of other times where I've tried to explain Honeyman is my middle name, not part of my first name. He also proceeded to explain to me that a carte bleue is a debit card so it will be deducting money from my bank account, and that is not a credit card like we use in the States... Haha... So, after an hour of paper work and signing I finally had my very own French bank account.

We then proceed back to the phone store with a RIB (a slip of paper that is like a debit card till you get the real one) to open my phone account. One helpful tip, when opening an account in France make sure and get a nice person. If the person helping you seems to be rude in anyway.. just walk away. I had all my paper work ready, had fully researched the phone plans and was jumping with anticipation for my new phone. We were in the process of setting up the account when she asked for my carte bleue and I handed her the RIB-- she looked at me like I was dumber than dirt. "Je ne peut pas utiliser ce choses pour ouvert une forfait," ("I cannot use this to open an account") she said with disdain. I looked at Monique and did everything thing I could to not break down and cry.

That was when Monique swept in and did that best thing ever-- she put me on her account! I chose the illimythics pro plan, which gave me the option to call landlines in the States for free. Downside-- I had to pay eight Euro extra for Internet and texts weren't included, which is kind of a big deal since no one calls here; they all text. The reason no one calls here: French cell phone plans are weird-- they do the amount of talk time by hours. So, I get 3hours of talk time for 50 Euro a.k.a 70 bucks a month. That's nothing compared to the 900 minuets I have back home through AT&T. And, normally unlimited text is included in the plan.

After I opened my plan, I immediatly started to try and use the Internet. It wasn't working...waited an hour...wasn't working. I called SFR, they told me it could take up to two days to start working. OK...decided to try and call the States...wasn't working. After, waiting for two days for the Internet to kick in and the ability to call the States I finally called their helpline. I was informed that I hadn't been signed up for the Internet and couldn't call the States for a month. The snobbish lady at SFR had not made any of those options available to me even though I was paying extra each month for it. AGH! The helpline was very...well...helpful, and I was able to start using all the options I was paying for.

I've had my phone for almost a month, and I've already switched the plan to just illimythics. That includes texts, Internet for free and a bonus option to double my talk time. You realize, it's the little things like Skyping that are more important than being able to call home from your cell phone. Also, because of the awesomeness that is the iPhone there are several applications you can use to easily talk to friends back home-- such as Ping!, an app. similar to BBM but just for the iPhone (it's unlimited texts for free to anyone with an iPhone).

Seven Months in Paris

My name is Caitlin, and I'm a recent graduate of the University of Oregon. I'm currently living in Paris, France and will be for the next seven months -- working as an English assistant at an Elementary school in the NW suburbs of Paris.

This blog is going to follow the adventures and experiences of what happens while I live in Paris. A look into the quirks and differences of a new culture and starting a new in a different country -- all while speaking a different language. Mainly, this is a fun way to stay in touch with my family and loved ones, but maybe you'll find something of interest or helpful throughout my posts. My boyfriend may also be adding additional notes from his perspective of this experience.

Le Début

So, I'm a little behind on starting this blog. I've been in Paris for almost a month now, and though I've had plenty of adventures so far to write about, I have yet to actually sit down and put keyboard to screen. So what a better time than to start now on a drizzly Wednesday afternoon?

My adventure started before the sun had even risen on the 25th of September when my boyfriend, Nick, and I packed his car to the brim with my four suitcases and left for the Portland Airport. The unexpected started immediately, when I went to check my luggage and received a whopping $600 fee from my bags. (Side note: Triple check the baggage rules of your airlines for international flights, and if they will be charging you for cross country luggage or international. Later on, I learned that I was charged for flying my bags to JFK where I caught my transfer flight-- not the same as the international price!) After a rushed and tearful goodbye, I was on my way to the city of lights.

I arrived in the beautiful city of Paris on September 26th bright and early-- completely overwhelmed, sleep deprived and tear stained. Luckily, I had a ride from Charles de Gaulle from the Lovely Monique to her apartment. After she whisked me away down the chaotic and windy streets of Paris and set me up in her apartment, the full load of what I was about to do started to settle in.

Tired, homesick and lost in translation, I began my first day in Paris with Monique as my guide. We went to get my picture taken for my Navigo (Metro, Train and Bus pass), to the phone store (a whole other story) and almost to the train station before I completely collapsed of exhaustion.

I finally went to bed at the ripe hour of five p.m. after 20 hours of traveling and a full day of errands to be wide awake three hours later. I can only say thank the technology gods for the Laptop, Internet and Skype, or else I wouldn't of made it through those first few days of homesickness.

After two days of staying at Monique's, I went to join my new room mates Lauren and Lindsey at a hotel where we stayed for the next two weeks until our apartment was ready.

Over the last month I have learned: Nothing is simple in France (opening bank accounts, phone plans and apartments), the challenges of working in a foreign country, of the difficulties of language barriers, and the test of living with four girls in a two bedroom apartment.