Sunday, November 25, 2012

Thanksgiving or: How I Learned to Do Maximum Work for Minimum Result

 "Sir, you can't let him in here. He'll see everything! He'll see the big board!"

The title of this post is of course in reference to the movie Dr. Strangelove or: How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Bomb, which is also from where I stole the quote. Well, guess what? I'm about to let you in here. To see everything. Even the big board. ...No, I'm not worried you'll learn about my intelligence and my master plans (like the Americans in the film were worried of the Russians). But quite the opposite: you are going to be revealed my ignorance and perturbation via an incident involving cooking for a Thanksgiving dinner.


As you know, I am currently in France, far from the land of Those Who Celebrate Thanksgiving. Fortunately, I was not condemned to passing a lonely, non-celebratory holiday in a foreign country because there are other people here doing the same program as me - some of whom are also American and also who wanted to have our own celebration over here. De plus, the other foreign assistants were curious about Thanksgiving and wanted to celebrate it with us, too. Excellent! We now have a plan. Everyone is going to make a dish or two and bring it all to someone's house where we will gather, feast and celebrate.
 
So obviously the question now is: what do I want to bring? My options are limited because my apartment's only cooking appliance is one small burner. (One small burner that doesn't even work past Med-High, else it flips the breaker.) No microwave, no oven, etc. I'm also limited because my cooking skills extend about as far as putting frozen chicken breasts in the oven and congratulating myself and my extraordinary culinary abilities for having basted them first! I expect the Food Network to approach me about filming a pilot for a show any day now.

My first thought is to make a family favorite dessert that's very simple and requires no actual cooking. It's basically a cookie and Cool Whip layered dessert. Dip chocolate cookies in milk (so they'll soften), and put in a layer in the bottom of a dish. Layer of Cool Whip on top. More cookies, more Cool Whip, etc. Then let set in the fridge over night. Simple. I'll do that. But I fear many people will opt for a dessert as well and we will be short on actual 'meal' food. Someone is baking a chicken, so I decide to do a side. A relatively simple pasta salad (that also requires minimal cooking): boil noodles, mix with shredded cheese and Italian dressing, refrigerate. Done.

What could possibly go wrong? If you are asking yourself that question, then you obviously underestimate my ability to take any simple task and make it as complicated and convoluted as possible.

Seriously, what could go wrong...

First of all, I of course procrastinated until the last minute - the day before the gathering. (I didn't even take my own advice!) Despite both dishes being able to sit in the fridge for a few day with no problem, I decided to not attempt to make them until the night before - because what could possibly go wrong? (I know, I underestimated my simple-tasks-made-complex abilities as well.)

So I take a trip to the grocery store (walking, of course). List: penne noodles, shredded cheese, Italian dressing (liquid, not creamy), chocolate chip cookies, and Cool Whip. The first two ingredients I find with no trouble, but then I get to the salad dressing. And evidently France does not support Italian dressing like we in the United States do. So I stand there staring for a few minutes before deciding on a lemon / olive oil dressing instead; I figured it was relatively close to Italian, and it'd probably be an OK substitute. The cookies are found easily also, but the Cool Whip presents a problem. I cannot find that anywhere. However, they do have a great assortment of creams in general. And I happen to have recently been reminded / told that you can manually whip cream into whipped cream (Cool Whip). So I find something that appears to be whipping cream - it has a picture of a spoon with a dollop of the cream on it and some strawberries, much like the Cool Whip containers I'm used to. Alright, so this is what I'll use to make the whipped cream!

When I arrive home, I decide to make a test batch of my pasta. So I boil some noodles, then mix them with the cheese and lemon dressing. And it tastes ... nowhere near as good as the Italian version does. And I am quite put off. Now what I am supposed to make? *Sigh* I'll come back to that problem. Let's go ahead and get this cream whipped.

First thing's first: look up on the internet how to whip your own cream. And after clicking through many different articles and YouTube videos, what I learn is: to whip your cream, you...whip it. Granted, you need to add a little sugar to it, but besides that, it's simple whipping. The most important thing I learned is that if you do it by hand (as opposed to a mixer), it will take forever. So I figure I might as well start forever right now.

Tricksy hobbitses




I pull out my tub of cream and...this doesn't look right. This is much thicker than what I've seen in the videos. It's the consistency of whipped cream already instead of a liquid. So I return to the omnipotent internet and discover that what I bought - crème épaisse - is essentially thick (heavy) cream. (I should've paid closer attention to the label.) It's basically a less bitter sour cream that's thicker than Cool Whip. And it will not serve my purpose.

So now I'm two for two on failed dishes! It's time to revamp this plan and head back to the grocery store. Fix #1 - actually buy the right kind of cream to whip for the dessert. Fix #2 - I decide to make a baked ziti in lieu of my pasta salad. It seems like a good plan because I already have the noodles and shredded cheese, so I just need to purchase the beef to brown and the pasta sauce. (Also, I figure I can cook each element separately on my one burner - the noodles and then the beef - and mix it all together while it's still warm. And fortunately there is to be an oven at the house where we're meeting, so I can sprinkle some cheese on the top and leave in the oven for a bit to get it re-warmed and have a nice, freshly melted cheese topping.) Excellent, we are now on a new mission! Back to the grocery store (walking again). I decide to go to a different store because it's a little bit closer, and perhaps I didn't see the cream I wanted at the first one because they didn't have it? Who knows.

Go to grocery store. Trip is a success. Gather all necessary items. Now home to cook. Finally.

First will be the dessert because the longer it sits in the fridge, the better. Which obviously means whipping the cream first. I pour the cream into a bowl - a chilled bowl, mind you, because everywhere I read says that helps. And I take my fork and I start whipping by hand. Ten minutes go by. This is kind of tiring. ...Twenty minutes. Whipping hands have been switched back and forth. ...Thirty minutes. Sugar added to taste; it's kind of getting whipped up. ...Forty minutes. Arms...tired...want...to quit...but almost...there... Forty-five minutes. Victory! Finally! Now keep in mind this was only 40 centiliters! (An amount just larger than your typical soda can at 33cl.) You know how people will run on a treadmill, but watch TV to pass the time? That's me, but instead of running, I'm whipping cream. And I'm able to watch an entire hour-long drama online (45 minutes without commercials). Just whipping cream.


Before whipping


After 45 minutes of whipping


So now I start to make the actual dessert. Dip cookies in milk; make a layer on bottom; cover with (freshly) whipped cream. Another layer of milked cookies; another layer of whipped cream. But the remaining whipped cream is just barely enough to put on top of these cookies. And there's still another layer to go. And looking at my cookie supply: I am going to run out. So - you guessed it - trip number THREE to the grocery store. Simply to pick up some more chocolate chip cookies. Alas, you can tell I was never a boy scout. I'm only partially prepared at any given time.

I trek to the store to buy the cookies. And now back to my favorite activity: I have more cream to whip. But I only need about half as much as before - enough to buff up the second layer and then put the third/final layer on top. So I decide to only use about half of the next bottle of cream. That's all the amount I need, and hopefully the ratio of liquid-to-timetowhip is linear, and it will take half the time with half the liquid. ...Haha, I could be so lucky. No, no. Rest assured that it still took 45 minutes to whip! It's like déjà vu of the least exciting thing that has ever happened.




Midway through my dessert
Fortunately, I am at last able to finish the dessert. It took me more than 1.5 hours to make something that would've taken five minutes at home, having the right ingredients. (Oh, Cool Whip, I never knew ye made life so simple.) I am tired of cooking and tired from cooking. The ziti will have to wait until tomorrow.

Day 2. The dessert is setting up nicely in the fridge. Awesome. Now for the ziti. And the fun thing, remember, is that I only have one burner. With one small pot and a frying pan. So to make this full size (9x13) pan of baked ziti, I must do it in stages. And here is how I proceed:

Boil one pot of noodles; drain; put in pan. Brown half of ground beef; put in pan. Put one bottle of sauce and half a bag of cheese in pan. Mix together. Half the pan is now full. Repeat: noodles, beef, sauce, cheese in pan. Mix everything together. I now have a very full pan of baked ziti. That took 30+ minutes to put together. (Again, at home, it should've taken 10 minutes with everything running concurrently.)

Finally all the prep work is done. I can relax, get ready, and go. I arrive at the party. I put the ziti in the oven (with some freshly sprinkled cheese on top) for 10 minutes to get it fully warm (since it was still partially warm from being freshly made).




Part of the spread





And it's finally time to eat. There is a veritable hodgepodge of people: six Americans, three English, one Scottish, one Mexican, three Italian, and two Spanish. And we did not fail to bring food. There was quite the cornucopia of food: roasted chicken, baked ziti, chili, potato salad, rice salad, corn salad, mashed potatoes, "English breakfast" (potato, bacon, egg mixture), quiche, bread and cheese, potimarron (red kuri squash), wine and beer. We ate well. And we Americans shared with the others the glorious tradition of stuffing yourself to the brim...

...and then came dessert. Yes, ladies and gentleman, there were desserts aplenty, too: my whipped cream and cookie dessert, crêpes (Nutella, confiture, sugar), no-bake Nutella cookies, apple pie, tiramisu, and shortbread. Every single thing was homemade. Yes: homemade crêpes (great), homemade [from-scratch] apple pie (greater), homemade tiramisu (greaterer), etc. And we Americans shared with the others the glorious tradition of finding room for dessert even when stuffed.


All in all, we had a great time. It was good food shared with great company. Actually, great food shared with greater company. So here's to every one of you who made it a great Thanksgiving, even this far away from home and family. *Raises glass*  Cheers. In the end, all my time and effort was worth it.


Except that there was so much food that no one dish was completely finished...and half of my ziti remained...along with three-quarters of my dessert...


...Next year I'm just bringing plates and napkins.


Friday, November 2, 2012

Ça va? Ça va.

Do you know how to speak French? No? Well, fear not! I've developed a very easy, very quick Introductory Course to the French language. I guarantee you that within 10 seconds - yes, I said 10 seconds! - you can be conversing with a native speaker with no problems*. Maintaining an entire conversation, asking questions, answering questions, and more!

*You might not understand exactly what you're saying, but the native speaker will understand. And it will be a perfectly legitimate conversation.

How is this possible, you ask? I'll tell you. My program hinges on the magic and power of two little words: ça va. Pronounced "sa va." Ça va. Got it? Good, then there you are: course completed. (That'll be $39.95, and I don't take checks.)

What's that? You want Intro to French: Part Deux? Well, that course takes a little bit longer. A minute, maybe two. For we go into detail about how to use "ça va" and what it means / why it works.

The reason that this simple two-word phrase works so well is because it means so many different things. Directly translated, it means "it goes / it's going." But it can mean so much more: "I'm doing fine / I'm alright," "it's OK," "that's enough / that's good," etc. AND, when inflected up at the end, it becomes a multipurpose question. Ça va? "How are you?," "Things going alright?," "Does that work for you?," "Is that [apparatus] working?," etc. Its beauty rests in its generic-ness. You can even split the two words and use ça as "this/that" and va as "go." Or mix, match and add to show emphasis: Ça va, ça? - "Are you SURE that's alright? That?!"

BHL
Therefore, when approached by a native French speaker, you can employ these two words and carry on a perfectly acceptable conversation with them. They will be so impressed with your French astuteness, they might even invite you over for some wine and cheese and a discussion on the ideas of Bernard-Henri Lévy. (Or, "BHL" as they call him. I guess he merits an acronym. Like NPH.)

I will give you an example of one such possible conversation to be held between YOU and a Native French Speaker (NFS). First I will give the terribly complex English version, and then I will show you how simple the conversation becomes in French.

[Meeting at a restaurant for lunch]
NFS:  Hey! How are you?
YOU: I'm good! How's it going?
NFS:  Not bad, not bad. How was your weekend?
YOU: It went pretty well. How about yours?
NFS:  Can't complain. *points to a scratch on your head* You OK?
YOU: This? *points to head* Yeah, no problem. It's feeling better.
NFSThat's not hurting you, really?! OK, if it's fine...
YOU: No pain, not at all.
NFS*indicating water glass* You need a refill?
YOU: No, I've got enough.
NFS:  That's enough? You sure?
YOU: OK, go ahead... *pours* ...That's plenty.
NFS:  Oh, there's (my friend) Ava!
AVA:  Hi! How ya doing?
NFS:  I'm great! Ava, this is YOU. YOU, that's Ava.
AVA:  Hello, how are you?
YOU: Great. Yourself?
AVA:  Doing well, too. *looking at food* How's your lunch?
NFS:  The food tastes good! [to YOU, pointing to table/meal] Uhh, is it OK...if Ava...joins us?
YOU: Yeah, sure. That works.
NFS:  Ava?
AVA:  Sounds good. *points to food* Is that dish any good?
YOU: Yeah, it's really tasty...

And now, for the perfectly legitimate French version. (Including liner notes, so you're not lost.)

[Meeting at a restaurant for lunch]
NFS:  Salut! Ça va?
YOU: Ça va! Ça va?
NFS:  Ça va, ça va. Le weekend, ça va?
YOU: Ça va. Ça va?
NFS:  Ça va. *points to a scratch on your head* Ça va?
YOU: Ça? *points to head* Ça va, ça va.
NFS:  Ça va, ça?! OK, Ça va...
YOU: Ça va, ça va.
NFS*indicating water glass* Ça va?
YOU: Ça va.
NFS:  Ça va, ça?
YOU: OK, va... *pours* ...Ça va. 
NFS:  Oh, Ava, ça!
AVA:  Salut! Ça va?
NFS:  Ça va. Ava - ça, YOU. YOU - ça, Ava.
AVA:  Salut! Ça va?
YOU: Ça va. Ça va?
AVA:  Ça va. *looking at food* Ça va?
NFS:  Ça va! [to YOU, pointing to table/meal] Uhh, Ça va...Ava...ça?
YOU: Ça va, ça va.
NFS:  Ava?
AVA:  Ça va. *points to food* Ça va, ça?
YOU: Ça va...

...Seriously. Go back and check each of these lines against the English version. I translated it line by line. (Although, you'd be hard pressed trying to reverse-engineer such a conversation from French into English. Results may vary.)

And there you are. You just participated in an entire conversation by only using two words. And if you understand those two words and the occasional salut (Hi) and weekend (weekend), you understood the entire conversation. You should be proud of yourself! And to think, it only took seconds of your day to learn, ça!

Sunday, October 21, 2012

Bonjour la Classe

As far as I know, the law of gravity still exists. So, no: I did not fall off the face of the Earth. Rather, I just happened to have started work and have been incorporating that into my schedule, and I didn't realize how long it had been since I posted a blog update. So, here you are.

The main thing I want to speak about is my job: teaching. Well, a teaching assistant. Ok, not really "teaching"...but rather a "language assistant" is what I'm called. I'm here to go to high school English classes to speak with the students and better their English by allowing them to speak to and hear a native speaker. It also gives them a way to ask questions and learn about American culture, education, etc. In addition, I will work with small groups in the classes and run through activities with them, dialogue with them on fictitious scenarios, and speak to them about business practices in America. (Some of the students are "BTS" - brevet de technicien supérieur - that is to say, they are high school graduates (post-baccalauréat) working on an advanced degree.)

My school has many, many English classes. I only work 12 hours a week. You do the math. They are wanting to me to see so many students, that I've been to a new class almost every single time for the past three weeks. This wouldn't be so bad if I was doing something engaging or actually working with the students. However, as anyone would be wont to do upon their first encounter with someone, the majority of my classes have been "Introduce Yourself" classes, with me speaking about myself and my life, and the students asking me questions. There are a few reasons why this is embêtant to me:

1 - Most of the students are often a) shy, b) nervous to speak English to someone who speaks it fluently, or c) too "cool" to participate in class. Which leads to many awkward silences when they aren't asking questions and their teachers are trying to prod them along.

2 - I basically get the same questions in every single class. From "How old are you?" to "Do you like French food?" - all the basics you could imagine. And when you've answered the same questions in 15 different classes, you get quite bored of yourself.

3 - On the rare occasion where there is a more interesting question, I am limited to how I can respond due to their (non)comprehension of the English language. For example, it's enough of a struggle to explain (in vocabulary that they will understand) their "universal healthcare" versus the American private system. So when they ask me how much it costs to go to a doctor, all I can say is "Pick a number between 0 and 100,000. Voila, someone has paid that much before." How can I explain copays and deductibles and in/out-of-network and HMOs and etc in a way that they'd understand? Hell, in America we have entire college courses - majors, even - dedicated to understanding that.

Now, don't get me wrong, I'm not complaining...much. It's a pretty sweet set up I have here - only teaching 12 hours per week (albeit for a less-than desirable pay, but it's something at least), and the rest of the time I'm left on my own to live la vie française. I've just grown tired of hearing my own voice talking about myself in the most boring fashion possible (to my ears, at least).

At first, I likened these "introduction" classes to continuously watching the most boring autobiographical film ever about yourself. Over and over again. However, I'd like to make a slightly better analogy. Consider the facts:
  • The students themselves are different in each class
  • They sometimes ask different questions, but the same "core" questions are always there
  • These "core" questions consist of a cursory look into my background, where I'm from, what I studied, my likes/dislikes, etc
  • There are perpetual awkward silences
  • Both parties are trying to fill the silent voids with something - anything - to help the time pass
Yes, ladies and gentleman, I think the better analogy would be to compare it to a string of unending, awkward first dates. Where you can tell neither of you is that interested, and you're just trying to get through the date. Look back over my list and you'll see that I'm correct. The only thing missing is that I don't have to pay the bill for a dinner.

Saturday, October 6, 2012

Santé! Scentez! Sans thé!

Am I perfect? Yes.

(Do I lie? Yes.)

So accept - and laugh at - my imperfection in the following tale:

I have a decent comprehension of the French language - from grammar to vocabulary to speaking it to hearing it. However, I do make the occasional mistake. (And I'm very loosely defining "occasional" - it's impinging on "often")

Much like in English (and probably every other spoken language), French has homophones. Words that sound the same, but have a different meaning. For example: bear/bare, to/too/two, and rays/raise/raze/rase/rehs/reis/res. Even picture/pitcher (depending on who you're talking to, Doug).

I have made homophonic comprehension mistakes in my conversations since I have been in Limoges, but none come as readily or hilariously to mind as the one that occurred during my last trip to France in 2008.

I was at a dinner party with my host family: eating, chatting and enjoying the evening on their rooftop terrace. Someone opened a bottle of wine, filled up our glasses, and then lifted his glass to the company - a nod and a smile were his toast to all. My host-mother then turned to me, proffered her glass and said, "Santé!" Which means "health," or in this situation, a toast "to your health." Seems innocuous and straightforward enough. Well...

Here's what you need to know. The word "santé" is pronounced "sawn-tay" (at least, that's the best approximation I can give for a non-French speaking pronunciation). Do you know what else is pronounced sawn-tay? The verb scenter (and it's imperative 2nd person conjugation scentez). Scenter means "to smell," and thus scentez is the command "smell!" or "smell this!" Do you see where I'm taking this?

So she extended her glass to me and said, "Santé!" But I heard "Scentez!" - "Smell!" So I did. I leaned forward and sniffed her wine glass. I assumed she just wanted me to better appreciate the wine or get my opinion on it. However, the look on her face indicated that I couldn't have been further from the truth. A quick "Um...didn't you say smell?" and a "No, I said to your health, as a toast!" later and she started busting out laughing. I don't blame her - I would have laughed at me, too. It was quite an amusing situation (in retrospect), and one of my favorite tales to tell of my trip.

So there you are. A tale of warning. Learn from my mistakes. If you ever hear something that doesn't make much sense/since/cents, you might want to take a second to stop and ponder it's homophones before acting on what you thought you heard. It could save you an embarrassing situation, but it also might cost you a funny story. Your choice.

(Having no bearing on this story, but interesting: there is a third homophone of santé that I thought of - sans thé which means "without tea." That would have made no sense in the situation, but if I thought that's what she had said, the reaction I would have given would have been less embarrassing - a puzzled look as to what she had said as opposed to me inhaling at the rim of her glass.)

-- -- -- -- --

Finally, for your viewing pleasure: a German immigrant who attempts to make sense of American idioms. His name is Flula, and once you watch one video, you will watch them all. Hilarious.



Saturday, September 29, 2012

Math! : A Quick Peek Inside My Brain

Dear every school child ever who said, "Why am I learning this math? I'll never use it in real life."

False. You will use all kinds of math on a daily basis. Calculating tax on your purchases (unless you're European, whose prices are all-inclusive), determining how much tip to leave (unless you're European, who don't tip), remembering all the ratios and conversions of weight and length measurements (unless you're European, who use the easily remembered Metric system, wherein you just move the decimal place). See? All the time!...(unless you're European.)
Essentially, all my supplies

Regardless, I thought I was going to have to use some math skills to prepare my dinner the other night. As I may or may not have mentioned, the only utensils and cooking implements that came with my apartment were: one (1) frying pan, one (1) pot, two (2) plates, two (2) bowls, two (2) small glasses, one (1) coffee cup, two (2) knives, two (2) forks, three (3) spoons and one (1) spatula. Note the absence of a measuring cup.

So, I was attempting to make some "just add boiling water to this powder" soup. The instructions called for 175mL (milliliters) of water to be added to the powder. Again, I did not have a measuring cup. However, what I did have were some empty bottles, including some 25cL (centiliters) Panach' bottles and a 50cL Evian bottle. And I was quickly recalled to those classic math teasers, similar to the one you may have seen in Die Hard with a Vengeance - the water jug problem.

And here is my legitimate, actual thought process:

"I can do this," I tell myself. "Ok, first of all, 1 cL = 10 mL, easy enough. So what I have are a 250mL (25cL) and a 500mL (50mL) bottle. Also, I have my coffee cup which is...*fills up 250mL bottle, pours into cup, goes right to the top*...also exactly 250mL. Hrm, so I need 175mL. Half of 250 is 125. These drink bottles are oddly shaped, but I could precisely gauge "half" of this perfectly cylindrical 250mL coffee mug to reach that 125mL. [I could tear a strip of paper the same length as the height of the cup, then fold it in half to find the exact center point; ie, half of the cup, thus 125mL.] So, if I can get 125mL of the 175mL I need, that just leaves 50mL more. That's 1/5 of the 250mL or 1/10 of the 500mL. That's slightly more challenging, and, unfortunately these containers are in multiples of each other (250*2=500), so it's not as easy as the 3gallon and 5gallon to get 4gallons in Die Hard with a Vengeance. Although, I do have this coffee cup which I can use to find 125mL. So, if I have my 500mL full, and pour into the coffee cup until it's half full, that would be 500-125=375mL left in the 500mL container. Well, unfortunately there seems to be no way to get exactly 50mL. I guess I could fill the 250mL coffee cup and then proportion it out equally between five of the Panach' bottles, making sure the water levels all line up. And that's 250/5=50mL that I need..."

A luxury
By this time, the water had started boiling. And that's when I realized that I was measuring water for soup, not measuring rocket fuel for a spaceflight. And that I get waaay too caught up in solving a problem when it's not that important. So what I ended up doing was just eyeballing half of coffee cup (125mL) and then eyeballed 1/5 to 1/4 (right around the 50mL I needed). After all...soup, not rocket fuel.

Ok, so I didn't actually do that much math. But I *almost* did. So, stay in school, kids. Or...move to Europe. Whatever.


Also, if someone had told me how nasty the "soup" was going to be, I wouldn't have wasted my time thinking about it. I wouldn't even have wasted boiling the water to make it. I ate about three spoonfuls and then threw out the rest. (And then I tried to calculate how much water was in those three spoonfuls....kidding.)

-- -- -- -- -- --

I'm sorry if you came here for actual math and were sorely disappointed. I won't leave you that way. I'll leave you with an actual math problem that I ironically came across in the book I was reading - Simple Genius by David Baldacci - on the same day as my kitchen mathematics:

"Suppose I'm a grandfather, and I have a grandson who is about as many days old as my son is weeks old. And my grandson is as many months old as I am in years. Together, we all are 140 years old. How old am I (the grandfather) in years?"

Have fun! and STOP HERE if you want to do the problem on your own. Otherwise, read below to follow the method I took. At the very bottom is the answer.

-- --- -- -- -- --


Here's my approach:

Variables:
O=grandfather (old), S=son, Y=grandson (young)
d=age in days, w=age in weeks, m=age in months, y=age in years

Assumptions (facts):
7 days = 1 week
52 weeks = 1 year
12 months = 1 year

The Problem / Givens (in equation format):
Yd = Sw ... (Grandson is as many days old as son is weeks old)
Ym = Oy ... (Grandson is as many months old as grandfather is years old)
Yy + Sy + Oy = 140 ... (All three ages together are 140 years old)

The Solution:
Ym = 12Yy   [fact]
Ym = Oy   [given]
thus
12Yy = Oy   [1]

Yy + Sy + Oy = 140   [given]
using [1] substitution
Yy + Sy + 12Yy = 140   [2]

Sw = 52Sy   [fact]
Yd = Sw   [given]
thus
Yd = 52Sy
Sy = Yd/52   [3]

Yd = Yy*52*7   [fact, days = years * 52weeks/year *7 days/week]
Yd = 364Yy   [4]

Combining [3] and [4]
Sy = Yd/52 = (364Yy)/52 = 7Yy
Sy = 7Yy   [5]

Yy + Sy + 12Yy = 140   [from [2]]
substitute [5]
Yy + 7Yy + 12Yy = 140
20Yy = 140
Yy = 7   [6]

12Yy = Oy   [from [1]]
substitute [6]
12*7 = Oy
Oy = 84   [7]

Yy + Sy + Oy = 140   [given]
sub [6] and [7]
7 + Sy + 84 = 140
Sy = 49   [8]

So there you are. The grandfather is 84 years old. The son is 49 years, and the grandson 7 years.

Thursday, September 27, 2012

Of Cults and Humanity

So, today someone definitely attempted to talk to me about joining what I can only interpret to be a cult.

As I was walking down the street this morning, there was a couple - probably in their 50s or 60s - standing on the sidewalk, holding a book, just staring around. As I approached them, I assumed they were from out of town and needed directions. Sure enough, as I near them, they make to talk to me, so I remove my earbuds and prepare myself to be able to say where the library is, or else, "Sorry, I'm not from here, I can't help you. Here's a map."

La Révélation d'Arès
Oh how wrong was my assumption. She started off by indicating the book she was holding - La Révélation d'Arès - and asking if I was familiar with it or its author, Michel Potay. I say no, and she starts into her spiel...I can't even remember what all she said. But the gist was essentially, "Well, we're a spiritual group - not religious, because that sometimes scares people. We believe in being kind to everyone and helping mankind. We have meetings and outings sometimes at X Y Z place, and the book is available in stores, if you're interested..." And I was about to just politely brush her off and say "no thanks," but then I figured, what the hay, no harm in listening to her talk for awhile; after all, it is in French and I'm here to better my French. Plus this will probably make a good story.

And it does. She continues to talk, and that's when I start to realize this probably really is some type of cult..."A little history on us: Jesus came to France during the 70's - 40 times between Jan.15 and April.13, 1974 to be exact - and talked to Brother Michael (the author) about such and such. And then God manifested himself in visions to Brother Michael - five times between Oct.2 and Nov.22, 1977. And he wrote this book, revealing what was told to him and how we should live our lives. And it doesn't matter if you believe or not, what matters is that this book can show us how to make the world a better place. Basically we believe, 'the solution to the problems on Earth is found in the heart of the individual, whether they're a believer or not, and not in the dogmas and laws of the masses; man can do without religious and political systems to change himself for the better, and as a result, change the world.'*"

[*Can't remember her exact words, but this is what a statement on their website says (translated by yours truly), and what she said was basically the same thing, but more detailed.]

Me, all the while she's talking
And so it continued for a good 10 minutes while I just stood there and listened. Eventually it started to rain, and her spiel was coming to a close, so she took that moment to say thanks for listening, here's a pamphlet, have a good day.

Look, I'm all for being a better person, helping others, being a benefit to humankind, and etc. But I'm pretty sure I can do that on my own. If I did it with them, I'm sure I'd be invited to drink some Kool-Aid or clean some carpets at some point in time.

But, if you are interested in learning more of what I heard, here's their website: http://www.revelation-ares.info/ (only in French, unfortunately). And for a little more info on them, as translated from their pamphlet: "Who are we? We are believers and humanists with an intense spiritual life who base their personal and social lives on La Révélation d'Arès. From different and diverse social and cultural backgrounds, we are forming a natural movement of free and progressive faith, non-religious and non-political, without leaders or a hierarchy, with no other rules for personal and social conduct except to practice good."

So, that was a fun morning. Hope you enjoyed the tale. I'll talk to you guys later - I'm off to go have my feet read by reincarnated Jesus/Buddha...

Wednesday, September 26, 2012

France vs. USA

And now a list of things I've come across that are different in France than in America. For your general knowledge and your reading pleasure:



-Ice. What is ice? I'm not sure the French know. I literally have yet to see an ice cube anywhere. Not in the restaurants or anything. They simply do not use the stuff. I miss ice.

-It is not uncommon at restaurants to be seated at the same table as strangers. They're "efficient" that way, I guess. If there's a table with 8 chairs, they will sit you and your friend at the end, and then a party of three right beside you, and then another party of two at the other end. All at the same table. Bon appetit.

-Similarly, when you get a drink at a restaurant, they don't subscribe to the whole "fountain drink" idea. They bring you a glass and a can/bottle of soda/beer/water. And that is your drink for the meal - drink sparingly. Some places will have a 'carafe d'eau' or water-pitcher for the table, which is free and replenishable. But their drinks are expensive...like 2 or 3 bucks for a bottle of soda or bottle of water with your meal. (And, yes, you heard me, pretty much every restaurant has beer/wine as a drink selection, even in the morning/afternoon. And yes people drink it.)

The word "ubiquitous" mean anything to you?
-People also smoke all the time. More so than in America, obviously. But there are "tabac" stores everywhere - basically a convenience store that pretty much only sells tobacco products, lotto tickets, newspapers and drinks. Every corner. And the high schoolers smoke. Right outside the school doors. Seriously, walk by a high-school at any point in the day and they'll be out there smoking. It's the norm. Also, you will be assailed on an hourly basis on the streets with people asking if you have an extra cigarette or a light. So I think I'm going to start wearing a sandwich board that says "Je ne fume pas" (I don't smoke) in order to make my walking around town less bothersome.

-There are also Pharmacy's all over the place. I'm not really sure why, but they're everywhere. And they're not even like a CVS with a selection of convenience store products and etc...it's just medicine. And there's one on every street. I haven't decided if the French are the healthiest or the sickest people on the planet.

-More building found everywhere: We Buy Gold! stores, small grocery stores (with 8-10 aisles), driving schools, and random museums/exhibits of all sizes. (This was a sandwich shop yesterday...Well, now it's an exhibit on Limoges' porcelain plates from the 1950s.)

-I am recalled to the Dave Chappelle bit about figuring out he's in the ghetto, "Gun store, gun store, liquor store, gun store - wait, we're in the ghetto!" Except here it's like, "Tabac, tabac, pharmacy, cafe, cafe, pharmacy...whoa, we're in France!"

You can see the "listings" on the windows.
-Also found all over the place are real-estate offices. There's really not that much real-estate in the city (since it is an actual city), but these buildings are everywhere. And what they do is have their listings printed out on info sheets and stuck to their windows. So you'll see people stopping at these windows all the time to look at the listings...but I have yet to see anyone actually go into one of these storefronts. I don't know how they're paying their building rent, honestly.


-Speaking of going into buildings: every single shop has their own hours. Yes, that's kind of true in America, but at least in the US, you know that business workplaces will usually be open 9-5 during the week, and customer service / food / retail will be open 9-9ish. Here, everyone just decides when they want to be open. They all have their hours printed on their doors. It is not uncommon to see: "Mon: 11-5, Tues: 10-2 and 4-7, Wed: Closed, Thurs: 3-7, Fri: 10-3 and 5-7, Sat: 10-4, Sun: Closed." I am not kidding. Every. Single. Store. Bookstore, craft store, optometrist, burger joint, grocery store, library, gov't building, driving school, etc.

-Their grocery stores aren't huge superstores like we have. The majority of their "big" ones are more similar to our medium sized, and those are found on the outskirts of town (where you'd need a car to get to). The grocery stores in the city are smaller, and often times they are further broken down in to specialized stores: bread shop, wine shop, cheese shop, frozen foods shop (seriously, there is one beside my apartment), etc.

-I know bread-wine-cheese is a French stereotype. But it exists because it's TRUE. Every grocery store will have a whole wall of fresh bread every day. Baguettes of all sizes and all types of grain/wheat. Wine? Even the small grocery stores will dedicate an entire aisle to wine. And don't get me started on cheese...they have a thousand different flavors and everywhere you turn there is more cheese. I'm serious. Look at the following picture of my first grocery store trip - keep in mind my French teacher-contact was with me making suggestions and putting things in my cart. It is almost half comprised of cheese:

A: Cheese-flavored chips, B: Individual cheese for eating / use on baguette, C: Grated-cheese (3 packs!) for putting on pasta, D: A hunk of cheese because why not ... the only reason I didn't have sliced cheese for my sandwiches was because I insisted I had enough

-Also, the restaurants all have their menus posted in their windows with the prices (and if not, at least their main items or something like "Appetizer+Entree+Dessert = 14 Euro" on a chalkboard outside.) So it's the norm just to walk down the street, stop and look at a menu, and continue on walking if it doesn't suit you. That's kind of nice.

-Eating. When you eat, they are not in a rush, and you are not in a rush. They will take their time to serve you, but it's not rude, it's just the lifestyle. Equally, you can sit at your table for however long you want after you're done eating and they will not feel agitated or try to usher you out. It's partially their more ... 'respectful' (?)... approach to eating and leisure time. (As evidenced by their store hours, and the fact that schools and workplaces have lunches that can be 2+ hours long). It's also due in part to the fact that...

-...you don't really tip in France. I know, it seems exceptionally odd, but it's just how they operate. I assume their waitstaff gets paid better than ours on an hourly basis, obviously, but it still strikes me as odd. I remembered this from my studies and being here last time...but even so, I tipped my cab driver (from train station to hotel), and it wasn't a big tip (like, one Euro), and he was still shocked, and didn't really know what to do. Oh well, I guess that offsets the higher prices of food and whatnot.

-Those base prices being more like 6-8Euro ($9-12) for a burger/sandwich combo at a somewhat quick restaurant or cafe, and 12-18Euro ($20-28) for an app+entree+dessert at a somewhat 'casual dining' place. I have yet to eat at a more expensive place, but I'm sure they exist. I can avoid them, however, by paying attention to their prices/menus posted on their door :)

-And their money is different, obviously. Euros, not dollars.

Typical street lined with cafes
-Also, cafes are everywhere. Since this is a city (like big cities in US, I'm sure), all the storefronts are part of the same building, so you will see a cafe squished between a myriad of other stores all up and down the streets. But many times in a "square" (like, townsquare, etc), you will be surrounded by cafes on top of cafes, most having the majority of their seating outside with little room inside.

-You hear cafe, you think coffee. Yes, they drink coffee all the time. Much like many Americans, they will drink it in the morning and late morning. And afternoon. And they have coffee machines at work. And those vending-machine, one-serve-cup coffee things in buildings, too. And at every meal it's almost understood that you will have a coffee (usually an espresso) at the end of the meal. Too bad I don't really drink coffee.

-Speaking of meals and pricing...taxes are included in everything. Whether at a restaurant or the grocery store or the mall, when you see a price of 14,50Euro - it will cost you exactly fourteen-Euros and fifty-cents, no more, no less. So that's really nice that you always know what you're getting into and the math is easy.

-And no, you did not misread, I did type "14,50" with a comma. Because they inverse the commas and periods in numbers over here. A price tag is 14,50 or 1450 NOT $14.50. One million is 1.000.000, NOT 1,000,000.

-Also, their telephones are ten digits, listed in sets of two: 05.55.45.62.14 for example. And the date months/days are switched: Sept 25, 2012 = 25/9/12. And they use military time: 2pm = 14h. They also use an "h" instead of a colon...9:30am = 9h30

-Their addresses are similar to ours, but their street signs are not on poles. They are on placards/signs that are affixed to the side/corner of the building on that street. And they're blue squares, as opposed to green skinny rectangles. And many of their streets are named after someone famous, and will have the dates they lived and why they were famous (mayor, mathematician, etc) listed on bottom of sign.

The view from my hotel. Note the cars.
-And what will you see on these roads? Yes, pedestrians - it is a city, after all. But as far as cars go: if you've seen one, you've seen them all. Seriously, I can honestly say that 95% of their cars are all small sedans similar to a Ford Fiesta or Nissan Versa. They are all manual and they are all hatchbacks. I have seen literally ZERO trucks or SUVs, maybe one or two vans, and one or two cars bigger than the norm (like a CR-V or other crossovers). But yeah, it doesn't matter the brand: Citroen, Peugeot, Renault (or even the occasional Ford or Honda)...they are all the same car. One of these things isn't not like the others; one of these things isn't not the same...

-Also, if you were confused: the French drive on the right side of the road like Americans. It's the Brits that drive on the wrong side - er, left side - not all of Europe.

-What else random...when you walk into a restaurant or shop of any kind you always say "Bonjour" to the people who are working. Always. Even if you're just browsing or know exactly what you're looking for, or if they seem busy, whether they see you or not, or whatever. You always walk in and say "Bonjour." You do the same to anyone anytime you meet them for a mere moment - in an elevator, standing in a room with them for more than 3 seconds, entering an office full of people. It's just what you do.

Faire la bise
 -When you meet people, you do the cheek-kiss: faire la bise. It's like a handshake over here. They still do handshakes and not everyone kisses (and not strangers), but it's very much a part of life...girl/boy, girl/girl, boy/boy, friends, colleagues, family, etc. Depending on what part of France you're in, it's one, two, three or four kisses. (Limoges is two.) And you don't actually kiss the cheek, just the air beside the cheek.

-And they have different pronouns for "you" (like other languages) to use depending on your relationship with the person. "Tu" is more informal whereas "vous" is more formal and respectful.

-Also, they don't do big trips to grocery store like us. More so, they will stop by every day or every other day and pick up what they need to restock. Mainly baguettes and fruits/vegetables.

-Due to how they process or package it (not sure), they sell milk unrefrigerated, and you don't need to refrigerate it until after you open it.

Shopping bag from "Carrefour" grocery.
-And they don't give out plastic or paper bags. You have to bring your own reusable grocery bag. (They do sell them at the store, but you buy one and keep bringing it with you until it dies). Also, for those "bigger" trips, they have bags that are similar in shape and size to a small suitcase that you can pull your groceries home in. I know it's the norm here, but it's still amusing to me to see a huge, 6-foot tall, jacked muscle guy with a crew cut and a square jaw pulling around a floral pattern basket with baguettes and pink toilet paper sticking out the top.

-Yeah, their toilet paper is pink. And their flushers are often times not levers, put rather a button on top that you push, or a 'dipstick'-type thing that you pull up.

-And if you need to use a public restroom, be prepared to pay. Sure they have them in restaurants for free, but the bathrooms in parks or train stations or stand-alone in the street, it will cost you between 50c and a dollar.

-In many buildings and houses, the toilet is in one room and the shower/sink is in another.

-And shower curtains aren't necessarily used. Most showers have the removable shower heads that you can use to "hose yourself off" or whatever, and I guess they don't think you need a curtain for that. My last time here, my host family did not have a curtain. This time I do...but it's pathetic - it doesn't cover the whole gap, and it's made of the same material as a cheap, plastic picnic tablecloth, no lie.
French power outlet

-Electric outlets are different.

-Air conditioning is more rare than common. Heat they have. But AC is a 'luxury', and if you do have it, it's often a window box (not central air).

-And they seem cold all the time. I see people wearing sweaters and jackets on top of them when it's 70 degrees out. I'm interested to see what winter will be like. Perhaps they hibernate, like bears.

-Male fashion? They are slightly more "fashionable" with less t-shirts and jeans (though you do still see them). But they also accept man-pri's (capri's for men), scarves whenever, man purses (almost every guy around her has one), skinny jeans, etc. I haven't seen too many berets, though.

-Their school hours are from 8-6, but with a long lunch break therein.

-They are very gesticulate (making gestures) with their hands and mouths/faces when they're talking. And onomatopoeia words are just as important as actual words. I literally overhead an exchange that was verbatim: "Ah, salut, vous ah-ah-ah, le, le, le brrrrreeeeh, shtick-shtack, eh?" "Mais, non avec le tac-tac-tac, baaah, mais, oui le cahaaahaa, cleeeek. Tchatchatcha."

-They have ketchup-flavored potato chips, and ketchup is a condiment offered at their Subway's - a common one, too, judging by how many people got it on their sandwich while I was waiting in line there. Though I have yet to see or be offered any ketchup packets or ketchup bottles at restaurants where they serve burgers, fries, etc.

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Every time I come across a new French idiosyncrasy, I recall myself back to the title of a book we read in college called "Pas si fous, ces Francais!" - "They're not so crazy, these French!" - that explains these differences. So, I try to tell myself they're not crazy, they're just different. They're French. After all, we must look pretty silly to them. I bet they have a book called "Not so crazy, just American!" And they probably have blog posts similar to mine:

-These Americans, I tell you... Ice. This stuff is everywhere. Yes, ice - as in, snow and glaciers. They use it all the time, especially at restaurants. Where they also refill your drink NON-STOP...it's a wonder they don't have to pee all the time. (Which, if they did, it'd be okay because they don't charge for their bathrooms, which is nice.) And then I tried to kiss a guy I just met, and he punched me in the face...