Women are Heroes - Nuit Blanche

Women are Heroes exhibit in Paris during Nuit Blanche (October 3, 7pm - October 4, 7am)

Having presented his portraits of women in Brazil, Liberia, Sierra Leone, Cambodia, India, Belgium, Britain and other countries, JR is showing the whole of his «Women» exhibition for the first time.

After «Portraits of a Generation», inspired by events in the suburbs of Paris, and «Face 2Face», which was displayed in the Middle East, «Women» is the third phase of the 28 Millimetre project, taking its name from the wide-angle lens that requires the photographer to be only centimetres from the model in order to take the portrait.

WOMEN ARE HEROES



WOMEN grew out of many pictures and few words. JR’s words were necessary, of course, to convince more than 70 women around the world to take part in the project. JR went to meet those living in the shadows, the real pillars of their societies despite daily violence, wars or simply discrimination. His desire to shift certain limits by using unusual places allows him to deal with subjects in the news in an innovative way. From 3 October to 2 November, through this exhibition and a book, people will learn all about this adventure that took JR to ten countries on four continents.

Between 4 papers, a few notes

NUMERO UNO: HAPPY BIRTHDAY HERMANA MIA!!!! You look one day more beautiful! xoxo


1) Don't believe the hype. The world is not filled with terrorists out to get the USA. It *is* filled with people who dispise Bush and think Americans are stupid for re-electing him. But don't believe the Republican Presidential candidates when they say "be very afraid, cower, they're coming with the Atom bomb, you must hire me to protect you." And if the Dems start saying that, by god, call 'em on it.

2) I am growing a bit tired of defending or explaining my country of birth (notice: not country of growth or country of favorite countries or country where I chose to stay to do my grad work because damnit it's so great). I try in broken French to explain how I am fed up with Bush and how sorry I am for all the damage he's done to the world. I try to feel calm when a speaker/lecturer/person with whom I am speaking says several negative things in a row (almost all justified) about "America" when really they mean "Many of America's Administrations and A Lot of America's Bad Movies and Most of the Commercialism That You've Exported or Allowed Leave Your Country or Voted into Office." Also, we need to start remembering to dissociate America from The United States. My fellow Americans, from Canada to Mexico to Colombia to Chile to Argentina, don't like being associated with the America of Imposed Democracy of the US Flavor. And, *I* am not American or United Statesian in that fashion. I tell them (when it's appropriate - I'm not about to raise my hand during a workshop and say, "I'd like to clarify here that *I* in fact worked for 6 years to fight Bush's policies and didn't sleep for weeks in order to get my own state Wisconsin to vote blue." It would be tacky to turn the spotlight on me), yes, I do tell them that I did do those things and that I don't buy into buying big cars and big houses and more and more and more and more. I reduce, reuse, recycle - do you, Mr/Ms Frenchy? (Such a disapointment to see the paper mixed with the banana peels.) I tell them I don't think the Iraq or Afghan wars were justified and I supported legislators who said so, but it would be a fuckall if we ditched the countries without some kind of support structure (excuse the French). I try to tell them that I'd like to make the world a better place but usually I feel like that's a bit overstating my own powers - and seems very American - what's a better place? From whose perspective?

3) The restaurant on the corner is owned by an Indian. The shisha bars are owned by Moroccans. The new, single bed was delievered - and kindly put together - by Algerians. The boulangeries are run by French. A lot of the prostitutes and their pimps in the hotel next door are Russians. There are two massage parlors (with happy endings I think) across the street owned by Thais. My tailor and his assistant are Turk and Romanian respectively. Around the corner I've got super fried juicy Chinese food made by Chinese folks. Downstairs a few doors over, a Japanese restaurant. The woman who presses clothes in the laundromat is Colombian. Yes, I really am living and going to school in international, real world places. I don't know that I would have gotten quite this exposure in Chicago, Philly, or even London. Although, I might not get this kind of living community in other arrondissements either.

4) I am proscrastinating my papers.

5) Paris hit 32F today. It doesn't feel that cold to me though. Probably due to the lack of snow. I can see my breath outside and it's super grey cloudy. But NO SNOW! YAY!!!!

6) I got my packages in the mail today - 2 people in front of me in line only! Then again, I was at the poste at 1pm. Also, PP & Family - he said it'd take a week. Hm. Curious. I'd like to see how true this is.

7) I made a law! Or at least, that's what I want on my invisible gravestone. And a do-gooder law at that. Ok, ok, I didn't make it, and I certainly didn't make it alone and it isn't a law yet, but I did help make the "Compassionate Care for Rape Victims" bill and get it through the Wisconsin legislature in 6 years. I stayed up until 1am to catch the Assembly floor debate but they were in caucus that time. So, I asked my rockstar ex-colleagues to ping me on Skype when they went to the floor on our issue. Slept until about 5am when Andrea pinged me to wake up! wake up! wake up! Only they weren't on our issue yet. So I napped until 6am (I had already emailed my French prof that I wouldn't be in class). Woke up miraculously to the quiet call on Skype again. Got to hear the whole twisted, ugly, wonderful floor debate. Some legislators - even women - can be assholes toward rape survivors. It's shocking really. Thank goodness for the WI Eye though because now people can see them being so in real time - and later... for advertisements... or additional public viewing.... at crucial times... like maybe... election season. And again, I was in admiration of my ex-intern superstar, who during the 2nd month of her year+ long internship started speaking out about her own experience with sexual assault and the empowerment of being offered a decision about her own life through the question "Would you like to take a pregnancy preventative, Emergency Contraception?" More than I, SHE made the law.

8) We've had all the presentations on our dual-degree partners: London School of Economics, Colombia in NYC, Hertie in Berlin, Lee Kuan Yew in Singapore. While I feel like I should go to Hertie in Berlin for all the practical reasons (cost, cost, cost), I think I need to follow the goals and dreams and stay here. It's exciting when people ask me if I'm going home for the holidays and I say, "Nope, I'm here for two years!" I don't think people understand it really. Why don't I want to go home? Why don't my parents love me anymore? Why doesn't my sister miss me? How could I spend the holidays ALONE? How could I not want to go BACK to my country? - I see this flash quickly across their faces. And I follow my statement up, "I told them, if they want to see me, they have to come to Paris! .. So sad, isn't it? Forced to visit Paris." and then "It's really not unusual for my family. Being in the military, we travelled a lot and spent a lot of holidays outside of the States. Plus, I'll see them next spring. Yes, I've spent Christmas away from my family. Actually, that Christmas in Portugal was momentarily kind of hard. About 4 of us exchange students were travelling in Lisboa and it was pouring rain and we took turns huddling under the umbrella and making the long-distance call home. What really got me was hearing my whole, extended family at my grandparents' farm. That's what I missed. But it's a bit different now. I'll miss them, but I'm SO excited to be away from the US and be in a foreign language country. Also, I might go to Madrid for Xmas. And, I've got friends in Paris who have all graciously offered me to join them for any holidays I can. So, no, my family haven't stopped loving me. No, I don't really want to go home yet. Nope, I won't be alone - if anything I'm sure like any other country, the Chinese restaurants are open on the 25th... Although, this IS France where no one works on Sundays so who knows!"

9) Get food in french - check. Use public transport in french - check. Get different sizes of bras (insisting on using my foreign language) in french - check. Write an email in horrible french to my cool banker - check. Give a 5 min presentation on immigrants to France from 1800s-1914 in french - check. Go to the doctor in french and not die - check. Get appropriate medications and submit the receipts for reimbursement in french - check. Get wonderful wine weekly from the corner 'cave' in french - check. Order awesome cheese in french for faux thanksgiving dinner - check. Re-order minutes on my cellphone by listening to automated prompting operator chick in french - check. Explain my political "aslyum" in french - check. Know when to ignore 'em, when to hold 'em, when to walk away, when to run in french - check. Get a date in french - check. Turn someone down in french - check. Tried to slyly weasel the student rate at the Club Med gym to a guy who turned veiny and red-faced at the thought of *me* being 32 and trying to scam the *under 28* student rate, dude, I said, it's only a question, calme, I'm not trying to make you angry in french - check. Okay, I think I've officially passed culture shock and have moved into somewhat-self-sufficiency in a foreign language. Next step is, I'm sure, The Big Argument on the street or with some kind of administrative personnel. Or, maybe The Emergency - like a pipe bursts or something comes flying through the window. I know I can call my landlord, but sometime I'd like to see if I can hack it. This would be like, Level 9 of French As French Do.

10) There are some really cool things happening around the city right now and I hope I get to catch some of them sometime (aside from the cool thing like, getting my hair trimmed because it's growing so fast!). There's this new exhibit at the national library releasing France's huge collection of erotica. "France's official hoard of erotica and pornography, lovingly assembled by the Bibliothèque Nationale over a period of 170 years, will be thrown open to the startled eyes of the public for the first time this week." ... Then there's the Academie de Musique which I won't be able to catch for the holiday season but will try for spring 08.

But for now... I need to stop procrastinating.

Happy holidays, everyone!!

xoxo

Meanwhile back at the office...

I'm working on editing and uploading and naming over 400 photos. Yes, you see I'm not fond of tossing any of them out. Each one, in its mundane blurriness is still something I saw and captured in time. And really the photos are for me - not you, my darling readers. So, feel free to sort through the Flickrs and skip what you will. I take no offense.

While I'm tweaking all the sights, I'd like to entertain you with this fabulous blog I found. Start here and then work your way around. It's a different take on living in Paris, which I'm finding is, to each person, their own horror or bliss or mediocrity. There's the quest for survival (I've dropped a few pounds which I was only housing for Wisconsin winters anyway) balanced with the need to communicate (I've got a few French friends) settling with the need to enjoy life (a nice pair of black jeans so I can blend in a bit, an 11E bottle of wine to get a small step out of the gutter of 4E) all topped off with the beginning of classes and the intricacies of helping to create a new program.

I'm in the upper, older age range and the honeymoon of hanging out with some of the younger, more self-focused colleagues has worn off. I'm finding myself cringing when accidentally herded together. (I'd like to ask Professor Erhard Friedberg, the director of our program and director of the C.S.O. Centre de Sociologie des Organisations, to explain this accidental grouping phenomenon. I meander out of a classroom or lecture hall to find myself ending up in certain cliques, or I meander out and find myself surrounded by certain people - often the same people. I'd like to re-route whatever forces are at work here because otherwise I might kill some of my colleagues before we even get to finals.)

So, orientation went off without a hitch but with hell of a burden. I am a legal student allowed to stay in this country for a year and can travel to other countries without being seized at the border and refused re-entry to France - although, as I pointed out to someone concerned about this - how bad would it be to stuck in Germany or Spain? I mean, c'mon, it's not the Midwest! I am also legally registered for classes and have allowed the school to automatically withdraw funds from my wonderful French bank account (which also took quite a toll to achieve).

Now, to figure out how to get the Navigo pass to get on and off metros and buses without paying an arm and a leg, also to get on and off Velib bikes. And to buy a cell phone plan instead of paying for minutes added on each month (expensive). To price out a gym (which looks like a no-go for me since almost ALL the discounts in this country go to students - UNDER 28 - ageists!!!).

Last weekend our class got on a bus and went to the Valley of the Loire (which I ended up just calling Valley of the Dolls in my head - doubting that any of my younger colleagues would get the joke). It wasn't the awe-inspiring, fireworks and angels singing, "Ahhhhhhleeeeeluuuujahhhhhh." But it definitely helped me place my thinking brain into a framework (a lovely biz word these days) for public affairs. I'll post a few of the activities and let you find out your own skills and ways of thinking.

It was absolutely beautiful to get out of the city and into the country. This wasn't mountains and rolling hills, but fresh grass and chilly, autumn air and colorful trees. We got to swing by a castle and rest in the park. I love the city, I love Paris, but I'm a nature girl at heart, too. (Despite the fact that every time I'm alone in nature I'm completely freaked out by the idea of wildebeasts or wild boars or rabies-ridden bear attacking me.)

And, of course, we also had wine. I have no idea what kind of wine as it came out of a handy spout in the dining area. Red or pink - choose your color.

So, now the first week of classes. It's interesting to mix the 1st year and 2nd year students in one building for courses (2nd years = students who attended Sciences Po last year or came from the dual-degree programs at Columbia SIPA, London's LSE, or Berlin's Hertie, or Singapore's Lee Kuan Yew School of Public Policy). This makes a total of 60+ of us bouncing around at various times and makes a total pain in the ass headache for the scheduler. Some 2nd year students take electives offered to 1st years as well, etc... I'll take a snapshot and post it up here sometime so you can see the maze we're all working through.

Essentially I only had 2 courses on Monday (others had 4 from 8am-8pm) and today I have 1 and tomorrow 1. This will pick up as I get to more classes though. This week was a Transitions course, today is Innovation, and tomorrow Economics 1 (see the schedule here for professor info and course info.) Next week I'll have the French, Stats, etc...

Also check the calendar as I'm headed off to conferences galore this month. Fri, 12th in Fountainebleu for a conference on Corporate Social Responsibility (my Berlin colleague says it's a trendy idea to alleviate regulations on private sector - I agree and disagree, Rome can't turn into a kibbutz in one day). Then, I made the cut to join 9 other students (of both 1st & 2nd years who applied) to go to Berlin for the Global Public Policy conference. I'm extending my stay there until Wed, 31st, to tour around with the other Sciences Po students. We'll be staying in a cheap hostel with the bathroom/showers down the hall kind of place. Fine for my budget!!

Speaking of, I have saved almost all my receipts for the past weeks and just have to plug them in. Finally a nice weekend to sit down and do this, as well as figure out where to buy a to-go-coffee mug. A slight horror to the French, and a slight insult, but I'm not quite a relax-with-your-coffee girl yet. Let's hope that after a few months Paris will wash me clean of the USA workaholic/to-go mentality.

Oui oui.
Feeling better about things. Thankful for a purpose for the days. Easing into the grey, overcast days. Smiling to myself on the metro (among all the seriously deflated faces of the Parisians). Successfully avoiding the doggie doo. Heading out this weekend to see some live punk experimental performance show, as well as "Nuit Blanche" (the one night Paris becomes New York and stays awake longer than 2am).

I hope you all are doing well, as well. And please don't take offense if I haven't written you back personally yet. I plan to - I promise.

xoxoxo

Adjusting

Well, it's been 9 days.

I didn't read the sign in the door of the electricity shop. So I bought a too-expensive transformer which may have blown out a plug for my battery re-charger. Or, maybe the guy insisted that it said 3.5v when I could see it said 8.5v and even when I argued it he refused it. So, "no returns or exchanges" was a hard lesson. He offered me a universal adapter for 29E but knocked it down to 20E - just for me, just for today - and I found it for 14,50E at the local Monoprix. A 2-fingered bird to Mr. Electricity. And a kick in my pants for being gullible and taken advantage of.

I learned panier [pahn-ee-eh / basket] from the security guard at my local Monoprix. I guess the equivalent of Monoprix would be like Walgreens or Target, I guess. So, now our nicknames for each other are "Monsr Panier" and I'm "Madame Baskeet."

I haven't bothered to correct people on the Madame part. Not sure if it's necessary or not.

From May until July it was "something is pulling me to Paris." From July to August it was "What am I doing?" and often "What the hell am I doing?" For the past 9 days it's been "Am I sure I want to do this?"

From afar Paris looks beautiful and romantic, cosmopolitan, sexy and racy, and framed in temporary tourism stops. From up close its structure, its foundation, its architecture amaze me. Its people surprise me with immense kindness and random exhasperation, infrequent but evident blindness to race through love and often an obvious sensitivity to chic through socialization. Up close my life here hasn't been about museums and cathedrals, elaborate meals or arm-loads of famous labels. I wasn't imagining it to be, but the reality of setting up shop and settling in to a completely different culture and world is a bit of a shock.

I have been so lucky to have already a good friend in town, Wilfried. We met through friends of friends on the internet. He and his girlfriend live on the east side of Paris but he owns an apartment over in the 18e which is literally across the Blvd de Clichy which is literally 1 block away from me in the 9e. Wilfried came by the day after I arrived in Paris and took me out around in my neighborhood. He gave me a run up rue Lepic, over to the Sacre Coeur, down through the flea market bazar, on the metro and over to the Marais, Les Halles, introduced me to some of the best people of the city and let me in to his most favorite bistro, too.

I have been so lucky to have a welcoming and down-to-earth landlord. Fabien is an art dealer, not much older than me if not the same age. This past Tuesday, in cooperation with an associate, he hosted an art opening for Akkitham Narayanan. The Sunday before, he invited me to stop by to meet the artist and see the works as Tuesday would be too packed to actually get a view. Sometimes I fumble when I'm nervous, sweat a bit too much, and feel all gangly like a teenager. Regardless, I tried to fake calm, cool, collected. I met a few friends of Fabien, and his girlfriend, Boram Lee. Boram is a studying soprano and invited me to see her in the Magic Flute at Theatre du Gymnase this coming week. I was fortunate to meet Mr. Narayanan briefly and see a few, small, original Picasso sketches in Fabien's office.

This is all 5 days after arriving. I'm still jet lagged and feeling mildly moronic, surreal, and overwhelmed in the language and visual parts of my brain.

I have bought a cell phone and 45 minutes and 100+ SMS. But in order to get a longer, more cost-efficient contract, I needed a bank account and something to put into it. So, I took the metro down to Saint Germain to Sciences Po to meet with the financial assistant. Arrived early and walked around the Blvd a bit. Yes, I know it's pathetic and sad and an offense to everything unique and good about being outside of the US, but I spotted a Starbucks, and, well, I just wanted to have a sip of bad, watery coffee. Sitting outside, in the Latin Quarter near all the schools it was interesting to see that I hadn't actually gotten all that far by crossing the Atlantic. It's still '80s-reincarnate fashion here, too, with the super tight black pants ala Johnny Rotten, the bad, baggy shirt with wide belt, and the extra effort to look tousled chic.

Meet with the lovely financial assistant who informed me her whole department had just gone through a drastic change. New director, new staff. Not sure what impact that will have, but we'll see won't we? Picked up the Stafford Loan check and made off to find a bank.

The US Embassy listed Banque Nationale de Paris at the wrong address and I thought, of course, Ave des Champs Elysees can't be too long to walk up from Saint Germain and it was a perfectly lovely day. Well. It's a long walk.

Along the way I snapped a couple of pictures of the US Embassy before I was whistled at and told "Non, Madame." Sheesh. At least he gave me directions how to get up the Avenue which, at the base near Place de la Concorde, looks like a huge park with streets just happening to run though it.

I started up what might be some of the the longest blocks yet. No numbers to be seen through the lovely park, I wasn't sure if I was on the right side of the huge Ave or if I was headed up the right direction. Spotted a moped delivery guy - if you need directions, ask the folks who know the streets best! Yup, keep heading up up up and up the Ave almost all the way to the Arc.

But there was no bank. For future reference, BNP Paribas is located at 37 Ave des Champs Elysees - on the southern side of the street. So, feeling defeated all the way up at 136 Ave des C-E, and having asked around, I just gave up a bit and decided that was as far as I'd get for the day. It wasn't the most winning moment of the week, for sure.

On the way back I decided I'd stop at Place de Clichy [Clichy Plaza] to check in with the BNP there. And although it was nearing 5pm, the bank representative gave her best shot at communicating with me. Apparently she thought that Fabien would have to be in-person with his ID card, an official bill with his address on it, and I'd have to fill out some tax paperwork, as well as have my carte de sejour and a ton of other things. There was just no way she'd be able to do it in the short time left and she wasn't in the office on Friday. Defeated again. I was only slightly annoyed though because I've lived in countries that move at a snail's pace and enjoy living more than rushing, enjoy breathing more than suffocating, places that lack the death-by-capitalism mentality. So, defeat in this endeavor wasn't a personal affront in any way.

Friday I hiked around my neighborhood trying to re-create my walk with Wilfried. That evening a few of the Americans and I met for drinks in the Marais neighborhood and spent some time bar-hopping a bit. From what I could see it's going to be a very interesting year. As I said to a previous colleague of mine, "I went out last Fri with 3 of the 5 Americans in my program - Kimberly, ex-aide to Sen Patty Murray (pro-choice) and ex-air reserve or something from Seattle (here w her boy-friend who works for Microsoft so they have the phat party pad); Deena, consultant from Chicago (26 years old!! I feel old) here w her boy-friend who is doing his post-doc in some weird nuclear physics math science engineering thing; and Sean, recently got out of the army and is disappointed after Iraq, from Dallas and voting for Hillary. Nice argument between Kimberly the Obama Girl and him. Deena, her boyfriend, their friend from UK and I just watched." It wasn't a heated debate, but personalities definitely came through in the evening. I don't want to make any statements on how I think they are or who I think they are yet. But I can see Kimberly and I getting along through our Type A personalities. Deena and I through our natural need to worry and care for others. Sean and I as revellesrs.

It was Deena and her boyfriend who showed me how to work the Noctilien bus and get from Chatelet back home. Thank goodness they were around. I'm still not ready to attempt a bike ride on Velib at night after a few drinks.

And it was Kimberly who told me how easy it was to get a bank account at the BNP on Champs Elysees. So, Monday I went back. And it was a lot easier as they're more comfortable dealing with tourists, students, ex-pats. I met a wonderful bank representative who speaks English and walked me through all the steps. I had to sign quite a bit of papers detailing the account, but other than a passport there wasn't much needed. A few days after I received a signature-required letter confirming that I live at my address and done deal. Of course, it will take a bit of time for the Stafford check to clear (3 weeks apparently) and for the wire transfer to settle (5 days?). But I have a bank!

[Sunday, after stopping by the gallery and seeing Fabien, I pushed on south to Montparnasse where I read in my tour guide that there's an art flea market outside on Sundays. Saw some amazing stuff and some completely unimpressive work, too.]

Tuesday night I went to the art opening [see above].


.... more to come ... bedtime for now in prep for my first day at school! Oh, I wonder who will pin my name and bus number on my smock! And, will the kids like me and will I like my teachers?! Kidding..

Next new exciting adventure.