Paris Journal 2011 – Barbara Joy Cooley Home: barbarajoycooley.com
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This summer, there are more vendors on foot selling miniature Eiffel Towers on the Champ de Mars. More than ever. There are so many that we have a constant stream of interruptions as we walk arm-in-arm and talk in that grand green space. On Wednesday, in a slight variation, one vendor approached Tom and offered to sell him an umbrella. We were each already carrying an umbrella, so Tom just raised his umbrella up to show the man that his efforts were pointless. My attention was diverted so I missed all of this and Tom was telling me about it as we walked there yesterday. Again, we were carrying umbrellas, although mine was folded up and tucked into my rain-jacket pocket. I got an idea. I think Tom was thinking it at the same time. When approached by the Eiffel Tower vendors, why don’t we try to “sell” them one of our umbrellas? We’d just passed a park bench with five French businessmen gathered round it, watching people while they wolfed down baguette sandwiches. Obviously, they were having a quick dinner and planned to go back to the office to work or have a meeting that evening. An Eiffel Tower vendor approached us, offering to sell one of the trinkets for a euro. We smiled at him. Tom raised his umbrella and said, “fifteen euros?” To be sure the vendor understood, I said “quinze euros pour le parapluie?” The first vendor looked a bit stunned. I turned to look at the businessmen nearby on the park bench. They all were looking at us, had stopped chewing, and had surprised expressions on their faces. We laughed and went on. The next few vendors understood right away that we were joking. A couple tried to negotiate the price. One offered 50 cents. Another offered 2 euros. Tom and I simultaneously countered, he with 10 euros and I with 12. I explained that it was of a high-quality brand, Totes. Whereupon the vendor (who is an immigrant whose native language is not English) said, “yes, but it is use – ed,” turning “used” into two syllables. Another said, “But I don’t need it. It isn’t raining.” Offering to sell us his biggest Eiffel Tower, Tom replied, “But I don’t need it.” Each of them smiled, and we giggled and moved on. They are so used to being treated with disdain, that this human interaction, although a joke, was welcomed. We had a great time – the best time ever on the Champ de Mars. One undercover cop gave us a sideways glare, but I could hardly see him arresting us for not having a vendor’s license. After we’d made our circuit, at the end of the Champ in front of the Military School, we made one last “attempt” to sell the umbrella to an Eiffel Tower vendor, and a couple of American tourists were passing nearby. The American man caught what was happening and he looked back over his shoulder toward us, laughing. My dad would laugh at this joke, too. Before you try this yourself, I must warn you that these vendors have a reputation – in the past, many of them have been arrested for pickpocketing. So have your billfold in a very safe place and don’t let anybody get too close to you. Seriously, I’d never want to sell this umbrella. It is too nice. Tom suggested we dine at La Terrasse again, and so we did. I ordered the special of the day, rabbit in mustard cream sauce – yummy! – and Tom ordered the salmon. There were some Americans in the restaurant, but most diners were French. It was a very pleasant little supper. Speaking of vendors, Tom has been disappointed that the old scholarly looking guy is no longer staffing the news kiosque at the Place du Commerce. Instead, a woman with shifty eyes has usually been there this month. On Wednesday, when Tom went to buy a copy of Le Parisien there, he did not have a one-euro coin (exact change). Instead, he gave the woman a 5-euro note. She handed him a two-euro coin and a one-euro coin. Tom left his hand outstretched with the short change in it, and said, with his resonating voice, “madame.” Instead of looking surprised at her mistake and apologizing, she simply and quietly took back the one-euro coin and gave Tom another two-euro coin in its place, with a very, very guilty look on her face. So yesterday, I went out to buy the paper because I wanted to see what this woman looks like. But yesterday, the kiosque was staffed by a pleasant young man instead. Has the woman been caught and fired, I wonder? On va voir. We no longer buy the International Herald Tribune every day. The paper’s content has been cut back too much, and it costs 3 euros, which is $4.35. We’d pay that if it was worth it, but it simply isn’t anymore. And as paying subscribers to the New York Times, we are able to read that online in its entirety. We could read Le Parisien online, too, but it is fun to have at least one real newspaper to lounge around with and read wherever. Carla B. asks how we can eat so much. The answer is that we walk a lot and we really aren’t eating all that much. We are mainly just having the main course, no starters or desserts. Or if we do have one of those other courses, we share it. And portions here are significantly smaller than in American restaurants. At any rate, we are spending less in restaurants this year. And I’ve been cooking a little more. I cooked an Italian lunch yesterday. This is a challenge in the tiny French kitchen that is way too cluttered with stuff. When I cook, it involves much chopping of numerous fresh ingredients. So I must constantly move things, putting things away all the time, so that I have the room to do the next subtask. The euro is $1.45 and rising. But we aren’t going away. Sign
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Friday, July 22, 2011
A
Black-headed Gull (chroicocephalus ridibundus)
near the Pont d’Iéna.
View of the
Trocadéro from the middle of the intersection of
the Quai Branly and the Pont d’Iéna. |
