Staying In, At Home

My financial situation has been a disgrace as of late, which has had its own influence on the Parisian experience.

Yesterday, for example, I stayed in the entire day, and only stepped out at around midnight for about 15 minutes to buy some bread and withdraw cash from the ATM. However, it was quite a productive day, as far as my freelance work is concerned.

Today wasn’t very different; besides the 3-hour French class downtown, I have spent the entire day at home, between the different projects, emails, to-dos. And even though the weather is currently competing with exotic England, you cannot help but feel bad for not spending more time out in the streets of Paris. But the truth is that part of settling in, and making yourself at home, is getting on with your daily tasks and routine.

On Tuesday night, I went to an Irish bar downtown with a bunch of Catalans to watch Barcelona FC fail to score for the first time this season again a stubborn Chelsea side in the semi-final of the Champions League. While it seems like a simple get-together to watch the game at a local bar, I burnt over 20 Euros in the process (I swear to God this city has a miraculous ability of sucking money out of you). And even though last night it was my team Arsenal against a far superior Manchester United, I refused to go anywhere (and thankfully wasn’t tempted by anyone) and stayed in to watch the game perfectly illegally over the internet.

It is just not possible to spend everyday out in the streets of the Capital.

As far as the French course is concerned, I have decided to continue with the extensive track (thanks to ALL of the people who voted in my poll to help me decide, all four of you!), as oppose to switching to the daily intensive one. There are many reasons behind the decision, but the two points that standout are the difference in price, and the time required to work on the different freelance and personal projects. Therefore my schedule will continue as is: Mondays, Tuesdays and Thursday from 13:30 – 16:30. This way I’ll have more time for my projects, as well as the freedom and flexibility to roam the city (and perhaps if the money starts flowing, the country) and engage on a cultural level.

My apartment is a comfortable place to spend time in. My windows overlooks the street Simplon; quiet and calm, and only 50 meters from all the action and noise:

I also get to watch some French TV, and have downloaded a lot of French movies to watch in the near future. Next step: infiltrating the rigid social circles and become friends with Frenchies and Parisions.

A Culture Underground

My good friend Ruth Pimentel, who’s been very active in participating in this blog and giving me her full support, has sent me a very interesting article titled “Un recorrido cultural por el ‘métropolitain’ de París” (a cultural track via the Paris metro) that talks about the underground from a cultural/artistic perspective. As you might have noticed, the article’s in Spanish, but even if you don’t understand the language, you can probably get the gist of it all via a web page translator.

It gives a historical background and then talks about the different stations, each boasting a different artistic statement, as if a world of its own. It actually reveals how the culture of the city and its habitants (residents and visitors included), is directly tied to the system underground. Which is why I had made the post earlier this week about using the metro as an indication of whether or not you at “home” in Paris.

You can come to the French capital and not visit the louvre (which I am yet to visit, by the way), but you cannot consider yourself to have seen anything in Paris, without experiencing the metropolitain,

Muchas gracias, chiquilla! Nos vemos cuando vengas!

Le Bonheur Continued

A couple of days ago I made a post about Le Bonheur, and it provoked some very interesting comments. Today in class we actually revisited the topic, and it was even more intriguing because we all had the chance to think about it and perhaps share some thoughts with the rest of the class. I, for one, had something significant to bring to the table.

What happened was that Leticia, our amazing teacher at the Alliance Francaise (strongly recommend her), gave out a sheet that consisted of a long list of things that would make people happy. The idea was to discuss with a partner and come up with the aspects that most bring you joy. It was a wide range of possibilities, including situations such as laughing on your own, spending time with loved ones, and waking up at 4am by mistake and realizing that you can still sleep some more before you have to get up. The first and foremost, of course, was falling in love.

That’s when the topic goes from a potentially superficial in class activity, to a more profound, thought-provoking conversation. Personally, I’m completely lost on that end. The easy way out is to raise the PACE flag and sing “All We Need Is Love”, but after thinking it through, it’s not as straight-forward as you would’ve liked to think.

Falling in love is an experience you need to live to qualify as a human being. When you’re in love, everything looks different, smells distinctly, tastes stronger, and even feels a lot warmer. But unfortunately, love brings along his old-time friend: relationship. That’s the connection between the fantasy world of love, and the cruel reality of our world. Can love always bring happiness? I personally think love is a catalyst to extremes, and it can swing either way. I also think that no one can be considered an expert in love, which is sad since it’s importance is overwhelming. How can you talk about happiness, when you don’t know what it is exactly, and how it can be achieved, and then use love to describe a source of joy, when we have no clue how love works?

I guess there’s no easy way to find out.

Love aside, we went on to read some of the famous French quotes about Le Bonhuer, and each had to select his or her favorite quote. None of them, I thought, were moving, so I went ahead with the courageous move of declaring that I have a quote that beats them all:

“Le bonhuer n’est pas un exploit, c’est un mode de vivre“

All the credit to my sister Nevine who had made up that quote in one of her comments on the earlier post, and I can proudly say that my classmates were equally as impressed. The original quote was in plain English, but it obviously sounds a lot nicer in the language of romance: “Happiness is not an achievement, it’s a way of living”. So don’t go too far looking for the things that make you happy, just live the happy way.

Thank you Neefa!

Le Bonheur

It’s funny how some coincidences are just hard to take lightly. Just as I got back from Gran Canaria, today in class we talked about happiness and well-being. It couldn’t have come at a more pivotal period in my life, and it left me with more questions than answers. Besides the fact that my French is nowhere near good enough for me to fully express what I think of happiness, how it works, and how it can be achieved, the topic is far too complicated for me to comprehend.

When you leave your “home”, and try to take on a completely new society, you start to notice that there were a lot of things that you took for granted, and you regret not appreciating them enough. Some of the basics include home food, late-nights, and time spent with loved ones, but more advanced aspects can include mental strength and emotional support.

In Cairo, if I have any problem, there are so many people I can call, and there are so many things that I can do to release the negative vibes that have infiltrated me. But in the French capital, it’s not the same. Here (or anywhere away from home, for that matter), you start realizing that you’re not as strong as you thought you were, and perhaps the obstacles you face are too much for your confidence. But this is what it’s all about, learning to be happy no matter what. Learning to overcome obstacles, even when you don’t have your peops covering your back. That’s when you realize you’re not as tough as you had originally thought.

The thing about happiness, is that no one really knows what it is, or how it is achieved. You can fight your hole life for something, and when you get it, you’re happy, momentarily, before you’re seeking satisfaction elsewhere. One of the students in class, Maria, made the argument that it is part of evolution to seek happiness constantly, and to never settle for little, you always want more. While the word evolution automatically puts the argument beyond doubt (how can you argue against that?), it would be interesting to see if anyone can “think outside the box”, if you will, and become the rebellious, adventurous fighter that becomes constantly happy with very little.

I have no idea, but I wish we all find long-term happiness in our lives, and while I hope I never have to live without the security of my City Victorious, I think I should still be capable of surviving comfortably away from it. La bonheur is a destination that forces you to go through quite a bit to reach it, and just like evolution has always taught us, only the fittest survive.

Back Home, In Paris

I’m back from Gran Canaria, and even though I knew this has been home to me, I wasn’t sure what would be the things I would do or feel that would leed me to think so. So I paid attention and realized that the Paris metro is probably the best indicator of whether or not you are at “home”.

One of my best friends, Waleed Fateem, once told me that when you’re in the Egyptian army, you take so much crap until you reach a point when you become a soldier. That’s when nothing matters to you, nothing scares you, and no thoughts are strong enough to penetrate you and trigger feelings such as fear, nervousness or exhaustion. That was very inspirational. Not that coming to Paris is in ANY WAY related to joining the Egyptian army, but here too, you reach a point when you’re no longer a visiter – you’re a habitant, and this is your home.

The following are the traits that come to mind:

• You jump over the entrance bar leading to the metro to avoid paying an “airport supplement” (it’s almost 8 Euros, can you believe it?). More importantly, you’re not bothered to look around you when you’re doing so, because you’re confident of yourself. In fact, people will look at you and say “this guys is from around here”
• You know where exactly to stand so that the door opens right in front of you, and you get into the wagon before others do (hence a higher possibility of finding a seat). Moreover, when you arrive at your station, you find yourself right in front of your exit
• When you swipe your card (assuming you have a pass – because buying tickets is for out-of-towners), you don’t even pay attention – you know exactly where to go and don’t hesitate for a second
• You never look at a map, and if you do, you’re usually too embarrassed and worried someone might see you
• When there are various options as to where you can sit down, or stand up, you know how to calculate it so that you’re comfortable, but you don’t have to go through too many obstacles to reach the door when you need too

There’s probably a few more. But I would say that those are the kind of actions you would be taking when you reach the point of considering Paris home. This reminds me of the days of Madrid – such beauty!

Yeray The Magician

To get from this:

To this:

You need Yeray the Magician:

To do this:

The price:

A hug!

Beats any barber’s place in town (although this was in the Canary Islands, not Paris, but I’m sure you can find similar service near you).

Traveling While Traveling

As you might already know, I’m in the Canary Islands for a long weekend. And even though it hasn’t been that long since I have settled down in Paris, I already feel like I have left home to travel elsewhere. Such an act allows you to look at things from a different point of view.

For example, I was at a cafe this afternoon with a group of friends where I ordered a coke. When we got the bill, I came to realize one of the fundamental differences between Paris and other “European” cities: I paid 1.50 Euros for something that would’ve cost at least 4 Euros anywhere in the French capital. That’s crazy.

Surely we don’t expect Paris’s prices to be close to those of Las Palmas de Gran Canaria, but perhaps we should recognize that it is disproportionately expensive. And with the fall of the Sterling, Paris may well be the most expensive city on the planet.

When you live in a place where you don’t have to even look at the prices, you’re experience will inevitably be significantly different than if you spend half an hour at the local ED (grocery store) to make sure you spend the 20 Euros wisely. For better or for worse, it’s a different experience.

Perhaps living in Paris with loads of money wouldn’t be a lot of fun. There’s something about being broke that gives you the sensation that you’re having an authentic experience. When you know that you’ve worked hard to earn a Nutella and banana crepe, the taste is to die for. But how long can anyone endure such a lifestyle?

Life in the Canary Islands is extremely different. And it’s good to be appreciating the low cost of living, the quality of homemade food, and the freedom from being tied by a tight budget. I wonder how my fellow Arab immigrants from the 18th arrondissment are surviving the rough conditions of Paris?

Thinking Of The People Back Home

As I was getting ready to go to bed, I checked my Facebook wall and saw that my buddy Hazem Mohamed Ahmed had written me a HILARIOUS note about my earlier post with the award I handed to Bip Bip Pizza!

Basically, he was making the sound argument that, besides the fact that I am ruining the business of many tour guides in Paris with my blog entries, I made the shameful act of giving credit to a “pizzeria just around the corner” and never mentioned any of the champions we boast back home in the City Victorious. Most notably, “Ma7roos”, in Garden City, will always be remembered as the best fool in town, and by far the best atmosphere you can experience.

Unfortunately in Egypt we don’t really use maps, so to get to ma7roos, just get in a taxi, ask him to take you to Garden City, pay him half what he asks you for, and ask random people in the street for Ma7roos – you’ll never get lost. Make sure you try two different fool dishes, and don’t waste your time with the siders, you’re there for the fool, and you mean business. If you go WAY overboard, you might end of paying LE 20 (less than 3 Euros), so saving up shouldn’t be on your list of things to do before you head to the headquarters of fool.

On a more serious note, small things such as a comment by a good friend make you look at the situation from a different perspective. No matter how many people I meet here, and how interesting they may seem, nothing will EVER compare to spending late nights with friends in the streets of Cairo. So while I may seem to be flirting with Paris, I am absolutely clear on where my heart lies.

Same7ny ya Zuma! hahaha. Leek 3andi crebbaya lamma tegeely insha2allah.

P.S. Credit to Reem Abulleil for introducing me to Ma7roos, and insisting on taking me there when I had been convinced for ages that competitor El Baghl was the king of the fool domain in all of Egypt

The Best Grec/Doner Kebab In Paris

You knew this one was coming, how would I travel anywhere in the world without infiltrating the community of immigrants that bring the tastiest and the cheapest meal in Western Europe? Well here it is, I’m going to share with you the best place I found so far, to get what they call a Grec (a.k.a. Doner Kebab, Shawerma, etc).

Where I live, in the 18th arrondissement, there’s a bit of everything. People might know the area due to the famous Mont Martyr, but my immediate neighborhood, while a mere 10-minute walk from the touristic hot spot, couldn’t be further away culturally. The main street in my area is called Ornano, and is full of Arab and Muslim immigrants. That means that on every corner, you will find a halal butcher, a cyber cafe with phone booths, and Grecs.

I’ve tried a number of the Grec joints in the area. While it’s impossible to try each and everyone in less than three months (unless living past 30 is not a priority), I can comfortably say that I have found the best one in the area (and thus in all of Paris, of course). The place is strangely called “Fine’s Beak”, but don’t let the name throw you off, it’s run by Tunisians who take their Grecs very seriously.

The bread is fresh, the meet is substantial and juicy, and their sauces…well, what can I say? It’s a pain to make a choice because you end up with this inevitable feeling of guilt for not choosing another one – they’re all just outstanding. Oh, and they’re fries are perfect (not all places give you a good chunk of fries, and they’re not always at an acceptable level, but Fine’s Beak has perfected the sider). When you go in, you’ll notice a choice of about eight sauces, I strongly recommend you start with the Algerian, and then the Moroccon (yes, you can go for seconds!). When you’re at an advanced level, you should then move on to the Andalucian.

Getting there is easy, as always. It’s right next to metro Place de Clignancourt, which is the last stop on line 4. Exit the metro and walk towards Simplon (ie towards down town), and you’ll find it to the left, about 50 meters from the station. Go in and ask for Khalil, and tell him you know Tarek the Egyptian, he’ll take good care of you. Since I’m there every other day, you’ll probably run in to me, if not, just ask them, they tend to know my whereabouts. When you’re done, don’t thank me (as that will surely be your reaction), just leave a small tip – these people work long hours everyday of the week, and their work of unprecendented magic tends to go unnoticed.

Ilu comes to Paris

Ilu will be visiting for a few days after finishing work at WOMAD in Caceres.