The (brief!) lifecycle of a pain au chocolat

Final days at l'Université Paris-Est Créteil

Team Tennis à la française!

Within about two days of arriving in France in October, I found my tennis home at the Racing Tennis Club de Joinville.  The regulars at the club have become my little family here in Paris.  A week ago, we began league play in the Ligue de Paris.  

The first week, we had a relatively easy match against the club "Les Cheminots de Paris".  The actual tennis left a little to be desired, but the ambiance was amazing.  It doesn't get much better than a beautiful spring afternoon out on the terre battue, or red clay.  For us, it might as well have been Roland Garros.  

Since the removal of the big white bubbles that allow us to continue to play on the clay during the inclimate winter months, the Racing Tennis Club de Joinville as taken on a whole new vibe.  Tennis at the club has now become a spectator sport.  The club's faithfuls come out to sit under the awning of the club house, drink beer or Orangina and cheer on the team.  The atmoshphere was magical.  It had rained a bit during the afternoon, and the dampness brought the clay to its most magnificent deep red.   It was one of those moments in which you'd wish for the power to freeze time just so that it could last a bit longer.  I didn't even take any photographs for fear that they would spoil my impression and memory of the moment.  Perhaps I'll post a photo of the club in a later blog so as to allow the image to simmer a little longer.

Yesterday, we played our second team match and posted our second victory.  This time we were "à l'extérieur" (away) at the "club sélect" in the Bois de Boulogne, Tir aux pigeons.  I heard whispers from my teammates that there is a 4-5 year waiting list, you must be sponsored by 2 members, and the cost is about 4000 euros per month.  In any case, the grounds were awe-inspiring.  As we entered the main gate, with the restaurant on our right, just past the reception, a small lake opened up before us.  I excused myself with my teammates for being such a shameless tourist, but they were equally enamoured with the place and happily paused for a photo.

As the tennis club is situated in the Bois de Boulogne, you have a view of the nearby business district called La Defense.  I had a kind of "out of Paris" experience for it is not the skyline that you associate with the French capital.  The view from the courts reminded me of playing tennis in Grant Park in Chicago in the shadow of all of the Windy Cities tall buildings.

The deceiving aspect of these courts is that they are "Quick", a kind of hard court that resembles the pavement of a road, which were converted into terre battue.  While red clay does not allow for the same surefootedness as on hard court, these courts riveled the experience of playing tennis on an ice skating rink (which I have never done, but can only image the challenge!)

Nonetheless, our team pulled out our best "Système D" (a French expression that indicates an individual's ability to use all available resources to overcome adversity), a simulataneouly pulled off a win.

Our 60-year old Dominique pulled out a 3-set nail biter over a 17-year old!

Christelle showed that she is worth more than her ranking by beating another 17-year old with an FFT standing two levels higher.

 

Team victorious! (me, Christelle, Dominique.  Not pictured: Teiya) 

Fortunately, I managed to contribute to the team's 3rd and 4th points with a minor battle against a "slicer and dicer" at the number 1 singles position and in a beautifully executed 0,0 doubles win with my partner in crime, Christelle.  And here we are, at the end of our 6 hour stay among the "pigeons".

A la prochaine, Tir aux pigeons!

Recap: April vacation in Florida

 

Recap: Le marathon de Paris

Since I had been on vacation until this past Tuesday, so had my blog.  I had not been away from my computer, but dissertation demands required a bit of a break from "fun" writing.  Now for catch-up:

April 10, 2011 - Le Marathon de Paris...

...was a success!  In terms of time, it was my third best performance as I crossed the "ligne d'arrivée" at 3:44:26.  I felt as though I was prepared to run a better time, but the 70 degree+ conditions towards the end of the race slowed my legs a bit.  Watching others pull off to the side with major body cramps, and feeling a slight cramping sensation in my upper right quad, I decided to play it safe and remain content with finishing under 3:45.

Sunrise pre-race

The outfit

Victoire!

In terms of scenery, the course was the most beautiful of my now 6 marathon finishes.  It's hard to compete with Chicago, Boston and New York, but Paris takes the cake.  The Champs-Elysées isn't closed for too many occasions (the only other sporting event I can think of is Le Tour de France bicycle race).  To run down it towards the cobblestones of the Place de la Concorde was simply magical.  The 42k loop includes views of les Tuileries, le Louvre, l'Hôtel de Ville, la Bastille, le bois et le château de Vincennes, Notre Dame, la tour Eiffel, Roland Garros, le bois de Boulogne, and many more!  For almost half of the race, we ran along the Seine and through the tunnels alongside it.  Although the organization wasn't necessarily at the level of the big city American marathons that I have run, I was ready for it and thus not overly affected. There were bands and various dance groups along the course that offered a welcome distraction for runners.  Given the rising temperatures, certain refreshment stations were equipped with waterhoses to cool us off.  We felt like children reliving the days of running through sprinklers on hot summer days.  However, instead of sprinting across the lawn in the back garden, our playground was the streets of Paris.


The race finished just short of the backside of the Arc de Triomphe.  How à propos!  Knowing that in less than 24 hours I would be boarding a plane to the US, I walked awkwardly down the side streets of the 16th arrondissement towards the Eiffel tower.

Weaving through the tourists and street vendors, I managed to find a shaded spot on the plush Champ de Mars to stretch my overworked body and marvel at the iron construction towering over me and my fellow lawn loungers and picnickers.

It's coming!: 3 day countdown to the Marathon de Paris

Aspiring to big things!
(but the sun and the heat may foil plans)

Possible Pace Chart (comparing with Chicago results)

Agnès Varda: an evening with a great cinéaste @ Forum des images

"Usually after directors make their first feature-length film, they don't ever go back to making shorts.  I've gone back to making shorts.  I guess that's like having moved up to the big kids class and then going back to elementary school.  Well, I've gone back with the little kids."

"When I'm making a film, I often get completely absorbed in what I'm doing.  Since I'm also holding the camera, this leads to some interesting footage.  (She then explains several 15 minute segments that she's found of her pant leg, and other such shots.)  When I was filming "Les glaneurs", I discovered a clip in which I had been carrying the camera at my side and while I was walking, the lens cap was swinging and bouncing around in front of the lens.  It amused me so much that I decided to leave it in the film.  Then, I decided to take it out.  After all, we were making a film on a serious subject: people living on the margins and consuming what society had discarded.  But it amused me so that I decided to leave it in.  And then I took it out.  And finally, I decided to leave it in.  For why must one always be serious when talking about a serious topic."

"Some of my films have been shown all over the world.  It is moving when a scene touches (not necessarily emotionally, but leaves a mark on) a particular group.  In Mexico, there was a group of young people who conveyed to me their reaction to such a scene.  Like the story of the swinging camera lens, this was also taken from. "Les glaneurs".  At a moment during the filming, I was riding shotgun while one of my colleagues was driving.  I have always enjoyed watching large trucks go by on the road, so I decided to film them.  Watching them through the camera, I realized that I could put my hand in front of the lens and pretend to catch the trucks by snatching my hand closed in the field of vision.  So that's what I did.  As we drove down the road, I spent my time catching trucks."

These were just some of the gems that came from last night's "Master Class avec Agnès Varda".  Having seen her most recent documentary called "Les plages d'Agnès" in which she explores her own past while exploiting different tecnhiques and mises-en-scène, I was stunned to see how much this Agnès resembled the one on stage before me.  She was just as eccentric and loveable as in her film.  Perhaps, as some said about "Les plages", she is slightly narcissitic as well, but who isn't.  At times she expresses her pleasure for what she has done.  At other times she is humble to the point of self-depricating, but mostly, she just loves telling stories about her lives and "normal humans", as she says.

I have been to these "Master Class" at the Forum with a couple of other film directors,Abdel Kechiche and Andre Techiné, whose films I enjoy and whose interviews I have appreciated.  However, in both instances, the directors sat the the table with Pascal Mérigeau (the man who conducts all of these interviews) and mostly just responded to his questions while facing him.  It usually felt as though the two men were having a private conversation, and we the audience were the observers on the opposite side of a two-way mirror, quite uninvolved in the discussion between these two men.  

However, when Madame Varda walked out onto the stage, she promptly stated that she was very intimidated.  Not by the audience, but by the format.  In fact, it was really the phrase "Master Class" that gave her pause.  She preferred something more a long the line of "An evening with" or "A conversation with", which is actually what these sessions are.  For anyone who has ever been to a masterclass, there is nothing "class-like" about these encounters.  And with that small grevience voiced, the Agnès Varda show began.  Although Monsieur Mérigeau did ask a few questions, he played a much more accessory role that usual.  In fact, he might as well have been an extra with just a couple of lines to recite next to storytime with Agnès.

Apparently, her favorite color is burgundy.  On the large screen that served as both a backdrop and an advertisement of the evening to come, there is an image of Mme Varda wearing a burgundy coat and the same color outfit underneath.  As she appeared on stage, her hair was "styled" in the same "bob cut" that I have seen previously.  The top three-quarters of her hair revealed the three quarters of a century that has been her life.  The bottom quarter, the same burgundy color as on the screen and as the head to toe outfit (minus the black maryjanes) that she was wearing on stage.  In a way, the proportions of her hair coloring seemed to suggest a sort of "sablier" (hourglass, in French) for her life.  So, perhaps we can expect another 25 years of stories from Agnès?  I certainly hope so.