Rue de Paris or Rude Paris!

This is my 12th move in 15 years and that averages a move every 18 months. And my kith & kin, near & dear must be tired of updating their phone books with my new number and keeping track of my moves, I don’t blame them. But I have always had interesting stories for them. It has been 5 days since I landed and I am already finding my roots here. Here are some interesting experiences.

 

Rue de Paris or Rude Paris?

Paris can be tough if you don’t speak French and I felt the pain many North Indians experience when they land in Chennai. Houria, my dear colleague was around to help me get over the language barrier. She helped me get a mobile connection, cable and internet at home, ofcourse the most important a bank account! God bless Houria!

Before I moved into the house, a surveyor (a Public servant) inventoried the contents and condition with a dictaphone and camera. He even examined the condition of the mattress, counted the number of spoons, knives, glasses and plates. To me this looked like an Income tax raid back home. And the real estate agent, like many others, was greedy and was asking me to recommend him to others at my work place. You need to look at the picture album below to find out what I inherited from the earlier tenant.

Rue de convenience
I am going to recommend to the Municipality of Paris to rename the street where I stay to “rue de convenience”. Below my apartment is a supermarket, a laundromat, a grocery store, a pharmacy. 500m from home is Oberkampf metro station, and LCL bank. Across from my home is a bakery, and Pierre Sang’s restaurant (a Korean a master chef who serves a 6 course French meal with Korean touch and people queue up from 6 pm for dinner that opens at 7pm).

 

Making a boiling start
A Tamil proverb goes “Amma katti kodutha sorum and solli kodutha varathaiyum yetthanai nalaikku?” which means how long will mother’s words of wisdom and food from her kitchen last? I remembered this proverb when I started to set up the new kitchen. Don’t we all need to cook our own food and develop our own wisdom to lead our life?

Keeping up with the South Indian tradition, I boiled milk. Since it was late in the evening, I couldn’t invite anyone for a little get together and serve milk and fruits. But still gave a traditional start to my life in Paris. And this news would make my grandmother feel proud and happy. I imagined grandmother next me as I boiled the milk for the 12th time in 15 years.

 

Finding roots and making it home

Like animals humans are also territorial and we find our space by leaving our pug marks and scent. And when I finally unpacked the 4 boxes not only did I find a home for my belonging, but also created my own space that I can come back to at the end of every day. Another way of feeling at home is to discover a portion of your country in the new place. It could be a small temple, music from back home, or a store that sells our spices. A trip to La Chapelle makes you happy, nostalgic and takes your back to your root. Apart from Saravana Bhavan and Sangeetha, I found drumstick (Bhagyaraj remedy or comedy or malady?), jasmine flowers, bitter gourd, dosa & idli batter and mangoes from Pakistan that rarely comes to India. At the Cash & Carry store, I picked up Toor dal for Sambar, Rice, broken wheat for upma, chilli powder, some raisins and cashews to make payasam. I am yet to make a trip to the Ganesha temple at rue de Pajol, but I saw a poster at the grocery story about the car festival for Ganesha on September 1.

My maternal grandmother takes so much comfort in cooking and feeding, visiting temples and when I call her this week I will I will have stories to make her feel elated. She may even want to visit me in Paris, who knows?

Fear of the unknown
The first night at the apartment, I was a little scared and felt unsettled (like many girls and boys). Yes, it was the fear of the unknown! I didn’t know who lived there and if the vibes of the place was good. If I consumed alcohol, then a few shots would have calmed me down. But instead I tired myself throughout the day from unpacking, shopping, and doing other chores and soothing music from back home helped me land instantly in slumberland. And next morning when I woke up I felt rested and rejuvenated and it was beginning to feel like home. 

Every day begins with filter coffee
For a South Indian, that too a Tamil Brahmin (Tam Brahm) a day doesn’t begin without piping hot South Indian Filter coffee. Paris may be famous for expresso, but can it match up to our filter coffee? I played old Tamil film songs from 60s, 70s, 80s (mostly MSV, Illayaraja) and started to cook. And I kept the French windows open to let the waft of our spices and music invigorate Rue Oberkampf in Paris (arrond. 11). Want to know what I cooked on day 1? Aha!

A story is born from our interpretation of a place and life, so flip through the album for a short glimpse of my Paris - https://picasaweb.google.com/108289564546757100555/ParisParis#

 

Don’t be scared to visit me in Paris and be rest assured that I will make you feel at home. Merci Beacoup!