The Ryndex

When Ryan up and moved to Paris, I admit I had some worries. If I can’t picture someone in their home, doing regular things, I feel a bit lost. It was 19 long months until I could confirm that Ryan was fine and Paris wasn’t corrupting him. So for all those who have not yet had the privilege, this log is devoted to Ryan’s daily life and odd things I noticed about how life differs in Paris.

AT HOME

• Ryan reads exclusively French books now. Things far beyond the Obelix and Asterix level.
• His toilet paper looks like mini marshmallows. Pink and orange puffs on the shelf.
• Ryan irons his clothes. Everyday.
• The French are known for their fine cuisine, therefore I found it odd that Ryan does not have a regular stove and oven.
• His elevator is surprisingly slow.

• I never heard a single musical in the three weeks I was there.
• Ryan has a special dish for olives.

IN THE STREETS

• Ryan lives five minutes from a bowling alley, but has never gone.

• It is not a lie nor an exaggeration – the dog poo is everywhere.
• On Fridays, the police coordinate street blockades so that rollerbladers can zoom around the city. Sometimes that wee speck whizzing by is Ryan.
• If Ryan had a car, he would fuel up right on the side of the street, or under a building.

• Ryan’s boulangerie is closed on Wednesday’s.
• His garbage is collected everyday and a recycling program has just recently been started. Remember the ditches in the 1980′s…

• Don’t be alarmed. They also have the Green Men that come around and clean the city streets and sidewalks everyday.

• Pharmacists scoff at the idea of cough syrup. “That is not good for your throat,” they say. Too bad, Benylin.
• In France, sometimes they have marches to protest against strikers.

That’s a bit funny. Ryan has become a bit of a protestor himself. I knew he was a Socialist!

• People defy the don’t walk on the grass signs in the summer. They’re probably tourists.
• Driving standards are… different. Ryan is better off without a car. Really.

GROCERY STORES

• They allow dogs.
• Special cart escalators exist. No, the cart goes alone – you go separate. They are special CART escalators.
• Eggs and ‘milk’ are not refrigerated.
• ‘Protein’ bars have less than 3g of protein. That’s less than a Cadbury’s Dairy Milk.
• You can buy sauce packets (ketchup, mayo, etc) that clip onto your plate.
• Pickles come with a gizmo that assists in lifting pickles out of the brine without getting your fingers wet. Genius.
• Ryan really likes Pims. I bet he wouldn’t agree but they are the equivalent of Viva Puffs without the marshmallow.
• Meat isn’t sold in family packs.

ADVENTURES

• Ryan is known for playing odd instruments (bagpipes, harmonica… ), so it surprised me a bit that in a city swarming with accordion players he hasn’t made the plunge.
• Ryan is now the type of boy who walks across Place de Catalogne and wishes he had a card table to set up and drink tea in the centre.

• Amongst a group of people up in the organ loft of St. Sulpice, Ryan is still the guy who is asked by the world renowned organist to ‘help turn the pages’ as she pumps away furiously on the grand 7000 pipe organ.

• Ryan + Flea Market = Excitement. He used to hate to bargain, now he yells in French!

BUILDINGS

• Electrical wiring leaves much to be desired. Perhaps the two dot plug ins will prevent child accidents, but exposed wire won’t my friends.
• When a store is having a sale, the night before (when it is still open) they will cover racks and racks of items with paper. So even if you want to buy it at regular price, you can’t.
• It is a mistake to think that the terra cotta pots in Ryan’s neighbourhood will help you to navigate your way home again. Paris is land of the terra cotta pot rooftops.

• People feel comfortable answering the door in their underwear in Paris. That really made me laugh.
• St. Denis, the burbs of Paris, reminded me quite a bit of Vancouver.

HIS FRIENDS

• Ryan was fortunate in that his Alcatel group was very friendly and welcoming when he first arrived. But could they live up to the competition of the fun loving Vancouverites and hilarity of the prairie folk he left behind?

• Unfortunately, the ones I met are strong competitors.
• From the ever-happy Italians with the amazing food and legs of steel to the extraordinarily patient Veronique to the charming Communist who refuses to be photographed – I think Ryan is in good hands. Smiling Sylvain from the travel logs will remain a mystery, though, along with many others.

• We do want him back eventually, though.

FOOD

• Ryan has always been a thin person who eats a surprisingly large amount of food. Paris has enhanced this about Ryan. This boy eats enormous amounts of cheese.
• French people go all agog over chocolate chip cookies.

• Ryan used to religiously smell of McDonald’s cheeseburgers following a hike up the Grouse Grind. This will never happen again. He has sworn off fast food and feels there is no need to compromise taste for convenience.

Do not attempt to lure him into a fast food outlet, it will only lead to ruin.

• Ryan loves all cheeses. Except Munster.
• Ryan still enjoys barbeque sauce, but now he has to import it.
• Ryan has recently made each of his recent guests stop and ponder at customs when entering France, “Do I need to declare this wine I brought from home?” to which the world responds, “You brought wine TO France?”
• Did I mention about Ryan and the cheese?

The only sad report I have about Ryan’s life in Paris is that we searched and searched for the Canadian pub – The Moosehead. We had to search for it. Search. And we never did find it.