Could you live in another country?

Perhaps you already know the answer to this question.  Perhaps you already do live in another country.  Maybe you’d never consider leaving your homeland behind.  But just maybe, you’re one of the undecided; maybe you’re wondering.  Maybe you’re planning a short escape or a move overseas.  How do you know if living in a given country will work for you? Consider the following:

Lunch at a Roman bridge from a hike this fall--one of the perks of living abroad. (photo credit DH )

Your own tolerance for change and the occasional frustration: Life as a newcomer can be fascinating, but it can also have it’s annoyances.  Expect to be caught off guard and if that bothers you, expect to be . . .bothered.  Upon arrival in a new country (and even for years hence) you can be caught off guard by realities of local life.  For example, I recently had to make my renter’s insurance work for damage to our apartment that occurred due to rain from a leaky roof.  Who knew?  Not me anyway.

Language and level of social integration possible: I doubt if I could live longer than a few years in a country where I could not acquire some degree of social integration.  For example, during my stay in Madagascar, I enjoyed myself, learned quite a bit and began to speak the local dialect of Malagasy reasonably well for a foreigner!  Yet in my tall blondness, I stuck out like a sore thumb and people treated me as an outsider.  I met many expats who didn’t seem to mind the weird colonialist outsider feeling, and who lived quite happily in Madagascar, but it was not for me.  In Mexico, I found that it was not nearly as hard to ‘integrate’ with locals and not be treated as an outsider.  I’m quite certain that if I had work or the money to live in Mexico long-term that I could be quite happy there.  I’m not fluent in Spanish, but I’m sure I would be after six months to a year.   Your comfort level for feeling like an ‘outsider’ and for not speaking the local language might be different from mine, of course, but it is something to consider before you leave!

Work and/or income: The easiest way I’ve found of living abroad is finding a job and then going.   It makes for a lot less questioning and risk once you arrive at your destination.  It’s wise when considering work abroad to also research the local cost of living as things like rent, food, utilities and transportation can vary greatly depending upon where you’re going.  I remember when DH and I were considering looking for work in Japan . . . until we realized the true cost of rent in Tokyo!  For the retired, a wise part of the plan would be to check into currency exchanges and local costs of living with respect to your monthly income–and to consider currency fluctuations before a move.  For the adventurous, you can always save up your cash, research employment laws and search for income upon arriving at your destination.  I know people who have done this successfully–but you need savings, a tolerance for risk, excellent frugal habits, a decent knowledge of the local language, a marketable skill and a plan B–just in case!

Will you live in an urban or rural setting . . .and are you used to that kind of lifestyle? My first two years working in France, I lived in villages.  Villages I had trouble finding on a map Places with more cows than people.  I’d mostly lived in more urban areas, but I love the countryside and thrived there.  A true urbanite, however, would have probably shot herself!  The largest city DH and I have ever tried to live in was Marseilles.  Although a mere two hours from where DH was born, neither of us could stand to live there for long.  It’s not a bad city, as cities go, it’s just a BIG city and it feels like a BIG city.  We couldn’t adjust to it.  Again, this is a personal issue and a judgment call.  I know that DH and I would both love to work and live in Latin America someday, say in Chile, but we probably would not accept work in Santiago.  And as much as I’d love to live in Mexico, I would never consider living in Mexico City!

miscellaneous local challenges: Boy does this vary.  One of DH’s cousins had a particularly bad experience in Madagascar; she was nearly killed by pirates–she was in auditing and audited the wrong people!  Of course, there are other, less obvious issues.  Is the culture friendly to outsiders?  If you are gay or lesbian is the country friendly to your lifestyle?  Will you be living in a country that has, say, higher unemployment or more paperwork–like France .  Will you be visiting a country with unaffordable health care–like the US. These challenges need not make you turn back.  I’ve done research in a place with no water, electricity, food for purchase or roads–I just had to plan for the challenges in advance.  I’m not saying, don’t go, just look before you leap.

As I read over this post, it looks like I’m giving 101 reasons not to live abroad.  That’s certainly not my goal here. Even with my recent urge to ’settle down,’ I still can feel my wanderlust kick in from time to time and, frankly, I suppose I can claim I’m living abroad now;).  Still, living in a new country is an entirely different animal than taking a quick tour.  I think it’s worth considering at least the above, when contemplating an international move.  What say you?

When is the last time you ate meat?

“When is the last time you ate meat?” my mother-in-law asks me.  She’s ready to shop for today’s meals and wants to make sure we’re all staying well-nourished.

My mother and father-in-law were born not long after the end of World War II in Europe.  They didn’t experience rationing, but they grew up with an awareness of the possibility of ‘not enough.’  To my mother-in-law at least, not eating meat seems to be something that you do because you have financial trouble.  She likes keeping us all well-nourished (and is an excellent cook!).  My husband has told her that we eat meat only on rare occasions, and I can tell that she finds this worrisome.  Although she remains tactful about it, I can tell she doesn’t trust the meatless diet. In her mind, no meat=undernourished.

I am not hard and fast in my vegetarianism.  I’ll eat meat if I’m a guest in someone’s home–or whatever else they serve, for that matter.  I’ll occasionally prepare meat for meals at home–perhaps once a month.  I find meat expensive–particularly if you want to buy meat of quality that is not treated with antibiotics or fed with animal products (um, gross!). I also know that rampant meat-eating is not sustainable on our planet. I’m not saying my reasons are completely logical or perfect–but dietary choices seldom are the product of logic and reason, in my experience.

While I understand my mother-in-law’s post-war experience and the link in her mind between meatless and malnourished, I’m quite sure you can be well-nourished without meat.  If you want to, you can look up RDA for protein online and add up all your grams of protein and calories etc just to make sure, but I find that tiresome and cumbersome!  I don’t want to make my meals into an accounting process–and why should I? Most regular meat-eaters out there don’t sit down and account for all the grams of protein to see if they’re getting too much–yes, too much protein is known to be unhealthy as well.

I am running my own experiment: how does my body respond to not eating meat for weeks and months on end? Here are my results for your consideration:

Normal to excellent blood tests: I’ve had blood work done both in the US and in France in recent years–all of my levels were ‘ideal’ or ‘normal’ except for my sodium level, which was just a tick under normal–nothing to worry about.  “Eat more salt,” doctors sometimes tell me.  I love salt, so I’m happy to comply.

Normal, healthy weight: I have a BMI of 21, comfortably within the ‘normal’ range from 18.5-24.9.  When perusing the medical records I ordered from the US before coming to France, I am often described in the general notes as a ‘healthy, well-nourished female.’

I also have plenty of energy for walking everywhere  (no car, remember).  I also participate in athletic activities like hiking, biking (including long rides and hills) and cross-country skiing–no problem.

Health issues? I occasionally get light-headed.  After careful checking, doctors have determined that this is likely due to low blood pressure and possibly low sodium levels, not anemia, lack of nutrients or under-weight.  I also have back problems that are likely due to the way my feet, knees and hips are aligned–a genetic trait that I’ve learned to counteract effectively through physical therapy and/or yoga done on a regular basis–not diet related!

I may not add up the calories and nutrients, but I do take some care. The staple of my diet is vegetables, vegetables, vegetables. In addition, I’m careful to eat whole grains, nuts, seeds and legumes on a regular basis, and I do drink milk each day–probably to the horror of all those people that think we cannot digest milk.  Fine, fine, but I seem to be doing ok. I eat at least two meals each day.

I’d be curious to know how the rest of you handle your own personal dietary experiments. Are there people out there who find they can’t go without meat?  I’m not saying it’s impossible or wrong! Has anyone had a bad experience with not eating meat or animal products? Does anyone count or add up protein, amino acids and calories?  I’m curious.  And no, I’m not trying to convert anyone to my dietary way of life.  I’m just arguing that mine is among many that will work.  I’ve also never been pregnant or nursing, but I suspect you can do it on a meatless diet–does anyone have experience with that?

Burkas to be outlawed in France–what is the world coming to?

I love France, but on occasion, I still  feel like a visitor from another planet.  Today is one of them, as the French continue to consider the question of outlawing burkas.  I never know what to do when such a controversy arises and I’m actually wondering what the heck I’ll do when I finally get my nationality (when some bureaucrat has finished his coffee and gets to my application in a couple of years).  How will I possibly vote with such issues in the limelight.   Although I generally try my hardest to ignore news topics that seem made more to distract our attention from relevant problems, this one has me squirming in discomfort. It bothers me so much for so many reasons that I can’t ignore it.  What I’m about to offer here is my honest and humble opinion–feel free to disagree, I don’t have a monopoly on right and wrong, and this question is messy.

First of all, I’d be lying if I didn’t say I feel uneasy seeing women wearing burkas.  Maybe it’s just my own cultural bias, but I don’t understand why a woman in a western country who has a choice would wear such a thing.  I can understand modesty.  I’m completely fine with women who want to cover their hair, but the feminist hairs prickle on the back of my neck when I see a burka.  That said, I feel the same way about women who get boob jobs–it’s the same judgmental, hair prickling experience.  I can’t believe it or understand it.  It shocks me–and maybe, just maybe a boob job shocks me more than a burka.  At least the burka is not a permanent deformation!

Still, as much as I might fail to understand people who dress in certain ways or opt for plastic surgery, I find it hard to stomach the idea of a law telling someone what they can wear. I mean, hey, we live in France.  I’ve seen women walking down the street with their rear ends flopping out from under their skirts–and large, sweating fat men with open shirts and pregnant bellies glistening in the sun on city benches.  How can you outlaw someone’s attire?  How can you get into someone’s business that much that you try to save them from themselves?  I can’t quite go there.  I prefer to sit back and judge in silence what I don’t understand.

Let’s strip off yet another layer of this problem: French culture.  In the US, do we really have a way to do things?  I can recall entering people’s homes and checking–do we or do we not remove our shoes in this house?  When inviting people to dinner–do we or do we not eat meat, pork, non-kosher foods?  I’ve had Muslim friends give me Christmas presents.  It seems in the US we bend over backwards to accommodate each other’s cultures–unless that’s just a California thing.  But the French have their way of doing things, their one way of doing things that they’ve been doing for centuries, so to them, it’s not quite the same question. The French like to say, “If we go to a country that requires we wear pants instead of shorts, we do it, so when ‘they’ come here, they should respect our customs too.”  This is the country where the bartender will refuse to serve you decaf because it’s bad for your health, people simply have opinions on how things are supposed to be that are not in place in the US.  I have to say, I find French culture charming, it’s part of why I live here, so I do kind of understand this strange and protective instinct to legislate it into existence.

But let’s undress the issue a step further: I can’t help but notice that, aside from the desire to protect French culture, there is a clear tone of racism in some of the comments I hear about this topic. I recently sat trapped in transit with a person who decided to use the time to convince me that ‘Arabs’ are lying, thieving, no good (insert explicative here).  I told him that where I come from, in California, that racism is quite taboo–that it’s so socially unacceptable that we just don’t even discuss it.  If someone is really racist, I wouldn’t know because the person would never dare say these kinds of things to me.   I squirmed in my seat during the entire ‘conversation’ and tried to reason, but my comments fell upon deaf ears.  Once someone opens up a racist diatribe, it’s hard to get in a word edgewise.  Now, maybe not everyone who thinks women shouldn’t wear burkas is a racist, but the link is now blazed into my mind.

Finally, we unwrap the problem to it’s final complicating factor: there are many, many laws in France and not so much enforcement of those laws. It is, in fact, illegal to let your dog poop on the sidewalk, but that doesn’t stop anyone.  In fact, when the police or any other group tries to enforce a law–like say, speed limits, you often get a public outcry.  “Facho,” they like to say.  Are the police enforcing actual laws really to be considered fascists?  Well, if we can’t control speed violations, rampant fraud and dog poop, why does anyone think they can suddenly become the fashion police?  I think that a very likely reaction to outlawing burkas would be a protest that involved . . .wearing burkas.

Ah, there are times when I just have to say that I abstain from comment during polite conversations.  I think I’ll let the French sort this one out on their own–but that won’t stop me from blogging about it.

Evolution: Needs, wants and waste

This is the first post in a series that will address the question of HOW people are working to make their lives more sustainable in the face of the changing reality we face.  To see my assumptions and views on the kinds of changes we’re facing see “Out of the closet on climate change, peak oil and the end of a financial era.” Needs are at the heart of the discussion of how we will adapt.  The question for all of us is how can we still meet our needs in a changing global reality?  AND how can we balance our needs with the needs of others.  Ask someone to go with their needs–perceived or real–unmet and you will find fierce resistance to change.

Needing something means being unable to survive without it.  A simple idea, but we’ve created lives of such complexity that we’ve actually multiplied our needs beyond what is currently sustainable. We all need to eat, but if your modern lifestyle requires you to work at a high-powered job to earn currency to buy food, then you may also ‘need’ a vehicle to get to work, a suit and a dry cleaners, a blackberry, or at least a cellphone.  We’ve created a situation for ourselves in which we NEED an entire infrastructure from the highways and trucks that we use to ship food, to the pipelines we use to transport the petrol products that allow us to farm and manufacture that food.  Is it just me or is needing credit card companies, grocery store chains, petrol companies, pipelines, highways and truckers to eat a little cumbersome . . .if not a little unnerving?

The fewer needs you have, the easier it is to sustain your way of living. I’m constantly in the pursuit of crossing off items from my list of needs.  I like knowing that I can either do without something or supply it myself.   It means I have more choices available to me–I can choose or not to buy a manufactured good.  I can also decide not to buy if the price isn’t fair or I don’t like the company’s practices.  But when items are hard-wired into our means of survival, suddenly there is no choice.  If you must have a cell phone for the line of work you’re in and cell phones go up in price, you have to pay.  If you must drive to commute to work and earn a living and gas skyrockets, again, you must pay.  And if you realize that something you ‘need’  is detrimental to the environment–well, good luck boycotting it just like that.

Although life is increasingly complex and our ‘needs’ have increased to some extent, we still have an inflated perception of need. What do you really need to survive?  To be happy?  To be well-informed?  I’ve grown up without ever really knowing need.  I’ve always had enough to eat, a place to stay and appropriate clothing to wear.  So in my case, each and every time I found a way to stop viewing something extraneous as a need, I actually found myself as happy or happier than before.  Fancy clothing is a huge example.  Being comfortable, having extra cash and not worrying so much about how I look is far more conducive to my happiness than buying ‘cute’ new clothes.  It’s a way of life I don’t actually miss now, although I might have once predicted that I would not be happy if I couldn’t buy myself the new outfit on occasion.

Wants–the things you hope for, but aren’t willing to sacrifice for. You want a big house in suburbia but you’re not willing to go bankrupt for it (if only that were the case).   You want to have coffee out with some friends, but won’t die if you can’t spare the change.  It seems to me that too often in the past decades, we’ve confused wants with needs and have sacrificed too much for optional objects of desire.

Waste:  the things we thought we wanted and needed that ended up being simply too much. These are the misappropriated resources of our day.  Too many calories going into one person which cause obesity and lack of health are a perfect example of this.  Too many toys (for adults and children) that leave us feeling cluttered and overwhelmed.   I’m sure that many of us can identify some blatant areas of waste all around–items bought and stored for an insane amount of time although they go unused, food that is dumped daily out the back of restaurants and grocery stores.

Although there is much more to tackle than simply identifying needs, wants and waste, it’s a good idea to take honest stock of these categories first. Thinking clearly about these categories will help determine what we can sacrifice, what we can let go of and what we must defend.

What do you identify as needs, wants and waste in your own life? Is there a way you can reduce your needs?  What are your most important wants?  Are there any that you’re mistaking for needs?  Where do you waste the most?

And most importantly for the next discussions, what are the resources we really can’t live without and how can we manage them?

Out of the closet on climate change, peak oil and the end of an economic era.

This will be the first in a series of posts on this topic that you’ll see in the next months.  I have to confess that I privately spend a lot of time thinking about (and planning for) what I believe to be a major and inevitable change in our (meaning you, me and future generations) lifestyles due to climate change, peak oil, and what I see as the probable collapse of our financial system.   But I rarely mention it on this blog, in my personal life or anywhere else–this fact really hit home to me when I read “A Sense of Urgency?” by the Greening of Gavin .  Why don’t I discuss this topic more openly?

I’m tired of people (angrily) trying to convert me to their religious–I mean scientific–belief that everything is just peachy.  I prefer to avoid the persuasion by yelling, flaming, insult, insinuation or sound-byte that this topic tends to engender–and I’ve allowed myself to be bullied into silence. Henceforth, I’ll be speaking up.  If you disagree with the non-expert conclusions I’ve drawn based on my exploration of the facts available to me, please feel free to counter and give your reasons.   Just keep in mind that I don’t change my mind unless I’m presented with some pretty compelling evidence or ideas that smack of logic, reason and science.  I love a good discussion, but I’m willing and able to strike unreasoned and abusive persuasion techniques from this blog–click, click. 

The other reason I sometimes avoid this topic:  spouting doom and gloom doesn’t help anyone–I’m far more interested in solving the problem. Much of what I discuss on this blog relates directly back to problem-solving and rethinking our way of life.  The future posts you’ll see on this topic will be more linked to discussions about what you/we are doing and what we could do to adjust to this reality.

For the upcoming discussions, you should know that this blog, and this blogger, operate on the following premises:

1. Climate change is real, provoked by our  CO2 emissions and inevitable at this point.  That is not to say I think we shouldn’t still work to shrink our carbon footprints.  But, based on my assessment of the situation, we will need to adapt–no question about it.
   
2. We’ve built a way of life on fossil fuels.  Fossil fuels are finite, therefore, so is our current way of life.  I’m not going to get into arguments about whether or not new oil reserves have been located or whether or not we should drill here or there.  I don’t know when it will happen for sure (and neither does anyone else outside of loose estimates based on partial information).  But I do know that, at some point, humanity will need to adapt to life without fossil fuels.
3. The economic arrangement of ‘buy now pay later’ is demonstrably falling on it’s behemoth rear-end on the individual, corporate and government level.  The stock-market and banking system and their associates (insurance, pensions, endowments) are too large and complex for mere humans to understand and predict, much less control.  I’m certainly no specialist in this area, but here’s an interview from 2008 on the News Hour with Nassim Nicholas Taleb that basically sums up my concerns.  There’s no knowing what’s ahead, except that it’s quite possible that it will be a radical departure from what we’re used to.

I try to always keep a positive outlook.  When the oceans stir up waves of chaos, I attempt to surf .  What else can you do?  Please know that I’m not advising we all run to the hills with our shotguns and hundreds of cans of spam and wait for Armageddon.  (If I were to run to the hills, I would be more likely to bring peanut butter by the way).  Change is change.  Change is not personal, it’s not damnation, it’s not the angry hand of some higher being.  But change demands adaptation, dare I say, evolution–that’s what I’d like to focus on in the upcoming weeks. I’m looking forward to the discussion. Feel free to recommend specific topics in the comments.

Note:  I’ll be out of town visiting DH for a couple of days, but I’ll respond to comments again Sunday or Monday.

Dark Days of Winter Week 10 : Pumpkin Gratin and Mâche.

Call me lazy, but this week for the Dark Days Local Eating Challenge I simply took last week’s pumpkin soup leftovers and made them into a gratin.  You’ll have to excuse me for using up some of my lingering non-local ingredients that are still here from my in-laws in the recipe.  This is one of my favorite dishes by the way.  I highly recommend it for the cold winter nights.  And mâche makes an excellent winter substitute for the usual types of lettuce and greens. Aside from being tasty, it’s packed with vitamins, iron and omega-3s.  A veritable super-food that grows all winter long.  I can’t wait to try growing this inside.

Pumpkin gratin fresh from the oven.

Ingredient sources:

The pumpkin is what’s left of the one from last week–again, it came from about 100 miles away. Normally I get them closer to home, but my mother in law brought this one to me from her home.  Again, the potatoes and shallots are from an organic farm on the outskirts of town.  The mâche is from a farm that is also in town, but not certified organic–I picked it up at the Tuesday market.

Pumpkin Gratin how to:

In a pan, sauté some shallots and/or garlic with olive oil, when tender, mix them in with about 2-3 cups of cooked, smashed pumpkin and 1-2 cooked, mashed potatoes (or just use your leftover pumpkin soup like I did).

Mix in 1/2 cup of cream and 3-4 eggs, salt and pepper.  Stir thoroughly.

Pour into a deep pie dish or casserole dish and top with grated swiss or gruyere cheese.

Bake at 375 for about 40 minutes until it sets up–it will have a custardy texture, a little more moist than a pumkin pie.  If desired, flip the oven to broil for a bit so your dish is brown and bubbly when it comes out.

Finding mâche near you: When I lived in the States, I remember Trader Joe’s carrying mâche and I’m fairly sure it’s available in coops fairly often.  You can also get seeds depending where you shop and grow your own.  Just plant them in a wide, shallow container and snip them when you’re ready.  They’re eaten at the size you see in the photo or even younger, so it’s really no problem to grow at home.

Soaking the mâche in a large bowl lets the dirt and grit sink to the bottom.

A village in the mountains? But what will you do all day?

I opted recently to stay in a tiny mountain village in the frozen Alps.  I rented a hotel room for the weekend so that I could be near by and visit with DH at

The first village I explored.

his rehabilitation center. (No, staying in a hotel is not frugal, but it is covered by insurance, so why not?).  It surprised me–the number of people who wondered aloud what I would do there.  All alone in the mountains, in the snow, with no internet access, no cell phone coverage, no cinema, no shopping, no car: Maybe that’s not everyone’s idea of a dream come true. Despite the misgivings of friends and family, I went anyway and intend to make a weekend ritual of my visit.  For the worried and the confused, here is what I do with myself:

My schedule consists of sleeping in ’til 8 AM–since it’s the dead of winter, it gets light late and with all the snow on the ground, everything is quiet. Then I creep downstairs and sit by the fire and have my café au lait and a croissant (yes, really).  Next, I close myself in my room and do a little writing with a pen and a notebook–an unplugged experience.   Then I roll out my yoga mat and work a little on my poor, neglected psoas and sit quietly for some meditation.  The phone never rings because I’m out of reach!

I still have just enough time before visiting hours to take advantage of my surroundings.  I pick my way over the icy streets of the closest village, hike up a snow-covered hill for the view and then head down the road a couple of miles to check out the next village down. I’ve already got plans for my next visits.  I’ll spend my first trips trekking the un-plowed roads and wandering through the neighboring communities.  Then I’ll scout out the trails, maybe bring along a pair of snow shoes for a little exploration off the beaten path (don’t worry, I’m totally terrified of avalanche and have no desire to be buried–so I’ll take precautions).

The view from my first day wandering.

I arrive back in town just in time to grab my lunch and join DH for lunch in the rehab center.  We spend the afternoon chatting, sipping hot chocolate, reading and looking out the window at the snow and the people wandering by on snowshoes.

I’m still rather shocked that so many people thought I’d go crazy with ‘nothing to do’ out there. How would that be possible with all those mountains waiting for me?  As I cover more ground, the snow will melt and I’ll have more territory to explore.  I’m sure I can amuse myself as long as DH is here.

I suppose you could say I’m easily entertained or at least self-contained in that respect. I don’t need TV or constant contact by cell phone.  I don’t like shopping or going to the movie theaters.  I do enjoy a good cup of coffee in the afternoon, but I can still get that–I have my ways.

In fact, one thing that drives me crazy about living in a city (and not driving) is how cut off I am from nature–not here. I’m right in the middle of it, I just have to take a small road or a trail or look up at the mountains rising in every directions.  I can trade proximity to conveniences for that, I think.

I like it so much, that I’m beginning to wonder if I could live this way full time. DH noticed how perfectly content I am to stomp around the snow in my boots that he wondered if we shouldn’t really just settle someplace in the sticks after all this is over. Renting a studio in the village, or on it’s outskirts, is beginning to seem like a tempting possibility–a way to see if living someplace really remote suits us or not.

I’m heading back this weekend, with my snowshoes.

Grow your own–instant gratification with garlic.

Wonderous, sprouting garlic bulbs!

We’ve lived in an apartment of some size and shape for years know, which makes growing your own food interesting.  Back in the Silicon Valley, we had success with a few pots of lettuce, strawberries and herbs on a challenging, shaded north-facing balcony.  However,each time we’ve moved since, our apartments have seemed less and less hospitable to plant life.  So what CAN I grow still?  I’ve been brainstorming and decided to start with garlic.

Last Wednesday, before I left for the weekend, I pulled some cloves off a garlic bulb  and pressed them into a pot I’d been saving since it’s last inhabitant when to a better place.  (Yep, sometimes, my plants die.)  I poured a little warm water on the bulbs and left them in front of a westward facing window.

When I returned Monday, all the bulbs had sprouted!  Now, I admit to being someone who is fascinated by plants, nature and our interdependence with our food.  I admit this, but still, it’s as if I’d forgotten how absolutely amazing it is to grow something from seed (or bulb as it were) and watch it take shape.  Yep, I’m a nerd–an emotional, sappy nerd in love with a garlic plant!

The amazing thing about this garlic is that I didn’t really try very hard or do much for it, and it persisted anyway.  I didn’t choose a fresh bulb that hadn’t been stored in the fridge yet.  I didn’t bother to mix up the soil in my pot too much or read up on ‘how to’ do this or any such thing.  I just stuck the bulbs in the dirt, added water and ‘presto.’  Sometimes gardening can be so complicated–you spend so much time fussing over your plants . . . and occasionally they fail to thrive anyway, for reasons you can’t quite figure out.

The garlic just pushed it’s way into life given half a chance.  Please welcome the first and newest addition to my indoor garden!

Introverted? Highly sensitive? I think not. A simple response to intrusive noise.

As a society, we explain away the explosion of truly obnoxious and unhealthy bombardment of interruptions noises, images and messages by labeling people who struggle to tolerate such offenses.  Introverted?  Highly sensitive? ADD? Autistic?  Don’t call me names, just stop the racket.  Please. I find that on a daily basis, I’m losing my tolerance for certain aspects of life which many consider ‘normal.’  But I would like to suggest that the problem is not, in fact, with me.  The problem is with a society that considers such constant invasion to be ‘the norm.’

I’m now reminded of a specific occasion where I was sitting in a friend’s living room catching up on the latest with her family.  Her children were playing on the floor in front of us and behind them, on a giant flat screen TV, Tyra Banks was interviewing a series of guests about their experiences with female genital mutilation. “Sorry,” I told my friend after a few moments of physical discomfort.  “Could we turn off the TV?”  I often sound calm when I’m deeply upset–screaming on the inside, as it were.  (I’m not sure what’s worse, Tyra Banks or female genital mutilation, but I find both highly disturbing).

At the risk of sounding like a crusty old grouch and social outcast, does one really have to suffer from a ‘condition’ or be a certain type of person to find the following annoying?

• The women behind me on the bus who chatter constantly, repeating their last comment  rather than allowing a nanosecond of silence during the two-hour torture session (I mean, bus ride).
• The adolescent who carries a tiny pocket radio everywhere so that we all can ‘appreciate’ his taste in ‘music.’
• The businessman speaking in a loud voice on his cell phone while following me down the street as I try to get some air.
• The TV coverage of the earthquake in Haiti complete with wheelbarrows of dead bodies and mourning families on in the ‘background’ while people chat casually on some other topic.
• The intermittent radio chatter about the latest sensational murder, kidnapping and then the latest celebrity affair as I try to enjoy a cup of coffee.
• Billboards sprouting all over the place with slogans so inane that my skin prickles into goosebumps.

Lately, I’ve been very, very busy doing paperwork and moving from place to place.  My hobbies and pastimes have dwindled to walking alone in secluded areas, yoga, writing and reading.  Many of my social activities are out the window and, with DH hospitalized, I’m spending more time a lone than ever.  In my own home, I don’t have TV or radio.  If I want news, I seek it out on the internet, deftly avoiding sensationalism (thank you CNN and TF1, but I can imagine the horror in Haiti just fine on my own without your ‘personal interest’ stories).   In short, I live a noise-free existence–which I blame for my current ’sensitivities.’

If everyone could experience a one month ‘vacation’ from being constantly violated by TV, radio, cell phones, inane chatter and advertising,  the general tolerance for such abuse of the mind and spirit would sink drastically. We would, in fact, find that it is not just a few of us who think and feel better without all that noise.  It rather reminds me of the unfortunate individual with asthma back in the day when people still smoked in cafes.  While it only drove a few people to avoid going out for a drink, it wasn’t good for anyone.  And now, that the smoke has lifted, we can all breathe easier.

I’m curious to know if anyone else finds all the intrusive noise that has become so common in modern society  to be too much and/or if anyone has found a way to avoid it on a more permanent basis!

A cup of coffee, the end of civilization: small talk in France.

I defy you to sit in a cafe in France or attend a social gathering that does not include some kind of ranting about how civilization is circling the drain.  As a newcomer to French culture , I have no way of knowing if life moved more smoothly twenty or thirty years ago.    Although the state of the global climate and economy seem troublesome,  the ‘end of civilization’ often seems like the default topic of conversation. You can always bring up the last political scandal, the last young criminal you saw on tv, the state of the economy–then everyone can agree, throw up his or her hands and ask ‘what is the world coming to?’ or add a personal anecdote.

I’m not judging this phenomenon, just noticing it.  Perhaps I’m simply witnessing one more cultural trait as an outsider.  Still, as  hear people talking in cafes or in the markets, I wonder,  if civilization has taken such a bad turn, why don’t we DO something about it–besides complaining over our esspreso?

What do the French worry about the most?  Ten years ago, it seemed to be Americans, their bad food, their invasive fast food chains, genetically modified food, globalization, and outsourcing.  Now, the threats appear to be more internal.

People commonly rant about lack of security, lack of respect and a lack of civic duty.  All the unruly adolescents, un-integrated immigrants and unpunished crimes and insults have the French in a fury.  Respect had gone out the window, it seems, people cite the dog poop on the sidewalks (and sometimes simply tossed out the window), the loud music on public transportation, the pickpocketing.

Cost of living and uncertainty in employment weighs heavy on the minds of the French. Layoffs threaten people in many sectors.  When colleagues have been laid off, people certainly tend to feel forced to do the work of those who are gone.  The situation becomes more precarious and more stressful as time goes on.  Those who have tried to start their own businesses often find themselves earning less than the minimum wage.

And then, of course, there is the question of bureaucracy, the privileged government employees and corruption. Again, I never know how to compare societies.  Is the government, in fact, more corrupt in France than the US or do the French just bring up the dysfunctions of government more often in passing?

What I do know for sure is that humanity, the environment and the global economy are  facing strange times or at least a period of drastic change. I don’t know what’s in store for us exactly, but I certainly think that a continuing reduction in our ’standard of living’ is ahead–at least for Westerners.  To some extent, I have a hard time labeling this as a problem.  For too long we’ve felt too entitled to too much.  Having too much hasn’t made us happier, better, more advanced or more considerate of others.  As the days of ‘too much’ come to an end, what can we look forward to?  Times will certainly be different–most likely we will experience significant discomfort with this change of lifestyle. Is that bad?  It depends on your outlook.

We can continue to throw up our hands and say how awful it is or, instead, we can  view our changing and unstable times as a call to change and adapt ourselves. To me, at the very least, this seems like a more pragmatic approach than complaining.  I’m much more interested in conversations where people describe how they’ve learned to cut back on their spending or how they’ve learned to use less energy in their households than conversations in which people throw up their arms and give up. I’d be strongly interested in a conversation where people discussed how they’d formed a grass roots organization bent on stopping government corruption, helping people find work or supporting local farmers.  I’m not saying we should forget our problems or stop discussing them.  But I’m growing weary of the same conversations over and over.  The worst thing I’ve heard so far, “We can only do what the government allows us to do.” The lack of personal responsibility in that remark shocks me.  And I’m not easily shocked.

I’m glad the French are aware of how much trouble we may be in.  Sometimes I get the feeling that Americans prefer to hide in their living rooms and make love to their plasma TV’s.  But what is the good of awareness if you don’t intend to act? Too bad not many French people read my blog –but if you’re out there, feel free to answer or tell me how wrong my interpretation is.