Girls

I’ve been quiet the last weeks. One of the reasons : a family found me via vivastreet, and we arranged so that I spend now every Wednesday with their 10 yo daughter G. Since then three Wednesdays have passed, and we enjoy time together! We’re cooking and eating, singing, listening to music, going to tennis, playing violoncelle (G.), learning languages, making bricolage, playing with her young playful cat Strato, reading. So, eight hours are almost like eight minutes. G. is smart, mature, independent, and enthusiastic! Especially when it goes about cooking something with chocolate 🙂

Thanks this family – both parents are biologists – I can now survive in Paris. But not save some money to fulfill my dreams.

As for the girl from Saudi Arabia, – her family also found me on vivastreet – two weeks ago, I was asked not to come : R. was ill, and the nest week she had to pass her exams at school. They had to call me back this week, to say goodbye? Perhaps, the Saudi storyline is approaching its end. During Ramadan, R. will go to her home country. She will visit Mecca, then she’ll come back. Shall we see each other in September?

Tomorrow, April 1, I have to meet the father of Inès, the 15 yo girl that needed a tutor for the French literature. Mahmoud wrote me that he “doesn’t wanted to lose” me because of my kindness, that he had a younger daughter in college and that he would like to meet me to talk about my spheres of expertise so that they could adress me in future.

Tomorrow, April 1, I was promissed to be paid for my three days’ work (18.5 hours) in Les Biches à Odéon.

Finally, tomorrow, April 1, I have to sign a new contact to work in Versailles…

Theatre in the theatre

This Monday, a family asked me to help their daughter in French. They found my announcement online and sent me their demand. The girl is 15 and she studies at a lycée. “There’s a little book that she has to read…” told me her father. It was urgent, so I came the next day. They live close to the place de Clichy; their appartment, like all the neighbourhood, is rather poor. Her father met me, greeted, asked some questions about my “parcours”, prices, and competence. Ah, you’re not French, he looked disappointed. Doesn’t matter, how much you’d ask, I’ll pay, just help her. You may read this book quickly right here, and then discuss it with Agnès.

There were a bottle of water, three glasses, and those famous French cookies macarons, which I find expensive, on the tea saucer. Touching and rare gesture of hospitality.

The little book we had to work with was Marivaux’s Le Jeu de l’Amour et du Hasard. There were four questions that the girl answered in her way, but my mission had to be to complete and to structure them. Instead, I told her, not straight away though, that I was not ready, they need a specialist in French literature. Commedia dell’arte and the rise of the Lumières is quite a specific area of expertise for me. I’d have rather asked you before our two hours’ lesson, who’s the author, what are the questions. I took a pic of the questions, which I studied later at home on google and finally sent her the “learnt”, more sophisticated answers by email.

We talked a bit about her own interests. That’s medicine, not the French theatre of the 18th century. Recently, she’s written a paper on pain, every kind of pain; oh, Hippocrates’ understanding of pain is odd! This is how we finished our “lesson” that lasted for 30 minutes.

Her father answered my email today, ‘Thank you for your kindness but that’s a pity it did not help… yesterday I forgot to pay you for coming at our place. Where could we meet so that I give you money?”

Don’t worry, I don’t want your money (just because you are open and good people).

It’s a strange world. The poorest are ready to pay a private tutor without negotiation. They don’t “forget”, like some Parisiens, about two, three, five euros, as if it were nothing… This Arabic family is ready to spend extra money for their daugther’s education, although – think a little bit – where are the Muslims and where is the French literature.

Les Biches

A manager of a bar in front of the metro station Odéon called me last Monday telling that they’re interested in my profile. I came for a rapid interview the next day, and in one day I started working with them. Thursday March 14 was my jour d’essay. It was ok, the team sympa, and we talked with Sana, the manager, afterwards. She asked me if I am really interested in working with them, and if I am interested in working with them till the end of time. Yes, I said, I am, and I want you bad. These were the real wedding vows! But in summer I will need a break, I added. And I can stay with you Tu, Thu, Fri and Sat only, and only 15 to 20 hours per week. Don’t worry, she says, we can declare 20 hours, the rest would be paid in cash.

The second day Sana said, tomorrow you start at 7 a.m. and you work till 15 p.m. You do the same on Sunday. But, I replied, I told you twice, I cannot work on Sunday. Sana: I have nobody else, so this week it will be like this, and we’ll talk the next week. In a few hours she said, You will open the bar on Saturday and on Sunday. And ran away. Doesn’t matter if I’ve ever opened bars and restaurants.

I slept one hour before the opening thinking about injustice and responsibility, about despoty and slavery, about freedom and dignitiy when you’re without job, about humiliation on the part of the people whom you see for the first and, fortunately, the last time in your life.

Closer to the midday of my Saturday service, I send Sana an sms: I can’t cancel my Sunday trip, and I stop working here today, and would like to get paid for the 20 hours of my work here.

Sana came in three hours, furious, and saw me drinking coffee (I finished my service by that moment and was waiting for her):

– You’re taking a break again?! Is this an open bar here?!

I had to register our conversation, but I forgot to switch on my recorder… Well, no one have ever talked to me in this way. Sana deserves a platinum medal for the way she treats her employees. She referred to the empty concepts of responsibility, honesty, confidence, “you told me that day…”, you promised me the last time… Of course, in her eyes, I am the contrary of all these values that makes our life perfect and which she thinks she embodies, represents, and puts into practice.

– Haven’t you ever thought why people you hire stay for just a few days and then run away? I ask. – If you don’t pay me, I’ll do all in my power on social networks so that your bar become really famous.

We finally decided I would think of my decision.

Now, after our mutual refusal to work together (we talked on the phone yesterday, on Monday), I wait for the documents to sign in order to get paid officially.

Image may contain: Valeria Gavrilenko, standing and indoor

Women’s Day

Oh, I was upset yesterday, poor me! March 8, the day when I defended my own rights and my own dignity! Yes, I did it!

I cleaned the kitchen of one Polish Jew yesterday and the day before yesterday. I’ve met him at Mavrommatis, where he came with his brother for a lunch and then left me his card. “Financier, immobilier”. He wanted to date me if I was “free”. But I am not, nevertheless, since then we’ve been friends, if one can call that friendship.

About three weeks ago I sent him a message saying that if he knows someone looking for a babysitter or a housemaid, or a teacher, or a receptionist, I would consider all the options. He answered that, by a coincidence, he was looking for a maid and if I could help him till I’d found a job and if this could help me for a while, – au plaisir! Thank you MG. Your kind gesture is really helpful.

12 euros per hour.

But yesterday I was quite upset! He paid me less than I hoped for. Though, it was rather his reaction on my remark about the money that hurt me. I saw that he was able, like all of us, to forget some facts and to invent others. He invented that the other day I was late. He forgot that I worked 2,5 hours instead of 2. But you spoke on the phone for 10 minutes! insisted my benefactor. When I tried to prove my point of view, he merely believed. Ok, take 5 euros, he said, I don’t want any misunderstanding, and you worked hard indeed, and the microwave is like new now (no one had cleaned it for 11 years before you). You are courageous, yes, you deserve 5 euros.

“Financier, immobilier”, living in a duplex in 16 arrondissement.

I felt like a “miserable” of Victor Hugo.

Isn’t it the effect of aging? MG is in his 70s.

My colocataire is of another opinion 🙂 after my complaints she asked without even thinking:
– Is he a Jew?
– Yes.
– Ah, so forget it and keep working for him! 99% of Jews are like this. Counting every penny – that’s in their blood! and this blood runs in their veins for ages! You can’t change it. Keep calm and keep working till you find something better.

Voilà the typical adecdote about the Jews and the Ukrainians (hohly!) in real time. The anecdotic characters in vivo!

Kebsa

Since February, I’ve given private lessons of French for foreigners (FLE) to an 11 yo Arab girl. She speaks English just a little bit and her level of French is a bit higher than zero. But both of us, we do our best and there is a little progress 🙂

Yesterday, her Dad said, wait, don’t go, sit.

In a minute, her Mom gives me a huge portion of Kebsa… I was so touched!

Dad: Any service, anything you need, tell us!

Post 6

Of course it’s important that you don’t lose your ‘self’ while you survive in a megapolis. The quality of your life has to be good. You may change your nutritional habits, but just a little bit, because you’ll suffer from not eating your favorite food, like honey and nuts which are expensive in France. I do not buy French cheese anymore and very seldom – French wine. The best thing would be to stop drinking it at all, as I’ve read so many articles about wine’s negative effects… But nuts and honey, I can’t stop eating them!

You still have to feel free in urban space and in space in general.

That is why you have to continue to buy your monthly pass navigo. It costs 75,20 euros, but it covers the whole Île-de-France, 5 zones, and you cannot not buy it because your only joy is to escape from the city as far as the pass allows, into the heart of silence and beauty of the great spaces. Every weekend I need to walk up to 20 kilometers, sometimes more, if the weather allows. Endorphins is the essential element. Far from Paris, I calm down, and things do not seem that determined and that difficult to transform. I understand that as long as I keep being flexible and open, I give the chance to a chance to happen.

I took this pic today in Île-de-France, between Juziers and La Chartre.

Image may contain: car, tree, outdoor and nature

Post 5

They say it is important to think every evening about the day that has just finished: what was done, what are the results, etc. In the morning, Bagelstein called me. I had an interview this Wednesday with David. They were looking for a seller of bagels, part time, 5 days a week, 2 hours per day and 5 hours on Saturday. David’s charmful voice with a slight German accent (Alsace?) informed me gently that my application was not chosen. Ah, OK, thank you for your call, I said. It’s a pity, I almost fell in love with your voice and silent cows’ eyes, I thought.

Abercrombie invitation in the afternoon. The girl sounded like a robot. She spoke so fast, but I agreed with everything, although I had no idea of what she was talking about. I cannot remember all the positions I applied to. Thanks to my philological compétences and Google search skills, I grasped the adress (Champs-Élysées!) and the date of our rendez-vous the next week, and reconstructed the entire conversation.

Many letters from Pôle emploi this evening. I applied for an unemployment compensation. One of the letters says I cannot draw it, the type of my residence permit gives me no right for such a démarche. Thank you guys it was very helpful. At least you proved me once more that if you’re drowning, you’re on your own.

The only difference is that I am not drowning. Still, I am on my own and I love it. I love meeting people of Paris in this way, as a job searcher. I almost became a professional ethnographer thanks to all the interviews I was invited to.