French bureaucracy at it's finest

At 6:30 this morning we woke the girls up for an exciting adventure to Bureaucratland to get our green card equivalent. We arrived in middle-of-nowhere Nice before 8:00 to stand in a line, so that we could stand in another line, so that we could stand in another line to get a number. It took us 1.5 hours to get the number. Had we arrived 10 minutes later this morning we would have been told that they ran out of numbers and to come back another day...goodbye.

It took 2 hours to get to number 137. The girls were champions. It was not small miracle that we got a nice lady. Our stamped, self-addressed envelop was too big, we needed a copy of our visas but only brought copies of our passports, and I was supposed to have my own number...all good reasons for any French government worker to tell us to come back another day. We handed over a stack of paperwork, the same one we handed to the French embassy in San Francisco before we came, only we had it translated into French...a requirement. It took 45 minutes at the window getting all sorts of papers stamped and stapled and put through a machine and stamped some more and stapled again. It made a DMV visit seem like a summer's breeze.

Yesterday we had "tea" with a British couple who live here (who we met through the owners of the villa we rent) and they said that 51% of the population work for the French government. This labyrinth of buildings with horrendous architecture and dirty-as-anything windows (adding to the gloom) full of cubicles and paper was so depressing! It made me more grateful than ever for my life. With this kind of mind-zapping doldrums it isn't likely that there will be another French revolution any time soon! Maybe that's the point. This British couple has a 12-year-old daughter who has been in the French school system. From their experience French children do not have a voice, nor freedom to express ideas. The teacher is always right. (Can you think of any French entrepreneurs?) The children are trained from a young age that they don't have a right to speak up. One day this couple's daughter came out of school showing her mom a piece of art she had made during an art class. The mom oohed and aahhed then looked around and noticed that every single child's art was exactly the same. Not much different in the cubicles. The French government says things must be just so and there isn't any way around it. Good news...we passed. We are officially legal residents in France.

We went to old town Nice and ate lunch at a fun restaurant called La Zucca Magica (The Magic Pumpkin). It was a small but very crowded little place right on the harbor. It was decked out in pumpkins and gourds. The plates and napkins were green and orange. Very Halloweenesque.

It was one of those places were you don't order, you just get what is cooking in the kitchen. It was a unique and very delicious 4-course lunch followed by a yummy desert. By the time we finished I felt like Geoff might have to roll me out. This big, hairy guy is the chef. He wandered around the restaurant, peeking at people's opinions of his food.

On the way back to the car we stopped in a flea market where we saw old army jackets and boots, baby christening gowns and a whole lot of other random stuff. We walked through a small candy factory and saw a few guys making candied clementines, and sampled candied flowers. Lastly, we walked slowly by a row of enormous yachts where young staff were scrubbing railings, unloading food/supplies, and hosing off decks. Unbelievable!

Little league basketball

French children go to school four days a week; Wednesdays they fit in all their extracurricular activities from basketball to music lessons. In an effort to encourage French, and to be around other kids (our girls, particular Tennie, are missing friends) we decided to sign them up for an activity. We signed Adele up for tennis but she refused to go on the court unless it was in English. Tennie chose basketball. After a few weeks of searching for a girl's league we found one in the neighboring town of Roquebrune Cap Martin.

The coach is Russian. That's right, a Russian who plays on the French national team. She was likely picked out at a young age because of her athletic ability (and size!) in Russia and sent to a sports boarding school/training camp. Who knows if she ever made the Russian national team, but here she plays for the French...and coaches the 8-year-olds. Her style is classic 1980's Russian...how do you spell Gulag? Last week when the girls weren't paying attention during a drill she made them run lines for 5 minutes; that was after a literal hour of running line drills. (Poor Tennie couldn't walk the next day.)


She means business. Each Saturday there are games, some are in Nice and some are as far as Marseilles. This coach intends to win! She yells out commands in her thick Russian accent and the girls are perfectly compliant. I laughed out loud today watching Tennie try to figure out what she was supposed to be doing. At one point the coach was yelling out "one" or "two". On "one" they were supposed to stop and sit, and on "two" they were supposed to stop and stand. Tennie ran around the court like the other girls...easy enough...then "ONE!"...all the girls dropped to the floor except Tennie. She quickly caught on and dropped. In her natural good-naturedness she has jumped right in and makes the most of it. The coach likes her. Maybe it is because Tennie tries hard, or that she can laugh at herself, or that she has some natural ability. Whatever it is...we're glad she's on her good side!

Adele's reaction after Tennie made a basket during a competition drill...a true fan!

In search of caramel

What is fall without caramel apples? The girls and I went to a beautiful candy shoppe I passed a few weeks ago in search of caramels. We were in luck; they are so fancy they each cost about $1.50! The colors of the store and it's displays are so scrumptious I took a few pictures.

The Nature Store

As many of you supportive grandparents know, our girls have inherited Geoff's entrepreneurial spirit. They opened up The Nature Store on the pool patio. Geoff and I went by to buy some of their creations and boy were they excited about customers! I bought this decoration that Tennie called "A Nature Creation decoration", and "Nature Binoculars" by Adele. Tonight they covered their wares with a towel so they can open again tomorrow. Wish you could stop by!

Perched village

On the way home from church we had a picnic in Eze, a "perched village". This is a walled city perched on a cliff, and a destination of many tour buses (I thought of you mom, Laurie and Kris!)...for good reason! The city is full of quaint shops and restaurants, and a few high-end inns that undoubtedly have some of the best views along the coast. Every nook and cranny, climbing vine, and wood door called out to be photographed. I controlled myself, somewhat. Below are pictures of Eze.

A late afternoon explore

We decided to stick around home Friday and Saturday, but by
Saturday evening we were itching to get out. We wanted to do something easy and quick so we went on a little explore 5 minutes across the border into Italy and stopped at the first little town called Grimaldi (after the family that rules Monaco). It was a one street town with paths leading from the street up or down the mountain to little homes. The views were spectacular. We went into the little Catholic church there when we arrived, and when we left there was a mass going on. We stepped in to hear the prayers.

I used a smaller picture format since there are so many, but they are difficult to move around and look sloppy...they'll have to do (you should be able to click on them to enlarge).

Here is a picture of the ceiling of the church, as well as one of those plaster Virgin Mary figures so typical of these small Catholic chapels. There was a tremendous amount of decor going on! Also the girls in front of the alter. I was trying to capture the sky blue paint but it didn't come out very well. And, of course, a penitent Ceci in the confessional.




















Intermingled are a few shots of the town. A common home, the Pope carved into the old, stone wall, a picture of the girls and me with our little town of Menton in the background, a garden with view (!), an eggplant plant (Ever seen one of those?), a few fun pictures of Tennie, a picture of Ceci with her tooth looking like Nanny McPhee, and some hottie pics of Geoff. There you have it.

































After our explore we went to Old Town Ventimiglia and had pizza for dinner. This town is walled and fully inhabited. As with all of these old fortified cities there is only one small entrance. The walkways are windy and confusing (as to confuse the enemy of olden days who got into the walled city). Old Town Ventimiglia was inhabited by the Germans during WWII, with the American soldiers in Menton. There are bullet holes in the walls, and facade damage on the walls. A little red paint stills comes through in some areas, and the details of the fountains and windows and archways tell of a gorgeous and weathy city in its day. There is sort of an echo in these old walled cities, and at night it is sort of cavernous. Most entertaining of all is when Geoff and I try to communicate in Italian. We throw out French, Spanish and English (all in one sentence) waiting for any word that someone will understand. We managed to order a pizza, though, with the dough made on the spot. Delish!

Another trip to the dentist

"Before" shots of Ceci

Ceci marched into the dentist's office with her usual fearless gait. I think subconsciously she was nervous because she dreamed a witch was out to get her last night, and she asked all morning how much longer, but you wouldn't have suspected fear as she navigated her way to the waiting room and found her favorite toys. When the dentist called her name she jumped up and followed her to the next room (it is a three-room outfit: small foyer with small welcome desk [no files anywhere], the waiting room, and the dentist's room with the chair). When she approached the chair there was hesitation, and then resistance. She was nervous it would hurt. We assured her that after a little pinch her mouth would be dead and she wouldn't feel a thing. She mustered her courage for the pinch and lay down. The dentist, without giving the deadening shot, began to squeeze Ceci's dead tooth and gums firmly with her fingers. She was forcing out the infection, squeezing out the built up puss! Ceci was crying in pain the whole time, while we stood by wondering why she hadn't deadened her mouth before making this poor small child suffer! But that was just the beginning... She then poked Ceci about 15 times with a needle to numb the gum. She didn't kindly put on the numbing gel before the "little pinch", nor did she do the one or two pokes that our spa dentists back home do. Ceci was screaming out in pain. Tennie was crying against the wall at hearing Ceci cry. Adele was covering her ears. I was stunned into paralysis. Geoff was holding Ceci's hand helpless. The dentist was overwhelmed by the screaming, as if she hadn't ever dealt with a child in her chair. She said, "Tsk tsk, don't cry like that or you won't get your prize!" in her thick French accent. (What!? Did she really threaten to not give a prize?!) After finishing her pokes she left the room. Geoff and I looked at each other with worried looks while doing our best to comfort Ceci and distract her with little toys the dentist had for occasions like this.

Ceci, mid-torture

The dentist came back in and Ceci jumped and spontaneously squealed upon seeing her. It took a little cajoling to get her to lie down again. We assured her that her mouth was now dead and she wouldn't feel anything. We asked the dentist in front of her if it would hurt and the dentist, impatient to get on with things, said it wouldn't. So she got out something poky and as soon as she touched Ceci's gums Ceci cried out in pain. Soon she was poking around again, then she grabbed some pliers and then Geoff quickly suggested something in French. The dentist tore off her gloves in exasperation and left the room. (I noticed she was using the same pair of plastic gloves as she came and went.) Geoff, who was closer to the action, told us that when the dentist realized that Ceci still wasn't numb she began to poke her with the needle again to further deaden her mouth. Without letting it do it's deadening she was about to pull the tooth when Geoff told her it would be a good idea for her to wait a few minutes to let Ceci's mouth further numb up.

The next time the dentist came in Ceci let out a yell. These were innocent yells of a four-year-old seeing the scary witch of her nightmares enter the room! It wasn't easy to get her to cooperate anymore. She was pointing to things out the window to stall, she was asking to hold this or that, she was changing her mind about who she wanted to sit at her side...she was now scared silly. Finally, after telling her it would come out quickly, and that we would take her to the little toy store down the street to buy her a big prize for such courage, she sat back. Still able to feel a lot of pain we all stood by while she screamed for what seemed like ten minutes, but I'm sure was only one. It wasn't all that fast. It did hurt. I felt totally deceptive...only we did it innocently! She got a balloon and a ring that will turn her finger green when she washes her hands. We paid cash. $48 for both visits. A taste of socialism. I couldn't get over how minimalistic the dentist office was. No charts. No x-ray. No big fancy equipment. No dental assistants. One pair of gloves per visit. Amazing how little the government can get by on in a dentist office. A remarkable comparison to my spa dentist at home who is trying to draw customers by creating an experience. A dentist in a free market. Well, Ceci got a little purse with lip gloss and fingernail polish at the toy store and that seemed to cheer her up a bit. I just hope we haven't deflated her natural fearlessness!

We went to get something to eat in a shopping center near Monte Carlo (a famous casino in Monaco). Wow is about all I can say about that place. I'll save my comments on Menton vs. Monaco for another day. Here is a picture of Ceci with her new, beautifully unique smile. She is a little self-conscious, and it took me a good while to let me take a picture.

She was most excited about being able to drink through a straw with her teeth closed.

This was one of many chandeliers in the shopping plaza where we ate dinner. When we walked in Tennie said, "Everybody act your most fancy!"

We walked through a gorgeous garden outside Monte Carlo. Notice the fun dragon in the background. Of course, in France the grass is just for looking...

Tonight when Ceci couldn't suck her thumb without her gums bleeding she began to cry saying she wish she still had her old tooth. "Can't we put it back in?" It would be wonderful to have this break her from her thumb, but that means a long road of helping her comfort herself in other ways. Long nights ahead! Speaking of that...I better get to bed!