White Noise

Although I'm really enjoying learning languages, oddly enough, I'm finding more and more that I don't really like talking to people. It's almost always the same thing: such and such is annoying me, isn't the weather unusual, did you see [insert tv show here] last night? So the language thing is kind of an existential pursuit but so is most of existence I think (hence the name) -- and a little bit more won't hurt any. Probably.

But perhaps I think I've been too negative about the white noise of our lives. What if people didn't have mindless blather to camouflage what they really think? People are nice enough on the surface, but look carefully and you can see racism, selfishness, superficiality, and the lack of self discipline, empathy, consideration for others... and that's just with people who are really are quite nice people. What about people who are jerks? I shudder at the thought.

It's also a great evolutionary advantage, in that it distracts from the general pointlessness of existence. If everyone shut up and really thought about things for a bit, half the population would probably commit suicide with despair. But when you're prattling on about how nice the weather girl's outfit is today (I'm guilty of this particular crime, I must admit; and equally shocked and appalled if she or any other member of the news team is badly attired) it very conveniently drowns out thoughts like, what's my purpose in life? This permits a lack of massive suicides and at the same time propogation of the species because we're all a bit horny after looking at the well dressed weather girl.

[An aside: If I'm to be totally honest, this has been taken from an e mail I wrote to a mate of mine, rather than being written expressly for the blog... but I was so pleased with it I thought I'd share!]

Depression

According to urban wisdom (i.e. a bunch of people I know have commented on this), intelligent people are more prone to depression. Why? Who knows, really. Maybe they have the wherewithal to see things more realistically, instead of believing in the happy haze that assures us that everything works out for the best, the good guys always win, and that happily ever after really happens.

What I want to know is, if they're so intelligent, why don't they a) see that changing the way they think and essentially becoming mentally healthy is in their interest; or b) end it all quickly and painlessly, so as not to prolong exposure to the unchangeable shitpile that is life?

Maybe it's the intelligent people of above average intelligence, but below extreme intelligence/perseverance/self-discipline.

Or maybe it's something other people say to make depressed people feel better about themselves and hopefully snap them out of their funk. Though if they were really intelligent, surely they'd have enough insight to see through such a pathetic ruse?

And I could go on.

Banana cake, Genie style

I love to cook, so long as I'm not obligated to cook. Given that I'm a tiny little slip of a thing, the eating of my output can be a bit problematic, which is why living with other people is a very, very good idea for me. Here's this morning's experiment, which turned out to be absolutely delicious. I'm currently munching on slice #3 and it's not even lunch time...



Genie's Kickass Banana Cake

3 bananas
1/2 tablespoon of honey
1 teaspoon of cinnamon
1/2 teaspoon of butter

1 cup of raw sugar
1/3 cup of butter

1 egg
1 tablespoon maple syrup
1 teaspoon baking soda
a pinch of salt

1 1/2 cups flour


Cut the bananas into pieces and place in a pot with the butter, honey and cinammon in a pot on low heat. Cook until slightly caremlised, stirring to break up the banana pieces (though I personally prefer to have some banana chunks, so I don't stir too much). Allow to cool slightly once ready.

Put the raw sugar (this can be cut down to 3/4 of a cup, if you want) and butter in a large mixing bowl, add the banana mixture and stir. Add the egg, maple syrup, baking soda and salt, mix well (the batter will probably become frothy because of the warm sugar and soda -- don't worry about it). Gradually add the flour, beating well.

Pour into a greased loaf tin and cook at 180° for 45-60 minutes, or until golden brown on top. If the top doesn't appear to browning as quickly as the sides, brush it with a little butter at the 30-minute mark.

Yum!! Most of the time when I cook, they're one hit wonders. I generally just add stuff that I find in the pantry or fridge that seems like a good idea at the time, in ever increasing quantites until the food smells right. It's nice to know that this one will be a multiple hit wonder!

ANZAC Day

What is it about Aussies (and a lesser extent, New Zealanders)? Other cultures celebrate great successes and victories, but one of our most solemn national holidays commemorates the date of a gigantic military arse kicking. Along with other antiheroes (Ned Kelly, the swagman from Waltzing Matilda), it's an interesting facet to our national character/culture.

Here's a great pic of the War Memorial in Perth taken by a fella who calls himself Broadview on http://flickr.com



Things to do on ANZAC day if you're in Perth:

- Wake up while it's still dark to get to King's Park in time for a dawn service, which memorialises fallen soldiers, the atrocities of war and generally just says a big no to settling differences with violence. I'm notoriously slow moving and grumpy in the morning, so in 2006 (the last time I was in Oz for ANZAC day) a mate and I drove to King's Park the night before, slept in the car and got up at the last possible minute for the service.

- Buy a poppy to wear; proceeds go to the RSL, who support war veterans (I have no idea why poppies. They don't really flourish in Australia. In fact, I'd never seen a real, growing poppies until coming to France. We probably appropriated this tradition from the Commonwealth, or at least from Europe).



- Watch the ANZAC day parade, which goes through the centre of the city. Marching bands, regiments of soldiers past and current, and family members carrying the medals of relatived who served but have since died. I've marched the parade a few times, once playing the trombone and twice the trumpet. It's a helluva workout for the lips!

- Get blind drunk, preferably at some pub close to the city, straight after the parade. Hey, if it's good enough for the soldiers, it's good enough for me.

Law and Order

Guess what TV show I was wishing that I had watched a bit more of yesterday. Yep, Law and Order, though not because it's riveting drama (which, for me, it isn't). However, some currency with the most commonplace legal terms would have come in handy, because I was asked to interpret between a tourist who had been arrested and his French lawyer (provided by the state as part of his rights as a prisoner).

He wasn't in any serious trouble, the charge was something like being drunk in public, though he exacerbated matters by breaking out of the prison that night. I think the police appreciated that he came back promptly the next morning of his own will (dressed to impress in a suit, rather than his tattered going out/getting drunk/being arrested/breaking out clothes).

Anyway, although it was a piffling little matter, the police still had to go through all the paperwork and follow all the rules (France=bureacracy), one of which was to get a lawyer down to explain the whole procedure to him and inform him of his rights under the law. Which would have worked a treat if the tourist spoke French or the lawyer spoke English. Seeing as neither was the case, I was called in (the mother of the family I work was handling the case).

Really, it's been so long since I've a)watched Law and Order or b)been involved in legal proceedings, that it took me a good 5 minutes to remember the very high up lawyer who decides whether or not pursue legal proceedings against someone or what it's called when the police keep a prisoner under watch!! But once I got into the swing of things, it was really interesting to be the go between, and also, yay me for Frenchiness!!

A Rant

How hard is it to take a step back and see the ways in which one's behaviour has contributed to the current situation and then take measure to rectify one's behaviour and hence the situation? If I'm to judge by watching Baptiste's parents, it's the hardest freaking thing in the world.

The baby is going through (yet another) difficult-to-get-to-sleep phase. It consists of fake crying at bedtime, calling out for mum and dad from his bed (and they answer, they actually answer him, thus engaging him in quasi-conversation and prolonging his sleepnessnes. Stupid.), and more crying (eventually real after the parents get frustrated and scold him for not sleeping).

It only happens when his mum or dad put him to bed at night. By day, when he's with me, he goes down for his nap like a very good boy and without a word. I could be charitable and attribute this difference in behaviour to the night, but last night it was me who put him to bed and he made hardly a peep. I'm really surprised his parents haven't cottoned onto his ruses yet. No wonder he's always so naughty with them -- you get what you're willing to put up with.

I think the secret is not to coddle him. The more one coddles, the more he knows he can get away with murder. His parents coddle him. His grandparents coddle him. It seems sometimes as if everyone coddles him except me. And then they have the idocy to say things like, "He only ever listens to Eugenie." Hello!! Wake up!!

Having done all I can possibly do, short of telling the parents how ineffective their parenting is (which I'm not going to do because it's a) rude, b) preachy and c) not condusive to any actual change for the better), my only other recourse is to wear earplugs, have a couple glasses of whiskey and wait until tomorrow. By then, by dint of some miracle (the miracle being me consistently punishing the child if he is naughty and rewarding him when he is good) he will have metamorphosed into someone completely different, a child who is helpful and obedient, albeit clingy at times and often unable to play independently.

Until 6pm, when his parents come home, and he starts to whine, refuse to eat his dinner, fake cry and generally touch all the forbidden things in which he seems to have no interest during the day. And they will react passive-aggressively and the whole cycle will start over. Woo fucking hoo.

End of rant.

Postscript: It's possible that in some twisted way, they actually like when he's naughty. When he's naughty he doesn't do what he should, and instead cries and wants to be cuddled. I can see how in some twisted way, a disobedient but affectionate child could be quite good for the ego, one could say, "He loves and misses me so much, that he acts like this."

At least, one could say it for the first half hour or so. After two or three hours of it, when one has to go to work in the morning, all that neediness suddenly isn't so great and one snaps and yells, "BAPTISTE! THAT'S ENOUGH!! EVERY NIGHT YOU MAKE SUCH A FUSS!!" [cue crying, or intensified crying from child].

A firm "No. Naughty. Bedtime," within the first two minutes of this bollocks would have nipped it in the bud. Of course, the catch is, the firm and swift command has to be backed up by other firm and swift commands when with the child at any time, and all of THAT has to be backed up by consistent positive and negative reinforcement, all of which is a lot of work, when really, humanity as a whole is just a bunch of lazy gits.

The funny thing is, doing it my way actually works out to be LESS work in the long run. A little bit of consistency is SO much easier than having to deal with his tantrums or, worse (yet exactly what Baptiste's parents do), having to throw tantrums of my own in the hopes of eventual obedience.

French Culture Shock

I'm currently in correspondence with the next au pair for Baptiste. She's only just graduated from high school and I think this is why she's been asking me lots of questions. One which made me think a little bit (more than usual) was if I'd noticed anything particularly interesting about the French culture.

My take on French culture... I think the most extraordinary thing I've noticed is how much American film, TV and music is here! I kind of expected France to have a more independent entertainment industry, but then again, Hollywood has a pretty big monopoly.

I have to say, the thing that I love most about France is the sieste -- not just the sieste itself, but everything it implies. Lunch in Australia (especially for teachers) is a hurried half hour or so when you throw something down your throat with no real regard to what it is or how it tastes. And, as you may have guessed, the way to my heart is through my stomach, so having the time to prepare my lunch properly and eat it at leisure is great. The whole notion of taking the time to really enjoy your lunch and then having a little rest or at least a little bit of chill time where you're not working and not madly rushing around trying to get errands done whilst not at work (which is impossible because everything is closed during sieste, except restaurants) really appeals to me. It's just a more balanced approach to life, rather than using all your time and energy on work.

Something else I've noticed about France is how stylish everyone is -- even in such a small village like Lorgues. Most people here really take the time to do their hair and match their clothes and shoes. There are far too many beauty salons and hair dressers in Lorgues, it's crazy! And the TV personalities here are always dressed and made up impeccably -- no embarrassing paparazzi shots of celebs who have let themselves go here! But then again, France has always been noted for its sense of style. I didn't really notice this until I was in Prague last week, and turning on the TV, or even just walking down the street was a bit of a visual shock. I don't really place too much stock in appearances (as I've previously posted, most mornings I don't even brush my hair and my wardrobe is pretty utilitarian) but without meaning to, I've gotten used to having everyone around me be stylish, even if I'm not!!

All in all, I'd have to say it hasn't really been too much of a culture shock, after all, I grew up in a Western culture (admittedly with Asian influences), and France is part of the West too. If I were to totally stereotype, I'd say that even if there were fairly big differences between French and Australian culture, Aussies are generally easy going enough to just go with the flow no matter what!

About Last Fortnight

Haven't I been quiet lately! It's because I've been in Prague, looking with suspicion out the window at the rain/fog/wind/generally inhospitable weather. True to form, the sun shone merrily on the last day of my stay there.

Despite the meteorological difficulties, I had a lovely time there, cooking, eating, watching movies and generally just chilling out. Oh, but I finally went to see Prague castle -- the most popular tourist attraction in Prague and it only took me until my third visit to the city to go there, hehehe!

An aside: Am I getting old? I'm starting to find that the pros of a night out (getting dressed up, flirting with strangers, drinking myself tipsy, laughing raucously, dancing like a steel town girl on a Saturday night) no longer outweigh the cons (having to make plans, mingling and small talk, irregular sleep, pathetic pick up attempts, lame jokes) so I spent most of my Prague nights snuggled up all cosy and warm... though the weather probably merits that kind of thing anyway!

A second aside: Having had a pretty rough trot with the airline getting back, and having heard that my mum and sister went through something similar with their last trip, I'm wondering, are budget airlines really worth it?

On my sister's flight, someone had accidentally tripped the emergency slide whilst cleaning the plane before take off, so they were delayed whilst the slide was being retracted (or rolled up or deflated or whatever) and on top of that a quarter of the passengers had to be put onto another flight. Then, once rest of the passengers had boarded, the intercom malfunctioned and so they sat on the tarmac for a further 90 minutes while it was fixed.

My first flight to Zurich was delayed by 2 hours, which meant I missed my connecting flight from there to Nice. The airline put me onto the next available flight, but 10 minutes before landing at our final destination, one of the screens stopped working and so we had to turn around, land in Zurich again and wait another 2 hours for a new plane and crew to be called in, before taking off again. I finally arrived in Nice at 2am... 8 hours later than originally scheduled, and ended up spending the night in a hotel because I had another 2 hours of travel in front of me before arriving back in Lorgues. Zounds!!