Expat Life – Page 18 of 18 – Rasmenian Detritus

The France That Americans May or May Not Know

June 18, 2007May 23, 2014 by Rasmenia Comment Closed

Recently, I was asked if there were any strange things about the French, or about living in Paris. Of course, the answer was, "Well, uh...yeah".Many people have heard things about the French or Parisians (because they are not always the same thing) that are pure myth & bullshit...other things are very true & then there are still several other things that most Americans might never have thought of.Just to clarify things a bit, I would like to share with all of you just a few things that I have learned during the past year & a half I have spent here in Paris:1. Personal space is useless. When out in public, it is very important to push, touch, smack, poke & nudge as many people as possible. While waiting in line, ALWAYS stand very close to the person in front of you. You should be able to see the hairs on the back of their neck move each time that...

“Slime, Minus the Human Form”

June 11, 2007July 9, 2007 by Rasmenia Comment Closed

Of course, there are several ways that one can pass the time in a city like Paris. Museums, concerts, parks, the theater...restaurants, bars & of course, the monuments.But, there is one tourist attraction here in the city that you will definitely want to include on your itinerary should you ever make the trip to the City of Lights: the sewers.Yes! That's right! The Paris Sewers - those dark & mysterious pipes running underneath the city channeling poo, urine & all sorts of other exciting unidentifiable objects & fluids nonstop!Here is an exciting glimpse of what you'll see:I'm sure that many of you are thinking, "Well, gee...it probably smells like shit down there, doesn't it?"This is a sewer. It smells like shit. You are likely to make a funny face as an unconscious reaction to the overwhelming funk.If any of you are fans of literature, then you will of course be familiar with the Victor Hugo saga, "Les Miserables"....

A Lesson for the Uncouth: Being Neighborly

May 16, 2007 by Rasmenia Comment Closed

Right, then…so, I've been here in Paris for almost a year & a half, now.I've learned a few things in that span of time. Just a few.Of course, being from a relatively small town in northern Colorado, living here is quite different…people aren't spread out – there are millions of people condensed into a city that really isn't all that big.I suppose it's sort of like living in a really big clown car…Maybe it's just me being an ignorant foreigner, but now that I have spent some time here living among the natives, I now see that I didn't know a damned thing when it comes to living among one another & being neighborly. I mean, I had always thought it was all about being polite, quiet & minding your own business - but, I obviously don't know as much as I thought I did.So, here's what I've learned:1. Don't walk - STOMP. Throw all of your weight on...

I Don’t Even Know What This Is

February 14, 2007July 9, 2007 by Rasmenia Comment Closed

Right then. Someone hung a piece of paper on the wall downstairs. Down there in the stairwell in a not-so-obvious place. Something about the water being turned off for 3 days. Yeah…from 8:30 am to 5pm with no running water. Fuck yeah.Being the bright & clever creature that I am (but haven't always been) I realize that the only solution is to peel my baffled, bewildered & befuddled body from the bed at a halfway decent hour for a change.In another life, this was something that was easy – too easy. So easy in fact, that I had the opposite problem: if I slept past 4am, it had been a good night. If I actually slept for more than 3 or 4 hours, I had a chance of getting through the day with the ability to discern what was a dream & what had really happened.Indeed, it was another life.But, that was living alone…as a reclusive drunk, reeking of cigarettes &...

Parisian Poopie Pigeon Paradise

May 4, 2006July 9, 2007 by Rasmenia Comment Closed

I'm not really sure how it happened...there I was, safe & sound in the dark, snuggled safely with my bottle of Guinness in another Smalltown, USA. When I awoke, I found myself ambling along the streets of Paris, dodging landmines comprised of doggy poo while simultaneously keeping a safe distance from the fearless pigeons. I make my way to the subway station. Sometimes, my metro card works. Other days, there might be an incident that provides me with the opportunity to demonstrate my mind-blowing athleticism as I jump over the turnstile.I sit in the train, my nose buried in a book - something I've gotten in the habit of doing not only to pass the time during the trip, but also to make avoiding eye contact easier.Whoosh - out of the train, out of the metro station...strangers approach, asking questions that I don't understand. Maybe they're inquiring as to my unusually large feet...Sitting in class at the language school that will...