What We Did in London

Fifteen years ago I came to London and fell head-over-heels in love with it.  Today, thanks to my family situation, I think I  might actually have more affection for Paris despite my past love-hate relationship with the city, but London still has a very special place in my heart.

We only had a couple of days here visiting some of my cousins, but we did do many typical touristy things:  took pictures in front of Big Ben; visited Trafalgar Square, Shakespeare's Globe (where we got to watch part of a rehearsal of Troilus and Cressida), and the Tower of London; ate fish and chips; and watched street performers in the lively environs of Covent Garden's Central Market.  My daughter went with her cousin to see a West End show (Sister Act), of course.  

I made some food discoveries:  the soup-and-sandwich chain EAT, where one can get delicious food made with fresh ingredients (I had edamame salad with Thai dressing, delectable pho, and a light sandwich); the cupcakes at the London Review of Books Cake Shop at Bury Place off Bloomsbury Way, thanks to a tip from Shuna; and the  De Gustibus, where I found some absolutely heavenly blueberry cakes and chocolate-dipped brownie sticks.  

We also did some quieter, less flashy things that made this trip even more enjoyable:

My daughter and I enjoyed the brass rubbing center at St. Martin-in-the-Fields, between the gift shop and the crypt café.  Great way to relax on a rainy day.

My whole family enjoyed Cecil's Court, a quiet pedestrian lane just off Charing Cross Road that has some wonderful book shops for those who love browsing.

And finally, the highlight of this visit to London, for me, was All-Hallows-by-the-Tower, a church across the way from the Tower of London and the oldest church in the city (originally founded in 675).  Here the bodies of Bishop John Fisher and Thomas More were sent for a time after their executions; John Adams was married and William Penn was baptized; Samuel Pepys watched the Great Fire of London; and an old Saxon arch was uncovered during a bomb blast.  Here you can find a mariner's chapel, with models of ships hanging from the arches; a brass-rubbing center; and many interesting pieces of art, old and new, including an embroidered banner dedicated to prisoners of conscience.  I came here alone after a long day of sightseeing to recharge at a Taizé prayer service, and it was like drinking cool water after a day of thirst.

Some of the best moments of any trip are those spent finding and enjoying some "hidden treasures."  We've certainly found our share here.

Walking Among 5000-Year-Old Secrets

I hope blogs are considered "personal use" of photographs; those were the rules about Stonehenge pictures.  I cannot believe we were standing right in the middle of the stone circle today.  I don't have word to describe how amazing it was, but I have pictures.  

Stonehenge at dusk:

A portal to an ancient, lost world...

Rain clouds gathering; my husband and son tiny next to the sarsens...

One last look...

My Beef with the American Educational System

After hearing French people talk about their schooling, I am of two minds.  

I think American students should be required to pass a national exam like the bac (or the British A levels) at the end of high school.  We're not held accountable for our learning at ALL in the states.  We should be able to do more than recognize an answer among multiple choices; we should be able to write about our ideas and discuss our knowledge base, such as it is, in conversation.  It's no wonder that French students who pass the bac qualify to start as sophomores in American universities.  They're just held to a higher standard, one I think we should try to emulate.

The problem with the bac as it is right now, according to the French, is that it's a bit of an elitist exam. It's not that every exam that requires some actual critical thinking and expression must, forcément, be elitist.  But the content makes it so, apparently - so perhaps it's time to revise the traditional exam.  I don't know.  

I do know, from my husband's first-hand experience as well from conversations with our French relatives, that the French system can be extremely rigid, inimical to creativity, and inflexible, in that young people are shafted into a particular track early, with little opportunity for transfer should that be their desire later - either because their aptitude in a particular area improves, or because they're miserable in the original track and want to do something else.  I have the American system to thank for being pliant enough to allow an English major to attend medical school; such a path would be next to impossible in France, from what I understand.

I'm still mulling this over.  Neither system is perfect, but it's clear to me that young Americans are in some ways far behind their European counterparts in terms of responsibility for their learning.

A Little French Poetry

J'aimerai toujours le temps des cerises.

C'est de ce temps-là que je garde au coeur

Une plaie ouverte,

Et dame Fortune, en m'étant offerte,

Ne saurait jamais calmer ma douleur.

J'aimerai toujours le temps des cerises

Et le souvenir que je garde au coeur.   

   -Jean-Baptiste Clement (1837-1903)

I will always love the time of cherries.

It's from those times that I hold in my heart

An open wound

and the offerings of Lady Luck

Can never soothe my pain.

I will always love the time of cherries

And the memory I hold in my heart. 

***

So fleeting, these simple pleasures, but these are what I am cherishing here away from the hustle and bustle of the city:

-almost total quiet, except for the crickets chirping, the rooster crowing in the morning, the occasional sheep bleating, and a bell chime or two from the neighboring villages

-the scent of honeysuckle that wafts over me every time I open the back door

-the golden light on the wheat fields in the afternoon

-the kids happily biking to through the medieval village with their French cousins

-white nights till about 10 p.m., then a gorgeous moon over the Normandy fields

-simple meals, ordinary talk, and laughter

Heaven on Earth

Ingredients:

1. The company of cherished loved ones

2. Peaceful, beautiful surroundings with good weather

3. Simple, home-cooked, country fare (today for lunch, a salmon terrine with a salad of tomatoes, cucumbers, and carrots, then home-made sorbets from fruit growing in the garden; for goûter, some chocolate and French bread...)

4. A relaxed pace

5. A great book to read (see below)

***

The Help by Kathryn Stockett is one of THE BEST BOOKS I have EVER read (I haven't quite finished it yet, but part of me doesn't want to - I just want it to go on).  I have not felt this excited about a book since Barbara Kingsolver's Prodigal Summer.  This is Stockett's debut novel, and it is an absolute tour de force - amazing characterizations, gripping story, compelling themes, marvelous voice.  HOW DID SHE DO THAT?!  I say to myself every few pages.  I cannot put it down.

The book is about three women in the 1960's in Jackson, Mississippi - two African-American housekeepers and one young white woman who longs to be a writer and wants to write about them.  It's also about stories and storytelling, truth and lies, having a voice and keeping silence and secrets, writing and how it transformers both writer and reader, and the true meaning of dignity and significance.  Don't miss it!

Passages Couverts

The Passages Couverts of Paris are among her hidden architectural gems.  They are covered passages dating back to the late 1700's to mid 1800's used then and now as shopping arcades. I hadn't heard of them before this year, but when I learned about them, I really wanted to explore them.  

Each one has its own character.  Some are almost unchanged from their 19th-century gas lamp days; others are gritty and modern; some are fancy; some are casual and artsy.  Most of them are  tucked away in the area near the Palais Garnier (Paris Opéra), and their entrances can be easy to miss, but they're definitely worth a leisurely stroll if you've done everything else you want to do.  

We started at the Passage Verdeau, connected with the Passage Jouffroy (my favorite) and the Passage des Panoramas, hit the elegant Galerie Vivienne, with its mosaic floor and fancy book stores, and finished at the Passage Choiseul, which is lined with Japanese take-out and discount clothing stores.  Here's a little photo album of our walk (the picture of art cards above is from the Passage Jouffroy, which has many charming storefronts, a wax museum, the Musée Grevin, and a little hotel, the Hotel Chopin).

Passage des Panoramas:

Galerie Vivienne:

Passage Choiseul:

If it hadn't been so hot today I think we would have taken a stroll through the Jardin du Luxembourg too, a lovely garden among many in Paris.  But it's TOO DARN HOT!!! How can an industrialized nation not believe in a little A.C.?

I'm hoping it'll be cooler in the country. We're off to Normandy tomorrow to visit with more family.  I'm looking forward to the peace and quiet of a village that's barely even on the map. 

Propofol is NOT the Enemy

Propofol (trade name Diprivan) is one of the most widely used anesthetic agents in the world.

In trained hands, it is a useful and versatile agent - one not without risks, but one that can be used safely.

In untrained hands, it can be DEADLY. I repeat:  the stuff we use can KILL people if used by people who don't know how to use it.

I am appalled to have learned that Propofol was found in Michael Jackson's system.  That he had it at HOME.  

For the MILLIONTH time:

The reason trained anesthesiologists and CRNAs are necessary is because anesthesia can be extremely DANGEROUS.  Anesthesia doesn't just involve knocking people out; the important part is bringing them back.  Trained clinicians should be the ONLY people handling anesthetics, and their role as protectors of patients should be understood as just that:  a protective, resuscitative role that must not be underestimated.

DO NOT TRY THIS AT HOME.  Please.  Just don't.