Day 21: Ketchup

Listening to: "Little People" from Les Misérables

Following thoughts I forgot to cover in my zeal:

1. Matt and I have been discussing whether or not it's fair for the plaques in the Louvre to only be in French. I countered that the Smithsonian and Metropolitan Museums, Meccas for art and history lovers, appear to only have English offerings. Matt argued that the Louvre hosts many more cultures, and they expect many other language-speakers simply from being in Europe.

I do wish I had been able to understand some of the plaques. For instance, there was a giant metal ring/wheel thing, and the caption appeared to say something along the lines of "circle made of six elements." What did that mean? I searched the description for mentions of silver, gold, aluminum--but then what if "elements" meant something more symbolic, like fire or water? So was it spiritual in purpose? Or a feat or combining literal metal elements? I don't know.

2. Related to that subject, I was very impressed with the guards. They were strategically placed around all the rooms, sitting in chairs. Some were dressed officially, while some appeared at first glance to be well-dressed tourists. I guess it may be easier to approach someone who's not wearing a suit. Anyway, a poor Japanese fellow was trying to convey something to one of the guards, and the guard responded in Japanese. The Japanese man seemed delighted. I wanted to congratulate the guard for doing his job so well. I wonder if that's a requirement among all Louvre personnel? The scene reminded me of Miracle on 34th Street when Santa Claus speaks Dutch (I believe?) to a little girl who couldn't speak anything but. It warmed my heart. (Note: It was Dutch.)

3. Seeing the men even cleaning the rooms in the Louvre, I felt a pang of jealousy. Sweeping floors only to look up and see angels on the ceiling? I hope it's at least a nice surprise on a crappy day: Oh yes, this is what King Louis VIXII would've looked at. (As you can tell, I just gave up on the Roman Numerals back there.)

4. Tangent! When I was walking down the street one day, a man sweeping the street asked me what time it was. I showed him my watch, and I tried my best to say, "Treize heures et cinquante minutes?" I must've been failing, as he looked at me perplexed. Then, considering me for a moment, he says in English, "Oh, ten to two?" This guy knew better English than I knew French, and I'm paying (well, my parents are) a lot of money to say that I am a student at a university. But next to this guy, I was like one of those sign language gorillas who knows how to ask for grapes. Well, I tip my hat to you, good sir. You are much more culturally aware than I am.

5. There were maps in French, English, Spanish, German, Chinese, Japanese... even more in languages I couldn't identify. They're prepared at the info desk. Much of their job appears to be asking each other, "Where's the one who can speak [some obscure language]?"

6. I chose to wear flats to the Louvre, as I suspected my kickass but clunky boots would not make other museum-goers very happy. Unfortunately, my feet were incredibly blistered by the end of the night, and I was half-running, half-hobbling on the Metro and on the way back to my apartment. People were looking at me. They probably thought it was some weird way that Chinese girls run, much like how my classmates in gym class in middle school would make fun of me. Nope, it's just pain. I may be very critical of China, but I don't want these people to get the impression solely from me that they do whatever weird thing I am doing at the current moment. I guess the same goes for representing America.

7. My cousin Brian reminded me to check my pockets. It was the same situation when visiting in the Sistine Chapel, but I found that I was able to enjoy myself more in the Louvre. It wasn't as crowded, and many people had better cameras than I did, so why would they steal mine? I am taking a page out of Mad-Eye Moody's handbook and practicing constant vigilance, but I'm not going to let paranoia destroy me. Let's hope I don't jinx myself...

8. Matt, I think we should get Chaves to get on this "no Chinese artwork" thing. And if people think they should focus on French art because the Louvre is in France, well, I say: who painted the Mona Lisa?

9. In French, the Mona Lisa is called La Joconde. Why? Beats the hell out of me. Oh, wait: her name was Lisa del Giocondo. But I thought we didn't know who she was? Why am I so ill-informed? I'm going to pull a Chaves here and blame my past teachers, but specifically my fourth grade teacher (because I am snotty student who refuses to take responsibility for the fact that I should know my own damn facts myself).

10. Did you know the Mona Lisa was stolen? Lately I've taken to going back and watching these YouTube videos detailing facts about Paris. For instance: Molière totally died during a staging of his play titled The Imaginary Invalid, as the audience thought his coughing fit was just really good acting. Annnnddddd... Franz Reichelt was way too over-confident in his invention. Seriously, go watch these. They make me seem much more in tune with French culture than I actually am. All I basically do is regurgitate these random facts that mostly no one cares about, hence all the crap about Akhenaten yesterday.

11. Non-English speakers are very fascinated with how we pronounce "th." Like in Katherine. Lots of Europeans want to say "Kah-TER-in." I am totally okay with this. If I had only started learning French, I wouldn't have had to deal with the horror of counting aloud through the 30's in first grade as everyone giggled and my mom bemoaned that my speech would be impeded for the rest of my life.

12. Well, David Sedaris had a speech impediment too. In fact, he pronounced the "th" instead of "s." Kind of the opposite of my problem. Anyway, go read some of his stuff. Seriously. his essay "Me Talk Pretty One Day" from the same-titled book is a hilarious account of learning French as an older person. He really gets reamed out for not knowing that the word "typewriter" in French is a feminine noun. It's hysterical. And since he lived in France for several years, he has more entertaining stories about life here. Apparently you can buy a taxidermied owl here in France, whereas it's illegal in the US. Just in case you really wanted to know. ;)

(P.S. Typewriter = la machine à écrire. If your French teacher ever asks you, so you don't have to suffer the same humiliation as Mr. Sedaris.)

(P.P.S. I wonder if his theory on desserts applies to European men?)

(P.P.P.S. I'm keeping a journal like him. Oh no. I'm going to become completely twisted.)