Metz Link

Here's another page that has information about Metz in English!

http://larocheusa.org/Attach5/Default.htm

La Petite Malika - commentaire

Je viens de lire la Petite Malika de Habiba Mahany & Mabrouck Rachedi. La suite est mon commentaire que j'ai mis sur Amazon et Visual Bookshelf.

Ce récit chronologique est dit à la première personne du point de vue de la protagoniste. Il commence lentement, peut-être avec un peu trop du contexte au début du premier chapitre. Mais il accélère vite, et le reste de l'histoire se déroule très bien, parfois avec humour, parfois tristesse, et souvent plein d'espoir pour l'avenir.

Je ne me trouvais qu'en voulant que la protagoniste soit un peu moins objective de ses expériences. Son impartialité la fait sembler un peu trop inaccessible de mes yeux. Mais l'histoire soi-même montre que même une fille surdouée peut apprendre et agrandir (mûrir?).

Normalement j’hésiterais être la première personne à rédiger un commentaire en français, mais je voulais encourager plus des commentaires pour raisons égoïstes -- je voulais voir si mon interprétation a un sens et est au moins un peu correct (j'effacerai le mien sur Amazon si j'ai manqué entièrement le point). J'aimerais lire des autres commentaires sur ce livre -- j'accueille vos avis ici ou des liens aux autres commentaires.

Touché

La vie passe

en attendant le train

Berkeley, CA USA, 28 août 2010

 Un nombre incalculable des gens touchent nos vies. Quelques restent avec nous jusqu'au bout. Quelques ne restent qu'un moment. J'avoue être sentimentale et me cramponner à ceux dont le temps est arrivé à poursuivre leur route.

L'internet fait possible la capacité pour toucher des tels plus des gens qu'avant. Grâce à blogging, ceux qui je ne faisais jamais la connaissance autrement ont touché ma vie. Comme ceux qui je connais face-à-face quelques relations ont perduré et quelques se sont émoussé. Et comme avec ceux qui je connais face-à-face chacun de ses relations m'a aidé à apprendre et mûrir.

Maintenir la vie

Des abeilles ramassent  du pollen

sur Cirsium vulgare (Onopordum acanthium?)

Canal du juoy, Metz, France juillet 2009

Mais l'internet fait aussi la capacité pour maintenir les liens qui demandent être libéré. Grâce à statuts et tweets on tient ces liens ténus indéfiniment et avec plus des gens. Avec un billet banal de 150 caractères ou moins on maintient la communication avec centièmes des gens, au moins superficiellement.

Mais même pendant je désire ces communications être plus profondes elles restent superficielles. Et puis moins fréquent. Et bien que je sais il vaut mieux lâcher et concentrer sur ceux qui sont présents ou font autrement le temps pour moi ou qui ont quelque chose plus profond à offrir, je manque de trouver la force de quitter complètement. Alors je continue à taper 150 caractères ou moins dans une vaine tentative de faire quelque chose à partir de rien.

Nouveau Roman d'un Ami

Voir l'océan pacifique pour la première fois
Seeing the Pacific Ocean for the first time

San Francisco, CA USA octobre 2009
J'ai fait la connaissance de Mabrouck Rachedi pendant un Salon du Livre à Metz en juin 2009. On a resté en contact et a passé un jour en explorant San Francisco quand il était ici quelques jours en octobre pendant son temps avec l'Université d'Iowa programme d'écriture. Et maintenant, j'oserais dire qu'il compte parmi mes plus chers amis, au moins à distance!

J'ai eu le privilège de lire ses romans précédents pendant cette dernière année et quoique mon français est un peu faible, j'ai apprécié ses œuvres.  Il écrit avec l'humour qui atténue les effets des circonstances qui peut être un peu triste ou au moins doux-amer.

Alors c'est avec plaisir que je vous annonce (à mon seul lecteur!) la sortie de son nouveau roman qu'il a écrit avec sa sœur Habiba Mahany, La Petite Malika. Malika sortira le 15 septembre chez JC Lattès dans les librairies en France et sur amazon.fr. J'ai hâte de la lire!

 I met Mabrouck Rachedi during a book fair in Metz in June 2009. We stayed in contact and explored San Francisco one day when he was here for a few days during his tenure with the University of Iowa Writing Program. At this point, I'd be so bold as to say he is one of my best friends, at least from afar!

I had the privilege of reading his previous novels this past year and although my French is weak, I enjoy his work. He writes with humor, which has the effect of softening what can sometimes be sad, or at least bittersweet, circumstances.

So to you, my one remaining reader (hi Martina!), I am pleased to announce the release of his new book, La Petite Malika, on September 15, cowritten by his sister Habiba Mahany, by publisher JC Lattès at bookstores throughout France and at amazon.fr. I can't wait to read it!

Mabrouck Rachedi a aussi écrit / Mabrouck Rachedi has also written:
Le poids d'une âme, Lattès, 2006
Eloge du miséreux, Michalon, 2007
Le petit Malik, Lattès, 2008

Habiba Mahany a aussi écrit / Habiba Mahany has also written:
Kiffer sa race, Lattès, 2008

Bonne Fête

Un ami m'a dit que les feux d'artifices sont pour les enfants et vraiment l'argent (public) jeté par les fenêtres. Peut-être ils sont gaspillage, mais je les aime quand même. On devrait prendre un peu du temps pour apprécier les petits luxes de la vie de temps en temps. Ci-dessous le feu d'artifice pendant la fête nationale à Plan d'Eau de Metz l'année dernière. Ils me font sentir comme une jeune fille à nouveau.

A friend told me that fireworks are for kids and a waste of (public) funds. Maybe they are a waste, but I still love them. On occasion, we should take a little time to appreciate life's little luxuries. Below, last year's fireworks display during the fête nationale in Metz at the Plan d'Eau. They make me feel like a kid again.

 The beginning: clear, blue sky

Au début: le ciel bleu et clair

 

Letting loose at the end 

Liberer à la fin

Le Mois de la Poésie (états unis)

Statue sur la rive de la Moselle

Metz 2009

Hélas, je ne suis aucun poète, je n'ai rien de la mienne d'offrir.  Alors je pique d'un autre.  Le printemps est arrivé sur le calendrier -- mais il fait toujours froid, du vent et il pleut – et les pensées tournent autour l'amour.  Qui est meilleur qu'un amant latin? Et quel amant latin est meilleur que Pablo Neruda pendant son temps avec Mathilde?


La 3 ème et dernière femme de Neruda, Matilde Urrutia, était sa muse pour les 100 Sonnets, et pour les poèmes d'amour des Vers du Capitaine, et Bacarole. Quand je lis ces sonnets, je me peux imaginer comme une femme qui inspire et promeut la grandeur dans l'homme qu'elle aime, que je suis quelqu'une en qui un autre voit quelque chose si chère qu'il est motivé juste de son essence. Bien que dans la réalité je ne suis pas fait pour être une muse.  Je suis trop cynique d'être une inspiration pour qui que ce soit.

Sonnet XVII

Je ne t'aime pas comme rose de sel, ni topaze
Ni comme flèche d’oeillets propageant le feu:
Je t’aime comme l’on aime certaines choses obscures,
De façon secrète, entre l’ombre et l’âme.

Je t’aime comme la plante qui ne fleurit pas
Et porte en soi, cachée, la lumière de ces fleurs,
Et grâce à ton amour dans mon corps vit l’arôme
Obscur et concentré montant de la terre.

Je t’aime sans savoir comment, ni quand, ni d’où,
Je t’aime directement sans problèmes ni orgueil:
Je t’aime ainsi car je ne sais aimer autrement,

Si ce n’est de cette façon sans être ni toi ni moi,
Aussi près que ta main sur ma poitrine est la mienne,
Aussi près que tes yeux se ferment sur mon rêve.

Ma compréhension de la langue espagnole est terrible mais les paroles comme écrit de Neruda coulent avec lyrisme quand on les parle.

No te amo como si fueras rosa de sal, topacio
o flecha de claveles que propagan eñ fuego:
te amo como se aman ciertas cosas oscuras,
secretamente, entre la sombra y el alma.

Te amo como la planta que no florece y lleva
dentro de sí, escondida, la luz de aquellas flores,
y gracias a tu amor vive oscuro en mi cuerpo
el apretado aroma que ascendió de la tierra.

Te amo sin saber cómo, ni cuándo, ni de dónde,
te amo directamente sin problemas ni orgullo:
así te amo porque no sé amar de otra manera,

Sino así de este modo en que no soy ni eres,
tan cerca que tu mano sobre mi pecho es mía,
tan cerca que se cierran tus ojos con mi sueño.

Crédit Photo

Une de mes photos a été utilisé dans un article à propos de Gay Pride de Metz.  Merci à Tetu de me donne la référence (donner une crédit pour une photo pris de l'internet est rare)...

http://www.tetu.com/actualites/france/gay-pride-de-metz-la-municipalite-epinglee-par-la-halde-15476

«Malou» de Zaz Chalumeau

J'ai fait la connaissance de Zaz, un écrivain de la Lorraine, à l'Eté du Livre à Metz en juin quand j'ai acheté son roman «Mémoires d'un Labrador».  Je lis encore cette histoire (oui, je lis lentement ... et extrêmement lentement en français), et je le trouve une histoire réconfortante du point de vue d'une chienne.

Zaz vient de sortir son dernier roman, Malou, la suite de La Lavandière d'Igney en autoédition.  La saga suit une famille au fil d'un siècle, et je crois que Malou soit le deuxième de quatre volumes.  On peut commander ses oeuvres directement de Zaz de son site: http://zazecritoire.unblog.fr/

Les Oiseaux en Juillet

J'ai trouvé plus des photos des oiseaux d'une promenade au Jardin Botanique de Metz et Canal du Juoy pendant juillet.  Pleins des mères avec leurs bébés!

I found more bird photos from a walk at the Botanical Garden of Metz and Canal du Juoy in July.  Lots of moms with their babies!

 Anser anser (embden) @ Jardin Botanique de Metz

Une oie d'Embden avec son bébé.

Embden Goose with her baby.

Anser anser @ Jardin Botanique de Metz

Une Oie Cendrée pose pour moi.

A Greylag Goose poses for me.

Ardea cinerea @ Canal du Juoy

Un Heron Cendré pêche dans le Canal.

A Grey Heron fishing in the Canal.

Fulica atra @ Canal du Juoy

Une Foulque Macroule a essayé de cacher son bébé derrière des buissons.

A Common Coot tried to hide her baby behind some bushes.

... et une de la Moselle la semaine prochaine.
... and one from the Moselle the following week

Cygnus olor

Un Cygne Tuberculé / Muet s'attend la nourriture à moi.

A Mute Swan expects food from me.

Small Kindnesses

I have been fortunate to have two kindnesses bestowed on me in a short time frame.

One day, my friend, Mickaël brought a bouquet of roses that his aunt, Zora, had picked up for me. Both Zora and Mickaël had taken time (their days are mentally and physically demanding, and often long) to pick out and bring me the flowers. It was a beautiful gift, given with no expectation other than the wish to make me happy.  It made me cry.  I decided that this bunch was special enough to try to preserve. I pressed two of the roses to make it easy to transport home to California, where they will be displayed in glass.

The rest of the flowers have been dried, and are currently in the town of Cluses in the French Alps, near Geneva, with the bestower of the second kindness. Didier is one of my oldest friends. I have not seen him in over 20 years, but he is storing four boxes totaling four square meters and 20 kg of my junk for me.

For whatever reason, my perceptions of my life experiences have made me a glass half empty sort of person, but I want to believe in happy endings.  Since these two people brought happiness to me with their kindness, I think this is a good time to close this book with a happy ending. My time in Lorraine came to an end far too soon, but I hope to return soon, and if I do, I may just reopen it! Until then, please feel free to visit me on my main blog, Mindless Meanderings of a Middle-Aged Maniac (click on the blog name to get there from here).

Pour mes amis à la Lorraine, j'espère de vous voir bientôt.  Ma porte est ouverte à vous, où que ça soit!

Below, one of my final views of Paris on this trip, from Gare de l'Est.  Across the street at l'Ecu (on the right), my new favorite Parisian waiter, Chris, works breakfast.  Okay, technically, he isn't Parisian, he's English!  If Chris worked at l'Insulaire, my favorite restaruant (thanks to my sister for bringing me there), that would be the perfect combination for me.

Temple Evangélique de la Garnison

Built at the beginning of the German annexation from 1875 to 1881, the construction of this church was overseen by soldiers (primarily Protestant) stationed in Metz.  Positioned across the Moselle from Cathédrale St Étienne, its 97m high façade, 1m higher than the Cathédrale's tour de Mutte, was a symbol of the Prussian presence that was visible everywhere.

For a region that has been German a few times, most recently less than a century ago, I met very few Metz natives who actually spoke German.  One worked in sales at the train station.  The other spoke German at his place of work in Geneva.

Damaged during World War II, then ravaged by fire in 1946, the three naves of this church were destroyed.  Only the tower of this neo-gothic building was preserved.

I was not a fan of gothic architecture, but now that I have seen examples of it in person, executed by craftsmen, I have developed an appreciation for it.  The temple was constructed of the local pierre de Jaumont stone.  The photo below is a daylight example of bare pierre de Jaumont on a more modern building, I think it was a house.  Its small, irregular stones had been plastered over at some point, as opposed to the custom cut slabs which were left bare on the church.

 

Getting Around

I am a walker.  If I can accomplish something within walking distance of home, I'll hoof it, rather than pull out my beloved midlife crisis convertible.  But if I actually have to leave town, I admit I drive rather than take the train, mainly because the commuter train near my house (Caltrain) comes only once every one to two hours during non-commute times (and they are cutting back service and raising fees at the end of this month), so every outing must be planned carefully.  It almost seems as though Caltrain does everything it can to discourage ridership.

I had no car in Metz, but on the days I left town for a day or two, I rode the train, rather than hire a car, for many reasons.  First and foremost, Europeans drive fast!  But also ... local trains (called the MetroLor in Lorraine) come more frequently, even during non-commute hours, the discount systems are better than those of any of the Bay Area's commuter rail systems, all their announcements are in multiple languages, and their speakers work, so you can hear the announcements.  Plus, I actually prefer to ride, rather than drive, because I can catch up on my reading.

Yep, I will miss the MetroLor.  A lot.

Open Sundays

I come from a land where retailers do their biggest business when others are not working, and food can be purchased 24 hours a day, every day.  So, one of the biggest culture shocks for me was discovering that French retailers are closed during lunch, on Sundays and all holidays.  Luckily, there were two markets within a five minute walk from my apartment which were open on Sundays, including Marché Plus, pictured (my scribbled additions in purple, lower right).

With my current "job" (in quotes because the company is unfunded and I work from home without pay in hopes it will be funded) the largest problem with the store hours issue was remembering the day of the week and holidays.  Thus, when I complained to my significant other, he granted nothing resembling sympathy!  Yes, he was right, I just needed to adjust to the system.

But I can also see how the system was built for those who have someone to call on, for partnerships where one partner manages the domestic realm while the other is out earning a living.  It was not built for those like me.  When I need something, the only one I have to call for help is myself, and handling little issues that can pop up unexpectedly would have been difficult if I had a standard office job.

I appreciate the mobility the path I have chosen has afforded me and am grateful for having met wonderful people.  But I also envy those who have a partner to come home to, someone with whom not only duties can be shared, but also little things that create happy memories -- walks, talks, dorky games, or just quietly enjoying each-others' company.  Sometimes I wonder if the system is right and I have chosen the wrong path, but even if that were true, I have depended solely on myself my entire adult life.  It would be very difficult to switch, now.

Walking along the Moselle

One of my favorite places to walk in Metz is along the Moselle. There is something soothing about being near the water for me. Where the river hits centre ville, the walkway along the banks turns into a wooden promenade, with a cement wall leading up to the streets above.

As I walked along the promenade one day, I noticed iron rings attached to the wall at different heights (photo). It took a few minutes for me to figure out the promenade is over the water and that the rings are old mooring rings. I do not know how long the promenade has existed or how long it has been since a boat tied up to one of these rings ... a few years? A few decades?

Life is for the living

I am hopelessly attracted to plants growing where they "shouldn't" be. There is something about the tenacity of a seed that manages to wedge itself into a crack in stone or cement, germinates, collects what nourishment it can in what seems a barren environment, and clings to life so beautifully. So when I happened upon this snapdragon growing out of the sidewalk near Place Saint Louis during one of my walks, I had to capture its image. On those occasions when life feels just a bit too overwhelming, images such as this remind me that improbable does not mean impossible.

Centre Pompidou - Metz

Named after former President Georges Pompidou, the Centre Pompidou in Paris, with its libraries, music institute, educational centers, and of course, its huge collection of modern art, is one of the most important centers for contemporary art in the world. Next year, the Centre is expanding its reach by opening a satellite campus in Metz. Like Parc de la Seille in my entry last week, the Centre is in the new Amphitheatre District of Metz, just opposite the train station, and about a 15 minute walk to the city center.

A project goal is to open the Centre's extensive collection to a wider audience. It will be interesting to see what effects traffic to the Centre has on the local economy, as well.

I walked by the construction site on my walk to Fort de Queuleu in May. It was still just a frame at that point. You can see its current state at the Centre Pompidou - Metz website, and the Centre Pompidou Information Page.

The Butcher, the Baker, the Candlestick Maker

Food and drink prices in Metz seem to be slightly lower than prices in the Bay Area. Okay, maybe that is an unfair comparison, but one thing that France offers in spades is an abundance of bakeries with offerings varying from satisfyingly crunchy baguettes, hearty multi-grain breads, flaky croissants, rich beignets, and decadent tartlets. Alas, the day of the small specialty bakery is pretty much dead in the U.S. They have been replaced by the bakery sections of the chain supermarkets.

I can think of four bakeries offhand within a three minute walk of my apartment. But the one I frequented most was José (and Eugénie) Soto around the corner, a small, family-run business (as most are). That's José smiling in the photo -- you can see him better if you click on the photo to enlarge it. I have mentioned before that the people are what make any place and any business special, and this is no exception. I was always greeted with a hello and a warm smile, and sent away with a thank you and have a nice day. I am a big fan of their baguettes.

José Soto Boulanger Patissier
31 rue Pasteur
57000 Metz
06 87 66 67 38

Parc de la Seille

Developed between 2000 and 2002, Parc de la Seille, on avenue de l'Amphithéâtre, was one of the first projects built in Metz's new Amphitheatre district, just south of the train station and the new Centre Pompidou. The paths meandering through the park pass along the Seille, through flower beds, and by the athletics facilities, where I shot baskets at the end of May with an after-school director and a local teen. This gold-toned giant needle is at the top of a hill in the Park. I took a bunch of photos, then walked all around it, looking for some kind of information on it, but got nothin' ... and I was starting to creep the sunbathers and couples out with my camera ... so, I can't tell you anything about it!

Parc de la Seille was developed not only as a pleasant spot for people to enjoy, but also as a preserve, and on the walks I have taken there, I have seen several species of birds flitting about ... alas, I know nothing about birds, so I can only say with a relative amount of certainty that I have seen crows (or is it ravens?) hopping about and a group of ducks making their way along the Seille. No photos of them, though. They moved too quickly!

The park has both raised beds with each species of flower in its own section, as well as wetlands bordering the river. This little blue flower at left was in the latter, and is about 2 cm (1 inch) in diameter, if that. In my Lorraine Flora album, there is also a vibrant orange flower of about the same size.

From the websites where I learned about its background, the Park has lighting, enabling night-time visits. Unfortunately, I never took the opportunity to do that, although I think I would have liked it. Learn more about Parc de la Seille...

- Mairi-Metz
- Tout-Metz
- Loisirs et Sorties

Living to Tell About It

A cycad, blue sky, fluffy white cloud, bright sun, must be a tropical island! But no, it is Northern France, and as I take this photo, I am lying on the steps in front of Metz Gare, enjoying the warmth and the light.

In front of me, the summer plant display is a mix of ornamentals and edibles: echinacea; dahlias; salvias; rosemarinus; basilicum; tomatoes; squash; and legumes. The city gardeners are tending the display, fixing planter boxes, deadheading, pruning. I like the rotating plant displays. In California, public spaces tend to have permanent, low-maintenance plantings, which can be boring after awhile. Granted, taxes are higher in France, but...



Last night, I headed out in search of a klezmer concert. I must have misread the flyer, or missed it (as usual, I was late). Probably a good thing, as I am not a huge klezmer fan, I just wanted something to do! But I made it to a hill I discovered early on (I photographed it, but the light settings on my camera were wrong that day). There is a terraced garden there, the Jardin des Tanneurs, and that area was occupied by tanners until the Middle Ages (a branch of the Seille used to meander through). I hoped to re-photograph it, but a man lurking on a set of stairs started to walk in pace with me, staring. I think he was looking for drugs. I stared back. Hard. And he left. I did manage a few shots of the Quartier des Allemands from one of the terraces, though. It is an interesting mix of buildings.

I walked towards home, and a block from Metz Gare, a car slowed down. A man asked directions to some square I'd never heard of. Since it is a red light area, I assumed he was looking for something I wasn't about to give him, so I said, "desolée, je ne la connais pas, je suis americaine, je ne suis pas de Metz! (sorry, not familiar with it, I'm American & not from Metz," and continued on my way.

Several blocks later, a car slowed down. I was getting annoyed. It was the same guy! He asked if I would have a drink with him. "I'm sorry, I have a boyfriend." He was undeterred. So ... we had drinks and pizza, and when I told him I'm in finance/accounting, he looked sufficiently scared of me that I was pretty sure he wouldn't attack me (I'm paranoid that way). His name is Eric, he's in wholesale meats and lives in Switzerland. I think he just wanted learn a little English -- he spoke a combination of French and German to me, and would ask what different words were in English. 90 minutes later, Eric dropped me off in front of my apartment, shook my hand and drove off. And my faith in humanity makes a bit of headway....

Expressions

From gang symbols and rebellious teenage statements, to doodles and elaborate artwork, graffiti is everywhere. Just as varied as the content, are the reactions to it ... blight on humanity, sign of declining neighborhoods, defacement of property, art, political statement, any combination of those. And yes, it exists in Lorraine, too.

At left, Police Everywhere Justice Nowhere, is in a tunnel by Fort de Bellecroix. I thought it a fitting description of our post-9/11 world. Governments have taken our freedoms and privacy under the guise of security. But we are no safer than before, although considerably more impinged upon, inconveniences paid for by our taxes. You can see more angst-filled statements from this tunnel in my Street Expressions Album.

The green guy at right is more innocuous in appearance, and one of a series painted on the flower boxes on a bridge over the Digue de la Pucelle here in Metz. They seem to be sanctioned by the city, since all the boxes seem to have been painted by the same person. There are also more of this series in my Street Expressions Album.


Okay, so this isn't graffiti. But the title of the album is Street Expressions, and well, I saw this display in someone's yard as I was walking down the street. I find this still life of children's toys and garden gnomes odd, creepy and fascinating. Did an adult set these up, or did a child create his or her own little world?

I often wonder how others feel about expressions, sanctioned or taboo. In a recent blog entry, Zaz discusses her dilemma with Freedom of Expression. As a writer, self expression is important for her, but as a mother, she found it impossible to defend a rapper who had been banned from a music festival for lyrics that were racist, misogynistic, and violent.

On the other hand, another friend of mine, who is a father, told me he is against censure because it gives more power to the target group. To wit, I believe that the rapper in question has had a surge in downloads of his work since that date.

I am not a parent. Nor does my livelihood depend on artistic expression. But I am a member of an ethnic group that has faced socio-political discrimination. I am inclined to agree that censure tends to grant power to the target, and often forces the movement underground, where it is more difficult to track. In this respect, I would much rather have someone's feelings out in the open.

I once had a student who felt a strong revulsion to Asians. Her sole experience with Asians had been a family who lived across from her, and they happened to be slobs. She was from a small town, where the "wrong" influences were strong, and ended up in prison, where racist tendencies were reinforced due to the way inmates tend to group themselves. After her release, she forced herself to deal with her issues, and did that very much out in the open, and this Asian spent many evenings after class discussing her progress with her. I appreciated her candor and efforts to overcome her issues. It was important that she express how she felt and why she felt that way, no matter how ugly those feelings were, in order to work through them. Interestingly, I was disappointed by other peoples' reactions when I described her and her efforts. People I had thought were open-minded were quick to condemn her, completely overlooking her background and the fact that she was working hard to evolve her way of thinking. I did not see the same efforts from them.

I would love to hear how others feel about the freedom of expression, artistic, social, political or otherwise. My door is always open.

In this, my final weekend in Metz for quite possibly a long time, I am a bit sad. There are so many things I still want to see and experience here, but I am out of time on this run. And as luck would have it, I'm fighting off a cold and feeling a little run-down, so I stayed relatively close to the apartment and packed a few items this weekend, rather than go anywhere interesting.