Liberté, Egalité...Laïcité?

This came up in class the other day and it stirred up a lot of different thoughts, so here goes---- 

"La France est une République indivisible, laïque, démocratique et sociale." 

TRANSLATION: France is an indivisible, secular, democratic and social republic. 

Article 1 of the French constitution, and the French pride themselves on guarding those traits. 

Secularism?  The concept of laïcité was OFFICIALLY instated in 1905 when separation of church and state became viable by law.  Since then, the French have been doing their part on "strictly" upholding this secularism.  But, I think they're just kidding themselves.  

Per Constantine I, the French have adopted the Roman doctrine of refraining from work on Sundays.  But, they've taken it one step further than Ole' Const' by making it AGAINST THE LAW for businesses to open on Sundays.  The law.  Why?  Why because Sunday is the "Lord's Day."  It is holy and it must be respected (you are evil and you must be destroyed).  Apart from markets, Sunday is best identified in my mind by the constant chiming of the church and cathedral bells.  Everything is closed, grocery stores, government buildings, public libraries...school libraries... 

Museums stay open, as do SOME cafés around touristic hubs... which is interesting, but it's probably because they would face so many losses if they shut down.  What would the tourists do?  

Case numero dos: Same sex couples do not have the right to get married.  Wait...it's not that they don't have the right... it's that there's a LAW stating that it is illegal for them to get married.  There is no such thing as domestic partnership either (ie, civil unions).  The reasoning:  the church does not support same-sex unions; ergo, no ceremony for two people of the same sex.  ergo.  OK.  Then go through this "secular" state.  No can do.  The state will not perform unions for homosexual couples.  Why?  Although secular, France still has Christian roots and healthy ties with its religious commissaries.  They don't want no trouble with the big guy upstairs...

From a completely different angle comes this: while the French are in no hurry to give up these "Christian roots," they make it virtually impossible for other religions to play their part comfortably in this society.  The new wave of immigrants (and the old wave, and the even OLDER wave) practicing other religions have difficult times assimilating to the French lifestyle.  And in my opinion, the French... the "vrai" French, would like to keep it this way.  

 Immigrants from Northern Africa (Morocco, Algeria, Tunisia, being the main three) have built rather large communities here (Paris and its suburbs).  Walking down the streets, I hear Arabic being spoken just as much as I hear French.  The Marais is filled with shops and restaurants run by Arab men and women.  

There is such a huge potential for an AMAZING Arab-French fusion.  They have the ability to build a great new culture.  And yet, the French denounce this culture again and again. 

There has been a long-running argument about religious relics being worn in school.  France says no.  No hejabs, no kippas, no crosses, etc.  But of course, that's a problem for a lot of people.  Young girls have gone to school wearing the hejab, only to be sent home again.  But, their parents cant very well keep them home from school now, can they?  

Freedom of religion in this secular society has caused wayyyyy more problems than originally anticipated.  

Moreover, apart from a religious point of view, Parisians have kept the immigrants at an arms-length by completely pushing them OUT of the city.  Go to any suburb of Paris (save maybe two or three) and you will see that it is filled with ONLY immigrants.  They come in, only to be pushed out.  They're labeled as "banlieusards," and they are frowned upon in the city.  I mean talk about creating a sense of hostility, the Parisians are totally stirring the pot!  

You know, everything in the world is ever-changing, ever-evolving.  The Parisians are trying SO hard to keep hold of the culture they used to be famous for.  The philosophers, artists, writers, walking around the avenues of Paris creating masterpieces, practically singing their ideas and theories to the world.  They want to keep a sense of who there were before--the Parisians who broke into the Bastille and sought their independence from the monarchy.  The Parisians who protested their rights and equality on the streets of Paris during the Communards.  They want to be famous for producing thinkers like Sartre, writers like Proust, artists like Monet... and they're so keen on holding on to the past, that they can't see what a wonder a future of new Parisian culture can become.  

I just completely went from secularism to cultural acceptance, but they work hand in hand if you think about it.  I mean, there can be secularism without all the hussle and bussle that France is creating.  And without the hussle and bussle, people can put their energy into rebuilding Paris into a cultural hub.  

Listen to this song: hyperlink, because it's cool 

Je pense donc je suis

Guess who's back, back again?!  Ranna.  So everyone report to the dance floor, dance floor, dance floor, dance floor.

I've been pretty down on the ground lately.  I got sick.  Really sick, actually.  The flu/sinus infection/feeling sorry for myself-itis.  I was alone, I went crazy.  

When I went back to school I couldn't quite get my energy level to the point where it had been before my mishaps.  I tried.  I really did.  Every day I woke up and said, "Ranna, pull yourself together.  You are in PARIS.  Be happy!  Be excited!"  I took Eckhart Tolle around with me every day, hoping that his words would help me get better.  

But, ehhhhhh, the weather was gloomy, it hurt me to swallow, and my hair was (excuse me, still is) RIDICULOUS looking.  

There was a cloud over my head (literally) and I just wanted it to go away.

And I am happy to say, ladies and gentlemen, that today it did.  

I don't know whether it was the blue sky, that we didn't have a verb conjugation test like we had planned, or the fact that I had the absolute BEST sandwich of my life while walking through the Jardin de Luxembourg, but all of a sudden I felt really good.

I think I needed a chance to chill out, take in my beautiful surroundings, and remind myself of where I was, and what I was doing. 

I feel really good right now.  Actually, I feel great.  

But, it's less about my stroll through the gardens, and more about my experience with...dum dum dum....the BUS.

What is Ranna rambling on about, you ask?  WELLLLLLL, let me tell you.

Since I've been here, I've pretty much avoided taking the city bus during the day.  I stick more to the metro, or I walk.  I blame my fear of transportation via bus to a terrible calamity that took place on my very first visit to Paris wherein my mother (as smart as she is) managed to get our family lost in Montmartre very late at night.  The very same night, in fact, when the homeless man with a missing eye decided to hop on the bus for a late night ride, and chose the seat right next to mine.  

I was affected for life.

OK.  I exaggerate.  But seriously, I avoided the bus.  The map was way to hard to understand.

But today, I was like, you know what?  I don't have anything else to do.  Let's do this janxx.  And so I did.  Granted, it took me 3 hours to get home, because I kept hopping off one bus, and getting on another...I don't know why I decided to take the longest route known to mankind.  But I did. 

I was pretty proud when the bus stopped right in front of Maison Blanche.  Hard work pays off... c'mon, it was difficult.

But I really can't wait to take the bus tomorrow, and the next day, and the next day, and the next day.  

It's fun, you know?  It's exactly like the metro, only I get to see the city while I'm at it.  I mean, wow!  It BLEW my mind that Boulevard Raspail hit Rue de Renne hit Saint Germain-de-Pres.  Did everyone know that?  You know what this means?  It means, that I can walk from my school, to Boulevard Raspail, then down Rue de Renne and get to Saint Germain-de Pres.  

Although, it would be a lot easier just to take Boul Mich' instead....nevermind.  

OK, now I really am rambling.  I just... I was typing as I was thinking... because... haha, this afternoon, I thought I was so coy for coming up with the route from Raspail to Saint Germain...without thinking that Sorbonne is like 5 minutes away from it.  

So anyway, yes.  I am here.  I am in Paris.  Thursday is thanksgiving, thats cool.  Dad is visiting on Friday, hella excited.  

Oh but on Thursday, Marion and I are hitting up one of those American bistro's thats serving some good ole fashioned turkey day grub.  So, I have that to look forward to.

Shaabaaammmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm.  

Dedicated to: Aziz Joon.  I love you a lot.  Say hi to Daddy. 

hahahahahahaaa human interaction is great.

I have been sick for the last week.  I have done nothing but stayed home in bed.  

life is just such a mixed bag.  

Montmartre semble triste et les lilas sont morts

My favorite song, thus far, is one by Julien Clerc, "Fait-Moi une Place."  

Youtube's selections were all lacking, but I'm posting this one so that you get to hear the song.  For some reason it starts off during the middle of the first verse, sorry about that.  

The link.  Hyperlink.  Haha.

Today Marion, Arash, Jean-Charles and I trekked our way up to the 18th arrondissement of Paris to visit Montmartre.  This district of Paris is placed on top of the hill, overlooking the rest of the city.  Ever heard of the Basilica of the Sacre Coeur?  Well, its there.  It's interesting because Montmartre was not considered part of Paris during the time Napoleon III and Baron Haussman (the guy who basically renovated the entire city) were doing their thaaang.  Ever since then, it's had it's own sort of vibe.  It's kind of quirky in the sense that it's kept its old school vibes while the rest of the city has really changed with the times.  

I realized today that if I really wanted to find the artistic hub of the city, it was no longer Left Bank, Montparnasse, but Right Bank, Montmartre.  

The view from the very top of the city, right next to the Basilica is unworldly.  I thought Centre Pompidou was good, but this view was even more panoramic and even more...ideal.  It's like you're looking down at the city from the clouds.  The only problem I had (and Marion laughed at me and told me that I should stop behaving like a Parisian) was that the Tour Montparnasse TOTALLY takes away from the view of Paris.  Everything else is so classical and charmant, and then there's this tall building, randomly jutting out from the middle.  I just find it random and unnecessary.  haha.  "Je suis parisienne.   c'est d'accord." 

We went inside the Sacre Coeur and it was absolutely breathtaking in all of its architectural grandeur.  I mean, the way it's built is really unique to any other building in Paris.  The building itself is completely white, while the stained glass windows add a hint of color, causing the inside to have a red glow.  

Millions of candles with burning flames line the walls.  People come from all over the world and light candles and prayer.  The pews are scattered with people sitting, praying, crying.

Marion and Jean Charles, who are both very religious (I actually didn't know this until later) both took lit candle, sat down and prayed. 

I realized how different the experience inside the basilica was for them, than it was for me or Arash.  For us, it was a beautiful building from which we could find pleasure.  It was a historical landmark that needed to be seen.

For them, it was a sanctuary.  A place where their prayers would be heard.  

When they walked out, they were both uncharacteristically subdued.  Marion later told me that praying in the Sacre Coeur today was very paradoxical for her.  She has been having a hard time getting adjusted to life in Paris, she misses her friends and family back home.  So she said, praying, meditating, self-reflecting, they are hard tasks for her.  It was very hard for her to be in that sort of spiritual sanctuary.  And yet, she told me, she felt like it was something she HAD to do.  That the pain she felt in the moment was worth the ease she felt afterwards.

I don't know what else to type after something like that.  It's cold and rainy here a lot, so everyone takes advantage of clear sunny weather like we had today.  It was nice to be outside and take in the fresh air.  

I like Montmartre a lot.  In Marion's words, "I think I go back soon."  

love, Ranna 

im interesting enough to be in the louvre

I just had a really strange night...

I've been sick for the last few days.  It started off as a little cold, turned into a sinus thing, and today its my throat.  I spent the entire day inside, studying, drinking chai and juice, eating soup.  Good times.  

Then Arash (a friend introduced to me by Narges B.-- hollaaa 021), sent me a text reminding me that there was a Sufi concert going on tonight; asking if I was still going.  I was like, "hmmmmmm.  why not?"  It's interesting, its cool, its chill, its chill.  

So I call up my friend Yasna (super cool Swedish-Iranian girl who's in my class) and I'm like, "Yo Yasna, theres this Sufi concert tonight, wanna go?"  

I later found out that she thought I said "sushi concert" but she said yes, nonetheless. 

So around 5:30 Yasna and I met up at the metro near the concert venue, got kind of lost trying to find the place, but finally after asking around a lot reached the spot. 

There were like 7 people randomly standing outside the front of the door, looking at us like someone had just died...

"Are you here for the concert?"

"Yeah."  

"It's been cancelled. "

"It's been cancelled???" 

"Baleh, Ostad geer kardeh Iran."  (The..i dont know...Rosa says its maestro... is stuck in Iran) 

"Geer kardeh Iran???"  (he's stuck in Iran???)

"Baleh, kardanesh zendan."  (Yes.  They've put him in jail.)

"Kardanesh zendan???"  (They've put him jail???"

"Baleh, chon keh........................"  I didnt really understand the reason.  I dont know if Yasna did either.  

So, we're like, great.  What now?  So we decided to go and eat something before we headed back home. 

There are randomly 8 million thousand lebanese restaurants around Paris.  Randomly.  And they all have AMAZING food.  We walk into one of the little restaurants and all of the sudden we hear these people speaking Farsi.  

We giggled a little bit, and ordered our food, and I was like, this is silly, I'll just say hi to them.

WORST MISTAKE OF MY LIFE.

I was like, "Salaam" and right then, one of the guys (he had a hezbollah beard and a loud voice) was like, oh lets get you guys chairs, and you sit here and you sit here, and lets get you settled, and now tell me....

He and his friends were students that came with a larger group from the University of Tehran.  The two other ones, Perssia (pronounced Purse-siyah) and Reza were cool.  But this one, Arash (Arash#2).  I wanted to slap him at the end.  

Every time Yasna and I would open our mouths to say something, he was like "JOOON.  ELAHIIIII.  GORBOONET BARAM!!  CHEGHAD NAZ SOHBAT MIKONII"  

I was like, dude, shut up and let me talk.  

So Yasna and I sat there and ate our food, and they sat there, and when we finished they were like, "Ok, berim McDonalds."  

I was like, um, we just ate?  and i think you did too?  But for some reason we ended up going with them to McDonalds, where Arash and Reza ate ice cream and Perssia, who was actually a really nice girl, I liked her, spoke with us about her life in Iran compared to her life here.

We were having a good conversation, but then Aghayeh Arash-eh gol was like, "Bachehah, quiz."  And he started to quiz us on slang words in Farsi.  Yasna and I were like, baba vel kon.  And we couldnt get up to leave because we were sitting in a booth and somehow we were in the middle.  No way to get out.  Stuck.  

Darab va Sara aab doost darad.  Sara va madar miravan beh baazar. 

I showed them what I knew how to write in Farsi.  they were pretty impressed.

Um.  So anyway.  I just wanted to leave because my throat hurt and I was tired.  And Yasna got so bored that she took out a pen and paper and was drawing. 

 

Oh, haha.  Arash wrote down his name and told us to go youtube him because he was like a musician in Iran and had a bunch of concerts.  I dont remember what his last name was though.

Bichareh was nice, he just talked a lot.  And he couldnt get over the fact that we had never lived in Iran but we spoke Farsi.  Like, he told us that we should be placed in the Louvre because it was so interesting.  

Anyway, after McDonalds, we hastily walked to the metro...not before he asked Yasna if her parents wanted her to marry and Iranian...wink wink, nudge nudge.  

Yasna and I were like, "ok, yeah, khosh hal shodim.. mhm, mhm, ok.. CIAO!" 

Well.  It was random.  But, in retrospect, I wanted to go to the concert to get my fix of Iranianness for the month... this pretty much covered it for the year.