Visitors, Trips, Birthing Classes, and Immigration Woes

We are rather falling behind in our writing of blog posts. Sorry, dear readers! As the end of my pregnancy draws nearer, it seems there are a plethora of tasks as well as hours of research begging to be done. But we will do our best to keep up with the updates. Here are some of the things we've been busy with recently.

First of all, last weekend we had a lovely quick visit with Micah, another dear friend from Columbus. Micah happens to be the younger brother of Soraya, who we saw in London in April. Just four more people to go and we will have been visited by their whole family! Micah, who is studying history at Ohio State University, was part of a school tour of European historical sites. He visited Ireland, England, France, Poland, and Germany, and we were lucky to get to take him out to dinner before he left Paris. We sampled the delicious, if not-so-French, cuisine of Loulou's Friendly Diner (excellent burgers and gluten free buns too!), walked around the Saint Germain des Prés area of Paris (the Middle Ages Museum is cool--it features a Roman-era bathhouse), and walked up to the Panthéon, the huge domed secular mausoleum where notable French citizens are buried. Then naturally we found a fancy chocolaterie, Maison Georges Larnicol, where we oohed and ahhed and Micah bought some treats to take back with him. It's always wonderful to see friends from our old home!

Micah came to visit!

We also spent about 16 hours that same weekend taking a childbirthing and newborn care class that was put on by and for the English-speaking members of Message, a group for anglophone parents in Paris. I will write a post soon with more information about Message, as it's been a lifesaver for us in navigating pregnancy in France. But for now, I'll say that the birthing class was excellent! It was attended by five couples from American, English, Scottish, French, and German backgrounds, and was taught by a lovely and knowledgable English lady who received training from the UK's National Childbirth Trust. It was a great opportunity to meet others in the same boat as us, trying to navigate the confusing waters of grossesse en France. We learned a lot, shared our experiences, hopes, and fears, and made some friends and supporters in the process.

Last week, Rory was finally able to make his re-scheduled trip to the Netherlands. He had been invited to give a presentation at the Max Planck Institute for Psycholinguistics in Nijmegen back in March, but with the Brussels terrorist attacks happening the day he was meant to leave, his train was cancelled. This time he made it to the Netherlands without incident and enjoyed presenting his research to a group of linguists. Afterwards, he spent a few hours wandering around Amsterdam, being impressed by the half-moon-shaped belts of canals and the huge number of bicycles on the streets.

Canals of Amsterdam

On a less exciting note, I had my long-awaited convocation at the police prefecture for my carte de séjour (my French residence permit). I'd waited for this since my last appointment in January, and at this appointment I should have, in theory, been given the green light to actually receive the real permit in about a month or so. However, we moved to a new flat in a département (an administrative district in France; bigger than a county but smaller than a state) outside of Paris in the intervening months. Since cartes de séjour are handled by each département separately, the best they could do for us was to renew my récépissé for a month (a receipt which allows me to live in France for a couple of months at a time), and tell me to make an appointment at the prefecture in my new département. I suspect the process (ongoing for the last 7 months) will have to be started again almost from scratch at the new place, so I'm not overjoyed about this development. C'est la vie française. 

More soon to come! Have a great week, everyone!

Pregnant in Paris, Part 2

28 weeks along with our new poussette

A lot has changed since I last wrote about my experiences of being pregnant in Paris. For one thing, I was considerably smaller back then. Now our beginning-of-third-trimester baby is packing on the pounds and so am I. Despite what feels like a hugely noticeable change in my body, I still get comments from people to the effect of, "You're barely showing!" Keep in mind, dear friends, that whether you say, "You're huge!" or "You're so tiny!" to a pregnant woman, it's probably the opposite of what she wants to hear. You've been warned.

I've heard from others moms in Paris that France is the place to be if you're pregnant. There are special check-out lanes for you at supermarkets, you can cut to the front of the line in many situations, people are supposed to give you their seat on the bus or subway, and you're just generally treated like a rock star. Plus, once you actually have the baby, French men in particular seem to have been trained to help mothers with strollers whenever needed, such as carrying the stroller down the stairs to the metro station. There is apparently a lot of kindness and consideration here for those who are gestating.

But I haven't really experienced it yet. Not much, anyway. The one time I was offered a seat on the metro was when Rory was very obviously rubbing my protruding tummy. I've seen it happen to other pregnant women though, so maybe the perks will start coming when I've gained a few more inches in girth. And as for the special lanes in stores, or people letting you go first, well, those special lanes are usually clogged with normal-appearing people, and no one has yet offered to let me skip a queue. But we shall see.

The healthcare puzzle

In my last pregnancy post I mentioned the French health care system, or what little we understood of it at the time. I think I have a better handle on it now, though figuring out the sécurité sociale (how one is reimbursed by the government for healthcare expenses) and what to do in case of grossesse (pregnancy) has been more challenging than I anticipated. It's rather like being told to put together a jigsaw puzzle for which you have been given only half of the pieces and no final picture to aim for. You have to find the remaining pieces by yourself with no instruction on where to look. Oh, and by the way, it's a 5000-piece Impressionist painting jigsaw puzzle. Bonne chance!

Briefly, the hunt to acquire a social security number for myself has gone something like this.
-Learn that I can be attached to Rory's social security number. Rejoice!
-Learn that I can't be attached to Rory's social security number. Despair!
-Call an English helpline and be told to fill out a form, put together a dossier, then go to a CPAM office to ask for a social security number.
-Get to the CPAM office and be told to mail them the dossier instead and wait two months for a response.
-Proceed to wait, hearing nothing, while still paying for monthly doctor's and medical lab visits out-of-pocket.

The plot thickens...
Meanwhile, around February, I registered for auto-entrepreneur status (translation: self-employment) for the teaching work I've been doing. I received complex documents in French regarding paying taxes on my business earnings, but no concrete steps on how to do so or on how to obtain healthcare coverage with this status. Suddenly! I received a letter saying I had been registered with the RSI, the social security/healthcare coverage organization for auto-entrepreneurs. The what?? I had no idea this even existed. And voilà! Just like that they gave me a social security number! Had I not become an auto-entrepreneur, I suspect I would still be waiting for my number and going back and forth with the CPAM office.

Now that I'm finally in the social security system, one might think it would be straightforward from here on out. Alas, this is France.

So shortly after this revelation happened, I spent three weeks in the US and we moved to a new apartment just outside Paris. Thus, I received no more letters or instructions and couldn't access any online systems to update my address. With varying success, I tried to contact the various organizations in charge of my health care and tax status and ask for information, and I've now managed to update my address with all but one. I recently learned who to inform about my pregnancy and who I should contact about healthcare cost reimbursement, which was really my goal in the first place. So I feel cautiously optimistic that things are finally looking up.

Ever so slowly I am finding these hidden puzzle pieces and the picture is starting to take shape. Now all we have to do in the next three months is buy most of our baby gear, prepare for giving birth, learn how to take care of a baby, figure out taxes, start getting reimbursed for healthcare, receive my French residence permit, and find all of the remaining thousand or so puzzle pieces that constitute our life in France. NBD.  

Le printemps est arrivé

Spring is finally here! The weather has turned around, and after a few driech weeks of grey rain, it's sunny and warm. It's about 20C (68F) today, and this weekend it's supposed to get up to 25C (77F). That's summer weather as far as I'm concerned!

A view of the Seine from the Pont de Bercy. In the distance you can see the Pont Charles-de-Gaulle, beyond that the Viaduc d'Austerlitz (with a métro train on it), and behind that you can just make out the piers (the parts that descend into the water). of the Pont d'Austerlitz. There's a Wikipedia article on Paris bridges if you want to know more.

Nice weather means that the Parisians want to go out to enjoy it. Things get pretty busy!

The crowds at the Jardin de Luxembourg. In the distance is the Église Saint-Sulpice.

Last Sunday was May Day, which is a national holiday in France, although it was a Sunday so people were off work anyway. Talia and I decided to take a trip to the Parc de Sceaux. This is a large garden in the suburb of Sceaux (pronounced "so"), formerly the grounds of a stately home (and historically a castle). It's about 30 minutes by commuter train from the centre of Paris. The park was busy, but nowhere near as busy as anywhere in Paris!

There's a huge "canal" through the centre of the park.

And some really beautiful water features.

Us! I'm struggling to keep my eyes open in the sun. See the beautifully-tended gardens behind us!

The old country mansion at the centre of the park has a museum inside, but being a Sunday (and a public holiday), it was of course closed. No matter, as it was absolutely delightful being outside and strolling around in the sun with a gentle breeze blowing. I hope you're enjoying the weather wherever you're reading this from.

A trip to London

Last week we went to London to see Soraya, a dear Baha'i friend from Columbus. She was just on her way out of the UK after studying in Oxford for a term. It's easy to forget how close London and Paris are - it's just 2 and a half hours by train from city centre to city centre. London is closer to Paris than it is to Glasgow, and Paris is closer to London than it is to Marseille!

So, it wasn't difficult to hop up to England to see Soraya. We had planned to visit the New Southgate cemetery, which is where Shoghi Effendi (the leader of the Baha'i Faith from 1921 to 1957) is buried. It's a little far from central London so I think Soraya appreciated us being able to help her with directions and navigating the tube.

A view of the resting place of Shoghi Effendi. The tulips were blooming!

After paying our respects at the cemetery, we toured around central London a little. This included a trip to Oxford Road, where we looked in shops for baby things, and Soraya practically fainted at the cost of pushchairs. ("How does anyone afford to have children?") We also got to explore the famous department store Selfridge's, which we were disappointed to discover does not actually sell fridges.

Talia outside of Selfridge's

At the risk of making an obvious statement,London is different from Paris.

Yes, I've become that person who visits somewhere and then spends the whole time comparing it to wherever they live. ("Ugh, these baguettes aren't as good as in Paris.") This can be obnoxious if the place you're visiting is a little village or in a radically different culture, but in the case of London, it feels appropriate to compare it to Paris. (Both are global cities consistently ranked in the top 5 for participation in the worldwide economy.)

So, some observations that I made, in no particular order:

• London is cleaner. Not just the streets, which have less litter and, uh, organic detritus, but even just the trains and buses seem to be less grimey.
• The London underground (locally known as the tube, although I kept calling it the métro), especially the older lines, has small tunnels, claustrophobic trains, and feels much more like a series of old mineshafts. By comparison, most of the Paris underground feels like a set of train stations that just happen to be underground.
• The architecture in London is less varied than that of Paris. I'm not sure to what extent this is due to London neighbourhoods being levelled during the blitz in WWII...
• London also feels much much bigger than Paris, and the transport system is much more confusing, although these feelings might just be due to Paris being familiar to me and London unfamiliar.
• Also, people speak English in London, and French in Paris, but I overheard a surprising amount of French in London. Apparently somewhere between 70,000 and 300,000 French people live in London, giving rise to the claim that London is France's sixth largest city.

I'm curious to know if others share my perspectives (even if you've only visited one of these places). Let me know in the comments! Part of the fun of travelling is seeing how things are different or the same from places you are used to. I'm not sure what I am "used to" now (having lived in three different countries), but comparing things can still bring fresh insights.

Party in the USA

Our last post was a month ago. How time flies when you're travelling internationally, moving to a new town, and entertaining guests! Today I'll just catch you up on some of our activities in the past month.

Amazing warm spring weather in Oregon

You may recall from my last post that I would soon be leaving France for a three-week stay in the US to visit my family in Oregon. This was my first time being back in America since we left eight months ago, and my first time seeing my family in nearly a year. Prior to this trip, I had finally been feeling more settled into Paris life and my conversational French was definitely improving. I was getting used to living in Europe. So I wasn't exactly desperate to leave France and the dismal political and social news coming out of America every day didn't help matters either.

So how was it going back home, you ask?

It was marvellous.

It may be trite to say so, but absence really does make the heart grow fonder. After so long in Paris, here are some of the things I appreciated most about America (and specifically Oregon):

My nephew's 2nd birthday party with a farm-themed cake

• Strangers smiling at me and making eye contact. And occasionally even complimenting me!
• Not having to prepare my sentences and figure out verb conjugations before speaking.
• Knowing where to go in grocery stores and what I can find in them.
• An abundance of gluten-free and dairy-free options at stores and restaurants. Vegan cheese! Vegan ice cream!
• Finding inexpensive and comfortable maternity clothes.
• Smoke-free air!
• Seeing mountains and trees and nature everywhere I go.
• Being able to see more than three stars at night.
• Catching up with friends and family.
• Hugs from people I love (rather than a semi-awkward kiss on both cheeks in the Parisian style).
• Best of all: being a real part of my family again. Playing with my nieces and nephews. Getting parenting advice from my siblings. Watching Downton Abbey with my parents. Actually being there.

Homemade eclairs for the baby shower

Baby shower gifts!

On top of all that, I got to walk along the beach, attend my nephew's second birthday party, eat lots of gluten-free chocolate cake and eclairs, get a massage and a pedicure, and generally soak up all the fun and relaxation I possibly could in three short weeks. One of the sweetest things was having a baby shower put on by my mom and sisters-in-law and receiving blessings, wisdom, and gifts from dear friends. I brought home an extra giant suitcase filled with all sorts of treasures and necessities for our little one.


I'm filled with gratitude for the incredible time I had back home. It was refreshing and reinvigorating, and I came back to Paris with a full heart.

Cello duets and interpretive dancing with my nieces   

Meanwhile, in Paris, Rory was hard at work on getting us moved into a new apartment. In a stroke of exceptional timing, his mum and sister came to visit him during this time and were able to help haul our belongings to the new place. Thanks, Fiona and Zoë!

The apartment is just outside of Paris in a suburb called Montreuil (“mon-troy”), and is a small, albeit tastefully decorated one-bedroom furnished flat. It's more comfortable than our old place: ground floor—not fifth, quiet neighborhood, only two other tenants in the building, and it's 200 euros cheaper each month. Our landlady, who owns the building and lives upstairs, is so kind and helpful that she even bought us a memory foam mattress topper when she learned I was pregnant, just so I would dormir bien. We're still settling in and working on building our nest for when the baby arrives this summer.

The kitchen in our new apartment. Still small, but no neon walls!

Whew! I think we're caught up now on the Turnbull goings-on. Tomorrow we're catching an early train to London to spend the day with a lovely friend of ours from Columbus, so we'll have more posts coming your way soon.







In conclusion, here's another picture of my niece. It'll make you smile.

Pregnancy and the Baha'i Month of Fasting

As many of you know, Rory and I are Baha'is, and in the Baha'i Faith there is a prescribed period of fasting where we abstain from food and drink. Fasting is common in many religions; some Christians fast or give up other material things during Lent, Muslims fast for 30 days during Ramadan, Jews fast on Yom Kippur. There are many other examples of fasting for religious reasons, but often a common desired outcome of all these periods of fasting is nearness to God and the nourishment of one's spiritual self. By practicing self-control and sublimating our physical desires, we find ourselves in stronger contact with our own noble souls and with the world beyond our little bubble of daily life.

"Happy is your condition for you have executed the divine command, and have arisen to fast in these blessed days. For this physical fasting is a symbol of the spiritual fasting, that is, abstaining from all carnal desires, becoming characterized with the attributes of the spiritual ones, attracted to the heavenly fragrances and enkindled with the fire of the love of God." - ‘Abdu’l-Bahá

The Baha'i month of fasting is a period of 19 days—the Baha'i calendar is composed of 19 months with 19 days in each month—and this special period happens during the final month of the Baha'i year. It takes place around March 2-March 20 every year, and Baha'is celebrate the end of the fast and the beginning of the new year on March 20 or 21 with Naw Ruz, the new year's celebration.

A sunny early spring day at the Parc Montsouris. 

Baha'is between the ages of 15 and 70 are exhorted to fast from all food and drink between sunrise and sunset for these 19 days. We wake up early in the morning, have breakfast before the sun comes up, and eat dinner after the sun sets. There are a few exemptions from fasting, however. Those who are traveling long distances, who are ill, or who are engaged in heavy labor do not need to fast, as well as women who are pregnant, nursing, or menstruating.

I have been fasting for the last 14 years of my life. The Fast is something I always greatly look forward to as winter draws to a close and spring begins to peek through the gloom. This year, however, I get to trade the privilege of fasting for the privilege of growing a human inside my body. Although I usually enjoy the Fast and find it challenging and spiritually uplifting, I am loving the experience of pregnancy and the increasing connection and love I feel for the banana-sized baby curled up in my tummy.

Even though I'm eating (like a horse!) during the Fast this year, I still wanted to use this special time for my own spiritual growth. For me, fasting at its most basic level restores self-discipline and routine to my life. Rising early despite tiredness, staying focused despite hunger; these are some of the more mundane aspects of fasting, but ones that promote balance and productivity.

The first daffodils I saw in Paris--in January.

So in lieu of forgoing food, I have been getting up before sunrise with Rory every morning for breakfast, partly for my own edification and partly to support him in his fasting. After we pray together, I make time to meditate, read the Baha'i Writings, and write some reflections in my journal. These are activities that I try to do all year long, but the self-discipline I manage during the Fast is what makes it work every day. I don't look at my phone or computer until after I have completed this morning routine. And I removed Facebook and games from my phone so I wouldn't be tempted to waste time on them. Two other elements of my fast this year have been regularly practicing the cello (which is harder to do when you have no impending orchestra concerts and no students to teach), and exercising and getting out of the apartment every day. These sound like simple tasks, but to an introverted pregnant lady with no regular job living in a foreign country, it's harder than you might think to motivate yourself out the door and up and down those five flights of stairs.

Happily, taking these simple steps during the Fast has increased my productivity, gratitude, and joy, brought me out of my technology-induced fog, and made me feel more connected not only to God but also to my husband, family, and friends. It's like I had been treading water for many months, barely able to keep my head above the surface, and suddenly I realized I could just get out of the pool.

Today is my 29^th birthday, and normally, having a birthday during the Fast means having lots of positive energy to carry you through the day, but also often means having to turn down offers of birthday lunches or having to save a birthday cupcake for eight hours before I could eat it. The positives outweigh the negatives, so I never minded too much, but it was admittedly a very pleasant change this time around to have a birthday lunch for the first time in 14 years. One of the best birthday presents of all, though, is that tomorrow I fly to Oregon to visit my family and friends for the first time in ten months. I can't wait!

Despite the challenges of moving to a new country and navigating a foreign language, pregnancy, the health care system, French bureaucracy, and all the other things I have complained about, the Fast has helped me to realize just how blessed I really am. I have grown more this year than any other (and not just my belly!) and I'm so grateful for the opportunities I have been given.

My first birthday lunch in 14 years!
And the first gluten-free pizza I've found in Paris. http://biospherecafe.fr/en

Coming soon: Moving to a new apartment...on the ground floor!

Happy fasting to our dear Baha'i friends and happy spring to all!

On the road to Rouen

(Title of this post shamelessly stolen from the Supergrass album of the same name. And yeah, we took the train, so it's not even that accurate.)

Last weekend, we took a short trip to Rouen - we left Paris on Friday afternoon and came back on Sunday afternoon. Rouen is a small city northwest of Paris, about 75 minutes by train. It's the capital of Normandy and is principally famous as having several medieval cathedrals and also as being the place where Joan of Arc was tried and executed. For us, it was a chance to get out of the hustle and bustle of Paris and have a relaxing weekend. For Talia in particular, it was her first time exploring France outside of the Île-de-France region.

The journey begins.

I didn't know that much about Joan of Arc before going to Rouen, so here's a rough approximation of my knowledge. The background to the story is the Hundred Year's War between France and England, which despite the name, did not last for a hundred years (it was 116 years), and was not a war (it was a series of disconnected skirmishes and battles). During this period, the English crown was trying to assert authority over (parts of) France, while (parts of) the French royal family were fighting to oppose it. Joan of Arc was a peasant girl who had a number of religious visions showing a united France, and rose to prominence in leading successful attacks in several decisive battles. (To do this, she wore men's clothes, which was regarded with a mixture of shock and bemusement.) After a while, she was captured by the English (well, allies of the English in any case), and eventually put to death (by burning) for heresy. Given that Joan quickly became an icon of French culture, a symbol of fighting for freedom against an oppressive force*, the town that was responsible for putting her to death has been, at time, a little embarrassed of its status.

[* This is part of the myth-making that I don't really understand. It wasn't as if France was under the cruel yoke of a dictator and they were fighting for freedom and democracy. This was a war to determine which unelected hereditary leader was "rightfully" the leader of France. Not particularly noble in either case.]

Nevertheless, there are a number of Joan-related activities that you can do. Principally, you can visit the 13th-century fort where she was imprisoned.

The fort where Joan of Arc was held prior to her execution.

Rouen recently made most (all?) of their public museums free of charge. Consequently, we had the following exchange at the entrance to the fort:

Man: Entry is free. Well, except for the English. You're not English are you?
Talia: No, I'm American, and he is Scottish.
Man: Ah! American! Well, you liberated us, so you can go in. And Scottish? My grandmother was Scottish, so you're good too.

(Of course, he was ignoring the fact that the Scots fought on the side of the French in the Hundred Years War, including the fact that several Scottish soldiers fought alongside Joan of Arc during the siege of Orléans.)

Once inside, there was a good selection of historical information and Jean-related paraphernalia. One exhibit featured an amusing Franglish translation:

Her "eldbows"; she is "hearing the voices"; "made in biscuit".

The statuette in question. Looks delicious!

This post would be remiss if I neglected to include pictures of the grand churches and cathedrals. It felt like you couldn't go a few paces without bumping into another huge church or medieval tower.

The trip achieved its goal of being a relaxing (yet cultured) weekend away. There are many more regions of France to explore, so hopefully this will be the first of many such excursions!