l'estate violenta (violent summer)

After Valerio Zurlini’s l’estate violenta (1961), I walked out of cinema Quartier Latin, slowly making my way home to the other side of the river, without forgetting to stop at Amorino’s for a gelato (bacio, café and yogurt), yum. I couldn’t stop thinking about the love story in the movie and how the war (1945) separated them eventually, so bitter sweet.

As soon as I walked into my apartment, I see this on my table – a plastic bag from duty free shopping in the airport of Beirut. A friend of mine brought me a gift a few weeks ago from Lebanon, since then the airport is bombed and the whole country is being bombed. This friend could not help but sitting in front of the TV every evening watching news, only bad ones. I manage to cut myself from news and continue live my Parisian life - cinema, Gelati, firemen’s parties, picnics on Ponts des arts, Champagne on my roof top, BBQs in the countryside and motorcycle rides on the river banks … Yet this little plastic bag sitting on my living room table reminds me that it is summer and a violent one indeed!

Few weeks ago, I still thought Beirut would be the destination for my summer vacation this year together with Syrie and Jordan. I am not really afraid of going today, but I just don’t know how to explain to my aging parents about my vacation plans in a war zone.

I think about my friends in Tel Aviv, I wanted to call or write them an email to see how they are and what they think, but I did not. I did not even call my Lebanese friend these past few days, because I don’t know what to say.

When there is no easy solution to long lasting problems like this, and comprehension is totally beyond my capacity, I want to say: Hey, Israeliens, Palestinians, all Jews and Arabs, just come live with the Chinese and we eat roasted ducks together, there is oil in those things. In this country, we have lots of lands, uncultivated lands, choose which ever piece you would like. Take Tibet, it is a very peaceful place; the Himalaya will be high enough to separate your problems. Take Taiwan, the most romantic island with lots of bananas; it is far enough from your home and close enough to the Americans. Take every stone you want and need from the great wall which protected the Chinese for thousands of years and that should help you build your own great wall and protect your family.

L’estate violenta, and I, hate!!!

fireworks, firemen, i am on fire

July 14th is Bastille day and national day of France, this year like any other year, they shoot up fireworks next to the Eiffel Tower, the only difference is that I really got to see it up close and personal this time. On the balcony of a friend who moved into a new apartment with a grand view of the Eiffel Tower, we opened numerous bottles of champagne and watched the whole set of fireworks with Mozart in the background. It was so close that ashes and residuals from fireworks, got into our hair, eyes, mouths, clothes and champagne glasses. Smoke from the fireworks blocked our view of Eiffel Tower, the entire thing just disappeared in front of us, until it was lit and glittering in the dark again.

My face was almost black by the end, but maybe that set the tone of the second half of the evening – firemen’s party. It is a French tradition that on Bastille day, in every neighbourhood, all cities in the country, firemen’s hold parties in their lodgement. There I am, surrounded by some very good looking and fit men in uniform, continue to drink champagne and celebrate the official entry to summer. I saw a girl in the arms of a good looking fireman, I said to myself, “did they knew each other before or I got to the party too late?”

In the firemen’s station, surrounded by dozens of fire trucks and, all sorts of fire fighting equipments and an army of fire fighters, my lighter just decided to shut itself off completely, I think it is due to his own psychological fear. The entire evening I had all excuses to have handsome firemen lighting cigarettes for me, I kept wandering weather they were there to put off fires or to light fires.

4h00 in the morning, I decided to call it a night, in order to avoid asking homeless people for light, I had to light a new cigarette before the old one went out. Here is my new method of measuring distance between two places – the firemen’s station is exactly 8 “chain smoking” cigarettes away from my apartment: so far away yet so close!!!

Do I feel the sense of security that someone near will always come by to put out the fire? Or, am I more afraid to be set on fire and burn ?

end of the world cup

The world cup finally ended. Before the final, I told myself that I would be equally happy either the French or the Italians won, yet I can not really describe my emotion to be joy. Was it because I, after all, favour the French more than the Italians? Was it because now at the beginning of the summer, me like the rest of 60 million French could not find a good reason to drink champagne and party all night long? Well, that, I believe the French will find a solution very quickly.

My real disappointment is that the final game was not so spectacular and what football has become today. I quote lines from a fellow blogger:

“People who don’t understand anything about football think the World Cup final is about 1 billion people watching 22 Frenchmen and Italians kicking a ball around. They’re wrong. It’s really about 1 billion people watching 22 Frenchmen and Italians, falling all over, getting penalties for non-existent fouls, grabbing their calves and performing spectacular dives which drama students worldwide could do well to study.”

· So is it more of a game of tactics of simulation of fouls and corners? Or is it a game of emotional harassment and psychological control?

· These past few days, all explanations people are trying to give to justify Zidane’s behaviour were just pathetic.

· The Italians deserve the champion, not for their performance in the final game, but the outstanding game they played against the Germans, with two goals within the final 5 minutes of over time.

· The Italians deserve the champion because they are good players and they just got rid of Berlusconi for all Europeans.

· So what about the French who played well against the Spanish and Brazilians?

· A pity that Argentina lost to the Germans, but in regard to that game, my friend who came to the bar with me that day is to be blamed. As a supporter for Argentina, he somehow changed positions in the middle of the game, because of a pretty blonde German girl sat next to him. Ever since he started flirting with the blonde German girl, Argentina started losing. This very person, who used to be my partner for tango lesson every Thursday night is officially fired!

· One player I really like is Cissé, but his injury was directly caused by a friendly match with the Chinese. And the Chinese, my country men will not make it to qualification even in another 20 years.

So here are all my regrets and shall we wait for the next world cup to resolve all of today’s regrets?

Vik, the happy purple bee

camp the tent

After some mass text messages to friends the day before taking off to Iceland asking to borrow a tent, I realised that none of my friends is outdoor type, because the answer is uniform. “No, no tent!!!” and “What do you need that for?”

Camping is not something I fantasize only, I have done so in my life and several times. Although that does not correspond to the usual urban cosmopolitan Ana image, camping is truly something I enjoy.

Despite the only encouraging response of one person who offered to make me a tent with his body, I decided that it would have been too heavy to carry, I packed my sleeping bag first and with much determination, I walked into Go Sport to look for a tent.

After more than one hour of consultation, I picked up this light weight, dark blue tent for two people, and an important detail, it was water proof for 3 days. We were going for the midnight sun, yet rain is not uncommon this time of the year. Did you notice the “light weight” part? For me camping is not to set up the tent next to the car, but carrying all the stuff in a back pack, hiking for at least 2-3 kilometres, climbing over a few hills, crossing a few creeks and finding the perfect spot in a valley… so “light weight” is after all important.

Yet the idea of sleeping in the nature, breathing the same air as wild animals and chasing after hurdles of sheep were not exactly shared by my travel partner. Day 3, the sun was warm and bright all day long, I started my marketing champagne over “camping out under the sun”(there is not evening anyways). “It will just be like taking a nap in the afternoon” … “we don’t even need camp fire, it is bright out look!”

Out of sympathy or maybe even “love”, she eventually said “Yes”, and I was ready to show her the best part of life she had missed all these years. We had this nice spot where we could see the glacier on one side and the ocean on the other side, 22H00, the sun is still high up. We had our fancy picnic of smoked salmon, smoked lamb, cucumbers, tomatoes, wheat bread and a bottle of chilled rosé. (On the land of Ice, everything is chilled at all times, the temperature is usually between 0 – 8 degrees centigrade.)

At 23H00, I curled up in my new tent, well covered by a sheet, sleeping bag and a thick warm hat. I sent a bunch of text messages to my city friends just to show off, and then I put on one of those eye masks from Air France just to trick my biological self, so that my body would recognise that it was evening, and put me to sleep.

I was fast asleep smelling the fresh grass underneath me and thinking maybe I could get up at 3 o’clock in the morning and taking some pictures under some amazing sunlight… somehow, I did not fail to wake up at 3 o’clock in the morning, but I only heard strong wind blowing outside and rain drops hitting the side of the tent.

Ananas: I don’t think this tent is water proof, not even for three hours,
certainly not three days!
Ana: Hmmm…. We are still dry right?
Ananas: I am not, my hair, face, all, all is wet.
Ana: Are you cold? I think I am okay, should we wait till the rain stops?
Ananas: ok, I am cold…
Ana: Drink some wine! where is the wine bottle?
Ananas: I am cold.
Ana: I need to go to the bathroom, I think…but maybe I can wait…so cold!
You are right it is cold.

As I unzip the sleeping bag, I realized both of my feet and the bottom half of the sleeping bag was basically soaked in water…

There is the first water proof test of my new tent, and I guess this is what I call “when nature shows its power”! At least I was able to show THAT to my friend – Things not to miss in life, when nature shows its power…