Sunday, April 6, 2014

" just before leaving the french "

sunday, april 6

So everything having an end cycle like washing machines, the Reporter had to leave her beloved french who are so polite.  But, before she left she checked a few things again, just to make sure they would be there when she came back.

First, a major thing,  behind the  Faculté de Médecine,  there is a street named  Rue Jean Dubois. Now,  just because the french love to put you into a quandary,  the word  Faculté  leads you to think it means Faculty in english,  hé bien pas du tout, or as we say vulgarly in english, well not at all.

 Faculté de Médecine  means College of Medicine. So there.  And you would say, well why doesn't it mean Faculty, plain and simple ? That my dear friends is because we, Americans, are too plain and rude.

The word Faculté comes from the latin  facula  which means 'light' and so, the french decided to divide their  Universités,  which by the way means Universities, just like us, into  Facultés, because they,  have the light of knowledge, while we, live in obscurity, except of course for our professors, who, they,  are named Faculty.  Now I hope is this clear, and light in your own cultivated minds.

So the french public  Systeme des Universités,  which is of course the system of universities, plain and simple,  divided its medical teaching world in  Faculté de Médecine,  Faculté de Chirurgie Dentaire, [ that's the tooth one ]  Faculté de Chimie,  [ that's the chemist ] and  Faculté de Biologie, [ that's an easy one.]  If you think about it, since I,  also, omitted Physics,  that accounts for a lot of lights in the french study system, which is why the french are so knowledgeable.

 But, as the french say, let's go back to the  Faculté de Médecine, and right next to it,  the little street  Rue Jean Dubois.

 Well that is a street which is pedestrian, and whichever time of the day you come to it, you will see kids, as if there are some school hours exemption, and they jouent au foot, which means they play soccer.  Since, as I am sure you know,  football in france is what we call soccer, while the football as we know it here, is practiced in france as rugby.   That is because the french love speaking in english.

And that is one of the few paradoxes of the french.  They love to sprinkle some english words in their day to day language.  And this has the french  Académie de France in a tizzy.

For example, everyone will say,  "J’ai uploadé une photo sur mon Facebook»   It means of course, I uploaded a photo on my Facebook.  But note, that they used the verb 'upload" and conjugated it the french way.  Another one often heard among the young french, «J’peux pas te parler, je suis dans le rush. Je suis hyper speed  Which is ' I can't talk to you, I am in the rush. I am hyper speed.' Of course this has many grammatical errors, but the french love to customize. To them, it makes perfect sense, and that is because they are so much more knowledgeable.

So,  as you can see in the pic below, there are children playing soccer, and  there is a little girl which  makes huge bubbles and no one is watching, she is doing that for her own pure pleasure, that is a typical french pedestrian street.

 so the Reporter after having checked la  Rue Jean Dubois,

 courageously left la  Rue de l'Ecole de Médecine,  [ that 's the Street of the School of Medicine",  Ecole being another term for the facula,  the light thing ] as she turned left on Rue de l'Odéon,  and right on  Rue des Quatres Vents,  which only  means Street of the Four Winds.

Now the Street of the Four Winds has that particularity that once you are out of the perimeter, or area, of the academics lights, you fall right back into the perimeter of  little fashion stores.

And there, among a plentiful choice, the Reporter fell on that quintessential men's store up to attract the masculine interest.  The owner had suspended a little mobile of tiny paper boats, because as you know, the french, even though they are socialists,  and it is so exciting to see their country on an arduous socialist plan, one of their main masculine dreams is to get on a sailing boat,  and  partir et laisser tout, which means sail away and abandon everything.

So here is a pic of how  partir et laisser tout.

 The Reporter does realize that this is a picture with many  reflected things, but that is for the underlying purpose to have you reflect on the idea of  partir et laisser tout.

 And then, sadly the Reporter checked a last time on her florist,

which was closed,
and then it was time to boucler sa petite valise,  or buckle up her little trunk,

and then go.

The Reporter, as a matter of fact, was pretty elated as she was going to travel aboard the big fat new Airbus, the one which has multiple staircases and levels.

And that, dear Reader, is a pleasure in itself because, that new plane has a camera on the top of its tail and, extraordinary fact,  you can see what the plane sees from its tail.

So, you feel in fact, so connected  privately, emotionally, spiritually to that big bird because you see what he sees !!!!  All apologies, I had to put that in italic, even thought that was not in french.

So I am posting below a photo of the little screen that I watched all the flight through, forget films when you can watch clouds, and things like chem-trails, and airport landings, and runways.

For the Reader of this blog, who is so cultivated, I did check  the gender of an airplane  to see whether it was masculine or feminine,  [ I decided above for a manly 'he' ] and the response on Google English Language and Use was :
" It depends. You need to look under the rear luggage bay to know for sure."  As I didn't have time to do that, I opted for the masculine.

And here is the view, dear Reader,  enjoy :

So, sadly, once again we have to part, but Reader, the intoxication of composing this blog has been so high recently that the Reporter
has decided, succumbing to many entreaties,  to continue some reporting on her now near native land,  America !!

So watch out for another post on the interesting things going on here.

With all Love,

the Frog