Reconnaissance, Part 2
You can do a lot of planning from a distance. After logging hundreds of hours on the Internet reading about French school options, how to open a French bank account, and how to find an apartment, Houman and I planned a “reconnaissance trip” to Paris for the fall. We wanted to meet with the two schools the girls had applied to, get a real French bank account, choose an agent to help us find an apartment, and explore potential neighborhoods for us to live in. Houman was also going to spend a couple of days at the Hôpital Necker getting to know his future colleagues and figure out what paperwork would be required in order for him to spend his year there. That, and enjoy ten days in Paris without our kids. What a treat!
We rented an apartment in the Marais and chose to try out “One Fine Stay” on a recommendation of a friend. Our friend’s experience was better than ours. After living for a few days without hot water, having to deal with the French repairman ourselves because he was coming “outside of office hours”, finding that every cabinet and drawer in the entire apartment was sealed with red tape (indicating it was private), balancing our toiletries on bedside tables and using clothing racks in the hallways (because the closets were private too), we decided that One Fine Stay was perhaps misnamed.
Apartment troubles aside, we had a wonderful and productive trip.
Lots of legwork already completed from Calgary, we went to our bank appointment on our first morning. It took 2 hours to make our accounts official and sign documents. H and I have different last names and that caused a lot of confusion. H had to sign a special document giving me “permission” to access the “joint” account. Because he was born in Iran we were told Houman would need to come back to bank once per year to “visit” the bank. We are not yet sure what happens in these visits.
Once we had an official bank account we thought it would be helpful to deposit some cash and I had a stack of euros in my purse. The very kind bank employees were taken aback, “We can’t deposit cash into an account!”. What? Isn’t this a bank? Turns out they are quite worried about money laundering and the only way to get funds into our account was to wire them from Canada. We would do this on our return and after ten more long email exchanges between Houman and the banker (all in French) and more documentation about our personal finances they finally accepted the money.
Next up was housing. We met with 4 relocation agents and connected with Michelle from A Good Start In France who we both immediately liked. We discussed timing options with her and she suggested we come in June to find an apartment for July. The market in Paris is very “dynamic” and there is zero point in looking for anything more than a month out from when you want to take possession. Houman would not be able to take any time off work for another trip to France. I would have to go on my own and choose on behalf of the whole family. Gulp.
We were quite excited and anxious to meet with the potential schools. We wanted to understand what we were getting into (exactly how many hours of homework should we expect?) while also making a positive impression. In advance of our trip we had a number one and a number two choice for the schools. Our sense was that one school was more welcoming and the other had higher academic standards. Our goal for the year was to have the girls love their experience and learn French. We really didn’t care if they learned anything else. They could catch up when we got home.
To our surprise, after our interviews, we fell in love with our number two choice. Their adaption program, for not-yet-French students, seemed to be an integral part of the school and they were passionate about the different backgrounds their international families would bring to their community. It was very competitive to get a spot and we wanted 2 of them. The admissions board would meet at the end of January. In order to be considered at the first opportunity we would need first term report cards submitted before the board meeting. I checked our school calendar. Report cards were not scheduled to come out until February. Thanks to our girls' wonderful teachers, who accelerated things, we were able to get report cards in on time to maximize our chances.
Our time in Paris wasn’t all work and no play. We had made reservations from home for most of our dinners based on the recommendations of friends and Sarah Bancroft’s blog. Mama Primi, Champeaux and Monsieur Bleu were highlights. Lunches were largely baguette sandwiches sitting on benches on the street, leaning against a wall or, the best, sitting in the Tuileries Garden. Our sole museum visit was to the Musée des Arts Décoratifs for the Christian Dior exhibit. Not knowing much about haute couture we were blown away by the beauty of the dresses and the workmanshop that goes into every piece. We left with an appreciation for a new art form we hadn’t considered before.
Some of our favourite times were walking around potential neighborhoods with a map in hand, making notes about which parts we liked and imaging our lives there. We searched out all the parks around the areas we were considering so we could prove to our girls there would be places to run. We learned that we liked the busier family neighborhoods like the 15th and the 17th more than the fancier areas like the 7th and the 8th. Another fav was having a drink on the rooftop patio of the Gallerie Lafayette looking out over the Paris rooftops.
Part of imaging our life in Paris was finding our way around without using taxis or Uber. We walked, or took the metro or the bus everywhere we went. Our first morning we got our Navigo cards and it was seamless thanks to having brought photos from home. We used a fabulous app called Citymapper to plan our trips. It would give you different transportation options and we often chose the bus. We’d been advised to take buses over the metro when we could because you get a better feel for the city travelling above ground. At the end of a long day of reconnaissance, we looked forward to a scenic bus ride home.
We left Paris with a lot more knowledge under our belts: the ambiance in different neighbourhoods, how to get around, where we hoped to live and where we hoped our girls would go to school. We had an agent. We had a plan.
We went home to cross our fingers and wait.
A très bientôt, Paris.
