Feng And Me In Front Of The French Embassy, Panamá, January 2002

We didn’t do anything. Just tried to do some laundry. And yet, we ended up at the police station… got into a big mess.

In January 2002, we had just arrived in Panamá, after crossing Mexico, Belize, Guatemala, El Salvador, Honduras, Nicaragua and Costa Rica. We has spent Christmas in Boca Del Toro and a few days later, we had arrived in Panamá City, the capital.

We had taken a night bus, arriving at dawn. We had waited for a while at the bus station before going to an hostel. Unfortunately, it was closed and we eventually had to find another place to stay, nearby Casco Viejo.

We had unpacked, taken a shower — a ritual we both mastered by then. We were both tired. A few months of chicken buses, cold showers and various insect bites does that to you. I was really sick of doing the laundry in the sink at night and our clothes hadn’t been properly washed since Nicaragua. We put all our dirty clothes in a big garbage bag and decided to go look for a lavandería.

We were not familiar with the city at all. We crossed a busy market, busy streets and busy area. At one point, a woman stopped us and told us to go no further. But we kept on going. What could happen in broad daylight, in such a busy place?

Feng had just told me the place looked a bit seedy when we heard someone running behind us. It happened in a matter of second. One guy (I think they were two or three) grabbed my back, the other one grabbed my neckless and the third one was fighting with Feng who was carrying our clothes. I was so mad I fought back but they left as quickly as they have arrived. I collapsed on the ground and burst into angry tears.

We entered a nearby store. Everybody had seen the robbery and people we nice to us. I begged someone to get my bag back. At the time, I wasn’t sure what was in it (we had left the hostel quickly) and I was afraid I had left my passport in it. Physically, we were both fine except for a few scratches. Feng fought as much as he could but we had been taken by surprise — not much to do.

Someone had called the police and we were taken to the nearby comisaría. We filed a report and the police brought us some kids to try to identity our robbers. I barely looked at them. I can never identify the bad guy in the movies and I didn’t trust the justice system that much in Panamá. What good was it going to do anyway? I was pissed off but meanwhile it was our own stupidity. Time for action, not for revenge. We thanked the police and they released the kids.

Back at the hotel, I checked my backpack and realized I still had my passport. Feng didn’t lose anything (his had left his wallet at the hotel and only had small change). I had lost a neckless, my bag, my agenda and my wallet. There weren’t much money in it, so it was okay. Traveler cheques and US dollars were at the hotel. I didn’t care much for my French IDs but there was my credit/ debit card in my wallet.

Although I doubted the kids would attempt to use it (they didn’t have the code), I needed a replacement because it was my only way to withdraw money. Feng had lost his wallet in LA a few months earlier and he assured me he was a straightforward process. I had no idea. I was 18. That was my first bank card.

We then went to the French Embassy, which was located in Casco Viejo, the seedy district. Bars on windows, bulletproof doors, we got an idea by then. The people are the embassy were surprisingly helpful and a doctor that happened to be here looked at our scratches and bruises. Nothing bad, thanks God. I called Mastercard and my card was cancel. I ordered a replacement one and left the French Embassy address as I figured it was the safest and easiest way to pick it up.

We went back to the hotel. Our room was tiny with just a bed and a shower. We lay here and hugged. Panama was said to be the safest country in Central America… yeah, right. El Salvador, Nicaragua etc. are not always politically safe but people were nice in general. Petty thief could happened but violent crime didn’t seem to be in the air. I sensed a different atmosphere in Panamá. There were armed guards everywhere, bars on windows and bulletproof windows and doors. A different level of crime, probably. Drugs, money and trafficking. That was new to me.

Mastercard had told me it would take a few days to received a new card. Meanwhile, we hanged out a bit on Via España, the only safe place around here. We visited the Panamá Canal, got our yellow fever vaccination (required to enter Brazil) and Feng applied for a Brazilian visa. We ate tuna sandwiches, Pringles, Keeblers cookies, and watched U.S TV in the hotel room.

We started making a daily trip to the embassy to check if my new Mastecard was there. Days were going by and nothing, nada. I kept on calling Mastercard in France and they were positive they had sent the card. Eventually, one day, the Consul himself took pity on us and phoned my bank. Turned out these idiots had sent my new bank card by regular mail, rather than by FedEx or DHL, because they had been told “mail was reliable in Panamá“. The Consul literally yelled at them and I started to cry. Again, out of frustration.

It became clear that I would never get my Mastercard, which was my only debit and credit card. But I needed my money. That day, I went out at 3am to call my bank in France right when they open. I was tired, sick and frankly a bit scared to hang out nearby the payphone, a few streets away from the hotel. But Feng needed his sleep and frankly, because I was speaking French, he wouldn’t have been much help anyway. A solution was found: the bank would send me the remaining of my account balance by Western Union and the transfer would take place immediately. I would still be without a credit card but at least, I could change my money for Traveler Cheques (thanks God the currency of Panamá is $US).

It took another few days to get the money from Western Union. More phone calls to my bank (I would cancel my account upon coming back to France a few months later). Meanwhile, we bought our plane ticket to Quito Ecuador. We would not go through Colombia, as we had thought.

Eventually, I got the money from Western Union, about $2,000 in cash. We carried the crisp biils in my bra and Feng’s socks to the nearest bank and bought Travelers Cheques. A few days later, we flew to South America. Bye bye Panamá.

This December, I will make sure we don’t need to go to the lavandería. I swear.

Passport, Vaccination Certificate And On The Road Again

As much as I love Canada, I just can’t stand the idea of spending another winter here. As much as I like my job, I just can’t teach another minute. As much as I love my normal life, I need some freedom.

We are going traveling.

On December 9th, we will fly from Ottawa to Toronto. And then, from Toronto to Newark. We will arrive in Panamá City, Panamá, late at night.

Panamá. Of all places. I didn’t think I would ever go back there.

We don’t have any plans. We are going to pack for a few months. From Panamá City, we plan to go North, to Costa Rica and Nicaragua. We will then find a way to get to South America, and to avoid Colombia. We should be back in Spring 2009.

I’m keeping on blogging, of course — what else do you expect? You will get the full story on Panamá tomorrow… meanwhile, we have to go to some embassies to beg for visas. That’s the problem with last minute decisions…

Próxima Estación: Esperanza…?

The Shop Is Open!

The shop is open!

A while ago, inspired by my English buddy Graham, I decided to build a shop for this website, to sell some photography. After a lot of tweaking and editing, the shop is finally ready! Check out the navigation bar, below the header, or just click on The Shop.

I absolutely love taking pictures (well, you may have noticed that…) and since I only have one eye, I like to say I was born for this (it is also my excuse for poor driving and terrible parallel parking). I have been looking to sell some of my photography for while now, but it wasn’t an easy road.

I wanted it to be affordable and also of high-quality. I looked into selling stock photography, but the idea of my pictures illustrating corporate websites didn’t appeal to me. I much rather preferred selling pictures to people who would actually look at them and enjoy them. I have been experimenting with RedBubble for two months now, and I have been really happy for far.

I selected my best pictures and you can choose from cards (under $3.00!), matted print, laminated print and mounted print. You can pay with Paypal, Visa, Mastercard and Amex. If you click on the “view and buy” button below a picture, you will be taken to RedBubble where the checkout will take place.

As a special offer, I will link to all the buyers. This blog has been doing pretty well so far, so it can only benefits you as well.

So if you are sick and tired of your white walls, if you are looking for an artitist card to send to a friend, don’t hesitate: shop here!

1: Materials concerning or characteristic of America, its civilization, or its culture ; broadly : things typical of America
2: American culture

In this series, I’d like to explore various aspect of life in North America. Each topic will be illustrated by a black and white picture.

A Burst Bubble

Owning a house. The true American dream.

North America is a land of settlers, a place where everything is possible, even buying one’s little piece of heaven. Land and a house on it. Far from expensive Europe or overcrowded Asia. A lot of households make it. Home sweet home.

Some weren’t that lucky this year. Subprime crisis, economic crisis, and the bubble burst. For a while.

Houses already built are waiting for buyers. Rows and rows of them, neatly lined up.

Picture: Ottawa, Neapan area, October 2008.

Nantes, my home town: the castle and the tramway

What are the top 5 French things I can not recreate in Canada?

I recently started reading Sasha, the author of Yankee In A New World. She is a really funny woman who lives in Europe… well, more precisely, in Hungary. Yep, seriously. I mean, how many Americans people are brave enough to go live in a country where “how are you” is “Hogy vagy?” (and yes, I did look it up online, cause I don’t speak Hungarian).

Like any other expat/ immigrants, Sasha occasionally misses home. Her “5 American things you can not recreate in Europe” made me laugh… and I figured I could easily list 5 French things I can not recreate in Canada.

Demonstrations and protests:

Let’s start with the obvious: France is a nation of proud demonstrators. According to the family story, I participated in my first demonstration at the tender age of three months. Apparently, I slept through the whole thing, which was no doubt very insensitive of me: we were demonstrating against the massive layoff in the local shipyard, a modern Zola tragedy. Not that my parents were working there, mind you. We were just showing some support.

French love showing support. Like when the railway workers go on strike, the mail workers are quite quick to follow. It’s also okay to go on strike “on behalf” of the other categories of workers: in Spring 2003, there were huge transport strikes, when the transport was not concerned by the Government’s project on retirement age. The two big demonstration seasons are Spring and Fall — it might have something do to with the nice weather. Of course, summer would be best but then, people are on holidays.

Anybody can go on strike and demonstrate in France. The “big three” leaders of waves of strikes are usually the railway workers, the students/ teachers and the farmers. That said, I have seen fishermen blocking harbors, electricity workers cutting power to government officials’ homes, cities where garbages were pilling up because garbage collectors wouldn’t work out an agreement with their unions, pig running wild in front of the Elysée thanks to angry farmers… even lawyers went on strike last year. Lawyers. Of all people…!

I have seen demonstrations in Canada. Well, someone had to point them to me, of course, because I just wasn’t sure what the ten people walking quietly in circle with placards were doing. Now I know: when more than ten Canadians gather in front of the Parliament, it’s because they are complaining about something. They do it very nicely, of course, they are Canadians. Like, I have never seen any of them chased by angry policemen throwing tear gas. A different culture, I’m telling you.

An efficient railway network:

Now, I’m aware of the contradiction with the above paragraph but trust me: when the railway workers are not in strike (aim between November and February), the train is a blessing. The French high-speed train (Train à Grande Vitesse, TGV) is extremely efficient and comfortable. For example, there are 400 km between my hometown and Paris, and it only takes 2 hours to get there. There are also about 400 km between Ottawa and Toronto, but the overpriced train takes 4:30. Viarail proudly advertises 25 trains per week between the two cities. In France, I have one train per hour.

In North America, after World War II, improvements in automobiles and aircraft, and government subsidization of highways and airports made those means more practical for the people. Emphasis was given to build a huge national interstate highway system. In Europe, emphasis was given to rebuilding the railways after the war and urban mass transport systems was favored.

As a result, it is often not practical (nor cheap) to travel by train in North America. It is comfortable and convenient in Europe but not here. Oh well. It’s not like oil is expensive, is it?

Cheap magazines:

One of my greatest pleasure in France was to run a really hot bath and to soak myself in bubbles in my tub, with a magazine. In Canada, I borrow them from the library and I stopped reading in my bath.

French have one of the largest choices in the world for magazines and are big readers. We can find magazines almost anywhere: train stations, local “bureaux de tabac” (smoke shops), booths in the subway… Most magazines are actually sold by copy and not by subscription.

There are magazines on every subjects but most favor political subjects or the latest trend. I find French magazines generally more open to the world than North American magazines. A silly example: women magazines. While in Canada, they would invariably feature articles about the twenty best sex positions (most of them only doable if you can do couple yoga at a very very high level — not that I tried…), a way to lose a lot of weight fast and how to become a successful and rich person, French magazines are lighthearted and do not take themselves as seriously.

Magazines are cheaper in France too. In Canada, they are usually around $5 (plus taxes), but in France, most magazines were around $3. It adds up…

Blue cheese:

That’s what I called cheese. Smelly, half rotten (Americans discreetly call it “blue cheese”, but between us, the blue part is mold). Butter some bread, add the cheese and enjoy the sharp and salty taste. How hard is that?

It’s not that I can’t find blue cheese. I can. Thanks God for Lebanese immigrants who usually sell imported cheese. But the price! I’m not paying $6 for a tiny piece of cheese, tightly wrapped in cellophane. I feel like I’m buying drug. I am not an addicted. Repeat after me. I am not an addict!

Now, I’m not eating processed cheese either. You know how French translate “processed cheese”? “Fromage industriel”. Enough said.

Liquid Soap:

I stopped using soap bars somewhere in the nineties. Well, my mum stopped buying them anyway, and we switched to liquid soap, which I find doesn’t leave my skin as dry.Oh, and every time I look at soap bars, it reminds me of the Fight Club movie where Brad designer soap out of human fat stolen from liposuction clinics.

But for some reasons, liquid soap is hard to find here in Canada, and it’s expensive. There isn’t that much choice either. Most liquid soaps are either too thick or too watery, and the scent is… meh. I miss my French liquid soap almost as much as I miss French deo (on a whole different subject).

I’m curious: what do you miss from home? What can’t you recreate in your new home?

I’d like to ask the question to a few of my favorite expats around the world:

• Aiglee, from Venezuela and now living in Canada
• Brenda, from Canada and now living in Malaysia (and soon to go back to Canada!)
• Lis, from the UK and living in France
• Breigh, from Canada and living in the Netherlands
• Diane, from the USA and now living in Norway
• Barbara, from the USA and now living in France
• Guillermo, from Argentina and now living in Canada
• The Writer, from Indonesia and living in Denmark
• Bluefish, who came from Taiwan to Canada (and going to Denmark soon?)
  

The Gift From France

Do you believe in random acts of kindness?

Last October, Barbara from Home in France introduced me to the “Pay It Forward” game.

According to the rules, “the exchange focuses on doing an act of kindness without expecting anything in return other than that the recipient will, in their turn, pass the kindness along and pay it forward in their own way.” I was one of the commenter who agreed to receive a small gift (you bet I was!) and to pass it on to other bloggers.

True to her word, Barbara sent me a small gift that I received this week end: two nice bookmarks. She must have guessed I love reading!

And Barbara picked the perfect gift! One of the bookmark has a quote of Bob Dylan (whom I love!): “How many roads must a man walk down before you call him a man?” — perfect for travelers like us! The other one has pictures of the famous Petit beurre LU. I was born and raised in Nantes, France, and the symbol if the city is constant rain the Petit beurre LU, because that’s where was based the The Lefèvre-Utile biscuit factory (see a picture of the factory tower I took when I was in France in March).

So merci beaucoup Barbara!

Now, I’d like to send you guys something. According to the rules, “I am going to agree to send something fun, inspiring or uplifting” to three random commenters. I’ll use a random number generator to pick the lucky ones. In turn, those three will post this information and pick 3 people they want to send something to and so on.

This is the third time I receive something from fellow bloggers: I got a troll from Norway, from RennyBA, and more recently, Shionge sent me a surprise package from Singapore. We are all used to email and virtual networking, but I’m telling you, receiving a surprise by regular mail is a great thing to experience.

So… comment, be nice, and I’ll be your Santa Claus!

The random pick

I used a random number generator to pick three commenters to participate:

• Number 1: Scarlet
• Number 12: Brenda
• Number 8: Breigh

Send me your address, girls, and wait for Santa Claus!

To conclude this series, I’d like to share with you some online resources about Canada. Canada at your fingertips, without the cold and the windchill!

The Media: TV, newspapers and magazines

• Canadian Broadcasting Corporation (CBC)
• You can also browse the list of Canadian channels (with info on each channel)
• The Globe and Mail
• National Post
• Le Devoir (in French)
• Toronto Star
• Each city also has several local newspapers, such as the Ottawa Citizen, Le Journal de Montréal, Calgary Herald etc. You can find all the local newspapers in this list.
• L’actualité (in French)
• Adbusters
• Maclean’s
• Chatelaine

Immigrate to Canada

• The Ministry of Citizenship & Immigration is the only official immigration resource. You may download your visa applications here.
• Immigration Québec: if you wish to visit, study or settle in Québec, you may use the provincial government’s website.
• Loonlounge offers community support to future immigrants. I’m an “expert” on this forum, designed to answer any question you may have regarding visiting, studying or settling in Canada.
• The Expat Forum is also a great resource to share tips about Canada.

The Canadian Blogosphere

• A New Life In Canada, by Aiglee: a couple from Venezuela settles in Toronto. Aiglee blogs in English and in Spanish about her new life up North.
• Johnada (+ wife and newborn Esme) is from the USA and now lives in Toronto. Watch for his Moslon rating system!
• Although not an immigrant (well, she is from Vancouver!) , Gail is a talented photographer who shares snapshots of Toronto, where she lives, and the world in general.
• On the other side of the country, Expat Traveler, originally from Switzerland, blogs about her life in Vancouver.
• The Prairie Road is the story of an American family who moved in a small town, in Saskatchewan.
• Los Zieglers In Canada is the story of a family of 6 (well, 5 + the dog) from Argentina who moved to Ottawa. The blog, written by Guillermo, is in Spanish, but full of tips and fun stories. Guillermo speaks English fluently so don’t be scared to comment in this language (like myself, when I’m lazy!).

Misc. Resources

• Tax Calculator: for all provinces
• Art and Culture in Canada: literature, magazines, museum etc.
• The symbols of Canada: the flag and the national anthem, along with explanations and a bit of history.
• TSN: sports from a Canadian perspective (yes, it features hockey and curling!)

I hope you enjoyed this “How to… Canada” series. If you have more questions about my new country, please, don’t hesitate to contact me!

Sunset Over The Houses

Sunsets and clouds… the magic of Canadian skies! A few pictures I took over the last few weeks…

Big Angry Cloud

Light And Heavy

Red And Grey

Sunset Gradient

Mixed Clouds

Watercolor Clouds

Light Bubble Clouds

In The Shadow

I have a personal stalker.

I hate the phone. But a few months ago, probably influenced by my French trip, I bought my very first cell phone. I shopped around beforehand and discovered the cell phone market is quite a scam here. Most providers (that is Bell, Rogers and Telus) lock you into a three-years contract (three years!) and there are a lot of hidden fees (system access fee, network access fee, activation fee, 911 access etc.). I ended up buying a month to month package from Virgin Mobile.

And I went happily with my new shiny phone. That is its real name, the “shiny phone“. Seriously, only Richard Branson would think of such a name.

Early October, my cell phone buzzed during one of my class. I checked the missed call number at the break: 905-297-4280. Didn’t know the number and besides, the call was from Toronto. No message. I quickly forgot about it.

Or at least, I tried. That day, I received over ten calls from that same number, and still no voice message. I didn’t pick up the calls because I would be charged for that (another perk of our great cell phone plans - we are charged for airtime even for incoming calls, checking voicemail etc.).

After a few days of constant calling, I phoned Virgin customer service. Not something I like to do. Virgin prides itself on being a young & hip company, and when you call them you can expect:

• Annoying language: “Please wait while we hook you up with one of our customer care specialist but just so you know… we may record this call just to make sure we are treating you real nice!!!!!“
• MTV-like music: “if you want to chill out, press 1, if you want to get pumped, press 2“. I basically have the choice between a headache and a headache.
  
• Unsolicited advertising: yes, I know I can sign up for online offers, I know that I can download music, I know that etc.
  

I explained my situation to a very cool dude: could he block that number? He basically told me to fuck off. Well, he said I should “get rid my friends on my own”. And hung up. So much for customer service.

I was still receiving up to 30 calls a day from 905-297-4280, so I called customer service again. A much nicer woman told me she had blocked the number. That would have been great… only if I hadn’t received another call a few minutes after hanging up with her.

Meanwhile, I did the sensible thing to do: I googled the number. Apparently a lot of people were reporting calls from that number. A lot of us had no clue who was calling. Some had taken the call and reported telemarketing from the CIBC ( a bank), a McCain supporter call (from Ontario?!), or just a man asking weird and personal questions. In my opinion, this wasn’t telemarketing: nobody is crazy enough to harass people for days, especially day and night. I smelled a scam. But which one?

For the two following weeks, my personal stalker didn’t stop. He would call ten times in a row and then nothing till a few hours later. I started getting calls early in the morning, at night, in the middle of the week end. I got very angry. I called Virgin again.

I spoke to another woman. She said she would check my incoming calls — so much for privacy… The task was easy: look for a 905XXXXXXX number in the middle of a few 613XXXXXXX. Couldn’t find it. I then asked her to check the last incoming call since M. Personal Stalker had called just a few minutes ago. She read a number aloud. Mine.

So apparently, all these 905-297-428- calls are somehow hidden and show up as my own phone number on the log. Only I can see the number on my phone caller ID and missed calls.

I then found myself explaining that no matter how hard I try, I couldn’t fucking call myself! “This is weird“, she acknowledged, “I will pass it on to the technicians, and they will call you back“.

And so I waited for a call back. A week. Two weeks. I called Virgin twice and had to repeat the whole story (which is quite complicated), and each time, I have been told that yes, the technicians would get back to me. I had also asked for a copy of the “user report” (basically, my outgoing and incoming calls) to check that number for myself. It had never been emailed to me. I spelled my email address three times. They always got it wrong, or so was the excuse.

Yesterday, I had my final conversation with Virgin. I called again, since no one ever got back to me. The phone number can not be blocked. Apparently, this is against Virgin’s policy. Now, if only I had the great-and-expensive-Nokia-phone, I could do it myself…

Fuck off. I’m not buying another phone just to stop harassing phone calls. Fuck Virgin (yes, I realize these are weird words combination).

I still receive tons of calls everyday from that number. My “personal stalker”.

What bothers me the most is that I’m sure there is a trick, a scam somewhere, but I don’t know where.

• I don’t think this is regular telemarketing: no call center would call 30 times a day, plus they would eventually give up considering I have never picked up the phone. Especially after a month…
• I don’t understand why the real number doesn’t show on Virgin’s logs. Why does my own phone number show?
• Who is calling me? According to the people who did pick up, it’s not consistent. I feel that if someone picks up the phone, the caller make it sound it’s a telemarketing/ political/ whatever call.
• I tried calling back, but the phone just beeps, can’t reach.

If you can help me to solve this mystery…

And you. Yes, you. Stop calling!

Pumpkins At The Byward Market

It’s pumpkin day in North America!

I personally think we should make it “chocolate day”… Seriously, a pumpkin pie vs. a chocolate tart: I made my choice!

In case you ask… yes, I took the pictures during the weekend, before the snow storm!