e's wheeling blog

September, 2004

Sunday 5th

After Berlin

We got back to Strasbourg without much mishap although the train lady in Berlin insisted on putting me in the wheelchair space inspite of the fact that we had reserved seats elsewhere. Berlin, in spite of accessibility signs, has patchy accessibility. I would not have been able to manage the buses without expereinced help; the bus ramps were steep, the bus drivers do not always see you and when it rains, the buses are too full even to contemplate.
Some of the subway has lifts and there is a guide to the accessible routes. I find the people quite friendly - it would help if I spoke German. Most of the buildings seem fairly accomodating to wheelchair users. I was bemused that the accessible toilets in the House of Culture (where the conference was held) were locked up and needed the attendant to unlock.
Today we went to the service at the Anglican chaplaincy, I took advantage of the fact that Naomi was with me because there are 4 steps to where the church services are held. It is held in the Dominican Church - a beautiful building. However, there is access in the modern aumônerie next door, alas, also with steps. Coming back from the US where I had been far more aware of disability rights and issues, I am at a quandary at having to explain that I felt I needed to go elsewhere to worship even when I have deep roots and very good friends in that community. When it came to my need for communion, I wanted a place where I could come and go without anybody's help however well meaning I know them to be. I know all about the dificulties of the listed building etc. and being the only disabled person in that able bodied world (the coffee afterward the service is held upstairs - at one point, I used to just come for the coffee where they had it at an accessible meeting room), I found myself at a loss to explain without sounding churlish at refusing help. I happened to read Bob Guter's editorial in this month's Bent Journal and understood completely what he meant when he wrote:

In our desire to be accepted we are far too often quietly grateful for what others choose to bestow on us instead of acting, sometimes noisily, for what we know we need, for our rights. As we grapple individually with each separate disability and accessibility issue we face emotional discomfort and exhaustion. On and on it goes, and far too often it seems easier to go along to get along.

I had so many memories in that church - family events and now coming back, it felt like home but it can not be home - for acessibility reasons as much as other personal reasons. It was all too complicated for me to unravel and I did not want to spend my limited energy battling there.

Sunday 12th

Party week

This week was mostly occupied with getting the apartment sorted out ( most of the work by Naomi) and preparing for the party. One frustrating thing about being in a wheelchair, which should be obvious but I am stating the obvious nervetheless, is not being able to move furniture about when I feel like it. The bookcases needed to swop rooms as did the wardrobe. The apartment is in the process of a change about and Naomi has been solidly clearing, cleaning and moving, putting up pictures while I made suggestions. The trouble with sorting out stuff is that it is inevitable that there will be boxes lying about and I get very frustrated trying to zig zag between boxes which I cannot pick up. Once it is done, it will be good but in the meantime, it can be like an obstacle race.
We also had a dinner party to plan and get ready for on Friday. It was supposed to be a small party, along the lines of a housewarming party but in the end, we had close to twenty people to feed. We did fine, we had chicken wings, beef rendang, chicken curry, turkey done with ginger and oyster sauce and noodles planned. All well and good, except that just an hour before the party, I put on the grill for the wings and discovered that the electricity was off. We kept our cool. I checked with the neighbours -theirs was working fine. They came over to check my fuses. Did I pay my electricity bill? I had a vague memory of sending them a direct payment slip from my bank. We rang up the Electricity Board and my Turkish neighbour, who is my Chilean copine's husband, ran to and fro following instructions and finally got the electricity current to come back on announcing that someting in the kitchen had tripped off the fuse and checked each of the electrical appliance in the kitchen. It narrowed down to the cooker, half gas and half electricity. He had to go, he had a match (football). We were 15 minutes before the guests were due to arrive and I had not finished cooking! Great!
The dinner went off fine. There was plenty to eat and drink, my freinds and neighbours were happy to see each other - some of them had not seen each other since my last gathering more than four years ago. We were an international crowd, Americans, British, Scottish, Taiwanese, Indian, Chilean, Mexicans, New Caledonian, and of course, French. I refused to consider what we would have done if the electricity had not been back on.
On Sunday, I went to my parish church, Très-Sainte-Trinité. Wonderful accessible church but few attendees on a Sunday morning. Abbé Jean-Marie Kuhn is the parish priest and he has been patient with my comings and goings all these years. I am sad to know he is moving to another parish. Ana and her 4 kids were at church too. It was so sweet to see Marianna and Alex bringing up the offering - and they traipsed across the church to give me the peace.
That evening, Naomi and I went to the cinema, UGC Ciné Cité. Its within walking distance and wonderfully accesible here. We saw Clean with Maggie Cheung in it.

Sunday, 19th

Strasbourg: La rentrée!

Actually, I think that was officially a couple of weeks ago but I only just feel it now. The streets are suddenly filled with young people - they are all over the pavements, in the supermaket, cafes, in the bank. I live next to the university and they are all about getting themselves ensconced backinto the university life and routine.
It was Saturday morning which turmed out to be a beautiful day, with a brilliant blue sky. I went to a local Turkish restaurant for a chicken kebab (if that is not a misnomer, since a kebab is normally beef, lamb or veal) with my son, John, out in the square/courtyard and stumbled onto the neighbourhood's annual brocante sale. This is equivalent to a car boot sale (in UK) and yard sale (in USA). It is good to see the kids out selling their discarded toys. I have picked up bargains in previous years: a dinner set of French Sarreguemine porcelain and some Danish ware for a very low sum. Someone was clearing out granny's house.
I went downtown on the tram down to Homme de Fer and it was so good to see the milling crowd - there is a definitely more purposeful air as opposed to the August languid heat. I lingered to people watch and admire the flowers spilling out to the flower shops and still hanging from town houses balconies and window boxes. Instead of taking the tram back I decided to roll along home and caught the cultural kiosks on Place Broglie. All the cultural institutions had a stand with their programs and handouts. I was very pleased to get those. People with disabilities get special concessions for some concerts such as the Palais de Congres. I asked about accessibility - most are except for the l'Opera du Rhin. A great shame because Strasbourg have some nice productions
On the way back, I stopped by my favourite drink place byt he quay and sat in the sunshine sipping on a Perrier. I really apreciate the ability to do this in Strasbourg, the quiet moment looking at the reflections of light on the water with St Paul's twin spires looming in the ditance. The quiet moment was soon broken by the roaring of some thousand (?) motorbikes protesting, according to the serving waitress, against new legislation to have head lights on at all times.
That evening, picking up some groceries for the weekend, I suddenly recalled that I was supposed to be in church for a farewell service for Jean-Marie Kuhn, our parish priest, and managed to arrive 15 minutes in to the service. Veronique, a Swiss friend, is doing the first reading. Not from the lectern because she is also a chair user but from the front of the congregation. Will church furniture ever accomodate chair users I wondered?
Jean-Marie is one of the most sensitive and sensible people I know. Warm and diffident, he had given me, an English speaker with atrocious French and a wheelchair user, a welcome into his parish that I have grown to appreciate more and more since I have been away. I am sad that he is going when I am back to stay this time.

Sunday, 26th

On Social Security and Paris!

Its been a busy week! On Monday, I was told that I should sign up for ASSEDIC (the French dole/unemployment) as looking for work. So I went to the ASSEDIC office to register myself and found it inaccessible. A man came down the stairs to tell me I should do it over the telephone and that I would then get an interview. It was a bit of a long track from the tram station to the ASSEDIC office and it had started to drizzle. I did not relish going back the same way-luckily the man told me about the no.10 bus which was just across Av. de Vosges. I took the bus back to Cafe Brandt and went down to the Galia tram stop to go home.
I went to Paris by train on the Wednesday. It was one of the new trains - I had a compartment to myself which was great. In France, you are well advised to arrive half an hour before the train is due to depart - that gives them enough time to get out the lift. They call it a "passerelle" and it gets you to the level of the train. My only complaint is that the seats were not sufficiently comfortable to be able to stretch out. Paris is still magic for me. I stayed at the Ibis Cambronne Tour Eiffel. It is clean, comfortable and accessible. You do have to ask for a room with an accessible bathroom when you book - if you do it online, make sure you confirm that with a phone call because not all the online data gets registered on their database. The hotel is convenient in its locations too, there is a taxi rank nearby and plenty of restaurants and pharmacies in the area. Getting a taxi depends on time and luck. It took me more than an hour to get a taxi to go to the Louvre but it wasn't just me - others had the same problem. I was impressed by the taxi (Alpha Taxi) when it finally arrived for me (I waved ahead an elderly couple - I thought I was seated but they were standing for quite a long time at the taxi stand), the card the driver gave me had braille on it and he gave me a nice map of Paris.
The Louvre is as impressive as I remembered it to be. It always gives me a kick to go on the lift in the Pyramid. It is a metallic tube which goes dramatically up or down. For me, it is an architectural statement not just an access facility. In France people with disabilities are waived entrance fees. I picked up a guide on accessibility and ventured off. There are miles and miles of exhibits in the Louvre - I wish they offered scooters for those who have ambulatory problems. I had an appointment with Xavier Perrot at the l'Ecole du Louvre (the website is flash driven) which turned out to be more problematic than I expected. The staff at the Louvre were very helpful but they did not know the access to the school. Neither could they call out of the Museum to ask the school next door. Inspite of the name, the Ecole du Louvre is a private school. ( correction: Xavier informed me later that "EDL (Ecole du Louvre) is not a private school, it's public. But it is separated to le Musée Louvre, they both are hosted in the "Palais du Louvre", but have different directors, boards, staff, etc.") After many false starts, I did get into the foyer of the school and luckily spotted Xavier sauntering in to look for me. The phone number he had given me did not work for some reason so we were not able to communicate. I think once the access system was understood, the school is well equipped for people with wheelchairs. For visitors, they need more signage as to the accessible entrance which is at the Porte des Lions in the Louvre (not the entrance but the door opposite the entrance).
The Musée Guimet is a wonderful museum - I felt at once at home there arriving at the South-east Asian collection. The ambience there is at once intimate and yet spacious. I especially appreciated an exhibition of images "Voyage Spirituel" by Ahmet Ertug. The book which goes with it is on display and there is information on it on the museum's homepage at the moment.
The quiet museum was a great contrast to the busy-ness in the Louvre. Many of the visitors were sketching. One gets the feeling that this is for the knowledgeable visitor not the guided tourist. A lady approached me enquiring if I was a student at the Ecole du Louvre because she saw me there the day before!
Wheelchair access is another question. There was a lift at the front of the building - which did not work for me. No signage whatsoever for directions. Finally I asked another visitor to enquire for me - a lady came down and directed me to go to a side door which she proceeded to open for me. There is no indication that there was a side entrance. Again I wondered how often they have visitors with disabilites.

copyright © 2004 thoelisney