When I was growing up we had no rubbish-bin collection. Waste papers were burned, leftover food was transformed and re-served, empty bottles were a bit of a problem but almost everything else ended its life rotting on the compost heap at the bottom of our garden. We used the compost as fertilizer and used the worms from the compost as bait for fishing.

But in a Parisian apartment composting is impossible, so my raw fruit and vegetable peels just have to go in the bin.

But one day this summer, as I was walking through the park near my home, I noticed three large wooden boxes or chests. They’d obviously been put there recently, I could get that tarry smell of new wood coated with preservative. The hinges on the lids were shiny and new-looking too. Intrigued, I looked closer and saw that each chest was clearly labelled, the first one said “Currently in use,” number two said “For future use” and the last one, “Dry matter.” An explanation was provided in the form of a notice telling the world that this was to be the site of a project called “Organic Composting” giving the name of the park, and an email address for those who needed further information.

I sent off an email asking for information and, more importantly, if I could throw my organic waste in the “Organic Compost.” My request was answered immediately with an invitation to a meeting the following Saturday morning at eleven, in the park.

Saturday morning at eleven there was only me standing beside the three wooden compost chests, then two or three stragglers with cans of beer. Five minutes later a couple arrived, settled on a bench and started what looked like a serious discussion. After about twenty minutes other people started to arrive and to gather around the three wooden chests, mostly young couples with babies in strollers. We looked at each other, wondering if one of us might be the person who sent the invitation.

Finally, a young woman arrived, tall and with such an air of natural self-possession and authority that it was clear that she was the one, our leader, our lovely Compost Queen. She addressed the waiting crowd, about ten of us by now, the stragglers and the couple on the bench having understood this wasn’t for them. Certain things had to be made clear, she explained, the first being that this was a meeting of the Square L. compost and if you happened to come from another neighborhood, she mentioned another one, a single metro station away, then you had to use their compost.

The imposters slunk away.

She went on to explain that it was a participative compost project, that we’d all have to take turns manning it one Saturday a month and that we should put our names down now if we wanted to take part.

“But, there is a waiting list,” she said, “and places are limited.”

My heart sank as I imagined having to sit an exam, a sort of French concours, but before I could object there were mumblings from the other candidates too and so she assured us that those of us who were present would all be admitted. We smiled at each other, relieved to know that our tea bags and coffee dregs would be welcomed and could rot away comfortably.

She explained too that we mustn’t presume that it was easy, you don’t simply dump your organic waste into it, you have to stir it all up with a large wand-like instrument provided and held in the lid, and then you add some of the “dry matter” from wooden chest number three to soak up the liquefied rot. To give a demonstration of this the Compost Queen opened up the lid of the chest currently in use. We all leapt back and waited until the swarms of flies suddenly released had escaped, and then had a good look at what had already been put into the chest and was composting.

“Not good,” she said. “Look at those onions. Worms don’t like onions. And you should break up your eggshells before putting them in, you can’t expect the worms to climb over them. No citrus fruits, no shop-bought flowers, they are all bad for the worms.”

She then delicately picked out the few onions and the cut flowers visible on the top of the pile and threw them in the nearby waste-bin.

“What about newspapers?” someone dared ask.

“Yes, they’re allowed, but not if they come from your grandmother’s attic, the ink will have lead in it,” came the answer.

There were other questions and gradually the company relaxed a bit as we exchanged composting stories and experiences. One woman told me about how she had spent a year in London as an au-pair and that was when she discovered compost-heaps. She told me that when an English person shows you around their house, they will proudly take you to visit their compost-heap too. After a brief word about what compost duty entailed, we were each given a green bucket, the meeting broke up and we all went home.

I put myself down for compost duty a month or two later, picking the only date that wasn’t already taken. I was there at ten o’clock, it was lashing rain, not another soul in sight. I opened the compost chest marked “in current use.” Nothing alarming seemed to be happening so I closed it again. After a few minutes our beautiful Compost Queen came. We chatted. She told me about the work that running the compost group involved. She had volunteered to Paris City Hall when they were looking for people interested in starting one in their neighborhood and they gave her a one-day course in composting and planting. So I asked her where and when our compost would be used for planting. She lowered her eyelids as she told me with great sadness that in Paris City Hall, compost comes under “waste” and planting comes under “green spaces,” and “green spaces” doesn’t speak to “waste.”

We pondered this one for a minute or two under our umbrellas. Then we decided just to keep on composting and said goodbye.

Text and photos © 2017, Niamh Tixier

Niamh Tixier is Irish and has been living in Paris for several years.

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The following year, Mrs Helen Carew, a friend of Robert Ross and who had known Wilde in his heyday, anonymously offered £2000 to erect a monument by the young and controversial sculptor Jacob Epstein on Wilde’s new resting place in Père Lachaise.

The commission, a flying angel with Assyrian overtones, was executed and finally unveiled in 1914. Apart from the appearance of a few graffiti in the 1950s and the hacking off of the angel’s private parts by person or persons unknown sometime in the early 1960s, the monument survived relatively unscathed until 1985. It was then that the graffiti started to increase exponentially in number.

The expense of regular cleaning prompted the descendants of Wilde and Ross (whose ashes were placed in the tomb in 1950) to seek listing for the tomb as a French Historic Monument, in the hope that classification would, to some extent, deter those who were defacing it.

In 1995, after a thorough cleaning and resoration thanks to the generosity of the Irish government, the Monuments Historiques included it on their ‘Liste Supplementaire’ (the equivalent of about Grade II* in the UK) and suggested that an application be made at once to apply for a full status. This was accorded two years later, almost as a matter of course. Wilde’s tomb in Père Lachaise is now a fully classified French Historic Monument – a Grade I listed structure.

Since about 1999, the graffiti have been replaced by a far more worrying phenomenon – the placing of lipstick kisses on the stone. The grease base of the lipstick penetrates the stone and long after the colouring pigments have faded, a grease ‘shadow’ is still visible. A bronze plaque at the base of the tomb since the early 1990s asking visitors in English and French to “respect the memory of Oscar Wilde and do not deface this tomb…” no longer has any effect at all. ‘Kissing Oscar’s tomb’ on the Paris tourist circuit has become a cult pastime, the continuity of which is proving impossible to break.

From a technical point of view the tomb is close to being irreparably damaged; each cleaning has degraded some of the stone surface and rendered it more porous and has subsequently necessitated a more drastic cleaning.

Now, once again, the Irish have come to the rescue and have funded a radical cleaning and ‘de-greasing’ of the tomb, as well as a glass barrier which will surround it to prevent the lipstick-kissing fans from causing further damage.

The renovation and protection of the tomb was celebrated in Père Lachaise on 30 November, the 111th anniversary of Wilde’s death, in the presence of the Irish Minister of State at the Dept. of Arts, Heritage and the Gaeltacht, Mr. Dinny McGinley TD, the Irish Ambassador and high-ranking French officials, and Merlin Holland, Wilde’s grandson. The actor Rupert Everett, who has played in film adaptations of Wilde’s plays  The Importance of Being Earnest and The Ideal Husband, was special guest of honour at the event.

It is hoped that the event will draw attention to the problem and will make those who visit Wilde’s tomb from now on aware of the damage their predecessors have caused and appeal to their sense of respect.

*

The information above was provided by Sheila Pratschke, Director of the Centre Culturel Irlandais, 5 rue des Irlandais in the 5th arrondissement of Paris.

The France Revisited article “Spotlight on the National and Religious Cultural Centers of Paris” includes information about the Irish Cultural Center.

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While Paris’s seasonal crop of exhibitions, theater and music clamors for attention, the numerous national and religious cultural centers of Paris yield their fruit year-round to lesser fanfare.

These centers welcome members and outside visitors to diverse programming of a more intimate or confidential kind, bringing to Paris glimpses great and small of nations and of religions.

Some of the centers and institutes listed below are worth a visit even without attending a particular event since they occupy notable or historical buildings or attractive settings in their own right: for example, the Swedish Cultural Center has a peaceable tearoom in his historic building and courtyard in the Marais, while the Collège des Bernadins (a Catholic cultural center) occupies a historical building of the 13th century across the river from Notre-Dame.

Here to start are six institutions that reveal the diversity of these cultural centers

1. Irish Cultural Center
5 rue des Irlandais, 5th arrondissement
The Irish Cultural Center, located two blocks south of the Pantheon, grew out of the Collège des Irlandais, a Catholic seminary for Irish students. A community of Irish students and clergymen officially gathered on the Left Bank in 1578 as they sought refuge for training and education of Catholicism, then restricted back home. Irish colleges (seminaries) were then set up in various Catholic or Catholic-friendly countries of Europe; about 30 existed in continental Europe by the end of the 18th century, with the community in Paris being the largest. The students moved into the location of what is now Irish Cultural Center in 1775. Later extensions include a chapel dedicated to Saint Patrick, which still holds Sunday mass open to the public, and a library of old books and manuscripts, many dating from the 15th to 18th centuries, visited only by special permission. A modern library on the ground floor is open to the public.

La Fondation Irlandaise (The Irish Foundation), comprised of French and Irish members, has managed the Collège des Irlandais since a decree by Napoleon Bonaparte in 1805. The street the center is on was renamed for the Irish two years later, though the complex has also served other functions over the years. In 1945 it briefly served as a refuge for displace persons claiming or requesting American nationality. From 1945 to 1997 it was used as a Polish seminary. Returned to the Irish, now financed by the Irish government, and no longer a religious center despite the presence of the chapel, the Irish Cultural Center reopened as such in 2002. The center promotes various aspects of culture emanating from the island, including music, poetry, literature and film. The center also has housing for 45 students, artists and writers.

2. British Council 
9-11 rue de Constantine, 7th arrondissement
The British have an extensive educational and cultural network throughout the world in the form of the British Council, “an executive non-departmental public body, a public corporation (in accounting terms) and a charity” promoting all things British. The British Council in Paris is of most interest to English-speakers residing or visiting the city for its occasional speaking events involving prestigious figures in the fields of the film, literature and the performing arts. The British Council is also heavily involved in efforts to promote the English language through courses and to promote British science, culture and arts through cooperative programs.

3. Swedish Institute
11 rue Payenne, 3rd arrondissement.
This is Sweden’s only foreign official cultural center in any country. From the historical mansion that it has occupied in the Marais since 1971 (making it one of the first such mansions to be restored in the district), the Swedish Institute organizes exhibitions, concerts, encounters with writers, projects of films, theater and debates on questions of culture, science and society. Swedish classes are also available.

Even without an exhibition the Swedish Institute makes for an appealing stop in the Marais for its café/lunch room, open noon to 6 p.m. Tues.-Sun. Swedish bread, pastries, soup and sandwiches.

4. Collège des Bernardins, a Catholic cultural center. 
20 rue de Poissy, 5th arrondissement
Before considering its contemporary use, it’s worth noting that the Collège des Bernadins, owned and operated by the Catholic Diocese of Paris, is of exceptional architectural value for its 230-foot-long (70-meter-long) 13th-century “nave” that originally served as living space and educational center for Cistercian monks (also known as Bernardins after Saint Bernard who helped develop the order).

In the absence of special events in the nave, entrance is free and open to the public. It’s located on the Left Bank just one street back from the river across from Notre-Dame. Its gardens, in fact, once spread to the riverbank.

Construction of the Collège des Bernardins was part of the development of centers of learning (which at the time meant a theological education) on the Left Bank are that is now the 5th arrondissement. The origins of the Sorbonne, founded by Robert de Sorbon, also date from this period of the 13th century. The area would eventually become known as the Latin Quarter since the education of these and other institutions was in Latin.

The Collège des Bernadins declined in the second half of the 18th century and, during the revolution, lost its religious function when seized from the Church as national property. It was first transformed into a prison and then used as a fire station for 150 years beginning in 1845.

Purchased by the Diocese of Paris in 2001, a vast project of restoration and enhancement was then undertaken (costing 52 million euros, including 14 million in public funding) to create a center “dedicated to hopes and questions of our society and their encounter with Christian wisdom.” The center reopened in 2008. According to the center’s administrators, no public funding is used for its operating expenses.

The mixed-use center holds exhibits, performances and musical events, provides classrooms for theological and biblical education through the Cathedral School, and organizes conferences and lectures that bring together a political, artistic and academic intelligentsia to discuss numerous themes as vast and varied as biomedical ethics, economics, and relations between Judaism and Christianity.  Events take place in the nave or in the comfortable 240-seat auditorium that has been added beneath the eves.

5. Polish Institute
31 rue Jean Goujon, 8th arrondissement.
As with many of the national institutes and centers on this list, the Polish institute is a window to the nation’s contemporary artistic and intellectual culture and has the mission of promoting the national culture and influence while favoring international cultural exchanges with the host country. The Polish Institute excels in this form of cultural diplomacy in Paris through its programming that presents intellectual and artistic and historical views and voices from Poland.

6. Arab Institute
1 rue des Fossées-Saint-Bernard, 5th arrondissement.
The Arab Institute, Institut du Monde Arabe, opened in 1987 on the left bank of the Seine with a mission of presenting to the public Islamic-Arab culture from its origins to today. It therefore presents and representing a region (ignoring Israel), a religion and the diverse cultures of Arab countries.

Financed by France with contributions by Arab states, the institute has three main goals: to make the French aware of the Arab world, to favor cultural exchanges and to reinforce France-Arab cooperation.

The Lebanese restaurant at the top of the building has a delicious view of Notre-Dame, the Seine and the rooftops of Paris. The building was designed by group of architects led by French architect Jean Nouvel.

Map showing location of the six institutions described above

An extended and non-exhaustive list of other cultural centers and institutes in Paris

The names of organizations representing non-English-language countries have been translated into English for the purposes of this article.

7. Algerian Cultural Center, rue de la Croix-Nivert, 15th arr.
8. Bulgarian Cultural Institute, rue de la Boétie, 8th arr.
9. Canadian Cultural Center, 5 rue de Constantine, 7th arr.
10. Cervantes Institute of Paris (Spanish cultural center) , 7 rue Quentin Bauchart, 8th arr.
11. Cultural Center of China in Paris, boulevard de la Tour Maubourg, 7th arr.
12. Danish House, 142 avenue des Champs-Elysées, 8th arr.
13. Dutch Institute, 121 rue de Lille, 7th arr.
14. Egyptian Cultural Center, 11 boulevard Saint-Michel, 5th arr.
15. Finnish Institute, 60 rue des Ecoles, 5th arr.
16. Goethe Institute (German Cultural Center), 17 avenue d’Iéna, 16th arr.
17. Greek Cultural Center, 23 rue Galilée, 16th arr.
18. Hungarian Institute of Paris, 92 rue Bonaparte, 6th arr.
19. Italian Cultural Institute, 73 rue de Grenelle, 7th arr.
20. Japanese Cultural Center, 101 bis quai Branly, 15th arr.
21. Korean Cultural Center, 2 avenue d’Iéna, 16th arr.
22. Kurdish Institute of Paris, 106 rue La Fayette, 10th arr.
23. Latin American House, 217 boulevard Saint-Germain, 7th arr.
24. Mexican Cultural Center, 119 rue Vieille du Temple, 3rd arr.
25. Romanian Cultural Institute, 1 rue de l’Exposition, 7th arr.
26. Russian Center for Science and Culture, 61 rue Boissière, 16th arr.
27. Swiss Cultural Center, 32-38 rue des Francs-Bourgeois, 3rd arr.
28. Cultural Center of Taiwan in Paris, 78 rue de l’Université, 7th arr.
29. Cultural Center of Vietnam in Paris, 19-19bis rue Albert, 13th arr.

There used to be an American Center in Paris, but it went broke in 1996.

The association Forum des Instituts Culturels Etrangers à Paris (FICEP) bring together 46 foreign and regional cultural institutes in the capital. For more information on FICEP, which celebrates Foreign Culures Week in Paris from Sept. 23 to Oct. 2 this year, see www.ficep.info.

© 2011, Gary Lee Kraut

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So I was a bit wary when I saw a jar of “D-Day Honey” for sale this summer at Bernard Lebrec’s apple farm in Englesqueville la Percée, a village between Pointe du Hoc and the American Cemetery.

Had Bernard, whose farm I’d always enjoyed visiting for its authenticity, gone crass commercial? What could honey possibly have to do with D-Day?

A lot, it turns out—far more than those baseball caps, placemats and squirt guns.

First, Bernard reassured me that D-Day was apple blossom honey, made locally by a friend of his.

So I bought a jar. Good stuff. In fact, I thought of writing this piece because I’ve nearly finished my jar of D-Day and, needing another to get me through the honey-in-my-tea days of winter, I found in fine print on the label  the contact information of the beekeeper, Ed Robinson.

Ed is an Irishman living in Cartigny l’Epinay, a village about 12 miles (20 kilometers) south of Omaha Beach. He moved to France eight years ago to learn French and, long interested in military history, soon got a job as a D-Day tour guide. After six years working for others, he created his own touring company, Battle of Normandy Tours.

Like his interest in military history, Ed’s passion for beekeeping began at an early age. He says that he was about five when he developed a fascination with bees and even asked his mother then if he could have a hive. No, she told him, but he could have one when he was ten. And she kept her word!

He soon joined the nearest beekeepers society, about 15 miles (22 km) from home, and little by little learned how to maintain a colony of bees and produce honey. By the time he was a teen he was getting calls from around the village to help remove the bees from their property, and by 15 he was the proud owner of an apiary consisting of five or six hives.

Despite his success with the bees in Ireland he never collected much honey there due to the weather. And when he moved to an apartment in Normandy he left the hives abandoned in a corner of his parents’ property.

Three years ago he bought a house in Catigny l’Epinay with room in the yard for his bees. Returning to Ireland for Christmas that year he packed up his hives and bees, loaded them into his car, brought them to Normandy on the ferry—with their Department of Agriculture clearance papers—and moved them into his and their new home.

For an Irish bee, Normandy is apparently everything you could hope for to produce honey thanks to the relatively mild weather and the presence of so many flowering plants, most notably the apple trees in this area of the department of Calvados. As the stockpile of honey grew so did Ed’s dream of selling it. Since Ed was then creating his own battle zone touring company, it made both personal and business sense to call his product D-Day Honey. He came up with the idea of a label showing a bee driving a tank, and his brother, an artist, created the final design of the machinegun-toting bee on the American tank that now appears on the label.

The jar that I’ve nearly finished is mostly apple blossom honey, but Ed tells me that he also produces honey that comes from other plants, after the apple trees have blossomed. So I’m looking forward to trying that next.

“Beekeeping and honey production are just a hobby for me,” says Ed, now 38, “but one which I have found to be a source of immense enjoyment for most of my teenage and adult life.”

Ed and the bees may have arrived by ferry rather than by warship, but I’m glad to see such an authentic local product play on the D-Day theme.

Furthermore D-Day Honey goes very well with tea in my D-Day mug.

Let the winter honey-in-my-tea season begin!

* * *

Ed Robinson and D-Day Honey: For more about Ed Robinson’s D-Day Honey and his Battle of Normandy Tours see www.BattleofNormandytours.com/honey.html.

Bernard Lebrec: Bernard Lebrec’s apple farm produces juice, cidre, pommeau and Calvados. It’s located at Englesqueville la Percée on the main road between Pointe du Hoc and the American Cemetery. Tel. 02 31 22 70 72. E-mail b.lebrec@wanadoo.fr.

© 2010, Gary Lee Kraut

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