Chapter Seven

When I was admitted to study at the Paris Conservatoire, I moved out of the finishing school at 12 Rue Monsieur, as I needed more time to practise, which meant that I had to have a piano in my room. It’s never easy to find a place where a musician can practise long hours without disturbing the neighbours. There was a hostel in the 17th arrondissement called the Foyer Musical, which catered for music students but there was a long waitlist since the place could only accommodate about 120 students, all girls. Somehow with the assistance of Professor Pierre Sancan and Mademoiselle Chabaud, the Directress at 12 Rue Monsieur, I was fortunate to get a room by the time the new term started in October at the Conservatoire.

Life at the Foyer Musical at 87 Rue de Tocqueville was very different from what I had experienced at the finishing school. For one thing the place was noisy since none of the rooms were soundproof, and it bustled with activity, quite unlike the quiet and aristocratic ambience that I had experienced at 12 Rue Monsieur. Run by Catholic nuns the Foyer was to be my home for seven years. Sister Monique and Sister Paul were in charge of all the Administration, Sister Monique being the more robust and active hands-on person while Sister Paul manned the desk at the office. Elderly Sister Louise sat at the entrance to the Foyer and greeted everyone who came and went, clicked the door open whenever the doorbell rang, answered the ancient telephone that rang like a fire brigade bell, and distributed the mail into all the students’ postbox cubicles. She had an equally placid cat, a very dainty ladylike feline with beautiful emerald green eyes, a fluffy tail and gleaming jet-black fur, who had the run of the Foyer and knew just who she could visit when she needed a warm place to snuggle on cold nights.   

The main door from the Rue de Tocqueville opened onto a cobbled walkway which had a high wall on one side and led to the entrance of the Foyer. When I first arrived I was given a room on the first floor above the entrance in this building, a room which I had to share with another student much to my dismay. The room itself was very small having just enough space for two beds and a cupboard and a table. I had to endure these cramped quarters for about a month until the Sisters found another single room on the same floor. That too was still quite small but at least I didn’t have to share it with anyone! It wasn’t until the following year that I got a much better room at a different block which faced the inner courtyard. Until then, since I couldn’t have a piano as yet in my room, I had juggle my time between all my classes at the Conservatoire and my piano practice either at the piano shop where I used to practise, or whenever I could at the Conservatoire itself. It was an extremely hectic schedule and quite tiring! Fortunately by now my French was more fluent and I was more familiar with the Metro and even the bus routes. I must add that the public transport was very good in Paris and very affordable for students. 

Initially I didn’t like the Foyer at all! I guess I had been in a way, ‘spoiled’ with my two-year stay at the finishing school where life was so different from the noisy rough-and-tumble of a student’s hostel. I was now completely on my own. I missed the talkative company of cheerful Mlle Royot who had chaperoned me and who had shown me how to use the Metro. I missed my friends from the finishing school and the more elegant lifestyle I’d become accustomed to. I missed my parents and my comfortable home in Malaysia. For the first time I was homesick! Back in those days there were no smartphones, communication was by airmail in the post. So I had a good cry by myself and then slipped out from the Foyer and went for a walk. That’s when I stopped at one of the flower stalls and the sight of all those beautiful flowers arranged in small bouquets restored my composure. Their vibrant splash of colours lifted my spirits and I felt much better. 

The Foyer buildings surrounded a very large rectangular shaped courtyard with spaced-out trees and pebbled paths. There was a dining hall or refectory, beside the kitchen where lunch and dinner were served from Monday to Friday at specific times. During the weekends we had to fend for ourselves. On the ground floor of my building there was a small kitchenette next to the showers and the laundry room for those who wished to cook. Everyone was allowed to practise from 8am until 8pm. Since none of the rooms were soundproof, there was a dreadful cacaphony of sound from all the students’ practicing throughout the day, silenced only by the loud unmusical clanging of the bell at mealtimes. 

I was relieved when I finally got a bigger room in the more modern building which overlooked the courtyard. It was on the second floor, the third being the highest floor at the Foyer. No lifts but that didn’t bother anyone. Come to think of it, how ever did we haul up our overloaded suitcases, our heavy bags of books, boxes of bottled water and whatever else we had to carry! I was pleased to get this room because it was beside the staircase and it was quite bright and airy with a large French window and light coloured wallpaper. It had a single bed, a table, a chair and a narrow built-in wooden cupboard with shelves. On one side of the room was a curtained partition where there was a washstand.

I think that I was probably one of the longer-staying students, most left the Foyer after two years or less. I wasn’t disturbed much with having noisy neighbours, on the contrary, as I was the one who practised a lot, I must’ve been rather tiresome to tolerate especially at the weekends! I was very focused on my studies and I didn’t allow myself to get distracted. I managed my own meals quite well over the weekends or whenever I couldn’t have my meals at the Foyer. I had a small portable single burner gas cooker and an electric kettle since there was no hot water at the washbasin in my room. I covered a cardboard box with a thick sheet of plastic and this fit nicely on my tiny balcony between the French window and the railing. The weather was cold enough during Autumn, Winter and even Spring, which allowed me to keep some butter, fresh milk, yoghurt and cheese in my cardboard ‘fridge’ on the balcony, so I was always well stocked. On weekends I discovered a Chinese restaurant beside the church I attended. It was run by a Chinese family from Hong Kong and over time they knew my preferred dishes, often giving me very generous servings of food. I had a metal tiffin carrier so I would order my food before going to church and collect it after the service. I always had three dishes, either fish or meat and a vegetable dish, and a soup. I cooked my own portion of rice or pasta in my room, or I bought bread. On several occasions these Chinese takeaway meals were more than ample and I helped friends when they felt unwell to get something to eat. I always had plenty of cheese because at the refectory downstairs, since none of the Japanese and Chinese girls ate any cheese which was put on their tables I took these up to my room.

In time I had a very pleasant and cosy room which was always so comforting to return to after my classes at the Conservatoire. Fortunately the rooms were well heated at the Foyer and the heating wasn’t disconnected during the night. My mother sent me some lovely red linen curtains from home and they lent a cheery atmosphere to my room and a lovely warm red glow through the window which was heartwarming to see when I walked back to my building as I always left a light on in my room whenever I returned late. I managed to hire a brand new Weinbach upright piano to my great surprise, since usually only secondhand pianos were   hired out. I missed my practice on that beautiful Blüthner grand piano at the piano shop, but at least I was lucky to have a new upright piano in my room which was definitely more convenient. I was also lucky that I was allowed to keep this same upright piano for all the years I stayed at the Foyer. 

In time I made several friends at the Foyer. My immediate neighbour was a Greek girl, Alexandra, who had a beautiful soprano voice. My other neighbour on the other side of the staircase was a Thai girl, Anuree. A couple of doors away there was an English girl, Susan, whose neighbour was another Greek girl, Hélène. Upstairs on the third floor was an American harpist, Meta, and downstairs on the first floor, an Armenian Iranien, Roubina whose neighbour was a Japanese girl, Harumi, a remarkable piano student whom I met in Professor Sancan’s class, and from another building across the courtyard, a Finnish girl, Elina, who was a violin student at the Conservatoire. We were all busy with our various schedules but we met at the refectory at mealtimes or when we went to do our personal laundry downstairs where there was hot water at the huge sinks in the laundry room. I used to go with Meta to the selfservice laundromat two streets away from the Foyer, to get our bed linen and towels machine washed and dried. This usually took almost three hours so while waiting for our laundry we took our aural homework to prepare. For foreign students most of us struggled with the difficult rhythmic Solfège exercises which had to be verbally articulated while conducting the beat according to the written notation - real tongue twisters and unrealistic rhythmic configurations! Solfège was a compulsory subject which every student had to pass in order to sit for the performance exams! 

During the long summer break, especially during the month of August, we parted company at the Foyer since everyone including the nuns left Paris. Back in those days, Paris was quite deserted during August. I couldn’t return home each year so when I wasn’t attending any summer school courses, I went to stay at Coligny with a very kind couple, Monsieur and Madame Epinat whom I called Oncle Bartho (Uncle Bartho) and Tante Colette (Aunt Colette). When I entered the Paris Conservatoire Monsieur Epinat was the French ambassador to Malaysia. One summer holiday when I returned home I gave a recital at his residence and that’s how I cultivated a wonderful friendship with both him and his wife. They treated me like their daughter and they insisted that I called them Oncle Bartho and Tante Colette. They were both very interested in the Performing Arts and he was an extremely well-read person with a keen interest in a wide range of topics. Malaysia was his last post as French ambassador. He had been French ambassador to Nigeria and Korea, if I recall correctly. He himself was an artist and did the most amazing pen-and-ink drawings besides paintings in oil and in watercolour. At all the countries where he had been posted as French ambassador he acquainted himself with the local culture and collected artefacts which were displayed in his spacious atelier at his home in Coligny.

Monsieur Epinat and his wife had a beautiful chateau, or manor house, in Coligny, a small town in the Ain region of France. They restored the chateau which stood on rambling wooded grounds of ten hectares. The beauty of the grounds was breathtaking especially during Autumn.

From the concierge’s house at the main gate it was a kilometre drive by car to the chateau. There was a small orchard planted with fruit trees on one of the slopes and fronting the chateau was a private garden where Madame Epinat had different flowering plants according to the different seasons. Beside the side entrance door to the chateau was a fountain from a natural spring that spilled into a wide stone basin. 

I used to spend almost every holiday break I had from the Conservatoire, at Christmas and at Easter and during the summer in August, at Coligny. I would take the train from Paris to Bourg-en-Bresse, the nearest town to Coligny where Madame Epinat would come to meet me at the station. My kind hosts always kept a room for me on the first floor of their beautiful chateau and they even hired an upright piano for me to practise in the library during the longer summer holidays. I have the fondest memories etched forever in my heart of all my holidays at Coligny.

To be continued...