A European Thanksgiving

This weekend I went to Trier, Germany to visit two of my best friends who are studying abroad, and it was such a wonderful, happy experience. We decided that since Europeans don't celebrate Thanksgiving, we would have our own psuedo-Thanksgiving meal (I say psuedo because finding the right ingredients...like turkey....was impossible).

Although we celebrated a week early, it was one of the best Thanksgivings I've ever had. And, in retrospect, it was probably my most symbolic and meaningful Thanksgiving yet. Three friends scattered across Europe (me-Angers, Devon-Trier, Maggie-Hannover) traveled great distances in order to be together for an American holiday. Back home, Thanksgiving is a celebration of tradition, but it often evolves into a habit...consequently, not much thought is put into why we are having a feast with our family and friends. This year, however, we put so much effort into our Thanksgiving because we are thankful for our friendship, because we are thankful for each other, and because we have so much to be thankful for (as is made evident by our being in Europe).

Thinking about this made me really happy. I am very thankful to be in France right now and sooo thankful for all my friends and family here and back home who have kept me in their thoughts, because sometimes it has been very difficult being so far away from the life that is familiar to me.

I will admit, October was a tough month to get through. Very often, I was pessimistic about being in France and felt what I suppose is home-sickness. But, ever since November came around, I have had the highest spirits. Maybe it's because I know--I can feel--that the end is very near and will come before I know it. Now, when I walk around Angers, I just smile. Despite the inconveniences of not having a car, having to do laundry at a "laverie" and using a kitchen whose appliances don't really work, I will miss things like going to the boulangerie every day to get bread and croissants, taking the train every where I want to go, and living in a place where I can walk to the grocery store.

I know that these next few weeks will fly by. For starters, I have a 15-page paper that I haven't started on due in a week. So, this week will probably not last LONG enough. But that's my fault. Then after that, I will be taking finals, and until school is finished, my last three weekends living in Angers will be spent in Paris, Marseille (picking up a car which I will then drive to Angers), and Amsterdam. And then it's Christmas! I can't wait, and I think that it's this impatience that makes me appreciate Angers even more.

Vive la Fra...l'Algerie?

For the second half of last week, I returned to Fos with Oma and Opa. Saturday I got to see Pauline, which was so much fun! I thought being in the same country as one of my best friends would mean hanging out more, but so far I’ve only seen her twice! I went to Marseille to see her and the day ended up being much more eventful than expected.

I drove myself to Marseille and when I got there, the route the GPS wanted me to take was blocked due to construction. The detour was a nightmare. What should have taken me five minutes to drive through took an HOUR AND A HALF. Why? This article sums it up:

http://www.reuters.com/article/latestCrisis/idUSLE520367

I got to Marseille right as a huge riot erupted. While I was driving, I had no idea what was going on, but I was very literally scared for my life. The roads were completely blocked because thousands of Algerian immigrants were running around waving the Algerian flag, waving flaming torches, throwing objects, screaming, and honking. As I tried to drive down the clogged streets, people would hit my car. And all this because of a soccer match? Geez.

Anyway, it ended up being kind of serious. Before the day was over, the riot had spread all over Marseille. Cars were flipped, smoke bombs and rocks thrown at police and store windows, and the grand finale was that night as I was leaving: boats in the Vieux Port (the famous one from the Count of Monte Cristo) were lit on fire…two of them sunk.

For me, it was a really weird experience; for France, a huge frustration. I know that this riot was sparked by a soccer match, but I think it was propelled by underlying bitterness of the immigrants and their descendents towards French government and society. I really believe that tension is building (there is a huge debate right now about what the “French Identity” is and who belongs) and that a replay of the 2005 riots is bound to happen before long.

la Lozère

on the roads in Lozere
le Cellier.

Last week I had a vacation from school grace à Armistice Day on November 11^th. The break was very much needed and I have come back to Angers completely refreshed and motivated to finish the 30 days I have left of school here. For le pont (what they call short holidays here in France), I went south. I really am a southern girl in every sense…born in southern France, raised in Mississippi…and it felt so good to be with my people again and in a place that is very familiar to me.

For the first half of the break, Oma, Opa, and I went to the house in le Cellier (“The Cellar” in English). The village is really, really tiny, but it is always such a pleasure to be there, and it is no surprise to me why it is the place where my family has vacationed now for the past 50 years. The region is la Lozère and is in le Masif Central, which is a mountain range (of dead volcanoes) in south-central France. It should be mentioned that this region is the most rural in all of France, having about 3 habitants per kilometer squared (Paris has 20,000 habitants per square km). My guess is that in le Cellier there might be about 20 families (all small farmers)…but no more.

Reasons why I love Lozère:

1. Very often, one is woken up in the morning by the sound of sheep being herded down the street from the barns to the meadows.

2. One must drive for thirty minutes to get to the closest grocery store and to find internet.

3. The landscape is breathtakingly beautiful and very isolated from the rest of France. It can only be reached by small winding roads along rocky cliffs.

4. Everyone is obsessed with mushroom hunting.

5. You buy your cheese, milk, eggs, and sausage from your neighbor.

The region has a sort of ancient mystique to it. All of the houses are old (Oma and Opa’s house is 400-ish years old). I have no doubt that the story of Beauty and the Beast (Belle et la Bête) is supposed to take place in Lozère. Being in such an old place is, ironically, incredibly rejuvenating. It must have to do with being so isolated in nature. Fun fact: Robert Louis Stevenson loved this region and wrote a lot about it. When in Lozère, it’s easy to understand how he must have been so inspired by all that was around.

1989.

A few posts ago I mentioned that I would be writing a post on 1989 and why it's the greatest year in modern history (and it's not because it's the year I was born).

Well, I did write a piece on it and I was planning on posting it on November 9 in honor of the 20th anniversary of the fall of the Berlin Wall. The older I get, and the more delightfully-yet-oh-so-painfully-intellectually stimulated I am in my Croft classes, I believe more and more that November 9, 1989 is the most important date in modern history; simply put: the fall of the Berlin Wall granted all Europeans access to democracy, and the economic integration that followed suit is completely unprecedented and contradicts the tendency of mankind to pursue self-interests, as is reflected in centuries of warfare in Europe. 1989 marks the greatest discontinuity in the lives of Europeans: it is the triumph of democracy in Europe and made successful European economic integration a realistic goal. Furthermore, the failure of communism in eastern Europe after 1989 was felt all around the world, especially by smaller communist states which so heavily depended upon the support, militarily and economically, of the USSR.

So now it's November 15th and I never published that post, the reason being that I was in the most rural region in France with my grandparents and had zero access to internet for three days (more on that later...). Honestly, it was very refreshing...I'll be the first to admit that I am on facebook way too much. However, now that it is no longer November 9th, I don't really feel like posting the piece I wrote for the 20th anniversary. But--I am going to leave you with two excerpts from one of the best articles I've ever read. These are taken from The Economist (Nov. 7th-13th) "So much gained, so much to lose." I cannot agree more with everything that was said in this article.

"The destruction of the Iron Curtain on November 9th 1989 is still the most remarkable political event of most people's lifetimes: it set free millions of individuals and it brought to an end a global conflict that threatened nuclear annihilation. For liberals in the West, it still stands as a reminder both of what has been won since and what is still worth fighting for....

...Recognising the political shortcomings of globalisation should redouble Western liberals' determination to defend it: to close the gap in the right way (referring to the gap between economic progress and political progress since 1989). That involves a myriad of things, from promoting human rights to designing better jobs policies. But it also requires defending the enormous benefits that capitalism has brought to the world since 1989 more forcefully than the West's leaders have done thus far. And above all perhaps, taking nothing forgranted."

I hope those excerpts moved you as much as they did me. It is true: we should take nothing for granted.

Ps- Y'all are probably wondering what this has to do with my "adventures in Europe"...being in Europe for the 20th anniversary has been special. It's been on the news the entire month, and it is neat being with Europeans for something so monumental in their history. AND...I am going to Germany next weekend and cannot wait!! So, I guess I've been thinking about the Berlin Wall a lot because of all that.

bon appétit

Lately, I’ve become obsessed with food. I’ve been reading The Omnivore’s Dilemma by Michael Pollan and haven’t been able to put it down. I also, and I think this is a result of watching the new movie about Julia Child and the fact that I am in France, have made it my ambition to expand my knowledge on cooking and the art of taste (my life goal: to be able to cook like my Dad, Mom, and Oma). Here is an excerpt from Omnivore’s Dilemma that I believe is so true:

(To give you some context, Pollan has been talking about Americans’ susceptibility to food trends and diets because there is no established food culture in America as in other countries. His thesis is that Americans have a sort of twisted relationship with food)

“We Americans are amazed to learn that some of the cultures that set their culinary course by the lights of habit and pleasure rather than nutritional science and marketing are actually healthier than we are—that is, suffer a lower incidence of diet-related health troubles.

The French paradox is the most famous such case, though as Paul Rozin points out, the French don’t regard the matter as paradoxical at all. We Americans resort to that term because the French experience—a population of wine-swilling cheese eaters with lower rates of heart disease and obesity—confounds our orthodoxy about food. That orthodoxy regards certain tasty foods as poisons (carbs now, fats then), failing to appreciate that how we eat, and even how we feel about eating, may in the end be just as important as what we eat. The French eat all sorts of supposedly unhealthy foods, but they do it according to a strict and stable set of rules: They eat small portions and don’t go back for seconds; they don’t snack; they seldom eat alone; and communal meals are long, leisurely affairs. In other words, the French culture of food successfully negotiates the omnivore’s dilemma, allowing the French to enjoy their meals without ruining their health.”

I’ve never heard a more accurate description of how French people eat. With my grandparents, it is pretty usual for Sunday lunch to start at noon and end at 4:30 or 5. I kept on thinking about that while I read that excerpt.

Three steps to the French "look"

1. Drop 15 pounds.

2. Wear lots of stripes (this will offset the 15 lbs. you just lost)

3. Skinny jeans (the reason you lost the 15 lbs).

Okay, but seriously. Here are some other tips:

4. Flats, Converse (low-tops), and Bensimon…basically the rule with shoes is that you can’t have anything with arch support.

5. Make-up: none.

6. Hair: au naturel. Lately I’ve seen a lot of bobbed hairstyles. It’s really cute with curly hair. I don’t know that I could ever pull it off, but a lot of girls here make it look fantastic.

What amazes me about French style is that even though they look like they just rolled out of bed (and, honestly, they probably did), they always manage to look amazingly chic…it’s a sort of “rugged-chic.” Maybe it’s the “yes, I’m better than you” attitude that often accessorizes their wardrobe that makes the French look so classy. I don’t know. I’m really trying to figure it out. They make it look so easy.

no "troubles" for me in northern ireland...

Mural in Belfast
Causeway Coast

Last week I rediscovered a truth I’ve known my entire life: Paris is the best city in the world. But, before I ramble on about how much I love that city (it is a thing I do really well…), let me ramble about my time in Ireland: It is true; the grass is greener on the other side of the channel and it is, without a doubt, due to the amount of rainfall it receives. Every single day was soaked in a sort of misty rain that I quickly learned is called wet rain. Wet rain…in comparison to what? Dry rain? I laughed when I first learned that this is how the Irish refer to that sort of rain, but they probably laughed at me when they saw me walking around with an umbrella. In Ireland, as I unpleasantly discovered, umbrellas are pointless because this “wet rain” often seems to be coming up from the ground. It sounds magical but I promise, it’s really just annoying.

Despite lacking appropriate attire for the weather, Ireland was wonderful. My first thought upon arriving in Dublin was “I wanna know where tha gooold at, give me tha gold, I want tha gold” (if you haven’t seen this video, please search “leprechaun in Mobile, Alabama” on YouTube immediately). After a few days in Dublin, I took a train to Coleraine in Northern Ireland to visit two friends who are studying abroad there. It was so good to spend a few days with friends. Together we visited Giant’s Causeway, Carrick-a-Rede Rope Bridge, and had fun going out in Portstewart at night. Irish people were a breath of fresh air after having been in France for almost two months, and maybe it is because I had been in France for two months that the Irish seemed SO incredibly nice. Those of you who have been to France probably know what I mean when I say that French people live in bubbles. Once you are in that bubble, they are the nicest people you’ve ever met, but until then, most French people seem distant and haughty (I should probably add here that not ALL French people are like this…I like to think that my grandparents are very welcoming to foreigners and my best friend Pauline is one of the nicest people I’ve ever met, from the moment we met). While I’m thinking of it, I hope my blog doesn’t sound mean or offensive…? I want to be honest about my experiences and so much of that involves the strangers I pass on the streets and the impressions I get from them. I like to think of this blog as a sort of cultural commentary.

This is getting long so I will quickly summarize the rest of Ireland. I went to Belfast and had so much fun, even though I was alone. It is incredible seeing the scars left on the city from the “troubles” that happened throughout the 20^th century. I went on a tour of the neighborhoods where most of the fighting was. Honestly, the buildings looked a lot like those one might find in the Mississippi delta…falling apart. It was so fascinating though, especially seeing the murals everywhere commemorating people who died in the fighting. It is strange being in a place where people my age have known and lived through such violence. It is so recent. A few fun facts about Belfast: it is the birthplace of C.S. Lewis (I love him) AND the Titanic, and, lastly, when the city decided to create a hockey team, they almost named the team the Belfast Bombers. This was rejected, however, and today they are the Belfast Giants.

A friend forwarded me an email called “The American’s Guide to France” and, within it, I found many laughs. Earlier when I wrote about French people being distant, I was reminded of the email. Here is an excerpt; I hope it makes you laugh like I did:

France has a population of 57 million people. 52 million of these drink and smoke (the other 5 million are small children). All French people drive like lunatics, are dangerously over sexed, and have no concept of standing patiently in line. The French people are in general gloomy, temperamental, proud, arrogant, aloof, and undisciplined; those are their good points. Most French citizens are Roman Catholic, though you would hardly guess it from their behavior. Many people are communists.

Haha. That excerpt is from the part entitled “The People.” Here is an excerpt from “Economy”:

France has a large and diversified economy, second only to Germany’s in Europe, which is surprising because the French hardly work at all. If they are not spending four hours dawdling over lunch, they are on strike and blocking the roads with their trucks and tractors.

France’s principal exports, in order of importance to the economy, are wine, nuclear weapons, perfume, guided missiles, champagne, guns, grenade launchers, land mines, tanks, attack aircraft, miscellaneous armaments, and cheese.

But, my favorite is “Conclusion”:

At least it’s not Germany!!

Well, I think I’ve reached the limit on this blog. I will write about Paris very soon though, not because you want to read about it, but because I love talking about that city. Ooh la la, Paris j’adore!