There’s a formality to the language which actually makes the inter-connectedness stronger. It allows you distance and respect for strangers. And, in contrast, people absolutely gush with kisses and sweet words when they see (presumably) an old friend. I’ve seen ladies practically fall over their shopping carts in their zeal to kiss each others' cheeks. It's an affirmation of love that you just so rarely see (or experience) chez nous. Seeing a young, stressed out looking mom, for example, run excitedly into the arms of lady on the street who appears to be her tired old aunty or something, it seems to bring them both a much needed source of connection and appreciation and energy. At home, you'd only see such lavish affection if people hadn't seen each other in ages or they finally laid eyes on a person who'd gone mysteriously missing. But, I see this enthsiastic cheek kissing and embrassing and talking in high pitches about once a day, so it leads me to believe it's pretty common. It's really a great idea. Goodness knows, there are times when I find myself going through my day in Redmond, from minivan to store, to activity and back to minivan, not really connecting with anyone and feeling, yes, that's it, mysteriously missing.
Another great idea: the word “au revoir” best translated as “until next time”…I say it and it's said to me about 20 times a day. And when people say it, it make an invisible line between them, expecting or at least leaving an open possibility of seeing each other again. "Until next time"...Isn't it a great way to part with someone? Good bye, in contrast, doesn’t make any lines with the person. It’s a hard break.
Another great thing about the French people that I'm observing: they meet up to chat. The locals fill the terrasses down the street from here, even on chilly days, they'll sit there bundled up. They are all ages and they seem to have come for a primary purpose. To talk, to connect, for hours. They may be taking a coffee or a drink or even eating, but if that were their sole purpose, they would be gone in an hour at the most, but they linger for hours there sometimes….just talking, often with such passion and purpose that you can be sure that that conversation involves some life changing, world transforming discourse. Or, other times it looks like a person sharing his pain with a caring friend, or two lovers fulfilling what must be a universal longing to be deeply known by someone else, the way God knows you (though of course, you don't need to meet up with God on a terasse). But for we mere mortals to stay connected we need to meet up, and here they do it alot, those terrasses are full. I think our world back home is too hurried for it. They all have two hour lunches where everything but restaurants is closed. If no other time, at least everyone has those two hours in a day to sit on a terasse and talk. Actually, the French are famous for their leisure time, and I can understand why they like it so much.
There's a nature walk in a few weeks where the guide leads people through a forest, picking up edible plants and then everyone comes back and prepares a lunch and eats together. Another upcoming event is a walk through the forest with some musicians from the local music school, violins and acordians from what I gather, and everyone just sort of marches along through paths to the music. Now that sounds like something I must do. It's on a Thursday morning, so I might take the girls out of school to do it. But then again, it's not really done like that here, so I better not rock the boat too much.
Anyway, come to think of it, the girls do get enough amazing opportunities and outings at school; it really shows the priority on public education that the french seem to have. Annika's class goes swimming every Thursday...there are 22 kids, 1 classroom teacher in the pool, 1 on the deck and two swimming teachers who give them a 30 minute lesson. They also went to the music school down the street last week, and were given a music lesson, recreating, with various instruments and movement, a story about a fish (that's all I could really understand from what Annika told me about it). Today, they are going to the cinema across the street from school to see a locally made animation film.
She really misses her friends and teachers at Living Hope, but she loves all her new friends too (it doesn't seem to matter to her too much that they have only a few words between them that they mutually understand--so far that is; she is catching on to French words quickly though) Some situations scare her though (especially lunch hour, aka lunch two hours) because she doesn't understand, and she can only cry to express herself, and this has happened 2 or 3 times so far, but the teachers are very sweet with her, and she gets on to the next thing quickly, but she is definitely in an adjustment period. And I now always pick her up and take her home or out for lunch.
School lunch is superb...for 2,50 Euro, they get an entree of salad or cheese, a main course of delicious meat and vegetable and dessert of usually fruit or yogurt or both. Lauren loves it.
Lauren's class walks once a week to the sports complex where they play gym and court sports, and they're soon going to do a kayaking session. As well, they're working on a musical production (Lauren is too late to get a part, so she is just watching, and hopefully they'll find a job for her to do like help with wardrobe or props or something), and the whole school will sing some songs for a regional choral festival to take place in June. It's truly fantastic.
Annika and her classmates lay on mats and listen to soothing classical music for 20 minutes everyday after lunch. Her teacher seems rather Waldorf-y, into creating warmth and equilibrium, physically and spiritually. Rudolf Steiner did say that his methods would be more necessary as the society became more high tech and hurried. But this society seems to have kept the slower pace and rhythm that Steiner was trying to preserve from the 1940s. (that word always causes me to stumble, often to the point that I'm fruitlessly looking in the dictionary and getting frustrated...because how can you look up a word if you don't know how to spell it..., but when I came upon it just now, I told myself to be confident and focus and out it came, easy as that...rhythm.)
Oh, and I didn't even get to the trottoirs yet. They are sidewalks. Well, believe it or not, they are a telling feature of french culture, but let me take some photos later when I pick up the girls, and then you can see for yourself. For now, I'll just add some photos and end this long blog. I love you and miss you all,
C
This is the hill we walk to get to school.
This is the bakery at the bottom of the hill...sometimes girls who don't complain about walking get to have a treat from here.
This cat is often in the window, and Annika likes to look for him everyday...le chat gris. She was delighted that today he was outside.
Here are a couple more photos of our little motor boat ride on the weekend.
Another houseboat going to Lehon, the next village down river from us.
The abby in Lehon.
Okay, that's all for now. Remind me next time to tell you about the sidewalks, and how life here is like a children's story book.
Kevin is at a meeting in Bordeaux today, but he gets back tomorrow and Wednesday, we're going to Mont St. Michel if the sun is shining, to the Canadian War memorial museum if it's not shining. My grandfather, who is still alive at 94 years old, fought with the Canadian forces right there. His battalion arrived on Juno beach (about 65 km from here) the day after D-Day in June of 1944 when France was still occupied by the Germans and the nazi forces were gaining ground all over Europe. He got injured in the morning (shot in the leg) of August 15, 1944 near Falaise in "Operation Intractable". After a many painful hours and infection setting in, they finally were able to safely get him transported back to a hospital in England. He walks with one boot with a 2 inch heal to this day due to bone loss that he incurred here so many years ago from the bullet and the infection. But he survived and obviously had a long and wonderful life as well. I've very excited to see this museum.
A la prochain et au revoir.
