Monday, December 2, 2013

Frenchgiving

The gang's ALL here.

Cutting the turkey. (My host Mom in black.)

Our spread. (French style.)

Me and Pascal. (She's one of the Moms and a total doll.)

I am standing in the kitchen struggling to mix together sugar and butter (that I forgot to soften) with a spatula, as my host Mom is scientifically measuring out the perfect amount of ingredients for her macarons. I look up in time to see her throw her head back in laughter and say, “Megan if you wash your hands, you can use your hands.” After feeling stupid for a moment I look down at the bowl and dig my hands into the mixture.

This past weekend, I made Thanksgiving dinner for my family and some of their friends (26 friends to be exact). I did a lot of prep work and prepared some easier recipes ahead of time, like good ole green been casserole, hoping it wouldn’t be too fattening and simple for my French guests. One thing I really love about France is their cuisine. It did take me some time to get adjusted to it, but now I really enjoy it. (Let me remind you that this is my experience with my family, and other people in France may be different.) In general, French people like everything to be fresh and made from scratch. They also enjoy the natural flavors of food (instead of drowning them in sauce) which really shows in their meals. One day I saw my host Mom make a chicken with potatoes and all she put on it was olive oil and salt and pepper, and it was amazing! I think this is definitely a cleanse for my taste palette that I am hoping will have a lasting impression. They do have grocery stores like we do, but they also have separate stores: one just for cheese (omg the cheese; I could do an entire post just about the cheese), one just for meat, one just for fruits and vegetables, and one for bread of course. Also, the French people rarely eat out so they go to these markets very often. The things I like about this system are for for one, that you’re eating healthier, you’re save money, you’re supporting local business, and you are able to have a personal relationship with the people that work there. (Also you can literally say “I have a cheese guy.” or “No man, MY cheese guy has the best cheese.”) It pays off to have these kind of relationships. For example, my host Mom called her butcher to ask for a turkey (getting a turkey at the end of November here is unheard of apparently because the Turkeys aren’t ready to kill yet),  and instead of telling her he didn’t have one he called to a bunch of different places and found her one. I love everything about that. 

Often times throughout this experience I feel like I care too much about what my host family and other people think of me. I think a lot of it has to do with the fact that I am in a completely different country and culture, which is obviously going to make me stand out among other people living in a small French town. But recently I feel like (although easier said than done) I need to dig into this experience and not be afraid to get “my hands dirty” and quit holding back so much. I leave you with a JFK quote as it was recently the 50th anniversary of his assassination.
“Change is the law of life. And those who look only to the past or present are certain to miss the future.”

John F. Kennedy

À Bientôt!

Friday, November 15, 2013

La Vie en Rose

Weekend trip to Paris

Valence (Where I really hang out.)

Bourg de Péage and Monster #1 (Where I live.)
My French cat friend. (Obviously.)

Well it’s been almost one year to the day since my last post. Sorry for this, but I got caught up in a whirlwind of wonderful literature in order to finish my degree. Somewhere in between Jane Austen and drunkenly gazing at a meteor shower under the Arkansas sky, I decided to move to France. Right now I find myself working as an au pair in a small town in southern France, slowly improving my French and trying to enjoy each moment before I have to start thinking about what I want to do next. After being here for two months I would love to say that the transition has been easy and perfect, but that is not the case. I take care of two boys ages 3 and 7 who don’t speak any English (also whom I respectfully call my little French monsters). Contrary to popular belief, French children are not better behaved than American children. Kids are kids; they are the same everywhere. Although the first couple of weeks were pretty tough, I am getting along much better with the children, my French has improved immensely, and I have made friends with other au pairs and some native inhabitants of France.

I think the most interesting thing about visiting or moving to a different country is the array of little cultural differences that sometimes take you by surprise. Although France is very much a westernized country, it does have its own way of doing things, and I find that I quite enjoy their way of life. The very first thing that I had to master was the “double kiss on the cheek” greeting. (Yes, that is a real things here. Handshakes are met with a confused stare and 5 seconds of awkward silence.) Also, depending on where you are located in France, there are a different number of kisses. In my region there are three, most places there are two, and in Bretagne and some others, it can be four! At first I wasn’t sure if you just greet your good friends like this, but I quickly learned that you must greet everyone in this way. There is also the problem of wearing glasses and having them hit the other person's face, or worse when both people have glasses...by the end, you're just glad your glasses are still intact. On behalf of the French people, I have to say the rumor about them being rude is completely false. Everyone has been extremely nice to me - even the rudest of the rude, Parisians. From my experience, I think they get this bad rap because they are so straight-forward. I personally tend to get my feelings hurt when people are direct with me, but I am learning to get past it. French people say what they feel, even if it may come off a bit harsh, and then it's done and they move on. They will never 'beat around the bush' like we people of the states do. It’s definitely a challenge, but I also find it very refreshing.

Since my visit to Paris, I have had a famous French song stuck in my head called “La Vie en Rose” which literally translates to “the life in pink.” It is a very romantic song, and although I am not in love, yet (cross your fingers for a handsome 30-something French business man with a vacation house in Italy), I feel that I am seeing my life through a pink lens here. For the first time in a long time, I am enjoying each beautiful moment and not worrying about what is coming next. I hope this post finds you all in a good state of mind.

“Quand il me prend dans ses bras il me parle tout bas je vois le vie en rose.”

Edith Pilaf

À bientôt!