May I just say this for the record, I hate jet-lag. I had a preconceived notion that, because I am younger, I would have minimal, if no jet-lag. That has not been the case. I went to sleep at around 2AM yesterday morning and woke up, without an alarm, at 7AM. I am the person who ALWAYS sleeps in. Always. With this in mind, I hauled myself out of bed when I heard the front door open, meaning that my host mom had just returned from dropping her son off at school. I pulled on many layers, and made my way out into the kitchen and dining room.
"You're up early," she said, a little startled.
I explained my strange sleeping pattern of the night while she made me tea and toast. I will never feel comfortable with someone waiting on me all of the time, so we had an interesting conversation about this custom. I explained that in the US, people are particularly independent and they like it that way. A good hostess shows her guests every part of her house, maybe fetches them a glass of something, but then shows the guest which cabinets hold useful things, and remarks "help yourself." As a guest, we do not like to bother the hostess and we feel obligated to help her with cooking or cleaning that is centered around a meal.
My host mom explained to me that she felt awkward also, because at least the helping aspect is common in Australia, so she also found it strange. While meeting her husband's mother for the first time, she had an epiphany. She realized that she was in the way while trying to help her with the cooking, and that she was almost insulting her. Apparently, the hostess (or host) here feels as though taking care of their guests is an important duty, and if one tries to help oneself, the hostess understands that she is not doing her job effectively.
This is a completely new concept for me, because I had never thought of it that way. People in the US, generally, see entertaining as, I'll help you, but I'm not your waitress nor your mother. I feel a little more comfortable now, but since I'm settling in, my host mom jokingly told me that the waiting won't last :) I am relieved.
Over tea and cheese, we spoke about several cultural differences, philosophical life and death subjects, and some of our backgrounds. She said that she wants to take me to the beach soon, because it is just beautiful. I laughed and told her that I couldn't imagine standing on a beach when it is below freezing. She smiled and says that she often SWIMS during the winter.
She said when she was filming a movie, they needed a very serene shot of her in the water with her hair floating in the waves, and ever since then, she likes to take a short plunge in order to have that shock of experience. The feeling she was describing, I could only really relate to sitting in a deer stand in the early morning, when it is well below freezing, the wind is blowing, being up in the air, and not moving. The cold is almost unbearable, but the empowerment and patience is an exhilarating feeling, especially when one is rewarded with seeing an animal.
She was fascinated by the concept of hunting, and the respect that we carry for the animals and rifles. Many people have misconceptions about hunters and that we just like to shoot shit and have trophies and blah, blah, blah, but it is so much more than that. Waiting, watching, gaging, understanding, respecting all that is centered around what it takes.
I explained that once a shot is fired, one must wait a few minutes to make sure the animal does not get up and to make sure that nothing else comes out. I explained a four-wheeler and how we get the animal back to the camp, the hanging, the skinning, the gutting, and the cleaning. She appreciated the realness of it, and commented that she likes when people understand from where there meat comes, and how it ends up on our plates. We also talked about bull fighting and rodeo events, it was nice.
Later, we got dressed and drove to the open market. It was SO cold, many of the shopkeepers were already closing up, but she bought some very "stinky" cheese made from sheep's milk. She said she almost vomited the first time she ate it, but it grew on her and now she loves it. We also bought some sweet, hard type of biscuits and met up with her husband in a café. We sat and ordered. I ordered a coffee, but didn't realize that a coffee in colloquial terms means an espresso. One must specifically order an American coffee. Oops.
He brought them over, and she asked if I wanted milk, and I nodded with very large eyes. (I've never had an espresso.) Apparently, if you are ever in a French café and want an espresso with milk, order un noisette. Which literally means a hazelnut. Little tip for any one going to France in the future. We sat and drank, a friend of theirs came and sat with us, I tried to keep up, but language parts of the brain don't like to work with jet-lag. After a while, their friend asked if her Aussie accent was difficult for me to understand, and I said no.
That opened a huge can of worms. My host mom is very gifted in accents and she began chattering away in a Scottish accent, then British, then South African, and Southern United States. She asked if she was doing that one correctly, and I laughed and imitated her back with an even thinker one, using y'all. Everyone burst into laughter and asked about the different American accents, so I began speaking and switching between New England, Chicago, L.A., and Deep South. It was fun to interact with and entertain them. She then asked me if I wanted crepes. OUI!
We walked back outside to a cart and looked at the menu. They were out of crepes, but they still had galettes. Galettes are made in the same way as crepes, but with buckwheat flour. Crepes are for sweet fillings and galettes are for cheese, eggs, ham, non-sweets, basically. I ordered one with egg and cheese. It was delicious, but trying to eat it was a nightmare! We took them back to the cafe and unfolded the foil.
Problem? No forks, and they were folded in a very difficult, flimsy way. I stared at it for about five minutes trying to figure out how to eat this amazing thing. I tore a piece to start, but part of the egg was still runny and dripping, so I folded it up in a napkin and ate about half, before it completely fell to pieces. Galette-eating fail. Regardless of the pain it was to eat, it was delicious, a bit like crawfish.
After we finished eating, my host mom and I went to a store called Fnac. It is a books, movies, and electronics store to find a cable for my camera. After looking around, we found a good substitute and a cheap book that she said helped her learn French a bit better when she moved here.
When I checked out, the cashier prattled off a normal greeting and question, that I am sure is similar to "Did you find everything ok?" We take those compulsory phrases for granted, but when you are not familiar with the language, you just have to smile and nod, praying that you didn't just insult someone.
We returned to the house after that, and I read and skyped with my man. At about 17:30, I was slapped with sleepiness and crawled into bed fully clothed and with blush and mascara still on my face. A bit later, my host dad knocked on my door, informing me that we needed to leave soon. Merde! I had forgotten about the meet and greet dinner that was last night, so I climbed out of bed, feeling very sick all of a sudden, and got dressed.
Upon arrival, everyone was dressed nicely, and I was in tennis shoes and minimal make-up. I forgot, this is France. Oops again. I talked with some of the other students and ate a tiny piece of quiche. Feeling feverish and being very cold, I didn't say too much until later, when I began to warm up.
Toward the end, they had King's Cake. (It is very common among Catholics, as it is a tradition surrounding Mardi Gras and the epiphany). A tiny figure or token is baked into an almond-based cake and whoever finds the token, is the king! Guess who found one of them? My host brother. He is hilarious and talkative, and the crown just added to it.
We returned at about 22:00 and I skyped with the man and the roomie for a while. I was asked to go out to like 3 or 4 bars last night and felt old when I turned them down. I admit, I would like to go out later when I am not jet-lagged and feel like scum, but majority of the American students are either younger than me or they are in a different place in their lives. I got the impression that most of them came here to party. I didn't :)
Anyway, I slept much better and actually slept a full eight hours. YAY! Today my host dad is taking me and his son to a local concert and to get my Twisto card (for the tramway).
A tout a l'heure!
"You're up early," she said, a little startled.
I explained my strange sleeping pattern of the night while she made me tea and toast. I will never feel comfortable with someone waiting on me all of the time, so we had an interesting conversation about this custom. I explained that in the US, people are particularly independent and they like it that way. A good hostess shows her guests every part of her house, maybe fetches them a glass of something, but then shows the guest which cabinets hold useful things, and remarks "help yourself." As a guest, we do not like to bother the hostess and we feel obligated to help her with cooking or cleaning that is centered around a meal.
My host mom explained to me that she felt awkward also, because at least the helping aspect is common in Australia, so she also found it strange. While meeting her husband's mother for the first time, she had an epiphany. She realized that she was in the way while trying to help her with the cooking, and that she was almost insulting her. Apparently, the hostess (or host) here feels as though taking care of their guests is an important duty, and if one tries to help oneself, the hostess understands that she is not doing her job effectively.
This is a completely new concept for me, because I had never thought of it that way. People in the US, generally, see entertaining as, I'll help you, but I'm not your waitress nor your mother. I feel a little more comfortable now, but since I'm settling in, my host mom jokingly told me that the waiting won't last :) I am relieved.
Over tea and cheese, we spoke about several cultural differences, philosophical life and death subjects, and some of our backgrounds. She said that she wants to take me to the beach soon, because it is just beautiful. I laughed and told her that I couldn't imagine standing on a beach when it is below freezing. She smiled and says that she often SWIMS during the winter.
She said when she was filming a movie, they needed a very serene shot of her in the water with her hair floating in the waves, and ever since then, she likes to take a short plunge in order to have that shock of experience. The feeling she was describing, I could only really relate to sitting in a deer stand in the early morning, when it is well below freezing, the wind is blowing, being up in the air, and not moving. The cold is almost unbearable, but the empowerment and patience is an exhilarating feeling, especially when one is rewarded with seeing an animal.
She was fascinated by the concept of hunting, and the respect that we carry for the animals and rifles. Many people have misconceptions about hunters and that we just like to shoot shit and have trophies and blah, blah, blah, but it is so much more than that. Waiting, watching, gaging, understanding, respecting all that is centered around what it takes.
I explained that once a shot is fired, one must wait a few minutes to make sure the animal does not get up and to make sure that nothing else comes out. I explained a four-wheeler and how we get the animal back to the camp, the hanging, the skinning, the gutting, and the cleaning. She appreciated the realness of it, and commented that she likes when people understand from where there meat comes, and how it ends up on our plates. We also talked about bull fighting and rodeo events, it was nice.
Later, we got dressed and drove to the open market. It was SO cold, many of the shopkeepers were already closing up, but she bought some very "stinky" cheese made from sheep's milk. She said she almost vomited the first time she ate it, but it grew on her and now she loves it. We also bought some sweet, hard type of biscuits and met up with her husband in a café. We sat and ordered. I ordered a coffee, but didn't realize that a coffee in colloquial terms means an espresso. One must specifically order an American coffee. Oops.
He brought them over, and she asked if I wanted milk, and I nodded with very large eyes. (I've never had an espresso.) Apparently, if you are ever in a French café and want an espresso with milk, order un noisette. Which literally means a hazelnut. Little tip for any one going to France in the future. We sat and drank, a friend of theirs came and sat with us, I tried to keep up, but language parts of the brain don't like to work with jet-lag. After a while, their friend asked if her Aussie accent was difficult for me to understand, and I said no.
That opened a huge can of worms. My host mom is very gifted in accents and she began chattering away in a Scottish accent, then British, then South African, and Southern United States. She asked if she was doing that one correctly, and I laughed and imitated her back with an even thinker one, using y'all. Everyone burst into laughter and asked about the different American accents, so I began speaking and switching between New England, Chicago, L.A., and Deep South. It was fun to interact with and entertain them. She then asked me if I wanted crepes. OUI!
We walked back outside to a cart and looked at the menu. They were out of crepes, but they still had galettes. Galettes are made in the same way as crepes, but with buckwheat flour. Crepes are for sweet fillings and galettes are for cheese, eggs, ham, non-sweets, basically. I ordered one with egg and cheese. It was delicious, but trying to eat it was a nightmare! We took them back to the cafe and unfolded the foil.
Problem? No forks, and they were folded in a very difficult, flimsy way. I stared at it for about five minutes trying to figure out how to eat this amazing thing. I tore a piece to start, but part of the egg was still runny and dripping, so I folded it up in a napkin and ate about half, before it completely fell to pieces. Galette-eating fail. Regardless of the pain it was to eat, it was delicious, a bit like crawfish.
After we finished eating, my host mom and I went to a store called Fnac. It is a books, movies, and electronics store to find a cable for my camera. After looking around, we found a good substitute and a cheap book that she said helped her learn French a bit better when she moved here.
When I checked out, the cashier prattled off a normal greeting and question, that I am sure is similar to "Did you find everything ok?" We take those compulsory phrases for granted, but when you are not familiar with the language, you just have to smile and nod, praying that you didn't just insult someone.
We returned to the house after that, and I read and skyped with my man. At about 17:30, I was slapped with sleepiness and crawled into bed fully clothed and with blush and mascara still on my face. A bit later, my host dad knocked on my door, informing me that we needed to leave soon. Merde! I had forgotten about the meet and greet dinner that was last night, so I climbed out of bed, feeling very sick all of a sudden, and got dressed.
Upon arrival, everyone was dressed nicely, and I was in tennis shoes and minimal make-up. I forgot, this is France. Oops again. I talked with some of the other students and ate a tiny piece of quiche. Feeling feverish and being very cold, I didn't say too much until later, when I began to warm up.
Toward the end, they had King's Cake. (It is very common among Catholics, as it is a tradition surrounding Mardi Gras and the epiphany). A tiny figure or token is baked into an almond-based cake and whoever finds the token, is the king! Guess who found one of them? My host brother. He is hilarious and talkative, and the crown just added to it.
We returned at about 22:00 and I skyped with the man and the roomie for a while. I was asked to go out to like 3 or 4 bars last night and felt old when I turned them down. I admit, I would like to go out later when I am not jet-lagged and feel like scum, but majority of the American students are either younger than me or they are in a different place in their lives. I got the impression that most of them came here to party. I didn't :)
Anyway, I slept much better and actually slept a full eight hours. YAY! Today my host dad is taking me and his son to a local concert and to get my Twisto card (for the tramway).
A tout a l'heure!
I enjoyed Skyping with you. And yes, I need to try galettes. I cannot imagine you under dressed for anything! You are always so chic and adorable. I hope you are not getting sick.
ReplyDeleteI'm sure you'll find some friends at school who aren't big into partying and would prefer to explore the beauty of France with you. Maybe they'll take a quiet tram to another city and you'll go to cafes and drink wine with you.
Shad is doing very well icing his ankle and wrapping it. I cannot believe he broke himself within a week of you leaving. And we promised to take care of him. :(
AAAAaaahhh! Galettes sound like more trouble then they are worth, but for the sake of trying a new food, I guess I'll go for one when I finally come to France. The King's Cake tradition sounds hilarious, I WANNA PLAY!!! I would totally make the game super easy (or super hard depending on the crowd) and make a bunt cake and put the almond in the center. It would be really funny to explain the game to my brothers and then bring out the cake and have them all jump for the almond, destroy the cake, and annihilate anything that was underneath.
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