Chez...

famille :-)

another one of those words that doesn't have a good translation~ To be "chez soi" is to be at home in terms of all of the intangibles in life.  Many a frenchman uses the phrase, "chez moi est chez toi" in the same way that we use "mi casa es tu casa" in the U.S., and yet to go to the doctor is to go "chez le médecin."  To say "what I like about her," the French use "ce que j'aime chez elle."  Thus, just as France is becoming more and more "chez moi" in more ways than one, it is fitting that I begin to visit French friends and to go forth more confidently than before, rediscovering the things that I love in life (in particular, cooking and baking) along the way.  This is how I came to organize a birthday party of sorts for my American friend, Julia, to spend the weekend "chez Estelle" with Katie (my American friend who is in many ways originally from Cameroon), and to have a crêpe party with French friends Mathilde, Flora, Paul, and Aurore, and an adorable Chilian/American couple (Pato and Hannah).

Julia, the birthday girl!

     Poor Julia had been entirely too stressed out the week before her birthday with a "commentaire composé," a long paper that essentially serves as a synthesis and analysis of several documents.  As simple as that may sound, like all assignments in France, there were many, many very particular requirements that thus put Julia completely out of her comfort zone of "write the way that you want to...within reason" (which I would say is more or less the dogma of American universities).  We thus cancelled the majority of our birthday plans, but we managed to hold on to the plan to eat dinner at a pizzeria, complete with sparklers in her dessert, a candle for her to blow out, and gifts.  I unfortunately had to leave early to meet up with my little sister, Alix and her mom and the cinema (yes, to watch Harry Potter...in French this time), but from what I hear, Julia left much happier than when she arrived.  My planning for Julia's birthday reminded me that it is not, in fact only the intangibles that help me feel "chez moi," but it is also my agency in any given situation.  What better way to show that one is at home than for him or her to welcome, give to, help another?  I therefore could not have been more thankful that Julia was born on November 26th.

la neige- "snow" outside the train window

macaroni and cheese..looney recipe!

Estelle et Katie à Vitré

     Saturday (the next day) began beautifully...with snow.  Apparently such a phenomenon is rare in November here (although it happened last year as well), but I have spent the last week attempting to explain that it is even rarer in South Carolina...as in it never happens.  Katie, who is from Chicago, laughed at and with my childlike exaltation at the beauty of it all.  The frosty French countryside flew by as we took the train from Rennes to Vitré, the small medieval town where Estelle lives.  There we played a bit in the snow, visited the castle and the market, Christmas shopped for Katie's family friends, and of course, went to Estelle's house.  Her house is the epitome of "chez soi."  The walls in the entryway are a warm golden yellow, and they immediately drew us into the beautiful living room, welcoming kitchen, and Estelle's simply pretty bedroom upstairs.  Her parents were equally welcoming, and we spent several hours eating a carefully prepared 3 course meal made by her mother, who then gave us the liberty to take over the kitchen for the afternoon.  One pumpkin pie and macaroni and cheese later, we snuggled up together to watch the movie, A Good Year (Une Bonne Année).  Chez Estelle, I found family in France in a way that is not possible with a host family where I am somewhere between the age of the daughters and the parents.  Beautiful.

Pumpkin pie...made with a real pumpkin!!!

crêpe party!

    Finally, the next weekend, I went Chez Mathilde to make crêpes; it was an evening filled with rich food and conversation... about cultural differences between France, the U.S., and Chili, about languages, and a few jokes here and there about pageants, since we had "Miss France" on in the background the entire time.  At the bittersweet end of the evening, I said my goodbyes, knowing that I likely would not see these friends again before I leave. We couldn't help but smile, however.  After all, Miss Bretagne won the pageant... Here, in all of its silly imperfection, is friendship.


Giving, baking, loving... reveling in the joy of time with family and friends, it is good to be able to say that in Rennes, I am legitimately "chez moi."

la reconnaissance

Thankfulness~ Yes, it was a bit strange to be away from the United States on the purely American holiday of Thanksgiving.  I couldn't believe that I had four classes that were not cancelled for the day and that there were no mashed potatoes at our Thanksgiving dinner (prepared by a French restaurant).  But it was also a moment to recognize all of the things that I am thankful for here in France (in no particular order)...

definitely not my family's thanksgiving dinner, but there are a lot of other things to be thankful for...

1) a beautiful language that I slowly but surely am beginning to master
2) a group of friends of many nationalities, including my church in Rennes, who support me and give me the opportunity to support them
3) snow...yes, it snowed a bit ON THANKSGIVING!!!
4) the directors of our program who answer at least two of my questions every day and who decorated their office for Thanksgiving, periodically provide us with Reese's cups that seem to materialize out of thin air, and are there if we need to laugh or cry or just say "bonjour" to someone familiar
5) my family who has helped me enormously before and during my time in France, has taken care of some of the important logistics in the U.S. regarding next semester in Africa, and who did the best they could to make me part of their festivities by showing me their mashed potatoes via skype
6) my host family, who has given me a roof, a taste of french food and family life, and the opportunity to read lots and lots of children's books

completed human body

7) the eccentric frenchman who sat next to me at our Thanksgiving dinner and contented himself by showing me pictures and business cards of everyone in his life, including his nephew (who I'm pretty sure he wants me to go on a date with)
8) chocolate...and French food in general
9) my human body magnets (collected from boxes of French cookies..and completed on Thanksgiving)
10) my salsa class..taught in French
11) the professors of CIREFE (the part of the university here for international students), who are ridiculously patient with our errors and sometimes feeble attempts to speak their native language
12) the familiarity of Thanksgiving day, even in a foreign country
13) the unknown

des moldus dans un monde magique

Muggles in a magical world~

WARNING: many Harry Potter references and possible movie spoilers in this entry…

Mais oui, I am in love with France and French.  However, please allow me a momentary digression (just as I allowed myself one) into the world of owls that deliver mail, broomsticks that fly, and a language that sounds a bit like my native tongue but that is at times more difficult to understand than French.  With that, we arrive at my weekend in London, specifically to see the newly released Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, more generally to experience the city.

Christmas already...

            First impression: London prepares early for Christmas, and the Tube is particularly difficult to navigate, especially compared to our two way, one track métro in Rennes.  Sometimes first impressions are correct. London already was decorated (this was the 19^th of November), Christmas lights illuminating the streets at night, and Christmas trees gracing nearly every restaurant and coffee shop with their presence.  Next to the Tower of London (quite the entertaining, if rather gruesome, site to visit with a beefeater as a guide), we found a man selling roasted nuts…and a Starbucks that was already offering its seasonal Christmas drinks.  The Tube, however was one of the more annoying yet funnier parts of the weekend.  The first morning, full of big ideas, we stepped onto a train with the best-laid plans.  Wondering why we stopped for so long at the first station we came to, we considered getting off but then decided that we were just used to the French metro, which must be more efficient.  Little did we know that London is doing construction on several lines, thus the rest of that particular one was closed.  You guessed it:  our train took us right back to where we started.  We were more careful from then on, but the closures meant the crowds were at times horrendous.  We waited through about 5 trains at Picadilly Circus (the theatre district) just to squeeze on one before going to the musical, Oliver (much better with a real British accent than an imitated one).  The last morning, full from the lovely breakfast of eggs, sausage, tomatoes, potatoes, tea, toast, jam, and cheese provided by our hotel, we took a turn around the London eye, regretfully viewing all of the sites that we had not had enough time to visit.  I have a feeling we will both make it back there someday.

HARRY POTTER!!!

            To conclude with that which governed our weekend, Katie (my fellow fan and trip companion) and I began our journey into Harry’s world on the airport shuttle, which was of course the Knight Bus taking us to Diagon Alley.  Arriving at a proper looking neighborhood with particularly well-manicured lawns still relatively far from London proper, we realized that we were “on Privet Drive,” and there kept an eye out for Harry around every corner.   We saw an illustration of a phoenix that bore a strong resemblance to Fawkes and finished with a stop at platform 9 ¾ .  We did all of that without forgetting to take an emotional ride through the first half of J.K. Rowling’s final novel.   It is now my favorite of the Harry Potter movies, being more authentic to the novel and the real world than the others and including the mature acting of the well-seasoned trio, Harry, Ron and Hermione.  However, after sobbing at the death of Moody, Ron’s abandonment of Harry and Hermione, and the death of Dobby, we were very ready for some Ben and Jerry’s ice cream, conveniently sold inside the theatre itself.

            At the end of the weekend, we were ready to be back “chez nous,” even though we only had had a taste of London.  Stepping off the airplane in Paris, we looked at each other and exclaimed: “Le français?!!!”  Back to the wonderful and magical world of immersion…