le patrimoine

Parliament...

patrimony/inheritance~ It is perhaps a bit bizarre to begin an entry about cultural patrimony with talk of internationalism, but on the other hand, a country's people-- all of them-- define the cultural baggage that the society as a whole will carry. In fact, the life of an international student is "hyper-cool."  I have learned more about China, Colombia, Japan, Mexico, and Russia here in France than I ever have in the United States.  Yes, classes have begun in full, supplemented by a bit of Rock 'n Roll dance with a Chinese friend here, a tennis class with a Polish friend there, and some Salsa with the typical slightly strange but very fun personalities that attend beginner latin dance classes.  Sometimes I begin again my classic vendetta to fend off "foreigners" and meet only "real French people," and then I realize that I'm being quite the stereotypical American, but instead of believing the United States is the center of the universe, my center is France.  The cultural enrichment in Rennes, which turns out to be quite the international city, is at my fingertips, and I can learn much more than French language in my classes and outside of them.

Mali exhibit in Rennes..my cultural patrimony indeed!

      My weekend was a perfect example of the balance I am working to find- it was the "weekend du patrimoine," two days when, throughout France, museum entry is free, and buildings that are usually closed to the public open their doors.  Of course, I discovered the wonders of Rennes's history and culture with my classy new Colombian friend, Maria, and her German friend who was visiting for the day.  From the Prefecture (an old welcoming building for government officials), to l'opera (for a concert by the Brittany orchestra), to les champs libres (a people's museum, currently hosting an exhibit on women in Mali), the day could not have been more perfect.  And Maria, who is one of the most perceptive people I have ever met--and quite the artist--shared with me that our "Statue of Liberty" is not actually a commonly accepted symbol of liberty in France and that September 11th was already in the history books regarding U.S./Chile relations long before "9/11."  Our day progressed from architecture to photography to music, which, as the woman who gave the introduction at l'Opera gently reminded us, is a sign that "patrimony" is not purely static and historical.  This tidbit propelled us to search out some culinary patrimony afterwards.
     People say that the pizza in Italy is the best in the world, but I have trouble believing that anything could be better than the "four seasons" pizza from Saturday, symbolic of the weather every day in Rennes, and infused with the flavors of real cheese, artichoke, ham, olives, and tomatoes.  A bit of red wine, an aperitif, mozzarella and tomato salad, and "fondant au chocolat" finished off our masterpiece of a day.

Perfection

     But again I am forever seeking balance here in this foreign and beautiful world, and I found it Sunday morning and afternoon, at my new countryside church, filled to the brim with French students and families.  Worship in this language of love is possibly my favorite experience so far, and I happily remarked that French provides a better understanding of the accessibility to God that one finds in Christianity; in prayer, the French "tutoyer" Jesus, which is to say, they use the familiar "you" form when they speak to Him.  Here I thought that I would be catholic for a few months, but instead this group, as different from presbyterians as catholics in some ways, found me.  Katie, a new American friend who grew up in Africa, recently shared with me her insights about the "language of the heart," and the importance of translating the Bible into the languages that penetrate the very core of a people.  I honestly believe that I may be in the process of finding my own heart language, somewhere between French and English, where I can "tutoyer" Jesus but still find all of the words I need.
     The story of this internationalism that is quickly becoming my patrimony would be terribly incomplete without Ali.  He found me while I was miserably lost in search of my tennis classroom Friday morning, helped me find it, happily failed at tennis until the professor told him it was not possible for him to stay in that level of class, met my American friends, told us that it had always been his dream to eat dinner with Americans, took us to a restaurant run by Iranians, and had one deep conversation with me in which he stated that I am a better Muslim than he because his faith places a strong emphasis on a spirit for helping others.  This quickly became a discussion about the similarities and differences of the world's great religions.  Indeed, here in France, there are worlds of information to discover, and France's inheritance is everything and nothing in my apprentissage.
~À bientôt!