Adaptation

Well, it’s been a tough week. No matter where in the world you’re going to, be it Europe, Asia, or Africa, adapting to a life somewhere else is always a challenge. I know that you’re saying “shut up you’re in France” but it’s much different to pass through with a backpack and drinking with your hostel buddies, than to have to make a new life for yourself for a prolonged period of time. It’s been very lonely, even when I try to keep myself occupied, and discovering a place isn’t quite the same when you have no one to get into all sorts of shenanigans. It’s dawned on me that I’m here for a while, and although I’m excited for the adventures to come, I’m also homesick- culture shock I guess!
Nonetheless, I’m grateful (somewhere deep inside) for this challenge, and for the career opportunities it’s going to afford me. After being here, and having pretty much perfect French, I will be able to return to Canada and work wherever I damn well please, since they’re so desperate for French Immersion teachers. So, let’s look at this experience as an investment.
I’m currently very much enjoying learning and comparing the little details that make a culture rich. One of the advantages of staying with a local family, is that I get all the insiders’ scoop on the city, not to mention a huge help with setting up my affairs. Benjamin, the 15 year old son of the family I’m with, took me on my second day on a little tour of the city. As you may be able to see from the pics I posted, it’s a charming place. It’s about the same size of Victoria, with gorgeous architecture, and very mild winter weather (or so they tell me). The transportation system is also incredibly effective, with nowhere in the city being farther than 50 metres from a bus or tramway stop. The people are very nice, and extremely well dressed…. I yearn for my whole closet in Canada 
The day after the city tour, the daughter (Pauline- I’ve remembered her name since the last blog!) and Michelle took me out for lunch on Friday. We went to a small restaurant serving typical cuisine from Northern French. It’s no myth that the French have a tremendous reverence for their food. Lunch is the most important meal of the day, and if one were to eat their “habitual” meal, one would be obese in a couple weeks. For example, that day, I ate an appetizer: Prosciutto with avocado and melon carpaccio, accompanied by a small green salad. This would’ve been enough for me. But, the menu includes 3 plates… so I proceeded to eat squid in a lemon garlic sauce, with couscous, and roasted vegetables. I was so full… and of course there is more. For dessert, I ate a berry trio, which was comprised of a strawberry shortcake thing, a blackberry mousse of some sort, and a raspberry gelato. HOLY CRAP… I rolled, not walked, home. I can say with confidence that I will not be picking up on their eating habits while I’m here!
Friday night I went to the Jazz festival next to the Erdre with Michelle. I saw, for those of you who are blues fans, the fantastic Mighty Moe Rodgers, who is not only an amazing musician, but by all means one of the best poets you’ll ever have the pleasure of listening to. His music is a social commentary on contemporary issues, but with good old blues rhythm. He definitely had the crowd going! One of the things that amazed me, was that people were allowed to drink out in public, on the street- without a single person making an ass out of themselves, starting a fight, or generally disrupting the festivities. I can’t even imagine the Vancouver fireworks with the same lenient allowances when it comes to alcohol… it would be a debauchery of epic proportions. But here, people are.. er.. what’s the word… civil with their alcohol. Not getting hammered until you pass out? What a concept!
Saturday was spent at the marche au plein air, which is the weekend public market. As most of you know, I have quite a penchant for gourmet, fresh food… and going to the market was a truly heavenly experience. The fresh fruit and vegetables from local farms, the cheese stands, the fish stands with fresh mussels, oysters, prawns, lobster, etc, the bakeries.. my goodness, I could’ve died happy in that place. I bought a couple things to make dinner for my gracious host family, and left there before I spent the bulk of my capital on Roquefort and warm baguettes. At night, I returned to the festival, but alone. It was all beautiful, but let me tell you IT SUCKS to have no one to speak with, comment about, drink a beer, or make fun of others. But alas, it got me out of the house!
Sunday was a really nice day, spent with the family, and a couple of their guests. The first is Pauline’s boyfriend, who works as a pilot for the French military. He comes up from Marseille every weekend to see her (6 hour train ride every week? Very romantic!).. and has offered himself as a tour guide of Marseille if I wish to see the south. The other guest is a friend of Michelle’s, Marie Jo. She lives in Tours, a city 2 hours away from here, famous for its castles and mushrooms (the edible ones!). She has also invited me for a tour of the region’s castles, wineries (Amanda, I’m thinking of you!!), and the mushroom caves. So, I’ll be going in mid-September, and save beaucop because I don’t have to pay for lodging, or some meals. Sweet!
But, yesterday, has been, by far my most favourite day. After some administrative errands around the university, Michelle, Marie Jo and I went on a daytrip to L’Ile Noirmouture. An hour and a half away, it’s connected by a causeway, and a bridge to the mainland. The causeway is only accessible when the tide is down. And let me tell you, it goes WAY down. For the 6 hours it’s low, one can walk on the sand for kilometers on end. THOUSANDS of people and cars go to these beachy marshes to fish for mussels and oysters left behind by the tide. When the water comes up, the causeway is completely submerged underwater again.. it was a sight, to have crossed it in the morning, and then in the evening see it completely covered underwater from the bridge. Just in case you get stuck in the middle of the tide coming in, there are some cement towers that you can climb, so that you don’t drown. Comforting, no?
The island is a vacationer’s island. No one lives there unless you cultivate oysters, mussels, or potatoes. The houses are GORGEOUS, and I would gladly retire there. We rented bikes, and biked the 30 km perimeter around the island, stopping at the beaches, and other little places where I wanted to take pictures. The pics are uploaded unto Facebook, so have a looky. While on my bike, I finally had a “Wow, I’m in France” moment. It was a relief to be glad to be here…. I hope to have more of those in the days to come.
Alors, the rain has stopped outside, so I’m going to leave this café. I’ve written a lot, and my wrists are sore! Hope you’re all doing well, and keep the little comments and notes coming, they’re so comforting!
Bisous,
Maria