saturday, we woke up incredibly late. by the time i got downstairs, i had missed breakfast completely and it was time for lunch. and what an amazing lunch it was. as this was the last complete day we had with everybody, romain's mother outdid herself. the first course was a tomato-mozarella salad. normally i detest tomatoes, but i loved this salad! the tomatoes were juicy and sweet, and i had missed mozarella cheese. cheese is looked at very differently here. the cheese that is cheap back in the states, like cheddar or mozarella, is really expensive. but goat cheese and camembert and fancy cheeses which would be gourmet in the states are ridiculously cheap here.
the second course was a curry with fish and rice. i dont usually eat curry with fish, mainly chicken. but this was good! jerome's wife detests spice, so mme clerc made a very mild curry. but for those who like spice, [comme moi!], she included a side dish of spice to add to it. so it was really very good.
the dessert was amazing, however. she made a chocolate mousse! all from scratch! plus, after seeing my penchant for strawberries, ie me eating a whole carton all by myself, she served fresh strawberries with it.
after lunch, while his brothers prepared for their departure the next day, we went to one of the little towns in the south around his house. this one was called saint-maxine. the architecture in the south is amazing, and so quaint. the town just felt so romantic! romain, having grown up there, didnt see it that way though.
we stopped and got some ice cream, which claimed to be the best of saint-maxine. it might have been, at one time, before it had been frozen, defrosted, then frozen again. but the guy gave me extra chocolate to garnish my cone and the flavor was amazing, so the icy chunks didnt bother me.
when i focus, i lick my lips. i was having a really hard time choosing soap. ro caught me at that perfect moment, right when i was mid-thought. the south is known for its soap, its really quite special. we bought soap from a tiny stand in front of a square, dozens of bright colors and soft scents gently grabbed my attention and i just had to have one. but despite my protests, both ro and his brother bought me one each. i have saved one for america, but am using one in the shower now. my skin has never been this soft before.
saint-maxine boasts the church where the tomb of mary magdalene is housed. also, the cave where mary magdalene hid. but i didnt go see that one. we went to see the tomb, but it wasnt that impressive. im not religious, i dont know the story of mary magdalene, so this wasnt a very moving experience for me. im sorry to say, we didnt even spend five minutes in the church.
we had to cut our "outing" short, because in french culture dinner is at a specific time and if you miss, there is hell to be had. we arrived two minutes before dinner, and sat down immediately at the table. ro's mother had worked even harder, since this was the last dinner we would all have together. honestly, it might have been one of the weirdest dinners i have ever had.
i dont like cooked vegetables, so i pretended to eat those, slipping them onto ro's plate when no one was looking. but the cod was amazing, and the yellow sauce was even better. i've started buying it here even. its called aioli, and it makes everything better. the snail isnt an escargot, its a sea snail. it is eaten cold and it is absolutely disgusting. not even the yellow sauce could make it better.
after dinner, romain and i went and met up with his friends. i had a horrible time. his friends reminded me of my friends in flagstaff: the hippie clothes, the hippie hair, and the hippie music. but the resemblance stopped there. they were all unbelievably rude. no matter what language i spoke, french or english, they wouldnt speak to me. romain says its because they were afraid, but i didnt get a feeling of fear. it was more like apathy, no only simply cared to speak to me. there is a difference in the youth of paris and the youth of the south: the parisians always want more friends, are used to strangers, and welcome them. the youth of the south is the exact opposite; they have their groups, dont need more, and dont know how to act when strangers come amongst them.
i am willing to admit some fault, however. if lauren who speaks french fluently had been in my place, she would have been fine. or if katy who doesnt speak french but doesnt care had been there, she would have been fine. but me, who speaks french but is afraid, failed. i am too shy to ever succeed in those kind of situations.
sunday, we stayed around the house. ro's brothers all went back to paris. we had waited too long and the sunday train had sold out, so we were forced to leave monday. mme clerc was unbelievably sad. the house was empty and quiet, and she went to bed for most of the day. it was the first time i felt intrusive, knowing if i hadnt been there romain would have been comforting his mother instead of entertaining me. i tried to take a nap, but he wouldnt hear of it. eventually, i got too bored and we went for a walk. he took me to what he called a man-made lake. but in arizona, the man-made lakes are actual lakes, with fishing and boating and whatnot. this was more like a man-made puddle. but it was pretty, and i enjoyed the downtime with romain.
when we got back, his mother had prepared a lunch: leftover cod and cold microwavable pizza. she was definitely depressed that everyone had left. ro and his dad were walking on eggshells around her, and i stayed quiet, offering random french phrases and large awkward smiles.
monday, we didnt do anything but leave the south. ro's dad took us to the train station, and ro seriously looked like he was going to cry. t
my time in the south was amazing. to anyone who likes to travel, i would seriously recommend going to the south of france at least once. i was very apprehensive about meeting ro's family, not only because they speak french, but specifically due to the fact that one day ro and i will have to end. i cant live in france my whole life, and he has no desire to come to america. so, it felt very weird getting to know a family that i may never be part of. but i am very glad i did it, i have learned so much about french culture, but even more about ro and who he really is. i think one of the most interesting things is knowing where someone comes from, and how they became who they are!
this was the last thing i saw while pulling out of the train station in aix:
does it look like an impressionist painting? well, that's cause it inspired many of them. all the most famous french impressionists lived in aix, and painted that exact mountain. as an art history major, that was the most inspiring image i've seen in a while.
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