le sud: les derniers jours.

finally, the last post about the south! this is the last in a series of three. here are parts one and two.

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.

le sud: jeudi et vendredi.

thursday, i woke up refreshed and feeling better. we woke up early, disturbed by the cries of young emma. i headed downstairs in my pajamas, wanting to be there for breakfast. breakfast was very relaxed, everyone was left to fend for themselves. that morning, we went to a french open market, which is like a huge collective yard sale. i found an old tobacco pipe with the a carving of a round-cheeked gust of male wind, and a pocket watch that wouldnt open. i didnt buy them, as i had no cash. but it was still really interesting to see the things people had collected over the years, then randomly decided to get rid of.

after the market, i showered, got ready, and went back down, prepared for whatever the day would bring. it didnt bring much, just hours of sitting around speaking french, which is much more exhausting than you would expect. romain and i gardened some, lay by the pool, fooled around with his camera, and played some fighting video games. [i won, as always.] it was this day when his family begun to try to get me to stay in france. romain's belle sœur even begun trying to get her baby to say "tante anna", claiming if she said it i couldnt on good conscience ever leave france. they also referred to romain's mother as my future mother-in-law. however, i think that was just cause they didnt know any other words or the meaning attached to it. they also kept using the phrase "what's the hell??", which i absolutely loved.

as romain is a photographer, his idea of complete entertainment happens only with a camera [or techno music]. these are the result:

and my personal favorite:

he also adores taking videos, here are a couple:


 
hear the french in the background??



for dinner, i got to experience true french wine. they dug deep into their cave de vin [wine cellar] and pulled out a bottle from the late eighties. it was good, i was suitably impressed, yet i am not a big fan of wine. never have been. everybody said that would change once i got into france. i think i like it less, cause i am surrounded by it and have no other affordable options. for dinner, ro's mom made enchiladas. he had told her i like them. they were good, but they made me miss home, where they are exceptional. again, we stayed up talking but not as late as the last night. the exciting charm of reunion had worn off, and people were just tired.

friday, after much delibaration and arguing by the family, we decided to go to the beach. we went to cassis, ate in  fancy restuarant, played in the waves, and laid in the sand. we didnt go to the coves, but it was still an amazing trip. i ate at my first fancy french restaurant, each course was around twenty euro. now, i am not classy. i am an artist. this was a huge deal for me, one i was not comfortable with. romain has spent too much money on me, as has his family. but my complaints were ignored.

it was weird, being with the frenchies at the beach. not a single one had any desire to go anywhere near the water. they sat on the edge of the beach, in their tights and shoes. it took a lot of prodding to get romain down to the water, and even more major convincing to get his shoes off.

after the beach, we went home and ate dinner. this time the wine was from 1978! a full ten years older than me. i didnt like it, but neither did romain, which made me feel better. i guess some wines age well, and some dont. there is no way to tell. romains mom had mad chicken, and placed barbecue sauce on the table solely for me. now i dont really like barbecue sauce, but apparently, its the american thing to eat!!

after dinner, we ironically enough watched an american movie about a country singer in arizona. it wasnt very realistic of my life, at all. it made us all seem like backward rednecks. romains family was amused by this portrayal, especially romain. he vowed jokingly never go to flagstaff. the movie was the first true english i'd heard all weekend, and it felt very weird to hear it. i keep thinking the phrases over again in french. i'm at that point in between languages. im definitely not comfortable hearing french, but im no longer completely comfortable hearing english. its a very odd place to be. 

i found an aerial view of romain's house on his camera, dont ask me how he got it. ill leave you with that. i am off to uni!

le sud: le premier jour

well, i came back from the south today. it was an amazing trip, and to be completely honest, i'm a little sad to be back in paris. the south of france was beautiful, better than anywhere else i have been so far. the architecture was bright and colorful, but quaint and old. the weather was gorgeous, the clouds were bright and fluffy and stood still in the sky, and the blue was almost electric neon, shining down in shades i had never seen before. the sun was bright but there was a slight wind to lessen the burn. i am so tan, i finally feel mixed again. it took six days in the south to undo what seven months in london/paris had done to my skin color!

meeting ro's family was both like and unlike everything i had expected. there was nine of us, four couples and a baby girl of six months. a couple of days before we were supposed to leave, i looked up french etiquette online. i was told, by multiple sites, to always always always bring a gift. so i walked myself to monoprix, and bought a potted plant. bright orange gerber daisies, with lots of leaves. but that didnt seem like me, nor did it seem like enough. anyone can bring a plant, especially an unmarked one that was only five euro. so i hunted through my newly-acquired phildar stash and stumbled upon two skeins of dk purple wool blend that just wanted to be made into a baby dress. so i started it, realizing i had less than 48 hours to both knit the dress and prepare myself. i knit until six in the morning, and in my fatigue, forgot to shut the window on the freezing storm that was pouring down on the paris streets. i would feel the effects of that later.

the day before our departure, ro's aunt decided that she wanted to meet me as well. she had been trying for months, after realizing i was illicitly staying in her shared home with romain, when she and her husband went out of town. [i threw away a tampon. she's going through menopause. not a hard puzzle to figure out.] i had managed to avoid meeting her, stating the obvious fears of speaking english, social faux pas, etc. however, that excuse becomes a little ridiculous once youve agreed to stay with a boys parents for a week. meeting the aunt seems a little less daunting...

so, after ro's work, i met him there with my valise in hand. she was incredibly nice, and only laughed about ro breaking the rules and letting me stay there. she didnt seem mad one bit, whereas i had expected her to at least chastise. she spoke frenglish, just as i do. she offered food and left us alone, heading to bed. it gave me more hope for the next day.

due to the aforementioned open window, i spent the night in a cold sweat, unable to sleep but unable to wake up. i kept sneezing, coughing, and shaking romain to bring me water and mouchoirs or tissues. i barely slept an hour.

the day broke bright and early, and i felt like my head was going to explode. but i ripped myself out of my bed, wanting so badly to dress myself properly for the first meeting. we arrived at the train station right on time, and i passed the four hours knitting furiously. i was still unable to finish, upon arrival, only the ties on the dress were left. we sat for twenty or so minutes, until his mom arrived. a short, small woman dressed in jeans with bright grey roots and auburn hair stepped out of a dented dark turquoise car. this was not what i expected. where was the majesty that being rich and french affords? where was the haughty attitude, the condescending smile, and the judging looks? it was then that i realized i was not in paris anymore. i was in the south. i had heard things were different, people were different, but i had not realized. she bounce-stepped before me awkwardly, shyly, and i could tell she was searching her words, trying to speak english. i knew the moment she gave up on that, because out came a bubbling stream of french syllables that i could never have hoped to understood. bright turquoise eyes, a mirror of romains, stared welcomingly at me, waiting for an answer. i only smiled, said i didnt understand as we both looked at romain for translation. that would be how it was for the rest of the trip, for mme clerc did not speak a word of english. what she did speak was made-up in her head, [she liked to add "-ly" to words] and i had to work harder to decipher her english than her french. but she was a beautiful, happy woman who was frustrated by our language barrier and unbelievably excited to have her sons at home.

his dad arrived moments later, in a separate car. the family has eight people, traveling anywhere is an adventure to say the least. the car matched more what i expected, european, shiny silver paint and dark leather interior that smells like rental car. the man was also more what i expected, polos and khakis, pressed to fit. until he spoke english in a quiet friendly rumble, his face split by a smile and creased by laughlines. his ears, his jaw, his nose, all reminded me so much of romain. it was amusing to see romain standing in between them, and be able to match each feature of his with theirs. because my parents are different races, its much harder to assign specific features to each. this was a novelty i am not used to.

we waited a couple hours for his brothers to arrive, making chitchat in the car, in the rain, and in the station. chitchat when you dont know each other is hard enough, chitchat between the significant other of a child and its parents is even harder, but chitchat when you dont speak the same language is impossible. the combination of all three was overwhelming for my already sick body, and i fell asleep, my head on romains lap in the back of the car.

then, suddenly, his brothers were there. it was like a storm hit.  i was met by delighted cries, kisses, and baby coos. expecting to be forgotten in the jumble of reunion, i took a step back and prepared to wait. it took only seconds before i was swept up in a cloud of bisous, immediately greeted. i answered every question, but clung to romain. one thing not made evident by this blog is i dont like to speak. i'm not a talker, i was raised by the silent types and prefer to be that way myself. not a single thing about this family was quiet, the chatter was nonstop and switched languages so fast i could barely keep up. however, in those six days, i learned more french than i have during my whole stay in paris.

we drove the forty minutes to his house, and i was treated to views of blossoming early vineyards and mountains painted by all the best impressionists.

his house was large, two sprawling stories, and bright yellow. it was situated at an angle, running diagonal to the street, and set back a few hundred meters. a pool and a garden that would be better called a forest surrounded it, a terrace covered in bright yellow flowers was on one side. bright aqua shutters bordered each window and each door, much like every other house in the south. i had never seen a cuter, more quietly stylish, house.

by the time we got to his house, i could barely stand i felt so sick. unsure of whether i was ill or simply always looked this way, romain's mother tentatively asked me i needed some medicine. i responded quickly that yes i sure did, and she pumped me full of three different pills, handed me a robe and some slippers, and turned to play with the baby.

it was only two at this time, and lunch was promptly served. we all gathered around a very large table and began to speak. romains mother brought out a couscous and a cucumber dish that i was very pleasantly surprised to discover i liked. i ate my fill, rejoicing that the food was so light and perfect for me. i had feared that my stomach would not be able to handle the french eating habits, and was so happy to find that fear unfounded.

that was, of course, until she brought another dish. i had forgotten that french meals all have three courses. it was an amazing meal, but i could barely eat more than a few bites. romain explained my stomach to his family, and i was met with sympathetic glances. being able to only eat one course seemed interminable to them.

after lunch, we all gathered around, sat and talked until dinner. we ate a meal of fresh french and spanish charcuterie. possibly the worst thing i could have eaten for my stomach, but the best tasting thing i have had in a while. i discovered on this trip that i could subsist solely on baguettes, saucisson, and goat cheese without a problem. dinner was fewer courses than lunch, but not by much. dessert was an almond butter fudge, brought back from spain, i forgot the name, if anybody knows it, please tell me!

 we stayed up talking until midnight, and romain would not allow me to go to bed before any else, declaring it insufferably rude. so i nodded off in my chair a couple of times, head clouded with cough medicines and fever. my fever broke during the night, and i woke up the next morning refreshed and with only a slight sniffle that would persist the rest of my stay.

but it is one in the morning here, i am worn out from a day of travel and this entry has already gotten quite long. i will post more details tomorrow, what we did on the rest of the trip. goodnight! i'll leave you with one last photo!