Below is the link to a movie of all the of pictures that the campus photographers have taken of our first few months here. It has some stunning photos. I am the person in the bright yellow coat, most appropriately.
Even though France does not celebrate Thanksgiving, I still got to celebrate it on two occasions, once with my host family and a second time with all my classmates and friends. The former is a tradition that my host mother started with her first American student and she now continues every year with her friends to celebrate that we are there and to have a good excuse to get together and enjoy a good meal. Thanksgiving, part one for me, took place two weeks ago, on a cold and rainy Sunday. My host mother spent the better part of Saturday cooking and I baked a pumpkin pie, which did not turn out bad. It was completely edible and even tasted like pumpkin. Sunday morning preparations involved learning how to set a table for fourteen people, making place cards, and going out to buy fresh bread. I have decided that one of the best smells is the scent of warm bread wafting out of a bakery into the cold and drizzly morning air.
All formal French meals, (meaning those involving more people than just the family) follow a table setting and it is the job of the hostess to arrange the guests so that they are seated by people who they can relate to and hold interesting conversations with. Rule number one of a French dinner party: Never just sit down. And so, I made the pretty little cards with everyone's name, in orange marker to fit our theme.
Our table, all ready for the six hours that we finally spent at it. This is not an exaggeration when speaking about French culture. Expect dinner parties to last at least four hours or more. Lunch like this was six hours. But, you don't notice the time passing because you are talking and laughing and eating.
I'm disappointed cameras cannot capture smell. Starting from the top and working clockwise, a French Thanksgiving meal at my home here: A clementine, with a little bit of sweet potato in it, topped with a marshmallow and roasted in the oven. Stuffed butternut squash. Piece of turkey. Stuffing that was a blend of numerous fruits and vegetables. Mashed potatoes.
The second part of my Thanksgiving actually occurred on Thanksgiving. Our afternoon classes were cancelled to allow the many students who were doing so to go home and prepare a meal for their host families. After our last class of the day, we went as a group with almost all the teachers to one of the local high schools where we often eat lunch- St. Vincent. There we were treated to a Thanksgiving story performed in a mixture of French and English by two of the staff members, followed by a traditional Thanks giving meal. The table where I was sitting all went around and said what we were grateful for, a very touching moment for those of us who missed our families or felt a little homesick for the first family based holiday abroad. But we enjoyed the meal and swapped our Thanksgiving Day recipes and stories.
They even decorated the cafeteria for us.
Overall, it was a good holiday and an unique chance to celebrate it together in France. Now that it has passed, Christmas music can often be heard in the common room...
Part Two Last Saturday we once again boarded a bus and headed off to Normandy to visit Mont St. Michel. However, this time we did not walk across the bay and get caught in a storm. This trip was to visit the actual mount and the abbey and small village perched on it. We had good weather this time, if not a little cold with the wind blowing from all directions, to explore what is one of the most uniquely situated churches in France, if not the world.
Mont St. Michel is on the border between Normandy and Brittany, a border marked by a river that has changed its path many times throughout the course of history. it is in between the sky and the earth, as it rises out of a flat bay and seems to touch the sky and between water and the earth, as it is at some points an island and others a part of the land.
The bay, obviously at low tide. Close to the coast, the land is very flat. The water visible is the river that flows out to the bay.
A view overlooking the river, taken form the abbey. There is a problem with the herbs, all the green stuff close to the water, in the sense that it is encroaching on the bay. This is partly due to a bridge and road that was put in, that obstructed the follow of water and sand out to the bay. So know they put in a mechanism by the bridge that moves the water and are going to take out the road, as a bridge has been built that allows the natural movement of water and sand to flow through the bay.
Mont St. Michel is a historic pilgrimage site, since the 12th century. The oldest buildings and sections date from at least the 10th century, but it is possible that there are sections that were destroyed that were older. Over the centuries, but in three distinct sections, the abbeys were constructed and rebuilt, around the church at the summit of the mount. Today it is a heavily visited sight, for its history, religious significance and uniqueness.
The cloister, right next to the church, which is the big building in the upper right corner of the picture. It was a place for the monks to pace quietly, reading perhaps, in peace. Originally, it was completely closed to the world, with no open walls leading to public parts of the church, so only the sky was visible.
This crypt is called the crypt of the big pillars. Not one of those things that takes a lot of background knowledge to understand why.
This is a hall that was built in the Roman style of architecture and was modified to fit with the Gothic period. Those three lines are supposed to be in the center of the arch over the doorway. Someone's calculations didn't quite line up I think...
And one last picture of Mont St. Michel, after the sun had come out.
I went with my host mother to the supermarket the other day to discover, sitting right in between the pork chops and pigs feet, that they sell veal brains here in the supermarket. I have tried a lot more new foods these past two and a half months and have found that I liked the vast majority of them. However, veal brain is where I draw the line. Thank you very much but somehow seeing the brain sitting in the plastic container did not exactly pique my appetite. My host mother assured me, seeing my surprised face, that although some people do eat that, it is not incredibly common and she does not eat it. On another food related note, this Sunday my host mother has put together a Thanksgiving lunch for fourteen people, a yearly tradition for her. I am baking a pumpkin pie and the school was kind enough to give me some canned pumpkin. Apparently, we start cooking tomorrow and don't stop until right before lunch on Sunday. I will post pictures of the cooking process and our table, once it is pretty and all set.
Almost impossible to find in a French supermarket...
I haven't done this in a while. I suppose becuase life is starting to feel so normal that the small little accomplishments have become part of your everyday routine. But, today I used the future anterior tense in a normal conversation without having to translate it to English in my head. It was like my brain spit it out. It's nice to know my subconscious is finally starting to catch up with me. Future anterior- a tense in which you talk about an event that will have been finished in the future. Not as bad as the subjunctive tense, but still complicated.
Life in France... Returning from a late creative writing club meeting Monday evening to find a fire already heating the living room. Spending time working through French homework in front of said fire, with two dictionaries and a cat. Eating sausages for dinner that were cooked on the fire and working through the guest list for our big Thanksgiving lunch. Knowing there is no school tomorrow.
This past Saturday was another SYA challenge day. This one was more complex than sending a postcard, or not using internet. We had to ask our host families for a list of five items to buy at the local market Saturday and then had to go there on our own, talk with the vendors, spend some time looking around and finally purchase the items. When we got home, our host families then had to affirm that we had bought everything that was on the list and, most importantly, if we had bought the right thing. So, my list that my host mother made with a lot of enthusiasm. 1 Salade 6 oeufs 6 echarlottes 1 fromage de chèvre 1kg des clementines And with that list, I set off to the market Saturday morning. After buying some school supplies, I realized I wasn't exactly sure how to walk to the market from where I was. So, I followed all the people like me with baskets and large tote bags. Sure enough, it took about five minutes and I was there. I love the market, early Saturday morning when the fish vendors are calling out where their catches are from and the local artisan bakers are explaining with pride, what their bread and pastries are made of. I would guess I spent about forty five minutes just walking around, seeing everything. I managed to ask where my products came from with each thing I bought and the majority came from Bretagne. I also got asked if my native language was German because the person thought I had a German accent. It was tempting to buy the bright red tomatoes and golden apples, but I mostly stuck to my list. Mostly.
What I brought home today to my host mother. All was deemed to be perfect. The cake all the way to the right is where I deviated from my list a little. It is a moist, dense spiced cake and is amazing. For those of you who know what ontbijtkoek is, it resembles that a lot.
I saw this walking home from school the other day. While I took the picture, the sun was shining and it was also pouring rain. But, it makes for a nice effect.
A student who is spending a lot of time overseas in the coming year and decided that she might as well write about it. She has a bright yellow raincoat.
Just a note, italicized words can be found in the glossary. Just in case they're confusing. I thought I might as well throw some Dutch and French words.
If anyone reading this blog has questions about SYA, or is interested in the program and would like to know more about life in Rennes, feel free to post a comment. I read all of them and will happily respond.