Reflections on France V February 20, 2007
By Sandra Price
February 5 - I am starting this chapter in the airport at 9 in the morning on my way from Geneva to Chicago. Going “home” always creates contradictory pulls. There is the pull of the familiar – people, places, stuff. There is the pull of being in a place where I am a grown-up and can communicate without thinking about what I want to say ahead of time and where I can almost always understand what is said in reply. (Spanish-accented English and French are difficult for me.) But at the same time I feel a pull not to leave the increasingly familiar life here. First there is the charm and the beauty of the area. The sunrise this morning as we drove to the airport featured the outline of the Alps, including Mt. Blanc, with a blue and pink sky streaked with vapor trails. As pleasant as La Grange is, the roof of the nursing home to the east just can’t compete with the mountains. I am also feeling a bit more competent. Recently I called and arranged for a roof repairman to come and replace tiles that had blown off our roof when we were in the US. And it took only two days to get up the courage to place the phone calls.
Then there is the adventure. A couple we knew in graduate school just arrived; and as Ellen Taylor and I have shown the new Ellen the ropes of the local grocery store, I realize I’ve learned a great deal. She joined us as we took in two museums in Geneva, one I’d not visited before which was another adventure. Two comments from an article about positive psychology in the Jan/Feb 2007 Harvard Magazine highlight some of the reasons for the pull. Daniel Gilbert is quoted as saying “Human beings are constituted to make the best of the situations in which they find themselves. But people don’t know they have this ability, and that’s the thing that bedevils their predictions about the future.” While others told me I would fit right into this new life, I was not quite as confident. That’s one of the reasons we didn’t sell the house, a move that in retrospect would have made economic sense.
I also feel more engaged here. Ellen Langer studies mindfulness and in the same article it says “To Langer mindfulness means noticing new things and drawing new distinctions. ‘It doesn’t matter whether what you notice is smart or silly,’ she says, ‘because the process of actively drawing new distinctions produces that feeling of engagement we all seek. It’s much more available than you realize: all you need to do is actually notice new things. More than 30 years of research has shown that mindfulness is figuratively and literally enlivening. It’s the way you feel when you’re feeling passionate.’” I guess it is possible to be in a different country and not be engaged but I guess I’m too curious. She adds “Mindfulness is the essence of charisma. When you don’t take the world as given, but as full of possibilities, it becomes endlessly exciting.”
I’ve begun to imagine that when I return to the US, I’m going to go to more museums and finally visit places like Springfield, Illinois and take in the last four states I’ve not seen..
Now for some things that have contributed to our adventure:
On Armistice Day, Ellen, her husband Frank, Larry and I all attended the memorial service in Thoiry. Ellen and I went last year but this year the 11th was on Saturday. The brief ceremony was solemn, taking place in front of the monument to the young men who died in World War I with a few names from later wars.. Then we all went to the Salle des Fetes for a cup of drink. Last year Ellen and I just observed the scene and left quickly. This year we all stayed for a ceremony that involved recognition of the young sapeurs/pompiers (firefighters) , who came in first in a national competition and will go to the European finals in Sweden. Then it was the turn of the regular firemen. Our mairie, Jocelyn Bloch, who has been mayor for ten years, graciously gave out the awards. We then shared a cup and talked with a Canadian couple we’d met at the commemoration and their French neighbor.
Our next stop was the annual St. Martin wine-tasting in Peissy and the neighbor told us about a restaurant that was featuring pork as a result of the fall slaughter. We ate pork in a variety of forms and then wandered through Peissy which sits atop a low ridge between the Jura and Alpes. Features this year included donkey rides and cart rides as well as Alpine horn players with the very long horns that sit on the ground. One delightful scene was of a little boy about four who looked at the men blowing the horns and then went to look into the far ends of the horns so look for the sound. We also tasted wine and bought some, too. I’m thinking we should take an inventory of our growing “cave.”
A word about St. Martin. He was a reluctant fourth-century bishop. His sainthood seems to have come from cutting his cloak in half and giving half to a poor man with no cloak when he was a young soldier and before he was baptized as a Christian. (I’ll have to check to see if he survived the purge of saints that eliminated St. Valentine among other.) There is also a tale that some of the donkeys at his monastery got loose after the harvest and ate the leaves off the grapevines in the vineyard. When those vines produced even more grapes for the following harvest, the practice of pruning grapes began. That’s why St. Martin is associated with wine and why donkeys are often called “Martin.” At least that’s what the museum display at the Wine Museum in Tours said.
I’m now waiting in the Newark Airport for my flight to Chicago.
For Thanksgiving we organized an American dinner for our AWOJ group. (American Women of the Jura, a name that has been changed to be more inclusive Cern Relocated English-speaking Women or the CREW.) It takes planning to order a turkey at least a week in advance (and be prepared for heads, feet, etc.) and to find cranberries. We think we have located three sources for next year and I have a bag in the freezer. In the end there were 17 people at the party at Rita and Fred Borcherding’s in the Heidi House. We imported microwaves to heat up food since Rita has one small oven. All went well, even the weather so that we could be on the balcony and not crowded in the house.
The next day the UU’s had a gathering, too, so we had two Thanksgivings.
I am now back in France having struggled through two weeks in the US. First there was the weather, and I have the newspaper article that says I have the right to complain. We had very cold temperatures and four storms, one of which caused the cancellation of my flight and thus the extension of my stay for four more days. Then there was the phone line (cut by AT&T in an effort to fix our tenants’ DSL) which took two and a half days to get figured out and fixed), a car that would not start, and a spouting outside spigot. I finally got a new battery and turned off the inside valve to solve the latter problem but it was a struggle. I did get to a lot of medical checkups, got to church, and saw some friends so the visit had its plus side. The weather here is spring-like and my daffodils are five inches high. What a change.
Since we drove to Paris for our flight to Oregon for Christmas, we had the car on our return and followed our plan to see the Loire Valley. We actually wanted to go to Bordeaux but meteo.fr said that it is very rainy there in the winter. Since our route to Tours went not too far from Chartres, we stopped to admire the cathedral. Larry’s father says they stopped on a family trip in 1959 but Larry does not remember. Then it was through the countryside to Tours. We stayed in a lovely hotel there which featured the extra challenge of backing into their little parking lot because street parking was hard to find. Mostly we walked in Tours to save rebacking in. Our first day we set out for the coast but learned that despite our new GPS system’s directions, the highway was not yet built that would take us west. So we drove along the levees that contain the Loire in flood season. They were the height of 2nd and 3rd story windows of houses we passed. It looked like the levees were built at the edges of villages because there were the Loire and fields on the left and village houses just a meter or two from the levee’s base on the right.
Seeing a sign for Fontevraud, an abbey I’d read about, we took a detour to see it. It is lovely and contains much history. Founded in 1101 it was designed to include both a nunnery and monastery but always be under the leadership of an abbess, more specifically a noblewoman. See http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Fontevraud_Abbey. So there were a number of Bourbon names on the list of abbesses. But what impressed me were the tombs of Eleanor of Aquitaine, her husband Henry II, their son Richard the Lionhearted, and their daughter-in-law Isabella, wife of their son John. For the first time I understood that those “English” Plantagenets I’d read about in history and literature were really French in that their lives and deaths were in France. It was only the English loss of the Hundred Years’ War that focused the English rulers attention on England. At one time there were fourteen Plantagenet tombs at the monastery but only four remain. The buildings include a uniquely-designed kitchen with many chimneys, reportedly for smoking meat. Eleanor could have spent her last days in a much more unpleasant place.
Our next stop was Angers, the center of the Angevin kingdom. Larry had read of a tapestry and a chateau so we headed for the chateau because there were street signs for it. It is a real castle in that it had a defensive purpose
(http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ch%C3%A2teau_d'Angers) Luckily it also has the tapestry (http://www.abelard.org/france/cathedrals4-angers.php). It is breathtaking. Created in the 14th century to show the Apocalypse, it is the oldest woven tapestry extant. There are 70 or so of 132 panels originally created that remain and are on display. We were so intrigued we listened to the tour in French. We both understood that the six-headed monster in the form of a leopard was England. Remember the Hundred Years’ War?
The place is well worth a visit.
The next day Larry worked and I explored Tours in the afternoon. I’ve grown to love local museums and Tours has a number of them. My favorites were the Hotel Gouin, a medieval house that survived two World War II bombings and now houses the area archaelogical collection as well as later art AND the scientific instruments collected in the 18th century by the son of the then owner of Chenonceau (more later) whose secretary was Rousseau. I got Matt the book and later made sure Larry saw the museum. I also took him to the Musee du Compagnonnage. In the words of the Tours website “ This museum is unique in the world. It contains the masterpieces, tools, illustrated and written records of the Tour de France journeymen since 1840.” There are incredible works in wood, iron, leather, and even sugar to illustrate how masterful those craftmen were.
The Michelin atlas for France has a tour of the Loire Valley that includes 12 chateau in three days. We thought that pace was impossible so the last day we visited only two chateau, building that were built not for defense but for show – Chenonceau and Chambord. Two years ago my neighbor Claribel took me to a book presentation by a woman who dramatizes books. Her topic that day was a biography of Diane de Poitiers, the power behind the throne and mistress of Henri II. The presentation was fascinating as was Diane. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Diane_de_Poitiers). Henri II gave Chenonceau to her and after his death, his queen Catherine de Medici, banished Diane and moved into the castle from where she ruled France. She did not disturb Diane’s gardens and added some of her own but did build a gallery on a bridge over the river Cher, a bridge that enabled some to escape from occupied France to Vichy France during WWII. For more history see http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ch%C3%A2teau_de_Chenonceau
Chambord (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ch%C3%A2teau_de_Chambord) was the first of the Loire château and Larry wanted to see the double-helix staircase. So late in the day we made a stop. What is most amazing about it is that at least in its early years, hardly anyone spent any time there. I was intrigued by a statue of Louis XVI’s sister who evidently once saved Marie Antoinette’s life by facing attackers and saying “Je suis la reine” (I am the queen) while the real queen escaped. The sister died on the guillotine later like the rest of the family.
We stopped by Bourges and saw the cathedral on the way home but that’s enough for now.
Odd Items
The French have two phrases to describe how a day is going -- un jour avec or “a day with” means that everything is meshing. But un jour sans or “a day without” describes those days when you should have stayed in bed.
In a British gardening book I came across a term for older people “wrinkles.” I don’t’ know whether to be amused or appalled.
One never asks for a Coke here. Coke is the word for cocaine. Un Coca, s’il vous plait.
The Jura Mountains produce a yellow wine unlike any other wine I’m familiar with. Eric Asimov did a column about them last fall if you’d like to know more. We were told the bottle I bought would last 50 years --- but we should change the cork at 20 years.
At the Patek Philippe watch museum, our guide pointed out that watches for men had “complications” like phases of the moon, stopwatches, etc. but those for women are beautiful.
Pharmacies stock licorice sticks as in licorice wood. It must have herbal uses. Food coloring is at pharmacies and not in the grocery store, but I don’t know why.
There is an odd sign on the gate to a house up the hill Under the picture of a guard dog the sign reads (freely translated) “I’m not racist, I bite anyone beyond this point.”
Why do we say “mayday” when we need help? A friend pointed out that the word was probably initially “m’aidez” or “help me.” The American Heritage Dictionary confirms the fact and says it’s an “international radio-telephone signal word used by aircraft and ships in distress.”
Before 1850 the Swiss cantons had more than 300 different coins among them. A new constitution in 1848 gave control over currency to a new national government. And I thought I had problems managing euros and Swiss francs.
When both the Swiss and French here do road work, they do not cover up the white lines when they redirect traffic. Instead they put down orange lines. Following the orange lines is a cognitive challenge.
A Swiss Footnote
I borrowed a book from the English Library on the history of Switzerland hoping to learn more about my Mennonite (Anabaptists) ancestors who left Switzerland in the early 1700’s for Pennsylvania. There was one line in the book about the Anabaptists but the rest was an excellent retelling by Georg Thurer of the formation of the confederation and the various events that have threatened to pull it apart. One of my favorite quotations came from a seventy-year-old poet, Carl Spittler, who saved the day on the eve of World War I. People were taking sides based on their “racial group,” i.e the German-speakers were siding with Germany, the French-speakers with France, etc. He spoke to the New Helvetic Society on 14 December 1914 and said:
“We must realize that our political brother is closer to us than the best neighbor and racial kinsman. To strengthen this realization is our patriotic duty. It is not an easy duty. We must feel united without being similar.””
Food for thought.
Bon jour, tout le monde, nous sommes a l’Ecole de Trois Ponts a Roanne, a l’ouest de Lyon. Comment ca va ?
(Hi, everyone, we’re at the School of Three Bridges in Roanne, to the west of Lyon.)
We’ve been here since Sunday evening and have spent eighteen hours in class so far and have had twelve meals with the other students where we have spoken only French. The meal last evening also featured a wine-tasting with a presentation all in French. It has been quite intensive and the food for lunch and dinner has been great. (Breakfast is cereal and bread and fruit and yoghurt.) Since the other person in my class (Larry has two others) is not taking the afternoon classes, four of the hours have been one-on-one. Since one of my weaknesses is hearing numbers, we’ve spent lots of time on that and I am getting better. The real test will be when the automatic voice on the answering machine starts spouting the number of someone who called. We have three more hours tomorrow morning and Larry has three more in the afternoon. I did not sign up for the extra time. But all of the classes have been relaxed and the two to three hours have gone very quickly. As my classmate, a retired German secondary teacher said, we are learning with pleasure.
A bit more on the meals. In the evening there is an entrée (in the US an appetizer), a main course of meat or fish and a vegetable, a course of five cheeses, and a dessert. There are three bottles of wine on the table for the 8-10 of us. The chef always presents the cheeses and explains how to cut them properly. My classmate (Heinz/Henri) makes a point of not always trying to be exact.
On the free afternoons we’ve gone into the city of Roanne and visited the museum there. It features prehistoric and Gallo-Roman artifacts, paintings from medieval to modern, ceramics from a variety of places and eras including a special section of plates from the Revolution