Saturday, June 5, 2010
Everything Turns, Turns, Turns
In the words of The Bride: “You and I have unfinished business.” (My appreciation of the Kill Bill movies comes from college, not from France). I’m back in the United States right now, having spent several wonderful days in Houston with K and her friends before going home. They kept me busy with lots of social gatherings and delicious meals – cultural adjustment is much easier when you don’t have time to notice all of the little differences. One big change I noticed at the airport was the American version of customer service. Instead of being greeted by indifference and being addressed in formal terms, I was called “Pard’ner” and encouraged to converse with the airport staff. I will nevertheless continue posting tales of my adventures in order to complete my narrative before moving over to a new space for my next great voyage: burkinascisteven.blogspot.com
Toulouse: La Ville "Rose"
After PBJ, I had two days of rest and recovery before setting out again for the southwest of France with my choir. We stayed in the village of Finhan, about an hour away from Toulouse, the fourth-largest city in France and regional capital. I traveled with R, a level-headed judge who’s also a bit of a clown, and A, a psychology student in Paris who speaks wonderful English. Upon arrival, we were met by the other choristes at a barbecue which reminded me more of my family reunions in Iowa than of Parisian sophistication. Lots of eating, singing, drinking, and talking set the tone for the week to come. My host family in Finhan was “super cool”: we were free to come and go as we pleased and were offered delicious toast and coffee for breakfast each morning. All of the Nancéins ate at the stadium for lunch and dinner, providing additional opportunities for discussion and sunbathing. The others kept trying to draw me into their soccer games but I explained that while I could appreciate the French national obsession for the sport, I preferred to write and relax. Perhaps it’s a cultural trait, but several friends asked to see what I was writing and wanted to know why it was in English (I spoke French the entire week, so I didn’t feel terribly guilty).
On our free day, we went to a cave à vin for a dégustation of fine wines at 11am. That afternoon, we visited a beautiful little chapelle that had a cost-saving secret: all of the beautiful objects were made out of carefully painted wood instead of gold. To cap off the afternoon, we went to a rum distillerie and gave an impromptu demonstration of our singing talents for the other patrons. We had some rehearsals mixed into the program, but they lasted only an hour and a half and were more for clarification and last minute fixes than for major changes. Le lendemain, we gave our first concert at a small church in a neighboring village. It was a nice test run, but I held back a bit, which is the worst thing to do at a gospel concert. I had run a few miles in the morning for relaxation but hadn’t practiced as much as I would’ve liked to and felt a bit unconfident.
After a brief répétition the next day, we went to the Musée des Métiers d’Autrefois and saw plow and other farm equipment from the area. Upstairs, the curators had arranged dioramas of old professions such as le balaitier (the broom-maker). Most placards ended with the following statement: Il travaille toujours selon la tradition artisinale et assure toutes les étapes de la fabrication (He always works according to the artisanal tradition and assures all of the steps of the building process). On Friday, we had some quartier libre and several of us went to Toulouse. Due to transit time and the search for parking, we only had two hours in the city. We managed to see the basilica, les Jacobins, and the famous “pink” bricks for which the city is known. In the April light they looked orange – perhaps at June 17th at 5:36 pm they’re pink? That night, A and I had a long conversation in English about the differences in university life, relationship culture, and racism in France and America.
On our last day, I went for another nice jog and was then left to watch the children for awhile while their guardians did housekeeping. Like all gosses, they were cute and happy one minute, crying and screaming the next. Thankfully, the most sensitive ones went into the house and their less moody siblings played contentedly in the grass. We gave our second (and my last) concert that night and it went phenomenally. Yes, there were issues with the little children following orders, but at least they were still cute enough to get away with it. I sang with tout mon coeur and had a great time. R drove A and I home right after the concert, and I was able to pass out until 2 pm.
On our free day, we went to a cave à vin for a dégustation of fine wines at 11am. That afternoon, we visited a beautiful little chapelle that had a cost-saving secret: all of the beautiful objects were made out of carefully painted wood instead of gold. To cap off the afternoon, we went to a rum distillerie and gave an impromptu demonstration of our singing talents for the other patrons. We had some rehearsals mixed into the program, but they lasted only an hour and a half and were more for clarification and last minute fixes than for major changes. Le lendemain, we gave our first concert at a small church in a neighboring village. It was a nice test run, but I held back a bit, which is the worst thing to do at a gospel concert. I had run a few miles in the morning for relaxation but hadn’t practiced as much as I would’ve liked to and felt a bit unconfident.
After a brief répétition the next day, we went to the Musée des Métiers d’Autrefois and saw plow and other farm equipment from the area. Upstairs, the curators had arranged dioramas of old professions such as le balaitier (the broom-maker). Most placards ended with the following statement: Il travaille toujours selon la tradition artisinale et assure toutes les étapes de la fabrication (He always works according to the artisanal tradition and assures all of the steps of the building process). On Friday, we had some quartier libre and several of us went to Toulouse. Due to transit time and the search for parking, we only had two hours in the city. We managed to see the basilica, les Jacobins, and the famous “pink” bricks for which the city is known. In the April light they looked orange – perhaps at June 17th at 5:36 pm they’re pink? That night, A and I had a long conversation in English about the differences in university life, relationship culture, and racism in France and America.
On our last day, I went for another nice jog and was then left to watch the children for awhile while their guardians did housekeeping. Like all gosses, they were cute and happy one minute, crying and screaming the next. Thankfully, the most sensitive ones went into the house and their less moody siblings played contentedly in the grass. We gave our second (and my last) concert that night and it went phenomenally. Yes, there were issues with the little children following orders, but at least they were still cute enough to get away with it. I sang with tout mon coeur and had a great time. R drove A and I home right after the concert, and I was able to pass out until 2 pm.
PBJ: Sights and Food
My two trips had very different goals and thus very different sight-seeing and food itineraries. In Paris, cheering on my friends while they ran the marathon pre-empted more organized sight-seeing and well-planned gourmet meals. Furthermore, I was staying in a youth hostel with three college-aged males who were trying to carbo-load before and after the race. We ate kebabs, Chinese takeout, pizza, bread slathered in chocolate, beer, chips and some fruit (to be fair the kebabs, Chinese food and pizza included vegetables). As the guys were all too tired to search for reasonable fare after the race, we went to the McDo on the Champs Élysées. They each devoured 4 hamburgers and a large order of fries while I quietly ate my fish sandwich and sipped on my Coke. Classy Midwesterners, through and through. On Monday, we all went to the Louvre for a few hours before R and I had to depart. The musée had a wonderful temporary exhibit about the ancient African civilization of Meroe.
Par contre, Barcelona was about catching up with friends while soaking up the amazing sights in one of Spain’s most beautiful cities. K, our lovely travel guide, kept us on the move. The first day we were there, we saw Las Ramblas, the Mercado, the Porto, and the Catedral de la Sagrada Familia. She did let us make some pit stops for coffee along the way at delicious little cafés (and a Starbucks – but only once!). Day 2 was taken up by our travels to Parc Guell, a stroll through the medieval district, and my tour of the aquarium while the ladies explored a Gaudi house. I was lucky enough to travel in the company of some genuine foodies and we were able to savor long tapas dinners. My favorite appetizer was las patatas bravas, followed by shrimp or chicken depending on the night. K’s friend A showed us some great bars including the French expat hangout and a secret after-hours club.
Par contre, Barcelona was about catching up with friends while soaking up the amazing sights in one of Spain’s most beautiful cities. K, our lovely travel guide, kept us on the move. The first day we were there, we saw Las Ramblas, the Mercado, the Porto, and the Catedral de la Sagrada Familia. She did let us make some pit stops for coffee along the way at delicious little cafés (and a Starbucks – but only once!). Day 2 was taken up by our travels to Parc Guell, a stroll through the medieval district, and my tour of the aquarium while the ladies explored a Gaudi house. I was lucky enough to travel in the company of some genuine foodies and we were able to savor long tapas dinners. My favorite appetizer was las patatas bravas, followed by shrimp or chicken depending on the night. K’s friend A showed us some great bars including the French expat hangout and a secret after-hours club.
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