Cheese, Pastries and Children: My Year in France: Whether you think you can, or you think you can't

There are several things that living in a foreign country provide you with including the ability to get to know other cultures. I have met people from so many different places since I have been here and it is amazing. When we were out the other night with our South African friend I learned several terms including “pre-match” which would be what we call pre-gaming. I also learned that a bartender is called a “barman”. Not only that but how they cuss is quite fantastically, and I am especially interested since I am a cursing aficionado. He says that things are shit. Like a certain club is shit or a certain drink is shit. They also apparently use wanker like the British.

I cooked thanksgiving dinner last week for my family. Although it wasn’t like home. I had to make almost everything from scratch…and I mean from SCRATCH because they don’t have the same ingredients here. Not only that but we had chicken…not ham or turkey. It was good I think and they ate it all which is good. Except the pie. But that’s another story. Apparently since I moved here I have been using the oven completely wrong. My pie was shit because I cooked it wrong and the chicken was raw. Like literally raw. So we had to wait another 45 minutes for that to cook. The kids were like done with dinner and me and my “parents” sat around talking about French health care and social systems which is always awesome. I love hearing about how things work here. I can google anything I want but hearing it from the mouths of people experiencing it day in and day out is a whole different story. Not only that, but I am lucky to have a “mom” from another country and culture to add her feelings on France and her own culture.

At dinner on Monday I also learned of a Czech tradition at Easter that I have super mixed feelings about. I really want to experience it and I really want to avoid it at all costs…it is a very close emotional fight. The Monday after Easter, the boys and some men go around the village with a whip made from pussy willow branches and hit women and girls on the butt while saying a Czech poem. If you're a kid, then you get chocolate or hand painted eggs. If you’re an adult you get shots of really strong liquor. Like I said, I am currently struggling with wanting to experience this and not.

I ruined Christmas. This was hard to swallow. Last week, thanksgiving actually, my “dad” here told me not to ask one of the kids, G, about what he wanted for Christmas. I only asked to start a conversation about something different so he had to use different English words. Well apparently that was a terrible thing to do. In France, father Christmas, or Pere Noel comes and gives gifts but those are the ONLY gifts that the children get. They don’t get anything from grandma or grandpa or aunts or uncles. If they do, technically those come from father Christmas as well. Apparently my asking G about this made him think I was buying him gifts. Honestly, I of course am, but I was really just asking as an English lesson. Well. I ruined Christmas. Culturally this made me think a lot because in America, or at least my family, when I believed in Santa, I still got gifts from my mom and dad and all my other family members. Here, this father Christmas thing kind of makes sense because I feel like the emphasis here is not on material things but experience more than in America. In America we want things and we want all the things. Here they spend money on trips and spending time together. It is quite interesting.

Someone told me I needed to write more and honestly it is kind of hard. The same things happened during the week. I mean I guess in the end it is not always the same. Some days I don’t get spit on and some days I eat too much and some days I have to do a lot of laundry. But generally taking care of children is the same and I guess it is hard to write because I have the experience and then I remember it and file it away and the time passes. When I finally feel inspired to sit and write these half of that goes out the window. I am going to try and remember to write more and more often. I guess I could have some good stories about kids and the things that happen. Mostly my kids are great and they are nice and they don’t do anything to awful or crazy. Their parents are also amazing so it’s not like I am spending all the time with them or having to complain about spending more time with their kids than they do. They are very dedicated people and they WANT to spend time with their kids so they let me off early sometimes and they even help me out when I am supposed to be helping them.

I am going to start another thing on my blog. A short story section on the “trials and tribulations of a fat food lover trying to run”. So many strange things happen when I am running or ideas come to my mind or I learn different things and I feel inclined to share. Everyone should exercise in some form and for me that is currently running. (that and I don’t want to die doing this half marathon, that would be embarrassing and a hassle) I notice here people seem to recognize me running all the time and try to say things to me while I am running. Most of the time I have no idea what they are saying cause I have headphones in blaring some type of offensive hip hop in my ears. Honestly, it’s a good thing cause I probably would only understand 55% of what they say. Going back a bit, if you want to start running get someone to hold you accountable and to check in with. Not only that but research proper running form. I was never, ever a runner. I was a dancer; and my body was not conditioned for this but I find myself being able to run far (last long run was 8.5 miles) and not stop and I find myself thinking about adjustments and making them when my body starts to fail me. This is good for now. I will have other stories. Specially about running in the cold since tonight, Tuesday, is supposed to be the first snow of the season and my “parents” last night said how much you can slip when things get icy. Awesome.

I talked about food last time but I realized there are more things I am eating that I never have before. pâté and foie gras. Also I realized today when I literally ate bread and blue cheese as a snack that there may be no going back for me. I think I wrote about this before but you eat salad here AFTER your meal and cheese is a desert. Cheese is kind of everything. Desert, snack, side dish, for a salad, for bread or even appetizer. They literally have cheese stores on every corner. And so much red wine drinking. Before I moved here I drank one type of red wine and I avoided any others at all cost. Here, it is almost red wine every night.

I have attached some pictures from walking around and a tiny tiny elevator which scared the shit out of me.

Title quote: Took this gem from my dance teacher, Carlos, again. It is by Henry Ford. He really is posting some great stuff on his instagram! Thanks!!