La Campagne (sigh...)

J'adore the French countryside! I went to a little village about 2 1/2 hours south of Bordeaux by car this weekend with my French family and a couple that are good friends of the family. We could see they Pyrenees in the distance! It was so peaceful and picturesque. I felt like I had stepped into a fairy tale. The house belonged to Félix's grandmother and they go there several times a year to relax, including every Christmas. The house is old and beautiful with greenery everywhere. There's a huge attic with a homemade movie theater (a white sheet and projector) and another room with four beds for the kids, I'd guess. Downstairs there's an old piano that doesn't work in the main hallway across from a bookshelf full of old French books. There's a fireplace and rugs everywhere, curtains picked out by my mom and a patio in the back overlooking a field surrounded by the giant trees that Félix grew up climbing. We picked figs together in the back yard and made fig jam. It smelled so good. It's a huge tradition every Fall. We picked over 10 kilos of fresh figs and made tens of jars of jam. We have 21 jars stored in the kitchen now, not to mention the others that the couple have.

We watched the American TV series, Weeds, together at night and it was very interesting to discuss the next day at lunch out in the back yard under the shade of the trees. They asked me about race relations in America and about the problems with suburbia - the supposed American dream. It's difficult to answer those questions and speak for everyone. I grew up in a small town that has all the trappings of suburbia but isn't a suburb of any city, and I know about race relations in America because I have studied it in books and I grew up with the American media, but so did most of my generation around the world I suppose. I have never viscerally witnessed or experienced any overt or explicit racism or sexism of any kind in America. (Egypt is another story.) Yet, I KNOW these problems exist. The same goes for the problems stemming from the conformity and monotony of suburbia... yes, that exists, and yes there weren't too many other options at night in high school other than bowling, the movies and maybe the beach, but I was never suicidal over it. I LOVED my life in high school and I still love Pismo Beach. However, I know that just describing my life doesn't give them the full picture of the American reality. So, I did my best to give a fuller truth. In retrospect, I should have told them more about my life as well, because it's not all problems. I am SO grateful to be born in America, just like they all seem so utterly satisfied to be French. :)

In total, this weekend was a huge breath of fresh air. It was completely relaxing and great for the spirit. I read half of a novel in French and they all helped me with the words I had highlighted in blue on the way home. The book has a lot of slang in it so it was sometimes a rather interesting experience trying to translate, like when they were trying to describe "con" and Félix burst out with "FUCKER". lol. (People write lol here, too. Not sure how that translates into French...)