Monthly Archives: October 2012

As I Was Saying

Posted on October 22, 2012

Hello to dear friends and family –

We are so entirely happy with our new home and our “proprietors,” Monique & Dominiqe, & mother Simone. Here’s Ken with Monique & Dominique in front of the little gallery & theatre, Le Ruban Vert, on the street floor of our building, where Simone, in the gallery, signed her novels for an appreciative crowd.

Ken, Monique & Dominique

This month has been a time of settling in, feeling our attachments grow and deepen, and making plans and travels from the perspective of being residents of France.  We’re no longer just passing through, or just arrived. We actually live here. OMG.

That hit home hard when we made a quick trip to Barcelona, Spain to spend a brief time with dear friends Jeanie and Andy who flew in from San Luis Obispo to meet a cruise ship bound for Greece and Italy.  We hopped in our car in Aix, traveled across the Camargue, through Arles and Nimes, past Montpellier and Perpignan to find our way to an outstanding B&B in the heart of Barcelona.  And it was only five hours door-to-door. Fortunately we arrived on a Saturday afternoon when the streets were quiet, everyone taking a siesta, and we could walk and enjoy the marvelous architecture everywhere.  We had been in Barcelona a few years before on a chilly Christmas Eve, but this day was warm and welcoming.

our room

 

Here’s our lovely room in the B&B “La Belle Epoque 1904.”  Amusingly, as we entered the building, the brass sign on a huge wooden door facing us listed a well-known Traumatologist – What a coincidence!

Jeanie & Andy

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

We spent a wonderful evening with Jeanie and Andy, and the next day we drove about 40kmwest  to Montserrat, a monestary situated high on a rocky promontory, where we heard the famous boy’s choir sing briefly. Ken was able to capture a moment of the music, but it’s difficult to transmit here.

 

The ride to the monestary is by tram/train or telepherique/cable car. Either option is not for the faint-of-heart or those with vertigo!

Because we feel so at home now, Karen at school studying french and Ken exploring a new world in France and neighboring countries we are content to pursue our interests freely.

This week Ken took off for a five-day trip to explore the Swiss Alps and surrounding areas. Hopefully he will soon add some more pictures here, but for now I’ll sign off with a stunning view of the Mont Blanc cable car as it ascends.  Ken was soon in it, going to the top for a little hike !  He came home safely and SweetPea and I were happy to have our family together again.

 

Chamonix cable car

 

The dislocation of language

Posted on October 3, 2012

To live in a new country, whose language is not one’s own, is a dislocating experience. For long moments one becomes mute. For long moments one is regressed, scrambling like a toddler for words that are always out of reach. The relief of joy can come from the very simple pleasure of discovering just one word, or one phrase, that can be recognized by a new friend, a teacher, a shopkeeper.

Everyday tasks and pleasures are magnified, sometimes with resulting delight, sometimes with dismay. For Ken, navigating the rules of golf associations and tournaments in France is daunting.  For instance, we just learned that in order to enter competitions and have one’s score count, a doctor must sign a form attesting to your health & fitness to play.  It’s all a bit confusing but will soon get sorted out.

Golf took us up to Grenoble this past weekend, a drive of about three and a half hours, where Ken competed in a tournament on Sunday. I had hoped to bring back photos of the alps to share, but alas it rained the whole weekend and we only saw the barest outline of the mountains which surround this famous ski area. Nevertheless, we had a good time, even in the rain, and enjoyed wonderful french cuisine in our hotel and in little restaurants in the surrounding area.  Happily I played nine holes of golf yesterday here at a local course, and it’s wonderful that SweetPea can go along in the cart, enjoying the sunshine and taking in the autumn smells of the falling leaves and earth wet from the recent rain.

My studies at the language school have become more intense.  The profs have decided that we are no longer “debutantes” and accordingly expect a great deal from us in the way of homework and rapid-fire responses in class.  I keep waiting for a break-through in my ability to speak.  Alas, I’ll have to wait a bit longer!  It seems that in my class of ten, we have all reached about the same state at the same time. We look like a nervous gathering of deer, caught in the high beam headlights of an oncoming car, knowing we must do something – but unable to move or utter a sound.

Even the language of the birds is different here. My windows are open wide just now as I write, letting in the afternoon sun. A gentle wind carries into my room a plaintive, insistent song of a bird that I’ve never heard before. There’s no doubt it’s seeking a response, but none is forthcoming. Now it has flown away.

Tonight I will go to the little theatre/gallery called Le Ruban Vert that is on the street level floor of our apartment building, and is run by Isabelle, the daughter of our landlords, Monique & Dominique. The program tonight is a booksigning by Simone Guerin, Monique’s 91 year old mother. Simone and some of the actresses from the theatre group will read from Simone’s newest novel.  Simone lives on the floor just below us, and Monique and Dominique just below that.  As I’ve mentioned before, this wonderful 18th century building has been in Monique’s family for six generations, and there continue to be four generations at play here.  Tomorrow night, at the same theatre, we will go to hear a concert of gypsy music!

In my mind are many indelible pictures.  I hope we’ll have more photos to post in the next installment of this blog.  Everything is picturesque, and it’s hard to grab the moment to snap the photo. Until the next time, we send our love to all our family and friends.   karen