"Amen" is always the same

Peur du jour- 20 Mai 2012: German Mass

About four months ago, I went to my first mass in French. And I was terrified. On my morning walk to mass in the small Bavarian town of Lupburg, I experienced similar anxiety. Only this time, I was going to mass in a language which I don't speak at all (other than ein bier, bitte or danke or tschüss). Luckily, God blessed me with a few German friends in Montpellier who helped me prepare for this very mass.

In comparison with what I came to know in France, German mass much more closely resembles American mass.

• It has the same sense of order concerning the procession for the Eucharist, the kneeling/sitting/standing business, and the communication of hymnal pages (they had a cool light up board in the front of the church so I didn't even have to try to interpret numbers!). This organization does not surprise me at all; I've already waxed poetic about the trains. 

German Church in Lupburg

French Cathedral in Montpellier

• The architectural style is completely different from what I experienced in France. White walls instead of stone; natural light instead of colored.

• Similar demographics. There were lots of children and families (so I definitely didn't feel like an outlier skewing the average age). This is likely because Catholicism is a lot stronger in this region. In Bavaria, I see the stations of the cross along the walking trails. In Montpellier, it seemed like more people were "PACS"ed (a type of civil union) than were married.

But I also noticed some differences:

• Much less singing than in American or French masses.
• Like French mass, worship is more personal (vs. communal) in the manner that no one holds hands during the "Our Father" and the exchange of peace seemed to be confined to those sitting only to your left and to your right. I think this probably goes back to the fact that Americans tend to be much more touchy-feely.
• Mass in general seemed to be a little more formal. There's the manner of dressing which in general tends to be less casual in Europe. Also, I noticed that everyone in mass always had their hands folded in prayer which seems a little stricter than the US and far stricter than France.

So I think that in addition to having caught the travel bug this semester, I've caught the Catholic-comparison bug. It's so incredible to me how the slight variations in the rhythm and customs of a mass can be such a manifestation of regional and national culture. I can't wait to keep exploring, but in the mean time, I'd love to hear about your experiences in masses around the world in the comments!

Sorry, friends

The latter end of this week has been very busy! I had lots of papers to turn in and tests to take, I have been preparing for my two weeks of vacation (get excited!), and, most importantly, I have been preparing for Easter with the various masses and vigils that take place this week in the Catholic Church.

Long story short, I will probably not be updating for the next two weeks (Because I'm not positive of when I will have access to internet/a computer). I am leaving tomorrow after Easter mass to visit family friends in Villefrance-sur-mer (a town near Nice... yes, I'm going back to Nice!) for a week and then I will spend five days in Paris!

So I wish you all a very Happy Easter, and a great next two weeks. I wish you could be with me, and not doing whatever else you are doing: exams, work, other boring American stuff. And of course, I will return with plenty of stories and pictures (I'll try to be a little less overwhelmed in recounting them this time...).

Gros bisous!

PS) Check out how beautiful it was today:

A fountain in the Antigone area of town (this is the beginning of my running route!)

Winged Victory- There are replicas of awesome art EVERYWHERE

The new tram lines 3 and 4 opened this weekend. This is tram 4, designed by French fashion designer M. Christian Lacroix)

Dancin' in the streets

Peur du jour: 1 Avril 2012: Flash mob

First things first, FLASH MOB (this is how the French say it too!). I have always wanted to be in one (it's on my bucket list actually), and I can't believe I got the opportunity to do it in France. It wasn't exactly what I had always pictured in my head; in many ways it was better!
 

One of the girls from La Source choreographed it, we learned it, and then we taught it to the other aumôneries (church groups) at the Catholic Conference. We performed it after la messe de rameaux (Palm Sunday) as a surprise for the local parishioners. So, it was fairly private as flash mobs go, but it was still great. Once I get the video and pictures I will be sure to put it up!

Practicing for our flash mob

I think what I liked most about it was that it was a flash mob for the glory of God. I can't think of a better purpose to dance like a fool in broad daylight.

Suzanne and Colette jammin' on the keyboard

Another few dancing/music highlight of my week were:

1.  Being in a conga line between a nun and a monk. Catholics know how to party.
2. Kind of awkward slow-jam keyboard percussion beats during evening prayer.
3. Learning Senegalese hymns!  This link is maybe the cutest thing ever. The song basically says: "I praise you with my mouth. If I don't have a mouth, I praise you with my feet. If I don't have feet, I praise you with my heart. If I don't have a heart, it's because I'm praising you in heaven."
4. Holding back laughter with a friend during mass because of the formerly noted awkward slow-jam keyboard percussion beats.  

The wonderful South-African choir that performed all weekend!

Sur la route! (On the road!)

Peur du jour- 31 Mars 2012: Orienteering

This weekend I went to Perpignan with some of my fellow Catholic students from La Source. The weekend was great, but our journey was not without its detours and scenic routes.

We traveled en voiture (by car) from Montpellier to Baixas, France (about 2 hours). All together we had four cars; I traveled with two people with whom I have fostered great friendships, Clément and Judith. Since we left at around 11:30, of course we (the whole group of about 20 people) stopped for a picnic lunch at a rest area (oh, France). It was also there that we practiced for the flashmob (more about that later!).

Clément, Judith, et moi!

After the picnic was where things started to get wonky. Because suddenly, we were no longer traveling in a caravan and I turned into the navigator. Now, normally I feel pretty confident as the navigator (my summer working as a canvasser helped with this), but there's just something different about navigating in a foreign country. Things aren't QUITE the same.

So I made two mistakes:

1) we missed an exit because the number on the paper and the number on the sign didn't match up (silly, Kathleen, expecting things like that to line up). In France, you more follow the town names on the signs than the exit numbers or route numbers. Il n'y avait pas mort d'homme (it wasn't the end of the world), but we did have to drive around for a little bit before we could get back on the same direction

2) I had us get off too early (trying to compensate for my previous blunder). This one was slightly more problematic, because after we got back in the right direction, we were completely turned around. Roundabouts are quite disorienting. We soon found ourselves pulled over on the side of the road with the tank nearly empty. After a quick phone call, we got some directions for the backgrounds and were on our way. But there were a few stressful moments thrown in there.

But sometimes the scenic route is better. Especially with views like this:

My view of the Pyrénées while walking through vineyards at sunrise the next morning

And we decided that you can never go wrong when you're being guided by the Saint Esprit.

Another awesome weekend

Okay, so je suis crevée after this weekend and I cannot bring myself to stay awake to blog about it. I promise blog posts in the days to come! I went to Perpignan for a Catholic conference for the youth of the region and it was just fantastic. Two things:

1) This weekend I had a lot of people say "I just love your accent" or "I find your accent so endearing" which kind of broke my heart. I was so hoping to not have an accent.. Ca arrive... (it happens...)

2)  Sneak peak!

Baixas, France by sunrise

This is what to expect from "une grillade" (a cookout) in France: grilled sausages on baguettes and muscat wine.

A tout!

PS) It can't seriously already be April, right? Is that the April fools joke? That it's not actually April yet?

You're never fully dressed without a smile

Peur du jour- 26 Mars 2012- Flashin' the pearly whites

Today I had a bizarre encounter with an old Arab man on the bus on the way back from volunteering at the lycée. I was staring out the window, lost in my head and minding my own business when I felt three strong taps on my shoulder. As I turned around I half expected to be someone from UNC or my church group (I had already run into a friend at the TAM office earlier this morning!), but to my surprise, it was a stranger. In my head, I have named him Monsieur Ibrahim and our conversation was as follows:

Ibrahim: You look very upset.
Me: Pardon?
I: You look like someone has made you angry.
Me: No, I'm not angry at all.
I: Well you look very upset.
M: No, I'm not upset, just pensive.  
I: Well, you have an air of being very upset. Your fiancé didn't just leave you, I trust?
M: [stammering stupidly]
I: Oh, you don't have a fiancé?
M: No, I don't have a fiancé.
I: Is that why you're upset? I bet you'll have a fiancé, a pretty girl like you.
M: Thank you, but I'm not upset.
I: Well you should smile! Life is too short to be upset. And I bet you'll find your fiancé.

Bizarre.

While I definitely was not upset on the bus, I was kind of in the midst of worrying about things. Worrying about my lack of summer job/internship, worrying about my life after college, worrying about how my aversion to the pursuit of money may not be entirely practical, worrying about how much life back home has changed, worrying about how I'm going to shape French-Kathleen back with American-Kathleen. Worrying, worrying, worrying.

 And this little interaction was a bit of a splash of cold water.

Life is too short to spend time worrying. Nothing under His control is out of control. And for that, I'll smile.

PS) Talk about a cultural contradiction. This time the goofy American golden retriever was picked out for NOT smiling.

Stage fright

Peur du jour: 25 Mars 2012- Public Speaking

So today we began daylight savings time in France-land (goodbye five hour difference between me and Carolina basketball, hello one hour less of sleep!). And, like anyone who is over reliant on technology to give her the time, I missed morning mass. (I thought that turning my cell phone off and turning back on around six in the morning would change it to the right time.. it didn't). But I took it as a sign that I wasn't meant to go to morning mass at St. Denis, and instead decided that I would go to evening mass at St. Bernadette which was being organized by La Source.

So I got to the church early to help prepare for the mass however I could. Part of this was organizing la quête (the collection) and the other part of this was doing a reading for mass. I had been asked in a different church to do the reading back in my first few weeks of being in Montpellier, but I was too much of a scaredy-cat to do it. This time was different. Sort of.

I've never really been one to get stage fright. In fact, I love to perform. I love giving speeches in class, performing in plays, and singing and playing my saxophone for an audience. But for whatever reason, I was really nervous to do this. I felt a little better after reading through the passage and seeing that there were no funky words (even in English, there are words and lots of names that I stumble over), but my heart was still hammering as I approached the alter.

And then I realized that I was just going to do my best and that my best would have to be enough. So what if I'm not a native French speaker? So what if my accent isn't perfectly perfect all the time? I'm not willing to let my fears/apprehensions hold me back from contributing.

And I actually think it went pretty well!

As Usher would say: these are my confessions

Peur du jour- 22 Mars 2012: Confession

So, I'll just be honest. Confession is something that still kind of causes me to get stressed out. I didn't grow up doing it, which means the first time that I went I was a wreck. I probably gave myself a week of reconnaissance work:
1) I scoped out the church ahead of time to make sure I knew where the confessional was
2) Then I did research online about the dialogue to say.
3) Then I went to a week day mass to observe what others did before and after they went to confession.

I was like Nancy Drew, man.

So since confession is something that I had not decided to do regularly until this past year, I still am a little apprehensive when I go. And never in a million years did I ever think that I'd be confessing in French. From not knowing the script to not ever thinking about that kind of vocabulary to imagining how hard it would be to have a conversation in French in a muffled and dark compartment (having French phone conversations is still a somewhat painful experience), the excuses that I could come up with were as abundant as Abraham's descendents.

But last night at La Source, that's what the theme was-- confession. So I swallowed my uncertainties and went for it. Confession in this context was way more casual than anything I'd ever experienced in the US. First of all, there was no confessional. It was just me sitting with the priest (this may have been because it was a special mass and a special group... but I'm not sure). Also, there was no script. No "forgive me father for I have sinned", no statement of how long it had been since my last time. I asked the Priest how I should start, having explained that I was American and had never confessed in French before, and he told me to be honest and sincere and jump right in.

This experience was totally nothing like I was expecting it to be. I'm also so glad I had the courage to just go for it. And if ever you're a little apprehensive about going to confession, take heart; if I can do it in French, you can do it in English!

Communion wine is better in France

Peur du jour- 18 Mars 2012: Branching out

It's so easy to get into a routine (well, for me). For me it's so easy to find little excuses to just stick to what I know. But tonight I decided to try a new church (gutsy, I know). A friend that I made last weekend on the retreat lives with the Dominican monks in Montpellier and he said that the mass there is really fantastic. Luckily, it's not too far from where I live and the time more or less worked with my schedule (we eat dinner at 20h00 every night).

So Beth and I ventured to this church to try something new. And it was maybe the best church I've been to in Montpellier. There was an interesting juxtaposition of medieval architecture and contemporary art. The choir was FANTASTIC and the way that the voices just filled the barrel vaulting of the church was truly incredible. Also the wine at communion was out of this world (it is the blood of Christ, after all). I actually have not seen wine at communion since I've been to France and I usually don't even take the wine because I'm such a germaphobe (but my friend jokingly said that the Dominicans have the best communion wine around, so I figured I had to partake).

Also, it the bulletin there were plenty of concerts and lectures advertised which would be really fun to see! This week there is a contemporary organ and saxophone concert with a saxophonist who is apparently renowned in Montpellier. There's also a big choral concert next Sunday.

All in all, it was a very good choice to branch out. Lesson learned.

Saint-Guilhem-le-Désert

Peur du weekend- 9 Mars - 11 Mars: Weekend retreat

I just had one of my favorite experiences in France thus far!

This weekend, I went on a weekend retreat through the Eglise Saint Bernadette where I participate in the youth group that I go to each Thursday night. We went to Saint-Guilhem-le-desert which is an INCREDIBLE town perched in the "high valley" of the Herault region. Our group of 10 (of whom I knew only the priest) stayed in a Carmelite Monastery in this small pilgrimage town. It was the first time in my life I'd ever been on an overnight retreat and I'm so glad I made the decision to go. I was nervous because I wasn't really sure what I was getting myself into on a lot of fronts, but, as is often the case, everything turned out even better than I expected.

Here are some highlights:

1) Spending a whole weekend (except for a period of maybe half an hour) speaking in French! Nothing beats being surrounded with native speakers and not even having the option of speaking in English (though it seemed like some of my new friends liked to throw out the English words they knew every once in awhile). It's also really encouraging that I had three different people on three different occasions tell me how impressed they were with my French. I even made witty in-the-moment jokes (hey, it's hard when you do a grammar check on everything you say before you say it). And everyone laughed!

2)  My first car ride in France. Maybe this isn't that exciting... but it was pretty cool to watch the French countryside rolling by with my hand out the window (in the wind)!

3) My first traditional French meal experience. So a lot of the other American students here live with families that like to feed them a lot EVERY night. You've got the entrée and then the salad and then the plat and then the fromage and then the dessert. I've heard stories about where some of my friends have just had to go lay motionless on their bed after dinner because they were served so much food and their host families encouraged them to eat all of it. Luckily I was not rendered immobile by any of my meals, but I did have an oh-my-gosh-when-is-this-meal-going-to-end-?!?! moment (and laughed silently to myself when it happened). It was a good cultural experience eat the French way, even if it was just for a weekend. Here's a rough outline of how nearly every French person eats:

• Breakfast: tartine (bread with butter and confiture), coffee or tea or juice, fruit
• Lunch: Appetizer, main course, cheese course, dessert
• 4pm snack: fruit, yogurt, etc.
• Dinner: ...this one I'm a little confused about because I had always thought French people ate lighter for dinner, but our dinner on Saturday night was just as large as the lunch.

4) My first French "jeu de société" (board game). I am such a board game-a-holic. So when the first night I realized that playing a French board game would be our getting to know you activity I was INSTANTLY hooked. I tried to politely veto anything that was American ( they love Monopoly and Scrabble and all the stuff that we play) and we finally landed on something called Le Village. The premise is that a small village is infested with les loup-garous (werewolves) and you are trying to figure out who is who. It was really super fun (especially because we were playing in the dark with only the light of a crackling, cozy fire). I was even elected mayor one round and successfully found out the werewolves in two swift turns (because my powers of deduction and perception are excellent) with no accidental villager casualties. Bravo is what they said to me.

5) Making animal friends. I don't think I've ever seen so many friendly animals in a town ever.

Exhibit A (this looks like my kitty!):

 Exhibit B (this little guy followed me around for awhile and is perched on my leg in this picture):

 Exhibit C:
Saturday night we went to evening prayer with the Carmelite nuns in the main Church in Saint Guilhem. In the middle of the whole thing I hear this pitiful yowling coming from behind me where the main entrance is. Sure enough, a little orange striped cat wanders over to me. I can't help but pet it which I guess was an instant invitation to jump in my lap. I've never had a cat purring in my lap during church before. It was kind of awesome.

6) Hiking to somewhere that seems inconceivably high.

This is my view from above: (you can see part of the foot trail winding down into the village which is on the left)

This is me, perched in the ruins of an old castle:

 I saved this for last... do you see that tiny castle-looking thing on the very last cliff (roughly the center of the picture)?

Yeah. I climbed there. And there wasn't really a path. And I did it in oxford flats (which was stupid, but I got locked out of the monastery because I was REALLY late coming back from personal prayer time, so I couldn't change my shoes).



I have so many more stories to tell, but I feel that this has reached a sufficient length. The last thing I'll say is that this weekend was so much more than just a weekend of cultural and language growth and getting to see a cool little French village. I grew so much spiritually and was really happy to devote an entire weekend doing nothing but praying and reflecting and reading the Bible and devoting my time to God. I'm so delighted to haven partaken in this and can't wait to put into action everything I have learned!

Overnight adventures

Peur du jour- 6 Mars 2012: Finding a sleeping bag

There are a lot of things that I didn't foresee needing in France:

• Winter jacket (I promise this isn't another post about being cold)
•  My academic worksheet (#facepalm)
• Tissues (because, like toilet seats, this is considered unnecessary in public bathrooms)
• A bigger memory card
• My wonderful snuggie!
• Envelopes (for sending letters and insurance claims-more about this after it is completely resolved)
• Sleeping bag

Some of these things I've gone without. Some of these things have been purchased or sent to me. But for the sleeping bag, I had to do a little digging. After a slew of emails and Facebook messages with my French friends, I finally found one to borrow!

And why, you may ask, might I need un sac de couchage? Well, my friends, I am going on a retreat this weekend to Saint-Guilhem-le-Désert. I'm so excited for a weekend of nothing but French and prayer (and maybe even prayer in French? I've gotten to that level of competency yet) in this beautiful medieval village which used to be a stop on the pilgrimage route to Santiago de Compostella.

 Lots of stories to follow!


PS) I've started keeping track of my French Taste-bud Adventures for those who are interested!

You've got "une amie" in me

Alright, I've been remiss. Tuesday and Wednesday were uneventful and then Thursday was jam packed:

• 3h00: Wake up in a groggy haze, feeling like death to watch the UNC-d00k game
• 4h30: Feeling good about our performance after halftime
• 5h15: Go to back to bed mildly depressed
• 8h30: Wake up and kick box
• 10h30: Leave the house to head over to Lycée Jules Guesde (that middle s is silent... weird) to volunteer
• 15h15: Class
• 18h30: Leave the house to go to La Source (my worship group)
• 23h30: Get home, collapse in bed

 Fear has not really been an issue in my life this week, so instead I'll give you five reasons why having a French friends is awesome.

1. An opportunity to parler en français!
2. If someone uses a word I don't understand, I can ask for an explanation
3. An opportunity to practice bises (I really hope I am getting less awkward at it...) 
4. They can introduce me to more French people and French things!
5. They really  make me want to get better at French so I can talk more with them!

Also, they are not just amazing because they are French, but because they are truly some of the nicest, warmest, friendliest, most welcoming people I have ever met. I have also realized that I enjoy their company so much because I'm just me. There are no pretenses. I don't know what's "cool" so I don't have to worry about acting that way. I've accepted my goofy American-ness (which is just how I am in general), so there's no pressure to "fit in." I hope I can bring this back with me.

Chandaleur

Peur du jour- 2 fevrier 2012- Speaking up

So yesterday was a low point. And today was a high point!

Beth and I went to the student mass at the Catholic church near UPV. It was wonderful! Today is the Presentation of Jesus at the Temple and is a holiday known as Chandaleur in France. Most of the secular French celebrate la fête des crêpes by eating lots and lots of crêpes. At the Catholic mass, we did it a little bit differently (but don't worry, I still ate three crêpes for dinner).

The evening started with a wonderful candle light procession outside. It was pretty cold (side note: it snowed again today :), but very moving and meaningful. Then we had mass and a period of meditation before heading to a rec-room in a different building to have discussion in small groups. During the small groups was where I had my peur du jour moment. We were talking about some pretty intimate faith life things and I wanted to say something but my language-apprehension was holding me back. And then I just blurted it out and gave away our American-ness (which was a GOOD thing because after small group several people asked us where we were from).

Dinner was my favorite part because it's where we met so many wonderful people of all ages. Beth and I sat down next to some people that we thought looked friendly and, not that I'm counting my chickens, but I think we made some pretty awesome friends tonight (two of whom are English majors and speak English SO very well). We laughed at jokes in both languages and ate soup and loaded crepes with nutella and drank cider and had a jolly good time. I can't wait to go back.

Bottom line: Good things are worth speaking up for. Good things are worth waiting for. Good things are truly a gift from God.

Just keep swimming

Peur du jour- 27 Janvier 2012- Being Persistent

I was too excited to not share this information right away!

Today after my art history class at la fac (short for la faculté des lettres or another way to say UPV) I decided to just poke around the church until I found someone to love me. My emails were going unanswered and I just wanted an answer: can I find a home here?

The answer: Yes!

I knocked on the office door of a very kindly old priest and I explained who I was and what I was looking for (a group of Catholics to know in Montpellier, because I am an American far from home). He walked me over to a building behind the church where I met two older women to whom I then again explained my story. And huzzah! I found it. Where all of the catholic students have been hiding (not really, I'm just feeling a little silly right now).

This group does at least one event a week including student masses, dinners, and it even looks like I might be able to worm my way into a retreat in March! I was invited to go skiing in February (but it's the weekend I will be celebrating carnaval in Nice, so I had to politely decline).

I'm really hoping this works out. It would be so nice to feel like I am a part of this town and not just living here for four months. I will definitely keep you updated and I have high hopes that God is nudging me in the right direction!


The bottom line: Don't give up!

One God

Peur du jour: 8 Janvier 2012- Going to Mass in French

Wow. Just wow.

Mass is something that I know so well. I've been to mass nearly every holy day of obligation (Sundays and religious holidays) since I was born and even more than that when I went to Catholic school or when I have decide to go to weekday masses. We know the prayers, we know when to stand and sit and kneel, we know the songs (does this kind of stuff still freak you out, Lilli?). We Catholics went through a bit of a shock with the new translation of the liturgy, but even after a month of that it felt comfortable for me.

So here I am in a new church in a new city in a new country. The organ is playing and my friend and I found the sheets that had all of the lyrics to the songs and prayers for the day and everything seems good. Then the cantor starts speaking. And, of course, it's in French (go figure). In addition to the obvious language difference, the following stood out to me:

1. The place was empty: I am used to nearly always full churches (if you get there late, you don't have a seat, or at least not a good one). We got to the church 10 minutes early and there were maybe 20 other people there. People continued filing in until around the gospel, but it still was not anything close to the size to which I am accustomed. To give you an idea: they only needed two people to hand out the Eucharist and it took way less time that the Eucharist does in the American churches to which I have been.
   
   This is perhaps because of the time of day we chose to go. My friend and I were occupied at the most popular mass time here (11:30 AM) because we had been part of a group invited for an apératif with a charming Irish-French photographer, Claude, who graciously welcomed those of Irish descent into his home. We decided to go to the 18h00 mass on Sunday evening. My host mother told me that the morning masses are much more populated and lively.
   
   That being said, Catholicism is really in trouble in France. The shortage of priests seems to be exaggerated in this Protestant city. The church I went to today shares its priests with another cathedral in centre-ville. In addition to the lack of priests, my host mother told me there is a lack of parishioners as well. I'm not sure if it's just because the Catholics in Montpellier were unsuccessful in the Wars of Religion or if this is pretty indicative of the state of Catholicism in France. It was definitely a shock for me coming from an area of the United States with large and quickly growing Hispanic-Catholic population.
2. 
   
3. The church was clearly trying to economize: One big thing was that there was no wine at communion (which I found odd in wine country). The church was pretty dark as well (but it was old and perhaps they were trying to preserve the authenticity of the building). The church was also cold (it seems to me like most of the churches I frequent are pretty liberal with the heat and air conditioning). Also absent were the luxurious pews and kneelers. I guess in America we like our comfort because the seating arrangement in this church was rows of wooden chairs and a wooden kneeler that couldn't be rotated away from the floor (I probably looked like an idiot stumbling around the kneeler on the cobblestone floor in my high heeled boots).
   
   It's hard to tell if this was a part of the French being concerned with gaspillage (waste), the culture of going to mass in an old cathedral, or something else all together.
4. I was pretty confused at communion: America is the land of lines. We line up for everything (I love it). I had never considered that other churches might choose a less organized way to do communion. Instead of going pew by pew in an orderly fashion to walk to the front of the church, everyone seemed to just stand up at the same time and head for the priests. This put me in the awkward position of merging into the line to receive the body of Christ. "Pardon..Merci" Not a big deal, but just... different.

Some other church related things

• I definitely got my first whiff of the French body odor sitting so close to the natives. Stinky or not, we are all God's children.
• Tonight at dinner I had le galette des rois (King Cake) which is a cake served during the Epiphany (today). It's also served in some regions for Mardi Gras (which is when I have had it before--Jess and Sam had mad baking skills in high school!) Usually a trinket or a Baby Jesus is hidden in the cake and whoever gets the piece with the trinket is king for the day. In  my adventures today I saw a number of children walking around with crowns on their head (a clear sign that they had been the lucky winners!) It was almond flavored and très delicieux
• I felt the strongest surge of community when we did the Latin part of mass. There's just something about knowing that every Catholic in the world says "Amen" and sings "Gloria" and "Hosana" Super cool. 
• We "tutoyer" God. In French, like in Spanish (and Portuguese and Italian I would presume), there are both a formal and informal version of the second person. In French "tu" is familiar and "vous" is formal. Vouvoyer is the verb which means to use vous with someone. Tutoyer is the verb which means to use the tu form with someone. For example, when I first used "vous" with my host mother she said "tu peux me tutoyer" (you can use "tu" with me). Vous is used with people who are older than you, people in places of authority, strangers of whom you may want to be respectful or are meeting for the first time. I found it so interesting that the French tutoyent God. It seems like if anyone should receive the respectful vous, it would be Him. But, maybe vous would indicate some sort of barrier between God and his followers. The use of tu is perhaps meant to illustrate our friendship and intimacy with God.

The bottom line: Church isn't about the buildings or the individual differences; it's about the people, the community. Awkward situations, body odor, and foreign languages aren't nearly enough to keep me from worshiping in God's house. Besides, I spend approximately 1 hour of my week worshiping in a church and the other 167 hours worshiping elsewhere.

The Churches I plan to check out (tonight was at St. Denis):

Carré Saint-Anne

Cathédral St. Pierre de Montpellier (better pictures to come, I promise)

Cathédral St. Roch