"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!

St. Jean Cap Ferrat: Where dreams come true

Peur du jour- 14 Avril 2012: Jumpin' on the back of a moped

So it was definitely on my unofficial bucket list to ride on a moped while in France. I guess it's kind of silly, but, like snails and frogs legs and accordion music and berets and baguettes, it's just something I associate with France. And I want to do everything French (even the things that are quasi-french).

So when Marc and Tammy found this out, they wanted to make sure I got to do it! It rained a lot of the week, so we kept putting it off for Saturday when the weather was supposed to be nice.

It rained all day Saturday.

I was trying to be cheerful, but I just knew I wasn't going to get to do my moped ride (I'm so silly, I know!). But finally, as the day was drawing to a close, I asked if it would still be possible despite the rain. And Marc was kind enough to humor me and take me for my ride. We rode around St.Jean Cap Ferrat looking at the beaches and all of the fancy houses (Paul Allen has a house there!).

And even though my face was being pelted with rain, it was still really fun to buzz around the winding mountain roads with an unobstructed view of the sea. And I looked pretty cute in the helmet.

Not quite marching band

Cultural Lesson # 4: Fanfare

 So, I had always learned that the French word for Marching Band was "fanfare." This word pleased me (hello, French syntax!), because it brought to mind images of valiant trumpet-bearing soldiers marching down the Champs Elysées. But, when I first saw a fanfare in France, I realized that, while the two groups have similar spirit, they are not quite the same.

This is from a music and lights festival in the Cartier de Beaux Arts

A fanfare, as I have come to experience and understand it, is a type of street band. A lot of the times they'll wear silly costumes (I think that my pictures were taken on a fire & ice theme night). They have pep-band instruments (trumpets, trombones, sousaphones, clarinets, saxophones, and a drum set). They also play "popular" music. I put popular in quotes because I heard Rock Lobster at least twice (that's for you, Tim!). They also played a lot of 90s grunge music. This may have just been the repertoire of this particular group.

You can see some of the silly clothing people were wearing in this picture

 The pictures I have aren't wonderful for a few reasons. This was back in January when I was still terrified of being mugged at any given moment (thanks to our program leader, for that pep talk). But also because there was a delightful man who was way past inebriated who was swaggering around our group the whole night. It was a bit of a challenge to keep out of his way when he would fall backwards like a tree that's just received the final blow from an axe. There were several men who tried to relocate him to sit down a park bench, but he wouldn't have it. His belligerence was a telling sign of his love for Rock Lobster and fanfares.

We could not figure out why, but there were feathers EVERYWHERE

 

 Ignore the images on the video, this is just to give you a taste of what it sounded like. They had been playing for awhile and it was pretty cold, but you can tell that this group is a casual, just-for-fun thing. Definitely can't stand up to the Pride of the ACC.

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?

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!

Le marchée

I've decided that in addition to my "peur du jour"s I'm going to mix in some cultural lessons for everyone!

 Cultural Lesson #1: French Markets

Today's lesson is (as the title indicates) about French markets (pronounced mar-SHAY). Since I don't drink coffee and try not to blow my budget on French pastries and wine, going to the market is the thing I do that makes me feel the most French. Every Saturday morning I get up early (for a Saturday in France) to go to le marchée des arceux (the market that is under the arches of the aqueduct). Because I live in centre-ville and the market is just outside of the main part of town, I get to observe the activity in Montpellier during my 15 minute walk.

La place de la comédie

I always see something noteworthy while walking through the place de la comédie (the heart of town). This morning I heard a fanfare (I'll probably do a cultural lesson about this later) playing. Other times there will be protests, street performers, and other colorful manifestations of human activity (like the gypsy petting zoo). While walking through le jardin de Peyrou, I'm usually always harangued by someone trying to get me to sign something or give them money. You'd think that, as a university student, I would be used to this and would be skilled at avoiding interaction with these people. However, I've found that people who want something from you are a lot more aggressive in France. One time a gypsie girl saw me from across the park and made a beeline for me. She was only about 10 or 11, so I wasn't too concerned. But as I said "merci" and stuck my hand out like a stop sign (I learned from my Northern friends that this is a very French thing to do), she latched on to my elbow and would not let go. I literally had to shake her off. I felt bad because she was so young, but at the same time, it's definitely NOT okay to physically interact with someone like that...

Jardin de Peyrou (beware of gypsie girls!)

Now to the fun part! The market! I've already talked about the market in Arles (which is the biggest of it's kind in France, or at least in the South of France). Montpellier's Saturday market may be smaller, but it's of no lesser quality! Every time, I wander to the same stand at the opposite end of the market to buy apples and carrots for the week.

Under these arches, the vendors set up their stands!

During this journey, one thing I love to do is close my eyes and guess which stands I'm passing (I can ALWAYS guess the olives). In my head I'm always drafting detailed descriptions (and sometimes even poetry) of what I'm experiencing, so today I decided to stop to note some of the things that I find the most striking. I always marvel at the seas of olives whose scent I drown in, the chickens whose necks and clawed feet still dangle from their bodies and the rabbits whose eyes watch over the passersby, the piles of fresh, crusty bread, miles of fresh cheese pressed with rosemary and thyme, a rainbow of homemade jams, yards of sausage in curled heaps, burlap sacks brimming with dried herbs and spices, hills of lettuce and radishes, apples in every color, crates upon crates of pears and oranges, row after row of strawberry cartons, pyramids of fresh farm eggs, succulent pastries and cakes heaped with chocolate and fruit, a jungle of fresh-cut and potted flowers, canopies of scarves and cloth, and beaches of jewelry that glitter in the sunlight.

And the people are usually just as interesting. There is always the Arab man with his cart selling mint tea, a man playing the ukulele, puppeteers with marionettes, and a number of people soliciting religious and political causes.

Now, markets are a huge cultural thing for a lot of reasons. The first reason being that food is life in France. Meals are less about "nourishing" as we tend to think of them in America and more about "sharing" and "enjoying." I tend a be a I-eat-what-is-put-in-front-of-me type of person. But my host mother always talks about how you shouldn't eat something unless it really brings you pleasure to eat it (I agree to a certain extent, but I don't think she's ever had to eat dining hall food). But in seeing food differently, I think the French take a lot more pride in buying the best ingredients (which of course come from the markets and not the SUPERmarkets). Of course, I know this exists in the US as well (the best corn in the world is sold at the Grayslake farmer's market... yum!), but it's just such a part of mainstream culture here.

Another reason that markets are culturally significant is that they are such a smorgasbord (had to use spell check for that word) of regionally distinct products. I've tried to buy only local products while in France (I figure that I can eat Brazilian bananas in the United States) which is easy to do at the markets. There are all sorts of French,  Mediterranean, and middle eastern (which really is a part of the culture here) specialties. I like to taste the different olives and cookies and breads; I'll even occasionally buy something for lunch from the market (my eye is on the paella for next time!). Not only is each stand brimming with edible cultural manifestations, but also each vendor is brimming with knowledge. When the market's not very busy (which is not often now that le grand froid is over), I love to talk to the vendors about their food! They're so proud of what they do and are always happy to share knowledge with a bright-eyed bushy-tailed American student.

Markets are one thing I'm really going to miss about France!

Flamingos and horses and beaches, oh my!

Peur du jour- 17 Mars 2012: Solo Adventure

Happy Saint Patrick's Day! I'm positive this day means absolutely nothing in France (except for people who just want an excuse to do something festive at an Irish Pub). The past few years I've spent Saint Patrick's day in Chicago, so it's kind of a big change for me to not be walking next to a green river and weaving through the green waves of people who have been drinking since 8 AM.

I decided to celebrate Saint Patrick's day by biking to Palavas-Les-Flots, a little beach town just south of Montpellier. I sprained my foot last week and have had to take a forced hiatus from running, so a nice long bike ride was just what my body had been craving. After packing my lunch and a few calls to some of the girls in my group who were familiar with the Velomagg system, I was ready to go! Vélomagg (vélo = bike, magasin = store) is like Bikeshare in the US. I got the bike for four hours for 1€, which is not bad at all! The bike itself was not very fancy, but it served its purpose. It only had three gears, but it did have a bell (which I could never convince my mom to let me have on my bike)!

My trusty steed

The ride there was really nice. The trail, which follows the river, is in great condition in most sections. I did get a little confused when I had to take a detour which was not super obvious. I was riding along and then came around a blind turn and nearly ran into a barrier announcing construction. Luckily I found the yellow arrows pointing me to Palavas. The detour lead through an area with a bunch of condos, and not a lot of sidewalk space. I was trying to keep my promise to my dad that I would stay off the roads (and away from the crazy Medi drivers), but the narrow sidewalks were not kind to me. At one point I had to choose between a thorn bush and a street sign and in my inability to make a decision, I ran into both. Graceful. But I kept my promise, dad! Suffice it to say, I was happy to find the bike trail again. Throughout the rest of the ride, I saw a lot of horses (and even made friends with a few of them!). 

This guy walked right up to me when I made my horse-clicking noises, but wanted nothing to do with the carrots I brought especially for him!

Where the Lez River meets the Mediterranean Sea, it feeds into many marshes and bogs. It was very similar to the Camargue region that I saw when I visisted Arles and Saintes-Maries-de-la-Mer. This type of terrain is, of course, abundant with wildlife. In addition to seeing a lot of herons and cranes, I even saw some wild flamingos!

Not something that I see everyday!

Flamingos in flight!

I finally made it to the beach and basically had it to myself. My host mother told me that she loves to go to the beach in May and June, but avoids it at all costs in July and August because that's when the "Northerners" come. She complains about how the Parisians fill the beach just like they fill the metro and leave no personal space for anyone. I can't wait to come back to the beach when it gets a little warmer to lay out in the sun and treat myself to some ice cream from one of the dozens of glaceries I saw!

Just me, my vélomagg, and la mer méditerrané

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!

Ice, ice, baby

Peur du jour- 5 Fevrier 2012: Skating up and down hill

Not terribly terrifying, but I did think twice before I decided to do it.

Photo Credit: Beth Moroney

I went to a patinoire (ice rink) today in Montpellier and it's basically a boite on glace (a club on ice)! I've never seen a rink with a DJ, disco balls, strobe lights, colored lights, fog machine, and two circle rinks meant specifically for dance-skating. There was also a hill (so that you could speed through a tunnel peppered with colored lights really fast).

Photo Credit: Beth Moroney

Photo Credit: Beth Moroney

It would have been more fun without the hoards of kids that I was worried about running over, but all in all it was a very fun way to spend a Sunday afternoon.

Photo Credit: Beth Moroney

She bangs, she moves

Peur du jour- 4 Fevrier 2012: Self-Bang Trim

Short and sweet: today, despite reservations about messing up and walking around like a goof for a few weeks, I trimmed my bangs.

I am quite pleased!

Before:

 After:

http://www.zigoti.com/2011/06/wear-bangs-growing/

Naw, just kidding:

I should get a job application, or something.

Such great heights

Peur du jour- 28 Janvier 2012: Tree climbin'

Okay, this was in no way scary and I had no need to overcome a fear to do this. But I just thought it I would share for the acrophobes among you. This is what happens after a very fun birthday picnic:

See if you can find me!

Can't wait to do it again!

Make a wish in Arles and Saintes-Maries-de-la-mer

Peur du jour: 21 Janvier 2012- Eating lots of new French things

Yesterday I went on a day trip to Arles and Saintes-Marie-De-La-Mer (can we just talk about how I saw the Mediterranean sea for the first time in my life and I loved it and it was just as beautiful as I had ever dreamed it would be?). Arles is a town full of Roman Ruins, a beautiful market, and was an area in which Van Gough painted many of his works. Arles is also the town where I fell in love with French food.

My first encounter with the food in Arles was at the enormous market where they had everything from produce and olives,

Des courges muscads (a pumpkin like gourd)

 to exotic spices and honey,

Easily my favorite stand-- it's so nice to see and smell such beautiful spices!

 to baked confections and mounds of baguettes,

The Famous French Macarons

to sausages, cheeses, and different cuts of meat.

Unidentified animal leg-- any guesses?

 I tried many samples (olives, cheese, bread, macarons, sausage, honey) and even learned from an olive vendor that when one tries a new food, one is supposed to make a wish. I made so many wishes in Arles!

For lunch, I had my first traditional French meal since being here.  Our tour guide Jean-Paul invited those who were so inclined to join him to déjeuner at his favorite restaurant in Arles L'escaladou to experience la cuisine Provençale. I decided that the time had arrived to have a meal worth more than my normal under-one-euro-American-style-sandwhich (which remained isolated in my lunch bag all day).  Dining with a native (Jean-Paul is Occitan) really enhanced the cultural experience! A friend and I shared our meals so we got to try a lot of different things:

 Les Escargots de la Mer

La soupe du possoin: fish soup with crusty bread topped with Rouille (saffron and mayonaise) and Parmesan cheese
(Photo Credit to Maggie Grossman!)

Le Lapin aux herbes provençales: Rabbit with provencial herbs (this sauce was so good!)

La Boeuf Guardian: a traditional dish made with beef from the bulls which are raised in the Camargue (the delta region of the Rhone River) , olives, and rice which is grown in the Camargue

Photo Credit: Michelle Lewis

Ile Flottant: Crème Anglaise topped with meringue (whipped egg whites)- really very good

 Nougat Glace: a sort of ice cream dish with honey and whipped cream

 As you can see, I am going quite hungry in France. We all left the restaurant with stupid grins on our faces. Trying new foods that you immensely enjoy is just such a metaphor for life (it's about to get cheesy).  In a broader sense, I realize that there is so much out there in the world that I haven't even discovered and which will bring me immense joy (people, places, cultures, vocations, ministries). It's a really liberating experience and I feel so blessed to have the opportunity to experience so many new things.



One of my wishes came true (I'll keep you posted on the others):