An American Girl in Avignon

April 12, 2009
Today was Easter Sunday. As mentioned in a previous blog, this is my second time being out of the country during the holiday, but this time I am in a country where the majority of the country recognizes and respects the holiday 9last year I was in China). Although the people in France may not be very religious, it is tradition that most people attend mass Easter Sunday.

Something that I found amusing about the holiday is that instead of an Easter Bunny bringing children a basket full of chocolately goodness in the morning, the bearer of gifts in France is a bell. Yep…an inanimate object. Why one would choose an inanimate object to bring gifts is beyond me, but I am guessing that it has something to do with how many church bells I heard ringing throughout the day. Thankfully, the children still receive chocolate on this special day, and when Kristina and I walked downstairs to the elaborately adorned table, we were delighted to see nine chocolate bunnies (with bell collars around their neck) as edible décor. I nonchalantly pre-staked my claim on one of the two dark chocolate ones (which were bigger that the milk :) ) by casually mentioning to the family that I liked dark chocolate more. It worked.

After a hurried, freezing cold shower (I had slept in, so everyone had already used all the hot water), I rushed to get downstairs by noon. Of course, I didn’t make it until 12:30, mostly due to the fact that I spent at least twenty minutes holding the shower nozzle as far away from me as possible, frantically turning the knobs in search of any lukewarm water. No such luck. Running downstairs at half past twelve, I apologized for my tardiness, only to find that I wasn’t late at all. This was France after all. It is even sometimes considered rude to be on time to someone’s house here. Fifteen minutes is just fashionably late, but one is truly en vogue if they show up a half an hour late, but never more than 45 minutes, or you are considered an unappreciative pig. I am slowly beginning to understand the thought process behind their ways.

The beautifully decorated table was lined with three glasses at each setting, and countless knives and forks. A little panicked, and thinking how beneficial it would have been to have taken something like etiquette or cotillion classes before being thrown head first into a formal gathering such as this, I turned to my host brother and whispered what on earth all those plates, utensils, and glasses were for. The old “work your way from the outside in” apparently would work in this situation, and I learned that you started with the plate on top and worked your way down as each course you were served. Simpler than I had thought. The three glasses were for water, wine, and CHAMPAGNE!!! It was going to be a good day indeed. Free feast and champagne (my favorite!)…this was my lucky day!! I am just going to except the fact that deep down, I am a true romantic: a strawberries and champagne kind of girl. :)

Wondering what we were supposed to do, Kristin and I twiddled our thumbs, and after our family insisted that they didn’t need any help, we made our way to the living room to sit and wait for the aperitif. When the family’s friends arrived, the awkwardness level went through the roof. I was greeted by the husband, wife, and three children with three bissous on my cheeks. I told you the French people had no personal space boundaries. These people didn’t even know me and they were already kissing me. I was thrown off guard by this (because frankly I was not used to someone kissing me on the cheek when we first meet for obvious reasons), that when I pulled away to say, “Enchantée (nice to meet you), je m’appelle Catherine (my name is Catherine),” I stopped before my name (I swear the pause seemed like 5 seconds), before finally spitting it out. I am sure I made a great first impression....

The three kids, two girls who were sixteen and thirteen, and a boy of eighteen, sat on the opposite end of the couch, saying nothing and looking at the ground as they were handed glasses of coco-cola in place of the straight whiskey or mimosa-like thing I was drinking. The adults talked amongst themselves in a lightning-fast speed. It was like watching a tennis match, my head bobbed back and forth between each person, desperately trying to keep up with what they were talking about (which I know was about something intellectual I wouldn’t know anything about anyway), but it was obvious that I was in way over my head. Monsieur could tell this, as he casually whispered aside during the firing of French pharses, “Un peu trop vite, n’est-ce pas?” (A little too fast, right?) I just nodded and kept the stunned look on my face. I am happy to report that as the day went on, and after a few drinks, it became easier to understand what they were saying…so I am trying to stay optimistic and think there is hope for me! After munching on bowls of pretzels and Pringles (of all things), Madame called us to the elaborately set table for the feast.

I don’t think I have ever eaten so much food in my life in one sitting! It was absolutely marvelous! I felt like a princess as I attempted to eat as fancy and as well mannered as possible, but I was still my dorky, awkward self, so my plan of impressing the other family didn’t work out quite as well as envisioned in my head. Things usually never do, but that’s life. The first course was oversized asparagus with a crème sauce accompanied by white wine. The following course was the plat principal: bread and baby potatoes (baby bakers…so yummy!!) with sautéed zucchini, and succulent lamb meat. My mouth is watering just talking about it. The main course was accompanied by a rich, regional red wine and dipping sauce. After this came the cheese and bread course (with more wine), which was followed by dessert: mocha cake (which the family informed us they were up till 1:30 in the morning making, while we were out dancing) accompanied by champagne. ..two glasses of champagne. Knowing how I love champagne, I really think the family was trying to get me drunk for their amusement, because they kept refilling my glass. I finally had to tell them to stop, because after an aperitif, two glasses of wine, and two glasses of champagne, and my zero-alcohol tolerance, I was starting to feel REALLY good…and a little loopy. But I vowed to buy that same brand for my return trip to the US, since it was so yummy. I for sure didn’t get drunk, but I KNOW my host dad was a little buzzed. I lost count of how many glasses of alcohol he had consumed(after downing three or four aperitifs); he started laughing a lot, making jokes, and then ended dessert by pulling out the guinea pig and placing the bell collar (originally around the lapin au chocolat’s (chocolate bunny’s) neck) around his pet. His slap-happy mood was hysterical. If it would have been different circumstances, I would have taken a video, because he was in a really, REALLLY good mood. After FOUR hours of sitting and conversation, the massive meal ended with us finally consuming the chocolate rabbits and drinking coffee (three cups for me, because we served in shot-size espresso glasses). Ahhh…what a meal. It was really great to participate in a traditional afternoon with family and friends in Provence. This was the kind of meal I had only read about in books, or seen in movies, and to get to experience the intelligent conversation, laughs, and flavors of a formal French afternoon was truly a blessing I will remember for the rest of my life.

Thankfully, the other family opened up to conversation after they had food and wine in their bellies, so the rest of the afternoon was relaxing and enjoyable. After more conversation, and realizing that it was nearing 5, the family left, bissous for all! This meant that Kristina and I had an hour to get ready for an evening Easter mass in town at the St. Paul cathedral. We just sat around, letting our stomachs settle for a while before making that hike across town.

The cathedral and service were both…beautiful. A candle-lit mass with a simple guitar and hymn book was all one needed to feel the presence and warm of a place so welcoming on Easter Sunday. Although the service and songs were in French, so that meant I didn’t really have a clue as to what was going on, it didn’t matter. The church had a welcoming feeling of warmth, and even though, being a contemporary Protestant, I am not used to a traditional Catholic service, it was easy to follow along by watching everyone else. Although, I am sure that I looked like a fool when I did that whole cross thing where you touch your head, then your chest, and your two shoulders…in the wrong direction. What is that called by the way? Oh…never mind.

During prayer, I felt something wet splash across my face, and realized that the priest was walking around sprinkling people’s heads with an olive branch drenched in holy water. This was different for me, but it was really neat to get to see how different types of churches worship the same God in their own way. It’s fascinating to me. Although, I interrupted another time of prayer, when I felt something grab my leg and let out a little gasp, as I jumped to look down and spot a smiling child who had wondered over to me, who I am guessing decided that I looked friendly and felt the need to latch on to my leg. Everyone turned around and glared at me…then to my surprise, smiled. It was Easter after all. Gosh, I just cause so many problems when I travel…

After the mass, we stood in line to greet the priest, to whom my family informed that I was from America. As soon as they said this, it seemed as though all the people within an earshot turned around to get a glance at the American girl who had interrupted their service. To my delight, I was met by smiling faces and looks of fascination. I think it is safe to say that they were just as intrigued by Kristina and me as we were by them. The priest shook my hand, looked me in the eye, as he said in French, “God bless you child,”…and added in English, “Have fun, and safe travels.” I felt really touched as I turned to look back at the Renaissance period building. I paused for a moment and thanked God for how blessed I was to be spending Easter with such a nice family in France.

Walking back to the house, I took my time, lingering behind to absorb all the sights and sounds of a beautiful town called Avignon. I looked up at the starry cloudless sky, and then down to the pavement of the Rue de la Republic, which is embedded with fragments glass, so it sparkles under the light. It was like something out of a dream. Then, it hit me: there I was standing in the middle of a sparkly road on Easter Sunday. I was slowly but surely falling in love…with France. I think it is going to be harder to leave this place then I had previously thought.