Some France Adventures and a New Car

SNOW! The first "real" snowfall my children have experienced. They thought it was "trop cool".

Joshua giving a sly look right before he decks Sophia with a snow ball.

The street sign "Rue Pierre Bessett" from our first apartment.

The view from our balcony looking towards Chamaliere where our good friends Kim and Matthew live. We traveled up that road many times to visit them and go to the playground.

The same view a little to the left. The road to the far left will take you to our new apartment.

The view from the kitchen window in our old apartment. The "hill" is Parc Monjuzet and the big white building in the foreground is the Intermarche grocery store that we frequented quite often.

This is going to be a hodge podge post covering the last month of our adventures in France. I should have been blogging using a word processor during that time to truly catch the emotion and experience but, alas, I did not. Frankly, it is probably a good thing, because I may not have had such glowing reviews of our new home at the time. I will start off by saying I am sure - SURE - that at the end of our experience and life here I will be very thankful for the opportunity. And, there have already been some very positive aspects to our experience, thus far. But, the overarching theme for this past month has been "wow, this is so much harder than I have ever expected and why is there so much stinkin' (literally) dog poop on the sidewalk????".

I am not really sure where to start. Things are just different here. Like, everything is different. I am not sure why I expected it to be any different than, well, totally different. And, I know that different isn't always bad. But when different means your entire lifestyle and routine change along with communication methods (sign language some times works well).... it can be quite a shock to your system. Life is faster here yet slower all at the same time. Maybe it is because you walk everywhere which means it takes longer to get from point A to point B. But, for the first month we were never on time anywhere. And, if you read French or Foe, you learn that for some meetings (dinner party, for example) it is customary for the French to be 20-30 minutes late. Now I know why! Everything closes here at 8pm and virtually nothing (except for good 'ole McD's) is open on Sunday. So, you have to carefully plan shopping excursions or you may not have any food to eat (except for a cheeseburger) on Sundays - maybe this was due to poor planning? Hmmm. I have even found myself yearning for Walmart. There, I said it... yearning for the previous bain of my existence. But, really, is it a negative for workers to be able to go home to their families at 8pm every night and have Sunday as a day of rest? No. I think not. Inconvenient to those of us who are used to around the clock service? Yes. But certainly not a bad idea. I have found myself thinking "Gosh, they could make so much more money if _____". Which, I think is totally an American way of thinking. The buck isn't #1 here like it is in the US. And maybe it shouldn't be. (Although, I do think a Chick Fil A would be a huge hit here).

Regarding the ever so available cheeseburger. We have eaten McDonalds more in this past month than I have ever eaten in my entire life. Nice, eh? No mother-of-the-year awards being handed out here. There are a couple of reasons for this. Walking into and shopping in my first french grocery store was like walking into a nuclear power plant for the first time and being told to push the button. Um, what button am I supposed to push and will it kill me and those that I love? Extreme, maybe? But it was quite daunting and nerve wracking and I am not sure why I am writing in past tense because - it still is. Especially when I set off every security alarm in Clermont which causes, yet another, lack of communication issue. It is truly the strangest thing.. sometimes it is my purse, sometimes it is the stroller and sometimes it is just me. I mean, if it was just me I may think it was my tooth filling. But, nope, it changes depending on the day and the store. I mean, really, what luck? Anyhow, I digress... the kids and I would walk to the store and go shopping together every single day for the first few weeks because I couldn't get a good shopping and cooking routine going - had no idea what to cook and how to cook it. So every day we would walk to the grocery store that was literally right behind our apartment. I was TERRIFIED that something would happen where I would have french spoken to me that would require a response that I become drill sargent Mom. Don't touch! Move out of their way! No, we can't get that thing that looks like a muskrat with his fangs still showing!

All of the grocery stores here have really cool seafood (fruit de la mer - literally, fruit of the sea) sections with all kinds of cool fish and creatures from the ocean. I thought it would be a cool learning experience for Joshua so one day we saunter through the line only to be told "Attention! Attention! Non! And many other french words that I don't understand". Eek!! I don't really know what you are saying! I have gotten sort of good at playing the "I am just an ignorant American, please forgive me" card so we got out of that one... even with a smile and a "Bon Journee!" This one particular store has a patisserie and boulangerie inside and we frequented it quite often, as well. It is so true that, initially, you may not get the most warm and jovial greeting from a french man or woman but after a few trips to the store it is like you are one of them. The ladies who worked at the patisserie seemed to adore my children and eventually knew we wanted two pain au chocolats and three croissants before we ever reached the counter. I miss that grocery store now that we have moved and plan to take a periodic trip over there every once in a while for old times sake (and for the scrumptious pain au chocolat and cheddar cheese which I cannot find anywhere else).

The other reason McDonalds has been a hit with us is because it offers us a little taste of home. It is strange how when you are in a foreign place you covet things familiar. American culture is somewhat pervasive here. Songs with English words are played in every store and restaurant and is always so nice to hear the mother tongue. Whenever I hear someone speak English on the street it is so refreshing and music to my ears.

We have taken a couple of trips through the country side... once to St-Etienne where IKEA is located and once to Saint Jean des Oreilles to pick up some items we had purchased from an expat family who recently relocated back to Greenville. The country side is absolutely breathtaking and exactly what you picture France to look like. Rolling green hill sides (think Sound of Music... I know, that was Austria, but close enough) and some big snow capped mountains. Little cottages, situated in adorable little villages, with old stone churches in the village center whose streets are about as wide as our old driveway and larger chateaus, situated on a little hill, and even rambling thousand year old castles. I really enjoyed our little excursions out of town and look forward to taking more road trips. A mental image will be the extent of the picture you get of the country side because I took no pictures! Sorry! I have not done a good job documenting through photography so far but, I promise, I will do better next time.

This is one of the McDonalds we have visited and it is located in Place de Jaude right in downtown Clermont near the cathedral and very close to our new apartment. The kids and I ate lunch here one day in our second week. As soon as the four of us sit down and find a seat, right after manuevering the stroller and directing the other two through a crowd of people, and right after I lay out all of the chicken nuggets, french fries and arrange the ketchup... Sophia announces she has to go potty... which is located two floors up. She has the best timing when it comes to needing to go potty. So, I do the only thing I know and I leave our stuff down stairs at the table and the three kids and I trek up to the third floor to find the ladies room. We return about 10 minutes later and, as we approach our table, I notice there is some man taking our food. My first thought was "oh, he works here and thinks we aren't there anymore" (despite my coat on the back of the chair and non-eaten food laid out on the table). Then, it dawns on me that everyone in the dining room is staring at us and that man doesn't work here. He dashes out of the dining room as people start nervously laughing. He stole my children's chicken nuggets and fries! It isn't like they were in the Happy Meal box.. they were laid out on the table on napkins. My cheeseburger wasn't good enough for him. It was the most surreal moment because it happened so quickly that it was over before I really knew what was happening. So, I stand there stunned while Joshua and Sophia ask why that man took their food. The only sound I can utter is "Hmm.." then I spin on my heels and giggle to myself because it is just so strange and we march back up to the counter. A nice young man who is with his toddler chases after me and in this crowded hallway starts talking to me in french and making hand gestures. I don't know what he is saying but I can gather that he is exasperated over what transpired and is telling me such and that he is sorry. I tell him that it is ok half in English half way in my poor French then we head to the counter again. Before we reach the register, the man is back, with his son in his arms, telling the manager what happened and still apologizing on behalf of the nugget thief. The management gives me a sympathetic smile and then replaces our food for free and takes it to the table for us. So, lesson learned, while many french people may not smile at you on the street or move out of your way to let you and three kids plus one stroller onto the tramway.. they will bring forth justice regarding a swiped Happy Meal. He was one of the many ever so helpful french people I have met thus far.