A shot in the dark

We are now just a few weeks shy of our one year anniversary in France.  It's hard to believe how fast it has gone by!  It also means that we are at the end of many "firsts" (at least calendar wise).  One last one though - my first July 14th in France.  Even though Jean and I would frequently come in the summer on vacation, I had never been here for "Bastille Day".  Given its proximity to the Forth of July, I wonder if many Americans living in France appreciate the dates being so close together to sort of replace what they are missing from home.

So...my impression of this "first"?  A bit quieter than its US counterpart.  No complaints here though.  I decided to treat Audrey to her first fireworks display (despite the fact that it didn't start until 11pm!).  Cotton candy ("barbe à papa" in French) gave her a nice sugar rush that literally had her running in circles for a good half hour before the fireworks began.  And then the show started...she was enamored!  The most incredible thing she has seen in her three and a half years.  Okay, that's what I thought her reaction would be.  What really happened?  She sat on my lap with her hands over her ears for the entire 20 minutes, paralyzed with fear.  Half way through, on the verge of tears, she says she's done and wants to go home. I was able to get her to stay through the rest but it was hard to enjoy it knowing that she was scared.  Maybe firsts aren't all they're cracked up to be.  I guess we'll stick around for another year to give it a second shot...

 

Flamenco with a French touch

Not long after I arrived, I decided that it would be a good idea to find some sort of ongoing activity to help make France feel more like home.  I have always wanted to learn Flamenco dancing so I signed up for a weekly class that started last September.  I mean what better place to learn Flamenco than here in France where it all originated!  (Okay - I might be one country off but at least I'm on the right continent!)  Anyway, it turns out that its a little harder than I was thinking.  I thought that my dancing skills acquired during my Latin American travels would work in my favor. Unfortunately, a decent merengue and passing salsa moves wouldn't help me much after all.

Then, a couple months in, I hear about the big show in June where we will be dancing - on a stage, in front of people.  As it is, I am having trouble getting the moves down and with the class conducted all in French (I mean who would have thought) I feel like I've gotten myself in over my head.  There were a more than a couple nights when I arrived home and on the verge of tears told Jean I was done.  I just wasn't getting it.  But I stuck in there.  I practiced for hours on end at home (which served the dual purpose of getting the moves down as well as making Audrey and Thomas chuckle).

The day of the show arrived and I actually felt ready.  While I cannot brag about being the most graceful of dancers, I had the steps down.  Walking off that stage I felt so incredibly proud of what I had achieved. I remember thinking that this experience mirrors the greater overall challenge of adapting to life in France.  With hard work and perseverance, I can pull this off too.

Now if someone can just explain to me why I keep getting strange looks running errands in my flamenco skirt and shoes...

A different type of history lesson

A couple weeks ago we celebrated May 8th - the date that WWII ended.  It's a national holiday in France although I have to admit it's not one of the dates I remember from history class.  The Alsace region was under German control a number of times in fairly recent history and many of the actual battles took place in neighboring towns.  I remember years ago my father-in-law taking me a farm the next town over that was used as an infirmary during the war. It's hard to believe that the areas I drive through each day were battlegrounds not too long ago.  

On May 8th, Audrey and I attended a memorial service at a national cemetery in the town of Sigolsheim, the site of some intense fighting during WWII.  Alongside, the French troops, a number of American infantries helped to liberate the town and eventually lead to the end of the war.  Because of this, an American memorial was created to honor these fallen soldiers.  The ceremony was incredibly touching and it was hard to not feel a bit emotional when the military band played the Star Spangled Banner in front of the American flag. I found myself standing in a spot where fellow Americans gave their lives and couldn't help but feel moved.  After the ceremony was over, I went back and forth on whether or not to tell Audrey about why we were there.  I finally decided that she has plenty of time to learn about war as she grows up - that will be a discussion for another day.  One person did come up to me afterwards to tell me how they noted that Audrey seemed incredibly observant at the ceremony and she couldn't help but notice how she looked intently at the field of crosses with a sort of understanding and respect.

Audrey and I were some of the last people to walk down the hill after the ceremony was over.  Audrey was taking her time making her way down and I was trying to nudge her a bit by telling her to stay closer to me.  An older French man also on his way down, overheard me speaking to her in English, asked if I was American. I responded yes. "Thank goodness you guys were here", he said to me in French, and then walked the other way wishing me a good day.  I cannot take credit for any of the sacrifices made although I watched him walk away with a much deeper understanding of a war that was taught to me from a textbook.  I have to imagine that my own children will learn about the war in a very different way.  I held Audrey's hand down the rest of the hill, letting her walk down as slowly as she wanted knowing that she was taking in one pretty important history lesson.

Thoughts of Boston

Watching the events unfold in Boston over the last week have been surreal.  It's strange feeling so connected to the situation yet so removed physically from everything that has been going on.  Along with many others, we have tried to follow the events but unlike those in Boston, we have been able to carry on with our normal lives which has me feeling a little guilty.  I am assuming that there are many individuals who feel the same way.

Last Monday, we had friends visiting from Boston and I had taken them to downtown Strasbourg to sightsee and grab a late dinner.  On our way home, I happened to see that I had a Facebook message from someone I knew in Paraguay 15 years ago.  She wanted to know if I was okay since she heard there was an explosion in Boston.  I didn't think much of it considering how far she was and that small stories can often be exaggerated when reported internationally.  I did a quick Google search just to make sure.  The results were hard to believe.  I sat there with our friends from Boston in complete disbelief.

Living abroad, we have the unique opportunity to choose how much information we seek out about these unfolding events.  While I was curious as to the status of all of it, I also found myself holding back from reading too much.  I can only imagine the intensity of the coverage in the US, especially for friends in Boston.  It was surreal to watch the live scenes from our living room with coverage from very familiar spots.  In fact, Jean was able to see our car (black Acura in front of the police cruiser) that we sold right before we left Boston while watching the news (he sold it to someone in Watertown, MA and remembered the street name of where he lived - Jean later emailed the guy confirming his hunch).    

It's funny - people here ask me all the time if I ever get homesick.  I usually tell them that I haven't really yet.  This week changed things for me.  The events this week have made me realize that my connection to Boston is still incredibly strong and I longed to be "home".

Jean and I made a home in Boston and while neither of us were born and raised there, it is a place that we cherish.  It is the place where we married, bought our first place and gave birth to two beautiful children.  Boston was our home for almost a decade and it remains a city very close to our hearts.  The events of the past week have made me cherish the city even more.  There is an incredible strength and pride in Boston than is undeniable. Though our home is in France for now, I anxiously await the time when we will call Boston home again.  Now if I could just come up with some sort mantra...

...Big Papi, any thoughts?

Shedding the Security Blanket

Although some people might think that I've embarked on a huge adventure, truth be told it doesn't always feel that way.  Life for the moment is pretty safe and in some ways it feels like not a lot has changed.  I realized recently that although I am living in France, I am not living in French.  With Jean still looking for work, I find that most of my day is spent speaking English with him and the kids. While I know this will change soon, for now I seem to have opted for the security of sticking with familiarity.  Well up until last week...

A while back I heard about a childbirth conference taking place in Brussels.  It was a small intimate 3 day event featuring Michel Odent, a well know physician, researcher, author and proponent of natural childbirth.  I struggled with whether or not to go but eventually decided that this was an opportunity I could not pass up.  So last week I packed up and left Jean and the kids for 4 days.  It meant me driving to Belgium alone which had be a little nervous.  Being alone in a car driving to a place I had never been was a strange feeling.  Though it was pretty darn cool to drive right through Luxembourg (and stopping there for a fill up and snack!).  I got to Brussels close to 9pm and checked into the B & B, anxious to Skype Jean to see how the kids were.  It may sound silly but I felt so adventurous even though compared to my backpacking around South America when I was in my late teens/early 20's, this "adventure" was much more tame.  Perhaps it's now the fact that I have others to whom I am responsible that made this seemingly small trip feel like I was living on the edge (or I am just mature enough now to know the difference!).  Needless to say, falling asleep without in a room alone hundreds of miles from the security of my husband and kids was hard.

Overall, the conference was great.  I met some incredible people and really felt immersed in French for the first time since I arrived.  The last day of the conference  I mustered up the confidence to talk to Michel Odent during one of our breaks.  What a highlight!  Not only did the conversation last for 20 minutes but he thought it was super cool that I was from Cleveland (how often does that happen?) since that was the first place he was ever invited to speak.  Oh, plus he complimented me on my French.  It was the perfect way to have ended this adventure and I left feeling incredibly proud of myself for taking the risk.  That 4 hours driving home flew by.  Sorry Luxembourg, no time to stop this time - I've got my babies waiting for me... 

 

                                    

   

                           

Settling in

It's hard to believe we've been in France for almost 8 months.  Thomas has now officially spent more of his life in France than in the US! Audrey's French has absolutely exploded and she never ceases to amaze me with her language capabilities.  In September, we'll be signing her up for school and have decided to enter her in the bilingual (French/German) program.  Who know, perhaps soon she'll be able to accompany me on shopping trips in Germany to help with some translations.  Both kids are thriving which I am sure helps with my transition as well.  

As for me, I'm trying to get involved with as many activities as possible to try and stay busy.  Back in October I started Flamenco dancing classes which is something I have always wanted to do.  I mean what better place to learn Flamenco than France, right ; )  We'll have our big end of the year performance in few months which is a little nerve wrecking but hopefully it'll keep me on my toes (literally!). I also started yoga classes last month and its been pretty cool to be able to practice in French.  So downward facing dog has now become "chien inversée". To round out these activities, I also finished my first French 5K today.  For those of you that know me well, I am not a runner.  I trained for a whole week and a half and and I'm just happy to be able to say that I ran the whole thing without having to walk any of it. I was hoping for some sort of cheese break halfway but it seems someone forgot to set it up.  Maybe I'll have to move up to a 10K to get that.

On a professional note, I've been trying to connect myself to some of the breastfeeding organizations in the area to start meeting people.  The field is much, much smaller than in the US which could be both a good and bad thing.  Nevertheless, this is an incredibly important aspect of my transition to France and so rest assured that its on my to do list.

Okay, now just waiting on spring to arrive...I have a feeling that my US followers agree!

Rising to the occasion

It's been quiet here lately, hence the lack of recent posts.  As many families this winter, we have been struck with one sickness after another - bronchitis, ear infections and never ending colds.  Thomas has started to pretend blow his nose whenever he can get his hand on some tissues.  Cute really - unless you realize they are his sisters used tissues (sigh).  Oh, and to top things off, Jean sprained his ankle playing volleyball last week and is currently hobbling around on crutches.  Needless to say, I am hopeful that spring will be here soon!!

Since I have regained much of my strength, I've tried to occupy some of the time at home by cooking.  Challenge this week?  The classic french soufflé! Nothing I would have really thought about making while in the US but now it seems only fitting that I tackle some of these French classics (hmmm, this sounds like a movie I've seen).  Anyway, to add to the challenge I invite the mother-in-law over for the occasion.  Nothing like upping the ante a bit, eh?  Oh, and to make sure I didn't chicken out, I purposely told her soufflé as on the menu.  No backing out now...

It's funny - it wasn't nearly as difficult as its lofty name implies.  Really, its two steps - first make a what's called a mornay sauce (butter, flour, milk, cheese, egg yolks)...

...and then seperately beat the egg whites - 

Then you carefully incorporate the egg whites in the the mornay sauce and place it in a well buttered and floured dish.  You are supposed to fill it 3/4 full to be able to have the soufflé rise above the rim of the dish for that classic look.  Turns out my dish was a little large so although it rose adequately, I didn't get that effect.

Nevertheless, I was super impressed with the result! Nice rise, lightly browned top and an incredibly smooth texture.  I served it alongside a green salad with homemade vinaigrette and voilà- lunch is served.   

Raves came from the entire table...from the mother-in-law all the way to 13 month old Thomas.  Audrey put away an enormous portion happily adding soufflé to her quickly expanding vocabulary list (luckily it needs no translation between English and French!).  Awesome! One French classic only another couple hundred to go.         


Oh, and in case anyone was interested in trying this themselves, here is the classic Julia Child Cheese soufflé recipe.  Bon appètit!

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

This is the classic version of a cheese soufflé, adapted from Julia Child’s recipe in her book, The Way to Cook (Knopf).
SERVES 6

2 tablespoons, finely grated Parmesan cheese (or other hard cheese)
2 1/2 tablespoons, butter
3 tablespoons, flour
1 cup, hot milk
1/2 teaspoon, paprika
1/8 teaspoon, fresh-ground nutmeg
1/2 teaspoon, salt
1/4 teaspoon, fresh ground pepper (white, if you don’t like to see dark “specs”)
4 egg yolks
5 egg whites
1 cup (about 3 1/2 ounces), coarsely grated Swiss cheese
Prepare the dish: Butter the interior of a straight-sided, 1 quart baking dish (7-8 inches in diameter). Roll the grated Parmesan cheese around the dish to coat the bottom and sides.

Preheat the oven to 400 degrees. Set the oven rack just below the center of the oven.

Make the soufflé base: In a saucepan, melt the butter and stir in the flour. Cook for two minutes over moderate heat – do not allow the mixture to brown. Gradually add the milk, whisking constantly to prevent lumps. Stir and cook slowly (mixture will boil gently) for 3 minutes – it will be very thick. Whisk in the seasonings and remove from heat. One by one, whisk in the egg yolks.

Beat the egg whites: In a clean mixing bowl, using a balloon whisk or an electric beater, beat the (room temperature) egg whites until stiff and shiny. The whites will form peaks when the beater is lifted. Do not overbeat – when the peaks form as described, stop beating.

Finish the soufflé mixture: Scoop about one quarter of the beaten egg whites onto the top of the base mixture, and gently stir the whites into the base. Turn the remaining beaten egg whites onto the sauce and carefully fold them into the base mixture alternating scoops of the spatula with sprinkles of the grated Swiss cheese. Spoon the soufflé mixture gently into the prepared dish.

Bake the soufflé: Set the soufflé in the preheated oven, and immediately turn the heat down to 375 degrees. Bake until the soufflé has puffed 2 to 3 inches over the rim of the baking dish, into the collar, and the top has browned nicely - about 25-30 minutes..