This is about the extent of my Dad’s French vocabulary.
A calm, competent, and resourceful man, my Dad rarely finds himself in a situation he cannot handle. He has been the default leader of every Thomas family vacation and has such a good sense of direction we have nicknamed him “GPS.”
But for my parents’ visit to Besançon and Paris, I was thrown in the driver’s seat.
And why not? I have lived in Besançon for seven months now, visited Paris countless times since I moved here, and am fluent in French, a language that sounds like guttural throat convulsions to my Dad.
My parents arrived at the train station in downtown Besançon at 1 pm on a Tuesday wearing bewildered smiles.
Our week of four-hour dinners, sightseeing, and wine tasting had commenced.
The night before we left Besançon for Paris, the three of us had dinner at Catherine’s house (Laura and Julia’s mother). Also present were Nicolas (Catherine’s boyfriend) and my neighbors Thierry and Laurent.
The evening began at 7 pm, with bottles of champagne generously provided by Thierry and Laurent. My Dad and Nicolas were wearing the exact same outfit: khaki pants, a dark blue polo shirt, and loafers. They both like fishing, red wine, and shoes. But they couldn’t say a word to one another. (Nicolas’s English is just about as good as my Dad’s French…)
We sat around Catherine’s dining table until after midnight, drinking and chatting. The longer the night went on the more trouble I had switching back and forth between English and French, so that by the end of the night I was speaking French to my Dad and English to Nicolas.
Suddenly the language barrier seemed so stupid. I felt sure Nicolas and my Dad would be friends, if only they could talk to one another. As it was, they were only able to participate in one of the two conversations happening at the table: the French conversation or the English conversation.
At the risk of sounding gushy, this dinner made me see the joys (and advantages) of being bilingual: to be able to participate in many conversations at once.
Here is a link to a great New York Times article about the benefits of bilingualism. (Sorry just a plug to convince you all that learning languages is important - for both unselfish and selfish reasons.)
Friday afternoon, when I was finished with work, my parents and I hopped on the train to Paris.
In Paris, I couldn’t stop myself from seeing friends and staying up late, even though we had an early-morning trip to Versailles on Sunday morning. We woke up at 7 am to catch our bus. (Unfortunately this happened to be French daylight savings, so it felt like 6 am.)
Our bus was full of Japanese tourists. The guide spoke first in Japanese (now that's a language I most definitely have NOT mastered) and then in English to explain the history of Versailles. Although we felt quite conspicuous as some of the few Americans on the bus, we couldn’t help but take in Versailles.
A visit to Versailles helps make the French Revolution much clearer. I’ll let the photos speak for themselves here:
I would argue that the Palais Garnier is more beautiful than Versailles - certainly less gaudy. If you are planning to go to Paris anytime soon, please go visit the Opera House for me!
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Just a few days after my parents left the country, a group of high school students came from Charlottesville, Virginia – a city where I lived and studied for four years!
I have never felt as fully integrated into France as when I met our American visitors. Suddenly, I had more in common with the French people sipping coffee at the nearest café than with these cheerful, NorthFace-clad visitors. How bizarre, how bizarre...
I was asked to help entertain the teachers from Charlottesville High School. When the teachers arrived in Besançon, some of the teachers from Louis Pasteur and I took them to a long lunch.
The 5-course lunch was pretty extravagant: appetizer, entrée, salad, cheese, dessert, and of course, lots of wine. As we were eating our foie gras, one of the teachers from Charlottesville looked up and asked, “so do you eat like this for lunch every day?”
“Of course not!” I laughed, thinking his question was pretty odd. (Who eats foie gras for lunch every day???) I usually eat a cheese sandwich....
But then I realized his question wasn’t stupid at all. What he had experienced so far in France was foie gras for lunch every day. So why wouldn’t he think it was the French version of PB & J? (Peanutbutter, by the way, is VERY expensive in France, so PB & J is a delicacy here…)
I began to see that I had become so accustomed to living in France that I had lost some of the wonder and excitement of being a visitor.
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| An old photo of my street, Rue Renan |
The visits from my parents and the Charlottesville students got me thinking about “traveling styles.”
When we travel, we all have different interests: luxury, history, food, art, sport…etc.
When you travel, it is important to identify which aspect of a place interest you the most. For me it’s culture. I get bored of museums, historical monuments, and rich food. The most exciting part of my travel experience is walking around the streets and talking to local people (as much as the language barrier will permit) to find out what’s important to them, and what they think about the rest of the world.
This is not to say that my way is better than any other way (though it is often cheaper…) To really get the feel of the place, it’s important to mix a bit of all the elements. But eventually, rather than wear yourself out trying to see and experience it all, it’s important to choose the aspect that interests you the most, and then spend your time accordingly.
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| Walking along the river in Besancon |
