On Sunday, I was invited for lunch at a dear friend's house. Let's call this friend Anouk. Knowing Sunday lunch could last 6 hours (I kid you not), I always take my car rather than car pool with another friend. Let's call this other friend Marie. Marie was asked to pick up yet another friend. Let's call her Madame Lagarde. When I arrived at my friend's house, Anouk was in a tizzy. Madame Lagarde had not yet arrived with Marie. Anouk tried to call Marie on her cell phone, but as usual she had turned it off. She only uses it in emergencies. To Anouk, this was an actual emergency, and why bother owning a cell phone if it is never turned on! Ouf!!! Since Anouk and Marie often get into conflicts, I began to wonder how lunch would go today. When Marie and Madame Lagarde finally arrived, Anouk started to berate Marie on her tardiness. Marie defended herself quietly saying she made a wrong turn and was only five minutes late. Fortunately, Anouk let it go.
I found Madame Lagarde fascinating. She is 99 years old and sharp as a tack. She turns 100 in September. Clearly she loves to eat and is not shy about asking for her glass of wine. She makes jokes and gives off an impish look while teasing our host. I felt a real connection with her. She likes to take an afternoon nap like I do. In fact, they asked me to drive her home early so we could both nap. Drive her home! What! No! I can't drive a 99 year old home. In my mind, it is like making me responsible for a priceless antique vase. So I treated her like precious cargo. "Tell me if you are too hot or too cold in the car, Madame Lagarde. Water is in the back if you need it." Probably thinking, this American seems loony, Madame Lagarde helped me get her home with succinct directions. She lives alone on a massive property that was once a farm. I watched her negotiate the three steps up to her front porch. Although she is hunched over, she refuses to use a cane or a walker. She won't even allow a railing for the front steps. Her husband died fairly recently at age 97. What is this couple's secret? As she said good-bye, she asked if she could give me a "bise", French word for the farewell kiss that French people do. I felt truly flattered.
Yesterday, I attended a Hatha yoga class. I did not know what to expect. Would the women be gorgeous young French women wearing tight trendy yoga pants? Would I be able to do the poses? My first obstacle that morning was finding the class.I asked 3 women in the parking lot who tried to help but kept insisting I go to the Activities Center which did not sound right. I finally called the teacher who came and got me. Once inside, the other three women all wearing baggy street clothes said "bonjour". I kept up fairly well except for the balance poses. These really need work. In fact, the teacher looked like she wanted to laugh when she saw me trying so hard not to topple over. Toward the end of the class, my concentration started to wane. I kept confusing right and left. The teacher tried saying right and left in English. That did not help either. The key issue here is that I don't speak yoga. And what the heck are "omoplates"? Despite my trepidation, I did enjoy the class and will go back next week for the final one of the season. I found it interesting that at the end of class, the women fled without taking time to chat. At Jazzercise, they practically need to throw us out. We all want to stand around and gab.
I booked a facial, the super deluxe hydration package for the next day. Again not knowing what to expect, upon arriving, I was asked to lie down on a table and remove my dress. Remove my dress??? What did my dress have to do with a facial. The estheticienne explained vaguely that my neck and shoulders would be involved. No way! I would not and could not take off my dress. She did not even offer me a robe. Nothing at all. She kept tugging at my dress to place hydrating lotion all over my neck and chest. Finally, I remembered my full slip underneath the dress so I volunteered to take my dress off. Clearly, my ideas of modesty and French ideas of modesty do not jive. We passed from hydration to electrode stimulation to more hydration. My body began to relax and enjoy the experience. My face looked smooth and silky.
All three of the above experiences took place entirely in French and left me feeling very satisfied and more knowledgeable about the French language and culture. Please do not think, I go through intense French language situations with comfort and ease. Sometimes anxiety creeps in as well as incomprehension. But overall, I encourage myself and all my students to jump into these kinds of situations and see what happens linguistically. These experiences tend to be the most fulfilling and memorable part of any trip to France.
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My art and writing center in my home in Monflanquin. |