I'm glad I bought some boots

Yesterday morning it snowed. Yesterday was the 15th of November and it snowed on me.

I was sent on one of the most important missions of my lifetime. I was given 27€ and instructed to buy a bouquet of flowers for a departing co-worker. In addition to the flowers, I was to buy one roll of professional looking wrapping paper for Madame Moulin’s rapidly approaching trip to Japan. “Nothing too flashy,” I was told.

I stepped outside and the wind attacked me like a torrent of ice water. I braced myself against the cold and huddle my chin into my scarf. I reached the gift-shop in record time, dancing to warm myself once inside. Although there was quite a large selection to choose from, nothing seemed to fit my fancy. I finally decided on something remotely similar to what was requested and headed out the door. Again, the wind sent shocks of shivers down my spine.

You’re definitely not in Kans… I mean Keizer anymore, I said to myself.

I scurried to the location where I was supposed to find a bouquet. Buckets of freshly cut flowers and several garden gnomes adorned the outside of three little flower huts. They didn’t seem to mind the cold. I began looking for Madame Brun—the best in the biz. She came to me with a friendly “Bonjour mademoiselle.” I returned her greeting and explained that I was in need of a bouquet of flowers for a colleague and that I was 27 years old. (I had unconsciously replaced the word euros with the word ans. So, instead of saying “I have 27 euros,” I said, “I am 27 years old.”) She laughed as she corrected me and asked if I wanted pastels or vibrant colors. I chose the latter. Then, as I stood there, a little miracle began to form. She danced and swayed from bucket to bucket hand-picking each stem to fit her collection. It was absolutely beautiful. When she was finished, she wrapped her creation with care, placing bright paper of cellophane around the delicate buds. “Will they survive the chill,” I asked. “They better get used to it,” she said. “Lyon is going to see a winter like it hasn’t seen in a while.” I thanked her and armed myself for the hundreds of meters I had left to walk back in cold.

Food - The French Way

Today was the day of grand cuisine. To begin, my fabulous boss decided to take me out to lunch. We ate at this cute little French bistro called “Chez Jackie,” or “Jackie’s House,” and oh how chez it was. I felt as if I was sitting in Jackie’s living room as she ordered me to take off my coat and make myself at home. She explained that she had just returned from the market and we had two options to choose from: lasagne and fish of the sea. I chose the fish. It was extraordinary! White fish drenched in olive oil and lemon with a purée of cauliflower and rice. Superb. We laughed and argued, two things the French are very good at, while we drenched our bread in the remnants of our meal and re-filled our glasses. The merits of France versus the United States were discussed and put to rest, and somehow the fabuleux destin d’Amelié Poulin was addressed. It was a good thing Jackie returned to give us options for dessert: tarte tartine, crème caramel, and mousse au chocolat. The crème caramel was rich but smooth, the burnt outer-layer providing just the right contrast to the silky flan. We finished with a small café and headed for the door. Extraordinary. I just might see Jackie sometime very again.


Later in the evening I attended cooking school. We made pan-seared veal with rosemary- balsamic vinaigrette and potato puree. For dessert, we learned how to make a chestnut mousse with nougatine and biscuits. Oh my, it was so fabulous! Keep sending me gifts. Maybe I will make it for you when I get home.

Me and Mrs. Jones ~ Michael Bubble

The Friendly Cafe--23, rue de l’Arbre Sec

Do you ever notice the trivial nuances of the world around you? I notice the smallest, miniscule details of the people with whom I come in contact. Take my co-worker, for instance. Everytime she opens a computer folder, she changes the view of the documents from “icon” to “list”. Everytime. Even if there are only three documents in the folder; she takes the extra two seconds to change the view. Why? There must be a reason. She must have a tick. Maybe one day I will ask her.

Or, yesterday, on the metro. I was on sensory overload. An old man in an American style cowboy hat and boots was playing a guitar for money. He had a little amp stand and a mic. He played songs that had happy melodies, but they only served to make me sad. I don’t really know why. On the other end of the metro car was a group of elementary school kids on a field trip with their teachers. They were laughing and singing. All the other passengers looked cold, their faces taut with angry expressions.

Look of Love ~ Diana Krall

I am content. I have everything I need. Moist chocolate cake, shot of espresso, jazz music, good conversation, cozy little French café. I could spend my whole life in a café, watching people as they come and go, eavesdropping on vibrant table conversations.

Mad Professors

I just have to share with you one of the worst jokes I have ever heard in my entire life. Ironically enough, I almost pee’d my pants laughing.

“I tried ballroom dancing one time. I was really confused. I walked into the ballroom but I didn’t see any balls………………………………… Ya know, like basketballs, or baseballs, or maybe even just a little golf ball. Nothing.”

“Double Jeu” ~Christophe Willem

French Bureaucracy

It doesn't make it smell any better.

Beaujolais 2006

“Dream when you’re feeling blue. Dream, and they might come true. Dream. Dream. Dream.”

As I sit perched on my balcony with a glass of red wine, I can’t imagine being anywhere else. I’m watching the activity taking place in neighboring buildings. Lights turn on and off as I get a quick peek into illuminated living rooms. The man across the street reminds me of an old Winston. He has a mélange of beautiful pictures and painting hung on huge walls throughout his house. I often wonder what it really looks like inside. Does he ever think of me? Maybe one of these days he will invite me in. There is a man in the building next to me that comes out at precisely 9:00pm every night to light a cigarette. We often nod a hello to each other. The soft perfume of the housemate below me often floats its way to my window. I can smell it now. It reminds me of strawberries and pomegranates. A car drives by blaring American 80’s grooves. What a funny country this is!

Dream ~ Michael Bubble.

Bedrooms from the 80's

Coupe du Monde de Rugby 2007

I’ve decided that I like trains. Riding the train is like being a kid again. I feel warm and cozy, wrapped up in the backseat of my mom’s stationwagon, slowly falling asleep to the lull and sway of the engine’s purr. I feel relaxed, pleasant, unassuming. Watching the other travelers in my car, I make up stories about their lives. He is a doctor from Lyon going to a conference in Paris. She has three more children at home, but this one is her favorite. She is his mistress. He hates cheese. Get a room already. I like her shoes.

On the train you can be anyone you want to be. No one knows you and no one dare break the silence to ask. Everything is declared in an intricate display of body language and facial expression.

The train stations. What a vibrant mass of energy. People coming and going. Lovers embracing. Tears. Laughter. Such powerful emotion.

« Jacques est un rêve, pas un homme. »

Eventually my train makes it to Paris and I am awakened from my dream. Oh, Paris. As much as the train reminds me of my youth, Paris pulls me out of it. The city is so romantic and daring, full of lustful energy. One glance at the Eiffel Tower and you realize why. Everything is beautiful, from the gold-laden bridges under your feet to the intricate gargoyles laughing at you from the rooftops. It makes you want to be beautiful, and then garnish yourself with a creamy white scarf.

Jacques a dit ~ Christophe Willem

Ordinary Life

I am constantly surrounded by beauty. I often fail to notice it. Looking out my window I see ornately decorated window frames with intricate renaissance shutters and fancy little box-railings. Walking to the metro I see cute bistros umbrellas covering laughing patrons and cheery-eyed pups. The metro itself is beauty with the mélange of peoples and cultures that intersect, even just for a moment, to move in the same direction. My office is located at Bellecour, or Beautiful Courtyard. That it is! Louis XIV, riding his steed, stands guard over the children at play as they laugh and giggle through the trees. I eat lunch with Louis everyday. We sit and gossip about the people that walk by.

“When I look back on my ordinary, ordinary life, I see so much magic though I missed it at the time.” ~ Jamie Cullum, musician

Last Sunday, Becky and I went to the Parc de la Tete d’Or (park of the golden head.) Oh, it is breathtaking! Elephants, zebras, giraffes, crocodiles, and bears live amongst rose gardens, exotic greenhouses, and a serene lake. We bought giant ice-cream cones and sunbathed with the sarcastic jests of a neighboring bocce game ringing in our ears.

Monday marked my first day of work. My officemates are some of the most genial people you could ever find. Crystale snuck in with a chocolate croissant for me this morning. Delicious! I was also treated to dinner by one of my bosses. She took me on a tour of the important sites of Lyon and we ended up in Vieux Lyon, or the Renaissance district. We sat on the cobblestone sidewalk of a vintage restaurant. I ordered very tradition Lyonnais dishes under Madame Moulin’s direction: salade lyonnaise, sausage in ancient mustard sauce, potatoes, steamed vegetables and Cote de Rhone.

Before we could manage to think about dessert, it started to rain. I very quickly learned that when it rains, it rains. Thunder and lightening filled the sky as the restaurant awning began to creek open above us. We were safe as the rain continued to pound above us and the lightening was drawing near. Suddenly, the awning sprung a hole and the rain welcomed itself to the middle of a dinner party sitting next to us. The women began to curse hysterically and ran inside. The rest of us laughed at their misfortune. Invariably, only minutes later, everyone began to glance agitatedly towards one another as a large moan began to grow louder and louder. Suddenly the waitress appears with a broom handle trying to push the rain off of the awning. She started screaming at the busboy as he looked at her with mix of fear and wonderment and shrugged his shoulders. Needless to say, we were all very wet before the night was over.

Fabuleux Destin d'Amelie Poulain

Today I had an “Amelie” moment. It was a fleeting glimpse of a world at peace, when everything seems perfect as the wind whips through your hair and the sun shines softly on your back. I was walking across le Pont de l’Université (University Bridge, you can see it behind my head in the photo) and suddenly, everything just felt right. I belonged. The rush of the cars honking around me, the whir of the bateaux below, the smell of the cool crisp breeze floating from the water, a glimpse of lovers strolling hand in hand.

Unfortunately, the emotion was simply flirting with me--tickling at my ears, nipping at my heels. As soon as I stepped off of the bridge, it was gone.

I forgot to place images in my last blog. One is of Becky, Me, and Leanne. Then there is Leanne and Becky climbing up the huge flight of stairs. Finally, there is a picture of the view of my street.

First Impressions

My first real taste of French life came in the form of an open air market. Everything about it was absolutely delicious. From, the old men wearing berets shouting out the price of their fish, to the immaculately groomed poodles, to the smell of saucissons in the air, it is exactly the reason why I came to France. Everything here oozes culture. Even my set of apartment keys seems daring and romantic. I want to feel a part of it all, as if I belong. Even for just a moment.

Wandering through the streets, I can’t help but be amazed at the beauty of the city. The heart of Lyon is situated between two rivers: le rhone and la saone. In this strip of land and throughout the rest of the city you can find opera houses, theatres, museums, elegant town squares, fountains, murals of life, parks, and of course les boulangeries (bakeries). The sandwiches here are to die for. They are just made of bread, butter, and cheese, but I could eat one everyday forever and never tire of them.

Really, each day is such a new adventure. I can’t describe it. My head is brimming with hope and possibilities. I have already met some amazing people from all over the world.

Today I went to the Anglican Church of Lyon. It falls under the umbrella of the Church of England. I found it on the internet. A bloody jolly good group of chaps we got there. I feel as if I have to put on a British accent just to fit in. My sense of sarcasm and dry humor has increased tremendously as a result. I met a girl named Becky from London who I think will become one of my good friends. She lives only two streets down from my flat. I also met a bloke from Scotland named Ed and a couple from Ireland, just to name a few. They all seem like great people.
After church, Becky, my new Canadian friend Leanne, and I crawled up the largest flight of stairs I have ever seen to the top of a huge hill that overlooks the city. Gorgeous!

Now I am sitting in my room wondering what to have for dinner. All the grocery stores are closed on Sunday and I only have a box of Frosted Flakes, some peanut butter, and a bottle of wine in my cupboard. I could be in for a nice treat.

I'm up to my ears in paperwork.

" I like this site because the cursor automatically falls on the 'Study Abroad and Internships' link." ~Jeanne Coe

And so it began. After casually listening to a presentation not at all intended for my ears, I sit here, French visa and one-way plane ticket in hand. What a journey of trust and tears it has been to even get to this stage. I haven't left the country yet, but God has shown his faithfulness to me in many ways. I am excited to see how he reveals his greatness to me as I face petit et grand fears and obstacles, victories and joys of many kinds.

For those of you who didn't hear my incessant ramblings about France, here is a quick update. I am working at l'Universite Catholique de Lyon at l'Institut de Langue et de Culture Francaises (ILCF). The main objective of the institute is to bring foreign students to Lyon to study French. If you are interested visit http://www.ilcf.net/ . I will be marketing the program to Americans, translating documents into English, helping with student orientation and housing, among other things. I have a small apartment off campus that I am renting and I will travel around the city by metro. (Maybe I will eventually spring for a small Vespa. I already have the dress for it.)

I will probably be very lonely, scared, and pumped on adrenaline for the first few weeks. Please keep me in your thoughts and prayers as I embark on this amazing new journey. Your words of encouragement and love will be greatly appreciated. You don't know how much a quick "Hello" can brighten my day! I love you all!