Literally
translated to ‘the spring of Bourges’, this music festival was one of the best
and most memorable experiences of my year so far! We braved the weather, which
was a disheartening drizzle that I can still see outside the window, and spent
the week listening to music in every form
On Monday,
traveling with the special permission of the head of our Rotary district, a
gaggle of girls arrived at my friend’s house for the festival. These girls are
fellow exchange students “des pays lointains” (from far-away countries) as my host sister put it, and come from:
Mexico, Argentina, Australia, Sweden, and Illinois. I slept over with them on
Monday night, and since their French hostess had to work during the vacation, I
acted as their local guide. We had lunch at the house before leaving to explore
the festival on Tuesday. While some cordon-bleu
was being heated-up for the lunch in the kitchen, I was kidnapped by two
forebodingly eager girls (Swedish and Mexican, just for anyone keeping track)
and told that I was about to undergo a make-over. After about an hour of being
attack with strange and unknown instruments (will somebody please explain the
use of clear mascara to me? of eyebrow-definer? or anti-wrinkle foundation for
an 18-year-old girl?) and the accidental melting of at least one plastic comb,
my hair was straight and my maquillage
impeccable. We left after eating did our first tour of the festival, browsing
the stands which carried the same genre of hippie-inspired products that you
will find at most US outdoor festival (think Whole Earth for those of you from
Davis). However, most US festivals don’t have nearly the same number of crêpe stands (mmmm…I highly recommend a crêpe à la crème de marrons, or with a sugary
chestnut spread, gooey and hot on the inside).
Tuesday evening
I had a Rotary dinner- this dinner was special because it was a theme dinner
sun by a member of the club with a passion for old French songs. When I
arrived, I was surprised to find The
Artist- style false pencil mustaches drawn onto most of the male members’
faces. Even my ever dignified councilor allowed his wife to draw a mustache on
his upper lip. I heard a large number of old songs entirely now to me, and was
pleased with myself to have actually recognized two of them! This meeting was
also my one big chance to give a presentation on my life in the US and on my
exchange year. The first five or so slides went swimmingly, my club appreciated
pictures of my hometown and family, and smiled at my commentary; but when I got
the second part I realized that I had actually put up the wrong version of the
power point! Worse than that, the rough draft that I was displaying behind me
was not only completely unfinished it contained the humorous and sarcastic
comments which one bored Australian girl had filled on my slides. I turn around
the find the following commentary blown up on the wall:
“Grace a
Rotary je… (Thanks to Rotary I…)
·
Peux
faire l’equitation (Can do horse-back
riding)
·
Peux
faire le scuba-diving (Can go scuba diving)
·
Connais une fille australienne TROP COOL. (Know an Australian girl WAY COOL.)
·
Connais aussi des filles qui viennent des autres
pays. Meurgh. (Also know girls who come from other
countries. Meurgh.)”
I can
assure you, as I assured my Rotary club, cheeks blushing, that the real finished product was actually quite
polished and nice. In fact, I usually
take a great deal of pride in my presentations and public speaking. So as the
chuckles spread throughout the room, and my hasty excuses left me PowerPoint-less,
I finished the presentation on the fly. I hope I still communicated what I
wanted to say; which was what great experience this year has already been for
me and the many ways it has changed my outlook on life and hopes for the
future. Thankfully, I have a Rotary club with a good sense of humor and at the
end of my impromptu speech; I was told that at the very least, they knew that
what I said came from the heart and wasn’t over prepared. The accompanying
grins told me that while my presentation was perhaps not the most successful
ever given, it did not go entirely unappreciated.
After the
dinner, I left to head home and sleep at my host family’s house, early the next
morning I took the bus back to the house where my exchange friends were staying.
Making my way from the bus stop to the house through the rain and wind, made
the hour seem all the earlier (as a teenager on vacation I have every right to
consider 9:30 early). This arrival time was due to the limited number of buses
from the village where my host family lives into town- and so when I arrived at
the house, finding all the girls still sound asleep, I simply set out my
battered umbrella to dry, kicked off my shoes and crawled onto the same blow-up
mattress I had slept on Monday night. Few hours later, we were ready to start
the day.
Wednesday
afternoon was sunnier than on Tuesday and so we had a lot of fun enjoying the
outdoor stands and concerts, until we met up with Louison for our concert that
night. We all went to go see Revolver, Izia, Dionysis and Shakaponk. I did not
know any of these bands before going to see them and they ended up being an
energetic mix of rock and techno which kept us dancing the whole concert. I
didn’t stay with the girls because I had planned on meeting up with two of my
best friends from school ahead of time. We had a ton of fun, but when the last
band’s lights display finally proved too much for us, we moved to the court
yard outside and ended up talking philosophy over hot crêpes until the concert let out. I met up with the girls, who were ready
to stay out longer, and listen to the open concerts which were all over the
town, but the steady drizzled and my slight shivers motivated me to leave with
the group who was heading home early.
This was a
good decision as that meant that the next day I was in form for another
afternoon of festival going and second concert, just as large as the first that
night with my second host sister. We saw four bands play, the first two I don’t
remember the names of but the second two were Sue Lahsue and Charlie Winston.
They were less rock than the last night’s concert but even more incredible. My
ears were ringing for hours afterwards. I slept over at my second host family’s
house after the concert and the next morning got up early once again to say
good-bye to the exchange group before they headed to the train station. During
all this time, changing houses and sleeping over, I realized how lucky I am to
be welcome so many places. I also received this text message from my host mom,
all in good humor:
“Be
Careful! During the Printemps there
are a lot of exchange students who disappear… But they reappear afterwards!!
Lol!”
So you can
understand why, after a final tour of the stands for souvenirs and my first Pad
Thai lunch in nearly nine months, I was pleased to head home to my host family
Friday afternoon. It was a pleasure to sleep in my own bed. (Actually, in the
fold-out couch next to my bed, which
my host sister is sleeping in while she’s home from college on vacation. But still it was still nice).
So that was
the end of my action-filled week… or was it? No, because Saturday night I was
up and away once again to go and see Dracula,
the musical, touring in the near-by city of Orléans! My second host sister,
host mom and I had bought the tickets months ago and we were ready to see the
show. This French musical was truly incredible, not only was the story nicely
adapted from Bram Stocker’s book, the costumes and decoration made for a
fantastic and totally absorbing atmosphere. The singing was impressive, but the
dancing- especially the pas de deux
between Dracula and the heroine, Mina- had the ballet side of me practically
drooling for the entire musicale. I wish I could dance like that- no, actually
I wished I could just have the privilege of watching other people dance like
that all the time, because it must me a lot of very hard work. In any case, the
three of us really enjoyed the musical, and I slept at my second host family’s
house once again after we got to Bourges late that night. Sunday I had
breakfast, caught up on the latest episode of Glee with my host sister and then
had lunch with my second host family, before heading home once and for all for
the vacation.
Monday, May
1, I got to participate in a French May Day tradition. I’ve always known that
the birth flower for the month of May (my birth flower) is the lily of the
valley but I never knew what it looked like. Well now I’ve got a vase of it,
called muguet in French, in front of
me and if my nose weren’t stuffed up, I’m sure that I would be able to smell it
from across the table. The First of every May, it is traditional to go look for
muguet in the woods, and the first sprig brought home spring good luck. As May
1 is also the French Labor Day, everybody was off of work and we went out in
full force, even the grandparents and uncle who had come for lunch.
Unfortunately nobody thought to tell me that it was only the first sprig which
was lucky, and I left my good luck muguet in the woods somewhere when I cut the
stem to short. So I suppose if my good luck is lacking in the near future,
we’ll know why… Actually, we were lucky to find any muguet at all since it’s
been such a cold and rainy spring and it wasn’t blooming yet. In addition all
the creeks which wind through the nearby wood were going in full force, and by
the time we had courageously persisted in our trek across marshes and over (or
in several of our cases, unintentionally through) rushing brooks, our shoes
felt a few kilos heavier in mud. But in the end persistence prevails and we
came triumphantly back to the car- where the grandparents, acting on their
wisdom, had long since returned- clutching spring bouquets of muguet in our
fists. It was a good day.
For the
second week of vacation, so far I’ve been very much a homebody, but that
doesn’t mean I’ve been completely unproductive. So far I’ve made homemade
banana bread, apple pie and chicken noodle soup (with homemade stock) for my
host family, all to success. I also took advantage of the sunshine yesterday to
go for a run and to finish La Promesse de
l’aube and the French translation of Slumdog
Millionaire out on the porch. Today, Friday, is my host sister’s day off of
work (though she works Saturday) so we took the opportunity to walk to pick up
the family’s car from a garage in a nearby village. It may be a good idea to
mention that my host sister is 21, and therefore has her driver’s license, even
under the French requirement of being 18 to drive. The country roads were quiet
and the fields are speckled with buttercups, and we got to the garage, which is
owned and operated by a family friend, in just 45 minutes. Learning that the
tank was just about empty, we just barely made it to the gas station, where it
cost no less than 111€ to fill up the tank.
And we complain about our gas prices…
As I’ve currently got
a slight cold, tonight I plan to curl up with a cup of tea. My host family
tells me that I probably caught cold while out walking around in the rain last
week, or tromping through marshes on Monday. It’s a good thing that they’re
fans of tea- as I’m writing this I’m going through about my fourth cup today.
It’s hard for me to believe that I only have a month left before I leave for
the Eurotrip and a whirlwind of travel before saying my good-byes and leaving
in July. I plan to live these next few weeks here to the maximum, but at the
same time I have trouble wrapping my mind around how fleeting my time left here
is.
-I apologize for the
lack of pictures. We can’t figure out how to connect my laptop to the Wi-Fi, so
it’s harder for me to add the pictures in later when I’m on my host family’s
computer. In any case I hope that my post was sufficiently long and
sufficiently descriptive to make up for it!
No comments:
Post a Comment