VILLAGE HOMESTAY - DAYS ONE AND TWO
So I'm doing this village homestay thing maintenent, and its so funny - first of all, my 'village' consists of about six or seven beautifully redone ancient houses and has the atmosphere of a dorm full of french holdover hippies ... its great. So far, the cast of characters includes, d'abord, ma famille d'accuiel: the dad, a mousy male nurse named patrick, the mom, a woman named mary france with the twangy central french accent that 'ng's tout les 'n's, the 20 something daughter Olivia who works for a florist and is preparing for her bac professionel in floristy, and the son, a thin, reserved 17 year old who listens to marylin manson and placebo and makes meticulously detailed ceramic sculptures of gargoyles and goat-headed images of Pan. then, the neigbors; a tall, goateed artist who drank three glasses of vin rouge during easter luncheon and asked me whether I felt like I was conscious of a being or force superior to myself; a drawling, bucktoothed (but in a good way) ex-interior decorator named dominique who lives in a house full of minimalist still lives (a ceramic bowl, a few stones, a slice of dried lemon) and spent quelques months in india in a sai baba ashram; her daughter, a lively, tomboyish brunette who is apperently adopted from somewhere slightly exotic, though I have yet to divine exactly where; a little brunette fourtysomething with bizarrely enlarged tear ducts (I think that's what was going on) who spent about twenty minutes explaining to me how to make an eastern french cabbage dish flavored with juniper (side note - josh I saw and ate berries off of a wild juniper bush that was seriously as big as a tree, it must have been a million years old) that turned out to be basically saurbraten, and her husband, who at one point in the weekend had to admit semi-apologetically that though he's interested in things like that, he just can't bring himself to beleive in energy emitted by crystals, he's just too scientific. I also met, breifly, the village's oldest residents, a couple in maybe their seventies, one of whom was born in morocco, and, las but most definately not least, this maybe thirty year old man with the most amawing bass voice, hair past his shoulders, and toujours a little silver indian-style feather earing in one ear who is basically the local shaman and led us all in this ridiculous (but great - pour moi, des adjectives comme 'bizarre' et 'absurd' sont des compliments) amer-indian drum ceremony ('tambours pour la terre')the night I arrived ... more about that later. Also, he can throat sing, hardcore throat sing so he makes real melodies with the overtone, and play this amerindian-style reed flute with a few beads and an eagle feather dangling from it. Oh and his wife - she's a cutie. She started us all playing with the echo off a distant mountain for about twenty minutes when she heard the dog's bark echoing off it.
there are also an amazing host of dogs and cats - my family has two amazing cats and beautiful and amazingly well behaved (for a two year old) half loup; chez dominique there's a rotweiler named sakti, and chez the other neighbors there's a little terrier mix named rasta. no one locks their doors and people just drop by and walk in and out of eachother's houses, and everyone's always having people over for communal teas and luncheons (this might have been becuase of the holiday, though) and going on communal hikes - the atmosphere seriously is like a midlife version of a college dorm. Its more or less my dream, actually - the other day, we had this oral exam, and leila (the examiner) asked us where we wanted to live when we grew up, and I gave some rambling response to the effect of I love the country and I love going for walks in the woods and seeing weird animals and finding weird plants, but I don't like being isolated, I like having lots of people around to hang out and do things with, and I like being around places where I can dance and hear music, so my dream would be to live in the country with all my freinds and have all of them learn to play an instument and throw ethnic dance parties. And, minus the dance parties (though if one materilalized sooner or later I wouln't be surprised), that's more or less the atmosphere here.
okay I'm going to backtrack and describe the events of my stay here from the beginning. Our group took a train, then a bus to a touristy little 'village' (it was really more of a small town) that was about a half hour from the train station and partook in a wonderful little luncheon beside a river, during which I made two new elderly occitain boyfreinds (to add to the harem i've started at art class) one in his seventies with a great beret and amish style mustacheless white beard who explained to me that I was like a bear(because of the ring in my nose) but beautiful, and one in his late eighties who was basically blind and almost deaf who told me a joke about a farmer who had placed an ad in the paper for a wife with a list of qualities, and got a response from a tractor, then when I didn't understand because he had the thickest southern accent every, he kept repating the punchline and laughing while his beardy freind translated it for me. later he gave a little speach welcoming us to the region and talking about the ways it had changed over the years, which he concluded by having us each in turn name the state we came from, so he could name the capital. Which he did, which was damn impressive, because I can't remember all the capitals and I'm eighty something.
we then watched/ participated in a demontration of traditional dance by a troup of locals (who nevertheless had a dance gig coming up in, of all places, china) in period clothing, during whiche my family arrived and whisked me away to chez eux. We stopped on the way at the breadmakers to buy bread, cider (which, incidentally, doesn't exist here in nonalchoholic form), and apple juice - the breadmaker (who was described to me beforehand as 'very natural') whose face was framed by a bushman's hair and beard, lived in an ancient house with wooden shutters and a wood stove, raised rabbits and I beleive some other animils that were currently out to pasture, and had a barn on the back full of crates of apple juice and cider, many of which had apparently exploded recently because of the cold. We tasted some in his dim kitchen with its wood stove, and it was noticably stronger than usual, whihc he explained was a cause de the apples being unusually sweet that year.
we then went next door to parle a bit with an ancient spanish man named sanchez, who lived in an equally ancient stone house with a wood stove and three cats. We talked mostly about health things - one of their freinds' leg wound was apparently becoming gangrenous; another freind had broken his arm and healed it sans doctor using this ancient herb that looks like a bizarre mushroom that apparently helps bones calcify.
We then left and arrived in tarrac (that's the name of my village, though i don't know how its spelled) and I was shown into the petite guest house witht he fun little loft bedroom where I'd be staying. I put my stuff away and went to the other house to hang out with the fam - dominique then showed up and walked in, knocking on the doorjamb, and we had tea. It was then that the 'tambours pour la terre' soiree was explained to me - apparently, in south america, some indian tribes thought that if enough people played drums with enough devotion at the same time, they could change the world, presumably for the better, so they arranged a certain day for all the tribes to do it, and tonight, the residents of tarrac were drumming to change the world.
but that wasn't till after dinner. Before dinner, I went with patrick and dominique's daughter (plus sakti and the demiloup) to move the three adorable tiny shetland ponies and ancient white horse to a differnt pasture, and watched the dogs chase them up this pristine green hill, and between the trees of this beautiful woodland. Olivia came home from the florist about 5:30 with a handful of these bizzare frilly parroquet tulips that were apparently flower of the year, and we ate dinner around seven. For dinner we had green soup made from a wild herb patrick had picked that was supposedly rich in everything, which we mixed with couscous and creme fraiche, plus fried rice with vegetables. Tout la famille (sauf theirry, who stayed in his room listening to a nirvana CD) then left for the indian soirée, which went down as follows; everyone arrived chez dominique and sat in a circle around her fire; everyoen either brough a percussion instrument or was given one (i received one of those little doublesided hand drums with bits of wood on string on either side, that you spin to make noise). We warmed our drums a bit over the fire, then the local shaman axplained to us (in his rich, soothing bass) the signifigance of the holiday, and we started to drum. The shaman then led us in some amerindianny sounding songs that definately were not in french, then throat sang, then played wood flute while patrick played digeridoo, then led us in a group recitation of the syllables 'ma' and 'om', which we were supposed to sing while visualizing the earth in the center of our circle. All in all, a good time.
this morning, I slept till quarter to eleven (partly because of daylight savings time, partly becuase I was absolutely, utterly exhausted, having gotten presque no sleep the night be fore, à cause de having one of the best nights of my life) ate breakfast, walked down to a little stream with olivia to look at the wildflowers, then returned to the house for lunch with the residents of the town, then coffee and desert chez dominique. After desert, we went on a hike, which was beautiful, then came back, had tea and croustillade (i think thats the name - i'm gonna have to figure it out, cause its hella delish), then called my parents (which was more my parents' idea than mine - everyone here seems so amazed that its possible for me to spend so much time away from my family) then dinner, etc.
crazy days, but I love it. but oh my god I should get off my family's internet becuase i just realized that this uses the phonelines so they're paying for my writing time.
there are also an amazing host of dogs and cats - my family has two amazing cats and beautiful and amazingly well behaved (for a two year old) half loup; chez dominique there's a rotweiler named sakti, and chez the other neighbors there's a little terrier mix named rasta. no one locks their doors and people just drop by and walk in and out of eachother's houses, and everyone's always having people over for communal teas and luncheons (this might have been becuase of the holiday, though) and going on communal hikes - the atmosphere seriously is like a midlife version of a college dorm. Its more or less my dream, actually - the other day, we had this oral exam, and leila (the examiner) asked us where we wanted to live when we grew up, and I gave some rambling response to the effect of I love the country and I love going for walks in the woods and seeing weird animals and finding weird plants, but I don't like being isolated, I like having lots of people around to hang out and do things with, and I like being around places where I can dance and hear music, so my dream would be to live in the country with all my freinds and have all of them learn to play an instument and throw ethnic dance parties. And, minus the dance parties (though if one materilalized sooner or later I wouln't be surprised), that's more or less the atmosphere here.
okay I'm going to backtrack and describe the events of my stay here from the beginning. Our group took a train, then a bus to a touristy little 'village' (it was really more of a small town) that was about a half hour from the train station and partook in a wonderful little luncheon beside a river, during which I made two new elderly occitain boyfreinds (to add to the harem i've started at art class) one in his seventies with a great beret and amish style mustacheless white beard who explained to me that I was like a bear(because of the ring in my nose) but beautiful, and one in his late eighties who was basically blind and almost deaf who told me a joke about a farmer who had placed an ad in the paper for a wife with a list of qualities, and got a response from a tractor, then when I didn't understand because he had the thickest southern accent every, he kept repating the punchline and laughing while his beardy freind translated it for me. later he gave a little speach welcoming us to the region and talking about the ways it had changed over the years, which he concluded by having us each in turn name the state we came from, so he could name the capital. Which he did, which was damn impressive, because I can't remember all the capitals and I'm eighty something.
we then watched/ participated in a demontration of traditional dance by a troup of locals (who nevertheless had a dance gig coming up in, of all places, china) in period clothing, during whiche my family arrived and whisked me away to chez eux. We stopped on the way at the breadmakers to buy bread, cider (which, incidentally, doesn't exist here in nonalchoholic form), and apple juice - the breadmaker (who was described to me beforehand as 'very natural') whose face was framed by a bushman's hair and beard, lived in an ancient house with wooden shutters and a wood stove, raised rabbits and I beleive some other animils that were currently out to pasture, and had a barn on the back full of crates of apple juice and cider, many of which had apparently exploded recently because of the cold. We tasted some in his dim kitchen with its wood stove, and it was noticably stronger than usual, whihc he explained was a cause de the apples being unusually sweet that year.
we then went next door to parle a bit with an ancient spanish man named sanchez, who lived in an equally ancient stone house with a wood stove and three cats. We talked mostly about health things - one of their freinds' leg wound was apparently becoming gangrenous; another freind had broken his arm and healed it sans doctor using this ancient herb that looks like a bizarre mushroom that apparently helps bones calcify.
We then left and arrived in tarrac (that's the name of my village, though i don't know how its spelled) and I was shown into the petite guest house witht he fun little loft bedroom where I'd be staying. I put my stuff away and went to the other house to hang out with the fam - dominique then showed up and walked in, knocking on the doorjamb, and we had tea. It was then that the 'tambours pour la terre' soiree was explained to me - apparently, in south america, some indian tribes thought that if enough people played drums with enough devotion at the same time, they could change the world, presumably for the better, so they arranged a certain day for all the tribes to do it, and tonight, the residents of tarrac were drumming to change the world.
but that wasn't till after dinner. Before dinner, I went with patrick and dominique's daughter (plus sakti and the demiloup) to move the three adorable tiny shetland ponies and ancient white horse to a differnt pasture, and watched the dogs chase them up this pristine green hill, and between the trees of this beautiful woodland. Olivia came home from the florist about 5:30 with a handful of these bizzare frilly parroquet tulips that were apparently flower of the year, and we ate dinner around seven. For dinner we had green soup made from a wild herb patrick had picked that was supposedly rich in everything, which we mixed with couscous and creme fraiche, plus fried rice with vegetables. Tout la famille (sauf theirry, who stayed in his room listening to a nirvana CD) then left for the indian soirée, which went down as follows; everyone arrived chez dominique and sat in a circle around her fire; everyoen either brough a percussion instrument or was given one (i received one of those little doublesided hand drums with bits of wood on string on either side, that you spin to make noise). We warmed our drums a bit over the fire, then the local shaman axplained to us (in his rich, soothing bass) the signifigance of the holiday, and we started to drum. The shaman then led us in some amerindianny sounding songs that definately were not in french, then throat sang, then played wood flute while patrick played digeridoo, then led us in a group recitation of the syllables 'ma' and 'om', which we were supposed to sing while visualizing the earth in the center of our circle. All in all, a good time.
this morning, I slept till quarter to eleven (partly because of daylight savings time, partly becuase I was absolutely, utterly exhausted, having gotten presque no sleep the night be fore, à cause de having one of the best nights of my life) ate breakfast, walked down to a little stream with olivia to look at the wildflowers, then returned to the house for lunch with the residents of the town, then coffee and desert chez dominique. After desert, we went on a hike, which was beautiful, then came back, had tea and croustillade (i think thats the name - i'm gonna have to figure it out, cause its hella delish), then called my parents (which was more my parents' idea than mine - everyone here seems so amazed that its possible for me to spend so much time away from my family) then dinner, etc.
crazy days, but I love it. but oh my god I should get off my family's internet becuase i just realized that this uses the phonelines so they're paying for my writing time.