French Milestone #3

This evening I celebrated International Day of the Woman with a whole stadium at the Tours vs. Sète professional men's volleyball game. A few guys from my men's regional team were seated up in the stands together like a good volleyball mafia family, so we watched together as TVB won handily.

We caught the tram back to Saint-Cyr and bantered the whole way.  Now, granted, #1 these guys are joksters (most of the time they're laughing anyway because they'll laugh at almost anything), #2 they are accustomed to my accent and humoring me, and #3 it isn't always easy to differentiate whether they are laughing at me or with me, but - audience aside - I'm pretty sure I was on fire tonight.  I made a couple of well-timed zingers that genuinely made this whole group of native french guys laugh out loud.  Ahhhh - felt so good!  Group laughter is a new high for me - so I thought I'd share!  :)

Alright, that's all for now.  More later!

Random Ramblings - Part III

Forget About It

The French say "laisser tomber" like gangsters say "forget about it".  What does it mean??  Make up your minds!!!

A Tall Drink of Anything

You know the feeling when you order a large orange juice at a diner and you're super let down when it comes out because it's 8 oz?  Imagine a whole country with cupboards packed full of this special brand of diner-sized disappointments.  French cups are designed for sipping on much smaller serving sizes.  I now guzzle juice directly from the carton and (more often than not) while standing in front of the refrigerator.  I know - it's sad - but it doesn't make sense to dirty a glass for one gulp...  it's not even a big gulp.  Hehe... ;)

Basic Instincts

Dropping Billy off at the airport reminded me that I haven't seen a wax paper toilet seat cover in a while.  In fact, you're lucky if you get a toilet seat at all in most public restrooms around here.  And, oh, instead of the little handle, the French use a myriad of levers, buttons, and hand-sized trick-door-style contraptions to flush their business.  Each visit to the lou is followed by a multiple choice quiz:  a. #1, b. #2, or c. all of the above.  You can normally choose c (all options available) without fail, and yes, sometimes you still have to jiggle it a little.  Ha!

A Long Story Where Nothing Happens

This morning I checked out of my hostel in the 1st arrondissement (between the Louvre and the Pompidou), and, at around 9am headed up to the 9th arrondissement to compare a cheap apartment I found on auboncoin.fr (which is like French craigslist) with another hostel from the same company (Bureau des Voyages de la Jeunesse or BVJ - kinda like French YMCA).  I also went straight away to check out the Bikram yoga studio in Montmartre.  The studio is amazing and I can't wait to get in and get started.  Today will be my fifth day in a row and I'm feeling more determined than ever.

After popping my head into the studio (which is also beautiful and fully-equipped with mats and showers), I set out to hunt down the hostel.  It was a short five minute walk away, but when I arrived, the thick blue doors were closed and locked and there was no answer when I buzzed the front desk.  Hmmmm...  I dialed the number for this hostel and who picks up but the guy who just checked me out at the Louvre location!  Yep.  They told me this location doesn't open until tomorrow, and that I needed to go back and stay one more night at the Louvre location. So, this got me thinking that maybe the apartment was going to be the best course of action since these hostel people were not doing the most stand-out job.  Maybe if this apartment really sucks AND if the price is right...

By this time, I had been schlepping my bags all over the metro and Montmartre for a few hours and my shoulders were begging me for a break.  I found a cute little corner cafe that looked like an appropriate spot to people-watch and bang out some postcards, so I sat down at a tiny outdoor table.  After about ten minutes I realized no one had seen me sit down, so I popped my head in and asked if it was okay that I sit "there" indicating the location of my tucked away table.  They said no problem and sit down and we'll be right out to take your order.  So, five minutes later, server #1 popped out to take my order.  Cappuccino??  No problem.  I was forewarned that the milk takes at least five good minutes for her to properly froth.  I said that was absolutely fine as I was especially fond of a frothy foam.  Flash forward five minutes and out comes said server with a cigarette and a friend.  I just patiently wrote second-hand-smoked cappuccino-less postcards.  I thought for sure she's going to come right out after her cigarette break with this coffee...  Nop!  Four postcards later and almost an hour after I had originally sat down I thought, "Okay, there is no foam on earth luxurious enough to merit this wait", so I popped in to cancel my order.  My servers eyes doubled in size when I told her I was still waiting for my coffee.  She shot daggers at server #2 (who said, "Here it is!" and pulled my cappuccino out of the refrigerator???).  I told them not to worry about it and took off laughing a little to myself and in hopes of finding some speedier service...

So, there I was, installing me and my bag-lady-like assortment of gear at cafe #2.  I ordered and enjoyed a cappuccino.  Brilliant.  The bill came and forty-five minutes later I finally came to terms with the fact that no one was coming back to pick up my money and bring change (since I didn't have the exact amount).  Oh man.  Here we go again.  Ha (by now I was laughing a little less enthusiastically)!  I jumped up and loaded my shoulders with luggage and brought my tab with the money inside.  Server #2 accepted the bill with incorrect change and quickly brought it to server #1, who was casually flipping through the morning paper, and didn't even turn around, but instead burped out a "Merci!" as if to accept my incorrect change as a tip for ignoring me for an hour.  I literally stood and stared in disbelief, mouth agape, in the direction of the back of my server's head.  I honestly did not know what to do next.  Finally, the barmaid broke the silence - "Are you all settled?" she asked.  I replied, "I'm settled, but I haven't received my change yet."  Server #2 brought over my change and I rallied my caffeine-calibrated body parts to find this apartment...

Once I had properly explored this neighborhood and deemed it as safe and cheap and a great way to get out of the most touristy parts of Paris, I arrived at the apartment building as-advertised.  The ground floor was spiffy with an enclosed courtyard and glass doors and beautiful spiral staircases, but - not unlike many apartment buildings in Paris - as I climbed up six stories the stairs, the walls, the ceilings, the welcome mats appeared less and less storybook...  By the time I got to the sixth floor; there was a solid stench, the wall paper was discolored and peeling, and the ceiling was dripping with a questionably dank substance.  First, the landlady showed me the working toilet on the floor, equipped with one tiny wrought-iron-barred window.  From there she steered me down a narrow hallway, a walk that had me wondering which dingy apartment door was hoarding the toilet seat...  Haha!  Finally upon unlocking the door to possibly my own place in Paris for the next five nights, I discovered that the "apartment" was the size of my mom's walk-in closet.  Oh my gosh - so small!  Free wifi, yes, working kitchen, yes, heater, yes, clean sheets and towels, yes...  I wondered what was exactly the price of privacy (as that was exactly the opportunity cost here).  I left, thanking the landlady for her time and apologetically admitting that I was not prepared to pay 235 euro for four nights in hell (she pounced a last-minute 100 euro deposit on me - huh?).  I jumped on the bus back to the Louvre hostel location and happily unloaded my things in my original room (assuring myself that - no matter what the price - clean and safe was an unbeatable combination)...

With little time to spare, I was off to yoga!  On my walk to the studio I spotted a - hold up, what?!?! - MEXICAN restaurant.  With burrito on the brain, my concentration in class suffered, so much so, in fact, that while the rest of the class conquered the spinal and seated series' I was already settling into cheese enchiladas.  I ate and tried to grasp how much like a sitcom my day had been.  Not much of anything happened and, at the end of it all, I ended up exactly where I started.

Still, in Paris - here, where the streets are paved with poodle poop - the fun never ends!

The Incredible Story of One Lucky Mitten

After the farmer's market this morning, I headed north on my bike to stock up on staples that don't grow from the ground here like maple syrup, muesli, and oat milk.  Once inside Auchan (European Walmart equivalent that normally makes me think deeply about the Russian anarchist group Voina, but that's a different talk show...) I noticed that one of my new gloves was missing!  I immediately retraced my steps back to the bike rack, but turned up nothing.

After coffee and shopping I retraced my bike route home scouring the ground for one bright green mitten.  Turning around the second time, I started hearing my boss at SweetWARE in the back of my head quoting Einstein "Insanity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results."  I'm having visions of Tom Robbins' Skinny Legs and All, my bright green mitten bravely striking out on it's own and making it's way in the world with other escaped inanimate objects.  This was craziness, and I loved these gloves so much...  I was determined to reunite this perfect pair.

Flash forward three hours, I'm walking and looking.  After no more than fifteen minutes of walking up the street like a crazy person with one glove on (which apparently is the international sign language for "I've lost a glove")  I hear a woman from across the street yell "Madame!"  Yeah?  She's sitting at the bus stop about to catch a bus going the opposite direction.  You will not believe this.  She goes, "Have you lost a glove?"  I reply, "Why yes, I have!"  What a coincidence!  I cross the street and she explains that she picked up my other glove on the bike path a few hours ago and took it home.  She happens to live nearby and can get it for me and it will only take a second...  We walk together for a minute (I'm feeling much less crazy by now) and I agree to wait on a bench outside the entryway to her building.

A few minutes later, an old woman wearing kinda outlandish jewelry and a disheveled hair cut cops a squat next to me and almost sets her scarf on fire lighting her cigarette.  She asks me if I'm visiting someone here.  I tell her I'm waiting for someone.  Not much time passes before I see two people in scrubs leaving the building, which is when I ask the woman next to me if this is a hospital.  She says, "YES, this is a psychiatric hospital."  Uhhh...  The crazy is starting to creep back.  Haha!  Now, I'm sitting here wondering if this lady is going to come back with a rubber ducky declaring "Here's your glove back!" ...or just forget about me entirely.  Wrong on both counts.  Wonderful woman #1 restores peace to my universe and I walk home (so overjoyed) with two warm hands.

Sick and Tired (In the Best Possible Way... Hehe)

Starting my sixth week of a fifteen week jump training program called Air Alert!  My body is beat, but I'm jumping higher all the time.

Also, my jump serve is steadily improving.  Maguy has helped me in practices to systematically fix one thing at a time.  First, she fixed how I hold my serving hand.  Second, she fixed how I hold the ball.  Next, she fixed the height of my toss.  Then, she fixed how far I stand back from the end line and the size of my steps.  Finally, how high my hand is at the point of contact.  Now, for the first time in my life (and thanks entirely to Maguy) I can confidently say that I have a killer jump serve.  Woohoo!

On Sunday, we lost to the third seed in our league (25-22, 25-7, 25-20).  I can't even describe how frustrating this game was...  What an emotional roller coaster!  We came so close in the first set only to totally implode in the second set - starting out badly with a slough of unforced errors and then ending in a disappointing 12 point rut (stuck in a rotation we just could not sideout).  I didn't even make it to the service line...  Competing in that third set was not enough of a consolation to comfort us from the single digit shut out.  Ugh!  After it was over, I just went to the sideline and wept.  The locker room was quiet, but I wanted more than anything to tell my team, "I'm sick of losing.  I know we can compete with these teams!"  So, I just blurted it out...  Everyone was looking at me like, "Uhh.  You're speaking in English."  Haha!  Here's what I was having trouble with:

AVOIR MARRE DE - to be sick/tired of
j'ai marre de
tu as marre de
il/elle a marre de
noux avons marre de
vous avez marre de
ils/elles ont marre de

RIVALISER - to compete
je rivalise
tu rivalises
il/elle rivalise
nous rivalisons
vous rivalisez
ils/elles rivalisent

So, the phrase would've been:
"J'ai marre de perdre.  Je sais qu'on puisse rivaliser avec ces équipes là."

I'm more fired up than ever to WIN and I believe our team is right around the corner from really performing.  This week, I'm taking Maguy's advice and tapering my double days.  All this down time is freeing me up to rest, write, and chomp at the bit...  I'm excited to have a great practice tonight and blow our rivals out of the water this weekend!

French Milestone #2

Someone asked me for directions!  Yay!

I was riding home from a record-speed shopping stop today and a nicely dressed older woman stopped me to ask where the nearest Picard (French frozen foods store) was.  After barely containing my excitement about being asked for directions by a (possibly senile?) native French speaking person in the first place, I apologized that I wasn't sure, wished her a fine day, and pedaled ahead.  Sure enough, less than a minute later I spotted the Picard.  I wasn't going to miss this opportunity to help someone in need (it's a very rare role reversal these days...).  So, I pulled a uey to let her know that it wasn't much further up ahead on her right.  Nothing like a French Milestone and a good deed all rolled into one to make today a great day!

Fun with Verbs!

Here are some of my favorite new verbs in French!

faire valloir - to make the most of
focaliser - to focus
mener - to lead
mouvoir - to drive, propel, move
parachever - to perfect
parvenir - to reach, succeed in
percer - to break through
planer - to soar
pointer - to sharpen, aim, check off
potentialiser - to increase the effect of
pourchasser - to pursue
rentabiliser - to make profitable
surélever - to heighten, raise
tâter - to feel out
taper - to bounce
turbiner - to work, toil
valoriser - to increase the value of
vivifier - to invigorate

... and last, but certainly not least!!
zozoter - to lisp

Their word for LISP is even meaner than ours!  Isn't that crazy?!?
Je zozote
Tu zozotes
Il/elle zozote
Nous zozotons
Vous zozotez
Ils/elles zozotent

...SO MEAN!

French Milestone #1

I finally dreamed in French!  Yay!

We were on the beach and this huge humpback whale was coming up close to the shore and turning over and for some reason I had an exacto knife.  A long narrow part of the whale came crashing down on me so that, for a moment, my world shrunk down to (from the ground up):  sand, exacto knife, the left side of my face, the rest of my head, a very heavy whale part.  I wasn't scared.  Instead, I felt pure shock, followed immediately by complete curiosity.  I found a way to relax there and to signal to everyone on the beach that I was alright.  It wasn't long before I was in front of a mirror in a nearby beach house putting the finishing touches on my white linen outfit.  Tim Kelly from Bring It Promotions came in to announce the details of our evening outing (French reality TV show style).  Haha - so weird!

It's such a relief that this milestone has been reached.  Dream in French.  Check.  :)

Random Ramblings - Part I

51

There's a 51 bus here!  I swear to God...  I was walking down the street and BAM! there was the freaking 51!!!!!  Ahahah - hilarious.  I almost had to sit down on the side of the road I was laughing so hard.  One day - when I'm really homesick - I'm going to ride that line from end to end and dream about the Bay Area.  Ha!  The 51...  We've shared so many good times...

No 666

There's no 666 here.  I found this out in a very absurd way!  Walking into town on a race day, I passed by two guys still proudly sporting their runner's numbers.  One of them was 666!  So I did what any normal American would do - I pointed and laughed in a way that invited everyone to join in - he just looked down and looked back up and gave me the "What, did I forget to zip?!!?" look.  We continued walking in opposite directions, everyone very confused.

Pick a Lane

They don't have lanes in the community pool here, so swimming is like playing a game of frogger.  If you know me, you know that I am a very weak swimmer.  So, as you can imagine, I am like a baby elephant under there...  I've kicked plenty of people and been caught (on a few occasions) accidentally/intentionally dirty looking some individuals who just stand right in the middle.  I haven't built up enough courage to ask them why they just stand there in the middle of the pool causing others to go out of their way to swim around, but one of these days when my anger has subsided I will find a way to ask nicely.

Pre-game Routine  

To prepare the regional men's team for their first match, I wanted to encourage them to find a pre-game routine.  However, I didn't know how to say "pre-game routine", so I decided to just describe what I do to prepare for a match and asked them what they call that.  They said "obsessive compulsive disorder".  Wah wah!

There's more, but I can't think of it, so that's all for now.  More later!

Poetry is Bravery

Last week I picked up a mini magazine called PROG! at my local newsstand/coffee shop/bar.  The postcard-sized booklet advertises 24 pages worth of cool cultural happenings in and around Tours.  Lo and behold!  The first Monday of every month, a café in Tours Centre hosts a free *keyword* poetry reading.  So, before my usual Monday night sauna and swimming sesh, I built up some courage and jumped on the tram to find some poets, poems, and poetry.  Oh la la! 

Opening the thick door to the café, I realized that the average age was 62 (this number was significantly lowered by one young suicidal-looking gentleman).  Central themes were nature, family, love and tenderness.  Under normal circumstances, this poetry might induce vomiting.  However, since I was too distracted by the meanings of the words (pronounced loudly and clearly), the poetry reading became more like an extraordinary listening exercise.  We went around the room and everyone read something…  Luckily, before I left the house, I jotted down a few of my favorite poems from Birds of Arizona, by William Moor (just in case - anticipating that I might need some material myself).  Here is what I read:

Greater White-fronted Goose

And

june

Mallard

I

Cinnamon Teal

Mandela and when you are going

Ruddy Duck

A house plan

Wild Turkey

If

all

of the

huge

cost

all of

us

all

just

Montezuma Quail

Are

they are and are in

R a

R

R and

who are in the

R

R

R

R

Neotropic Cormorant

The

Cedar Warwing

That

, that

man

that the

Yelllow Warbler

Click the

...  Cool right?!  Haha!  I stayed for a while afterwards to talk to the president of their association (who happens to live right down the street from me in Saint Cyr) and another very nice woman who pretty much told me her life story.  Their poetry was not at all what I’m used to.  Poetry where I come from challenges great big ideas with interesting sounding words that cut into your thoughts and graft them with your feelings.  Truly, this experience left me with a deep sense of gratitude for Billy and his poetry and the poetry community in the Bay Area.

I've realized that, no matter what topic you choose to write about or what country you inhabit, writing poetry is an incredibly brave act.  So I wrote a poem.   I’m sure the poem I'm about to share with you has been written before – either by a sad solitary peace corps worker, or a lonely soldier in some dugout somewhere craving the greatest creation to ever come from the United States besides the internet…  I'm warning you - it's so bad that it's even more bad, but here it is anyway:

Peanut Butter Poem

On a sunny afternoon

I will lick you from a spoon

Chunky, smooth, sweet

You’re all I ever want to eat

You make me more me

Pee

Bee

This week I've been working on a few poems inspired by different circumstances I've encountered while living here in Saint Cyr.  I'm also working overtime on my French...  Billy sent me a link to this site, which is a fun way to learn a new language:  www.duolingo.com  Check it out!

That's all for now.  More later!

Joints

So, there's no word for knuckle in French.  It's just called a finger joint.  You can probably imagine the conversation where I found this out, but here it is anyways:

Me:  "Hey cool wow!  What's your skin doing on your fingers?"
Nono:  "It's paint."
Me:  "Haha, not that.  I'm talking about the weird peeling thing on your - wait - what do you call that?"
Nono:  "What?"
Me:  "How do you say that in French?"  [points at knuckle and does a weird wiggly finger dance]
Nono:  "Joint."  [makes movements with elbows]
Me:  "No, not 'joint'.  What do you call the joint on your finger?"
Nono:  "Finger joint."  [articulates at the knuckle]
Me:  [digging in purse for dictionary]  "Really?!  There's not a more specific word in French for knuckle?!"
Nono:  "Nop.  It's just 'joint'."
Me:  [Frantically flipping the pages in dictionary to find knuckle]  ABCDEFGH...M?!?  Grr...  "Ahhhhhh OKAY!  'Joint'!  You're right!" [triumphantly... trying to look cute to native French speakers who seem less satisfied with the outcome of this conversation]  So, then how would you say knuckle ba...?  Shut up, English speaking brain!  There's no baseball in France!!!  

Me:  "So hey cool!  I have the same dry skin thing on my finger joints as you do.  What is that?"
Nono:  "Dry skin."

WAH WAH!

Vocabulary:
Dry:  Sec (m), Seche (f)
Finger = la droigt
Joint = l'articulation
Knuckle = l'articulation
Paint = la peinture
Skin = la peau
Weird = bizarre

French Kissing

I don't know how deeply I've delved into the subject of kissing in France, but this is the stuff that this Culture (yes, culture with a capital C!) is made of...   So, here we go!

This morning I was sitting in a coffee shop/bar/newsstand/convenience store around the corner from my new digs looking like a total tourist in my shorts and tennies with socks, writing postcards, and drinking a cappuccino (which looked like a McDonald's ice cream cone and an espresso got in a brawl and the ice cream won) and - I'm not even joking - every single customer said hello upon entry to pretty much everyone but me.  The men shook hands with each other and everyone kissed the women (2x minimum - first the right cheek then the left cheek - though I witnessed a four kiss situation which, at this point, is my worst nightmare...).  Ha!  No matter what is going on, you drop everything and walk straight up to people with a gender specific greeting and this is a HUGE part of the culture here that I have yet to fully embrace (ahem ahem).

So, if you can imagine my practice last night - there I was being introduced to the core of the Saint-Cyr-sur-Loire Men's Regional team (seriously 7 French guys just totally blankly staring at me) and no one knew how to say hi.  Do we perform the usual ceremony (two kisses - no eye contact - no hesitation, just literally stick your neck out and go right on in for it)?  Do I just take the lead and spit on hundreds of years of their cultural tradition by swapping their kisses for a sweaty yankee handshake?  Running away screaming was taken into consideration...  Eyeyey!  I ended up asking if it was possible to institute a strict high five policy...  People agreed this was fine.  So, our salutation involves a high five plus an exploding fist bump (it's sporty and kinda like knuckles kissing with fireworks at the end).

Greeting aside, it was pretty obvious from the start that at least half of these guys were not excited about having a young, female, American coach...  Oh man, that's so many counts against me here it's a little ridiculous, but once we got started they were all cool and there's no doubt about it - this team is athletic with strong fundamentals.  My role is clearly just to work them out hard and give them game-like drills that challenge specific areas where they need improvement.  I thought practice went pretty well, but we'll see who shows up on Friday!  :)

Today I went to see a cool and competent podiatrist who made me custom insoles!  Now every time I take a step it feels like a baby is punching me in the arch.  Haha!  He said wearing the insoles should clear up my foot pain completely in ten days and to come see him again any time.  We talked for a long time about feet (doy!) and athleticism (one of my favorite topics!)...  His office was super high-tech.  He really helped me.

I feel great - which is good because I have practice tonight!  Yay!  Okay - that's all for now.  More later!

WEEKEND

The treasurer of Saint-Cyr-sur-Loire Volley Ball invited me to stay with him and his family in the countryside North of Tours this past weekend.  Beautiful family, beautiful home, beautiful food, ahhhhh...  It was really nice to unplug and unwind!

On the first night we ate fajitas for dinner with tortillas and guacamole and everything!!!!  OH MY GAWD!  So nice!  So tasty!  Mmmmmmmm...  We ate so well!  Four and five course meals all over the place.  Unfortunately, because I was constantly caring for my sore foot, when I wasn't eating everything in sight, I was kindof a big bummer.  :(

On Sunday, we went on an outing to Château-La-Vallière, but because of my foot I didn't make it too far (ouch!).  Our first stop was a little lake where they foraged some blackberries and played volleyball while I laid back and just enjoyed the sunshine and the breeze.  Next stop, we went to go visit a friend of the club and his family, who - guess what? - is loaning me his bike until May - Yayayay!  We ate rhubarb tart and talked and laughed and I almost understood something he said once... I think...  Ahahah!

The rest of the weekend was spent sword fighting from the couch and playing games with the sweetest little boy in the world, the Treasurer's eight year old son.  We completed an entire "Ou est Charlie?" book, he whooped me repeatedly at Memory (a matching game), he learned how to shuffle cards, and we watched cartoons ("Shiva" is Legos in French!).  

The Treasurer got the ball rolling for my transfer paperwork, insurance, and - drumroll please! - we went to visit an apartment that looks like a keeper.  All in all, it was a super fun and productive weekend.

That's all for now.  More later!

Good Finds and First Official Practice

Today, I set out on foot again, this time really determined to find this farmer's market and post my personal chef flyers around Tours.

Good finds:

1.  Simply - grocery store right on the bus line where I know I can buy Nutella, the coffee capsules I've been using non-stop at the house, and also price out shampoo, conditioner, and toothpaste against the organic brands here.

2.  Farmer's market - one farmer!  That's right.  The farmer's market was comprised of one farmer.  I bought six apricots, four carrots, two lemons, two gigantic summer squash (one green, one yellow), and a bunch of chard (which would spend the rest of the afternoon wilting in my bag unfortunately) - all for just five euros!!!!  We spent a while talking and he told about his family (his wife and daughter) and how he grows his produce.  Really beautiful stuff.  I gave him one of my personal chef flyers.  He said his wife works on the radio and that he can pass that along to her.  Woohoo!

3.  Bike shop - I tried out a bike that was only 93 euros, but it was too small for me and the handle bars were all whack.  Everyone likes to ride upright here...  Bleh!  In one shop I met a guy from Poland (whose household employs a personal chef from Thailand!!)...  He works as a specialist in the whisky and spirits industry.  He's in Tours learning French and researching the wine industry.  Not a bad lead...  I gave him a flyer!

4.  APARTMENT!  There is a really, really perfect apartment for rent in Les Halles (an amazing area on the perimeter of downtown Tours) that I checked out today.  The manager showed me around and it really seems like exactly what I need (except that there's no bedding, cookware, laundry, etc., hmmm...)

I returned home triumphant today.  After a week here, I finally feel like I'm organizing my life and settling into France in my own lazy-American-accent-driven sorta way.  :)

I went shopping to the little organic market and got home at around 4pm ready to cook!  On the menu today?  Quinoa with almonds and raisins, sauteed salt and pepper carrots, and roasted garlic and rosemary summer squash (in hindsight, I'll admit I should've roasted the carrots and sauteed the squash...).  I guess they have a convection oven here, so it cooked the shit outta that squash in twenty minutes flat!  We didn't eat until after practice (11pm-ish) anyway, so I planned on blaming any faults on the microwave...  Hehe!

Tonight, was our first practice with the entire team.  There were ten girls in all.  Maggy sat us down all together.  We introduced ourselves and listened to her philosophy.  Looking around, it felt like a team we can invest in and be proud of!  If we miss a practice, the girls agreed, we have to bring snacks for the entire team (Isn't that awesome?!?!  I love them!).  I have been tasked with coming up with a pre- and post-practice cheer for our team - OH MY GOD THE PRESSURE!!!!  Anyway, we had a hard practice (a lot of running and passing and jumping).  I'm going to be sore as hell tomorrow and I can't even imagine how the other girls must be feeling right now...  Ey!

Here are a couple of fun words I've encountered recently and their meanings:
piquer - to sting/to be spicy hot (like food)
grignoter - to snack
clignoter - to blink
une cloque - a blister
la sueur - sweat
respirer - to breathe
transpirer - to sweat
s'égoutter - to drip
pleuvoir - to rain
la tonnerre - thunder
le coup de foudre - lightning

...and YAY, yoga tomorrow, so I'm quick studying body parts vocab - you had it coming!  ;)
to stretch - s'étendre
head - la tête
back - le dos
neck - le cou
chest - la poitrine
shoulder - l'épaule
shoulder blade - l'omoplate
arm - le bras
armpit - l'aiselle
elbow - le coude
wrist - le poignet
hand - la main
finger - la doigt
stomach - le ventre
belly button - le nombril
hip - les hanches
leg - la jambe
knee - le genou
calf - le mollet
ankle - la cheville
foot - le pied
arch - la voute plantaire
heel - le talon

That's all I can think of for now!  More later!

Open Air Market

Sunday morning!  The sun is shining!

Here's my vocabulary lesson for the day!

Vocabulaire Alimentaire:

water - l'eau
sparkling water - l'eau gaseuse
orange juice - le jus d'orange
coffee - le café
milk (whole, skim) - le lait (entier, écrémé)
wine - le vin
salt - le sel
pepper - le poivre

basil - le basilic

ginger - le gingembre

cinnamon - la cennelle

oregano - l'origan

parsley - le persil

dill - l'aneth

cilantro - la coriandre

mint - la menthe

vanilla - la vanille
garlic - l'ail
honey - le miel
sugar - le sucre
bread - le pain
eggs - les oeufs

granola - le muesli

yogurt - le yaourt
rice cake - la galette de riz
grapes - les raisins
raisins - les raisins secs
apple - la pomme
pear - la poire
peach - la pêche
lemon - le citron
lime - le citron vert
avocado - l'avocat
beet - la betterave
corn - le maïs
lettuce (iceburg, romaine, butter) - la salade (la laitue iceburg, romaine, batavia)
peppers (green, red, yellow...) - les poivrons (verts, rouges, jaunes...)
potato - la pomme de terre
spinach - les épinards
rice - riz
pasta - le pâte
almonds - les amandes
hazlenuts (very popular here) - les noisettes
walnuts - les noix
organic - bio

Words that are the same (or close enough that you can just get away with saying them in English with a strong French accent - haha!):
apricot - l'abricot
banana - la banane
carrot - la carotte
cereal - la céréale
cumin - le cumin
nutella - la nutella
onion - l'oignon
orange - l'orange
quinoa - le quinoa
sauce - la sauce
tofu - le tofu
tomato - la tomate

Things I haven't seen yet, but I want to know how to say as soon as I do see them (haha!):
swiss chard - la bette
brussel sprouts - les choux de Bruxelles
sweet potatoes - le patate douce

Favorites:

peanuts - les cacahuètes
peanut butter - le buerre de cacahuète
pineapples - les ananas
grapefruit - le pamplemousse

In general, I've been very satisfied with the quality of the food here in France!  The organic market down the street has tortilla chips and avocados!  :)

Anyways.....   Today, I'm working on a flyer to advertise myself as a personal chef in some of the more hoity-toity areas around downtown Tours.  Ideally, I'll find some rich artists who can pay me handsomely to make delicious organic vegetarian meals for them a couple times a week.  

Oh oh - the title - today is the open air market in downtown Tours, so I'm off to go scope out some good spots to post my flyers next week.  

That's all for now!  More later!

BBQ

Yesterday I jogged a 5k with my bro here.   After that, he took me shopping to an organic market where I spent around 22 euros of my own money on a few days worth of food (even though the president is putting me up/putting up with me (haha!) I think I can manage to contribute a loaf of bread and some peaches here and there).  When we got home my bro left to kick off his Friday night and I attacked the kitchen in full force!  I made a garlicky quinoa tabouli with raisins, almonds, tomatoes, onions and mushrooms.  Mmmm...

The president and his girlfriend took me to a BBQ at the team captain's house for dinner, so I brought the dish along to share and everyone seemed to like it okay...  Even though they know I'm having difficulty integrating with my level of French as it is right at this moment, everyone was really nice!  The captain of the team has two children and a beautiful house with a garden outside of Tours.  They showed me a real French meal, with an aperitif, starter, main course (vegetarians get crudites), cheese, pie, digestif - voila!  We dined under a wide French sunset and then the group talked and laughed until dawn.  I mostly listened and tried to pick out as many words I could (not easy!)...  This was my first real language challenge and I can't say with confidence at this point that I passed.  One on one I'm okay for now, but when the conversation is moving along quickly in a group I'm not confident enough in my ability to speak concisely within the context of the conversation to just jump in.  I'll be honest - I ended up being the quiet creeper at the end of the table who everyone could poke fun at for dozing off.  In any case, they had fun and we made it home safely, so all is well.  What a night!

Today, I went online to search for apartments and to contact some local cyclists about maybe getting a bike and latching onto some group rides.  I NEED TO RIDE, but it just rained a little and it smells amazing, so maybe I'll run instead.  That's all for now...  More later!