Tag: French Sabbatical

You may need to click on the photo to see it better. Doing so enlarges it, a picture taken yesterday of our rental car’s GPS screen. And before going any further, let me just tell you how infatuated Melinda and I became with this nifty little tool. It’s like driving and playing a video game at the same time, which, incidentally, I’m not advocating anyone do on a literal basis…

Anyway, Angerville. So there we were, driving in Normandy to Bernard’s parents’ house on Saturday, and up on the video game, err, GPS screen came the word “Angerville.” It made me laugh out loud. As Chloe said, we spent some time in Nice, why not Angerville? Turns out, though, that it never really worked into our plans to make a stop. I kept picturing the four of us next to a sign of the town name, each of us with an angry scowl on our faces. The blog posting title would have been something like, “If this isn’t Angerville, I don’t know what is.”

But in hindsight, it’s probably best we didn’t go to Angerville. I mean, we probably go there metaphorically often enough, right? So not visiting this town can have a metaphorical purpose, too. “Hey, Melinda, you aren’t planning on making a stop in Angerville, are you?”

Think about it. Wouldn’t YOU rather go around Angerville than making a stop there? Program your personal GPS accordingly.

Last night I was struck by the realization that the experience we were having right then was exactly what Melinda and I wanted for our family when we first imagined the sabbatical. There we were, in the cozy living room of a delightful French family, sipping wine in front of a fire, having spent the better part of the day with them acting as our tour guides. It was just prior to dinner. Chloe and Ella were playing cards with a couple of sweet French girls. In our imaginings Melinda and I couldn’t picture this exact scene, of course, or others like it that we’ve had. Living it, though, is like having a dream come true.

We’re back in Nantes now. I’ve updated the last two days with my reactions to our visits to two of the D-Day beaches. What I haven’t done is express our appreciation for the Bertail family, the people who have made this particular dream come true. Their kindness to us and their generous hospitality is something to behold. To try to hint at the depth of our appreciation, I present this photo of Monsieur and Madame Bertail, Bernard’s parents, outside of their home in Normandy, the place where we spent the last three days/two nights, as a lasting tribute. When we are back in Seattle and enjoying this record of our experiences, we will look at this picture with great warmth and appreciation.

Of the many things for which we have to thank the Bertails, one involves making sure Chloe got her Caen-Paris train ticket yesterday and then to the Caen train station on time today. I’m pleased to report that Chloe is safely and contentedly in Paris right now with her friend Alex. She returns to Nantes on Thursday.

Thank you, Christine. Thank you, Bernard, Thank you to all the Bertails, our friends.

One comes and it finds you in whatever way it does. You find it, too, like partners in some strange kind of a dance, or round one fighters in the ring. Because that’s how it feels here, like you and it are tapping into something deep and natural, something scary but secure, something simultaneously good and bad. It’s the best of you. It’s the worst of you.

It’s that part in each of us that wages epic battles with ourselves and with those we love most. It’s both my inner and outer responses to Melinda when I’m angry. Am I calm and loving? Am I spiteful and mean? When Chloe or Ella leave their dirty dishes in the sink, do I respond with raised voice and ire or with understanding and patience?

I lose more of these battles than I care to admit.

But perhaps each marker here represents an opportunity to start over again. When I lose one of these battles, I can think of this place, tap one of these markers and forgive myself. Failing that, I can start again. Failing that, start again. There, a success! Build on it. Oh, but another failure. Start again. There are so, so many markers placed so carefully in ordered rows over so much ground. So many opportunities to start again. Always more, always enough. Each one represents opportunity, hope. A success. Now another.

Just what IS it that dies for one’s sins?

With my back to the water at Utah Beach, my feet in the incredibly soft sand, with families lounging on towels and tourists quietly walking, I look up at the bank. It’s hard to imagine that 67 years earlier one of the fiercest battles in military history partially took place right here. I can’t wrap my head around that.

There are tributes, of course, but they pale in significance to what took place then. Perhaps that is as it should be. There is no way to fully memorialize a place like this. As Lincoln said at Gettysburg, the consecration of such a place happens DURING the event, not in the words and memorials that follow.

I wander among the tributes, taking photos, feeling so fortunate to be doing my shooting here with a camera and not a gun. How many people, like me, perhaps BECAUSE of what happened at places like this, get to be tourists with no worries of being attacked or needing to defend? Do the ghosts mock us? Are they offended? Or are they proud? What roll of the dice places me here in 2011 and others here in 1944?

I’ve chosen this photo to further summarize our introduction to the D-Day beaches, taken inside the new Utah Beach Museum. Here is what the card says:

“The first American flag raised on Utah Beach, on the first enemy bunker captured at dawn on D-Day. It continued to fly up to the 11th of November 1944, the day the 1st Engineers Special Brigade memorial was inaugurated. Donated by General Eugene M. Caffey, 6th June 1954.”

Inside this photo try to find:

A rear view mirror
A driver
Two passengers
Two visors
A windshield
The hint of a steering wheel

How did you do?? Did you notice anything about these items? That’s right, they’re all parts of a car, specifically the one we rented today! You see, tomorrow we are following Christine & Bernard (and kids) to Normandy to see, among other things, the D-Day beaches. Bernard’s parents live nearby and we’ll all be staying with them until Monday. I’m really looking forward to it!

One thing of which to be aware, there is no Internet at the house so there may be a delay in posting to the blog. We’ll see how that all shakes down once we’re there. Worst case – I get caught up with my postings on Tuesday. But I promise to write them every day all the same. Deal?

Oh, that second passenger? There’s me in the passenger seat, of course (where would Melinda be but behind the wheel?). And Chloe, the photographer, can be seen in the rear view mirror.

Meet one of my French professors in Nantes, the auto-cashier at the nearby U Express grocery store. I had a funny realization while checking out there just a few minutes ago. How much better would my French be if every time I buy groceries I interact with a real live human being (a real live French person, no less) instead of scanning my items myself and interacting with a machine?

Digging deeper into this philosophical question, I wonder if using my computer as much as I have (to blog, of all things, and in English, no less!) has also hampered my French language acquisition. Another question, how different would my experience be if we were living here 20 years ago?

Clearly, there are positives and negatives to this. 20 years ago I could not have gone online to look up the local bus schedule, or used a translator to help me understand things better. But each of those interactions with a machine is one less potential interaction with a human being.

Still, I will report that I can say, “Passer les articles devant le lecteur.” At least that’s what I think the machine is telling me when I’m scanning things too slowly.

And, oh, the woman (French, I presume) who cut my hair today told me my French was very good. That came after I told her, “Je ne parle pas très bien le français.” Ironic, huh?

I mean, something about this photo just says rural France to me. It’s the color, the blue of the sky mixing nicely with the greens and browns of the grasses. The presence of horses adds to it, as does the bike. Then there is the beautiful girl, always an important component of a classic French photo.

Yes, Melinda & Ella returned last night with a camera full of photos. Indeed, as Melinda had been reporting to me by text and phone, the Île de Ré looks beautiful. As the picture provides testimony and as I mentioned earlier, they rented a couple of bikes and rode all over the island. It’s reputed to be extremely flat, making bike-riding a breeze. I caught Melinda hard at work earlier today, busy counting on her fingers and toes. I think she was doing what Jethro Bodine called cipherin’.

When she was done she announced that she thinks they biked over 61 miles in the two days they were on the island. That’s something!

I had hoped to provide some interesting posts of what Melinda and Ella were doing on their little two day vacation (they get back tonight). But Melinda hasn’t been able to send me any photos and, well, no photo, no blog posting.

I WILL say that they’ve spent their two days on the Île de Ré riding bikes. Ella reported that she’s a little sore in an area that gets sore when riding a bike for something like 7 hours in one day. They haven’t spotted Johnny Depp despite having heard he is a frequent visitor. Melinda has mentioned several times that we should move there, and I don’t think it’s because of Johnny Depp. Anyway, it will be fun to see their photos and get caught up properly when they get home.

Meanwhile, I’ve spent the last two days more or less working on the computer. As a Washington state certified teacher I am required to earn “clock hours,” 150 every five years, to keep my certificate up-to-date. I signed up for a 60 clock hour class on “web technology.” So I’ve been studying things like wikis, RSS, Google apps, and the like. Here, you can look at the kindness wiki I made as part of today’s assignment (feel free to add to it, please!). And today’s photo is of me with my iGoogle page, complete with RSS, Facebook and Twitter feeds.

Aren’t I savvy? Or maybe just a little silly to be using valuable sabbatical days on things like this…

I mentioned at the end of Friday’s post that we were heading over to the Boudeau’s for our first foray in their brand new pool. That’s right, the Boudeaus have put a pool in their backyard!

It’s pretty spectacular, their pool. It’s got a deep end so Romain spent a lot of time showing off his diving prowess. And it was pretty funny watching Chloe try not to get her hair or face wet when she first got in. She made the mistake of showering and getting all cleaned up (after sunbathing most of the afternoon at our house) just before we left our house.

Frédérique described what we would be eating as a “light dinner.” Wow, I don’t know. For one, she’s an amazing cook so everything was delicious. And two, it just seems a 4 course meal can’t be considered “light.” What a meal…

I delayed posting about the pool party, hoping to get one of the Boudeaus photos. Laurent sent this one and several others to me late last night. We had gone back in the pool after the “light” dinner. You know, the one that took a couple of hours to complete. And since it’s still light here at 10pm, you can guess it was pretty late when this picture was taken.

No, I’m not referring to how Melinda, the girls & I slipped into the country. I am, of course, referring to the significant tennis tournament that is taking place as I write. It’s in the middle of the second set, Rafael Nadal having taken the first 7-5. Roger Federer won the first 3 games but couldn’t hold off Nadal.

You may be asking what today’s photo has to do with Nadal, Federer and the French Open. Well, let me tell you.

Théo, there on the right, is a tennis fan. He told me that he can serve like Roger Federer. I’m not sure if he was referring to hitting a tennis ball or bringing dinner to the table but it really doesn’t matter. Bérnard, there on the left, is also a fan of hitting a fuzzy little ball over a net. Christine, there in the middle, is a supportive mom and wife.

Oh, in terms of explanation, there’s more. The Bertail family doesn’t have cable TV. We do. The French Open is on. They asked if they could come watch (note their glazed TV-watching eyes).

On a different subject, one I promise had nothing to do with the fact that half the Bertail family was coming to watch tennis on our TV, Melinda & Ella left today for a couple of days on the Île de Ré, a spontaneous vacation that emerged when Ella learned she need not attend school tomorrow or Tuesday. I’m hoping Melinda can send me a photo for the blog tomorrow but we aren’t sure she’ll have Internet access.