Today we had to wake up at 5:30 to go to the Gare de Lyon and head back down to Aix-en-Provence. I love the train station because it looks like a huge greenhouse with the windows on the top and the metalwork decorations look so old-fashioned. I had told Chuck about the TGV a long time ago and he always found the translation funny: "Train of Great Speed"...such a turn-of-the-century name for such a modern transportation.
On the train, I loved watching the scenery change from the north to the south. The green cloudy fields in the north looked like what I imagine Ireland to look like, and the south is full of sunshine and red dirt.
Once in Aix, I was so excited to show him everything. It was like having part of my life at home get to know my life here in France, and it was a good feeling to have them merge.
But before anything, we had a lunch planned with my host mom, so we walked down the road for that.
The meal began with an aperitif while we waited for her sister to arrive. Today was the day of the second round of municipal elections, and Colette's excitement was almost rabid. She told us she would be at her television from 6pm until 2am watching programs about the elections. "Think of me tonight!" she said "They will be choosing the candidate!"
Luckily I had told him all the correct things to say to win her affections, which are "Barack-O" because she likes him as a candidate in the U.S. elections and "Sarcozy, fou!" meaning Sarcozy is crazy while making a gesture around his ear.
I was serving as translator for them both, but I realized that when I translate for one of the other, it makes the person being spoken to feel obligated to respond, so sometimes I wouldn't translate everything and I would just converse with one or the other if it seemed like they were talking to me only. Although the translating itself was easy, the etiquette of it was hard. When do I make someone wait while I translate what they've said? She was only talking to me, should I translate to Chuck so he doesn't feel left out?
But I also loved the way he looked at me when I was rattling off my French with Colette. I don't speak French at home, and I don't know if he's ever seen me do it, even though we've been living together for a while. To watch him look at me so admiringly for something new after we've been together so long felt so good.
When Colette's sister arrived, we sat at the table. The first course of dinner, the appetizer, was made of grilled peppers and ham and vegetables of all sorts. There was much more, I can't even remember. I thought Chuck must have been pretty hungry the way he ate a couple of servings of each thing, and it made Colette so happy to see him eating so much. But then I realized that he didn't know it was just the appetizer, so he had been eating like it was the meal. When she cleared the table he said "That was really delicious!" for me to translate, and then she came back out with the main course, eggplant parmesean and grilled beef. He looked at me in horror. "There's more?" he asked. "Yes," I told him. "That was only the appetizer. After this there will be salad, too, and then cheese and then dessert". His mistake was completely understandable seeing how large it was and knowing it to be lunch, not dinner. I thought I had explained to him how the French meals go, but maybe he thought I had been exaggerating. He tried to apologize and explain he wouldn't be able to eat much more, but when I translated Colette responded that that was nonsense and filled his plate. He finished everything, including the beef. He hadn't eaten beef in two years, and he ate it without any question, but with a very full stomach! He tried the cheeses that she brought out next and he ate the fresh strawberries she had for dessert. But after three hours of lunch, the longest lunch of both of our lives, he needed to lie down. Colette offered for him to sit on the couch while the rest of the three of us chatted for a while. When Chuck and I started to help clear the table, she forcefully stopped us, as always, and told us to go and have a nice week together.
I didn't eat anything the rest of the night, and I hadn't even made that painful mistake that Chuck did!
We walked around Aix-en-Provence that evening and I showed him my school and the important streets and fountains. We walked past the town hall which was teaming with people! There was a huge crowd around it at around 10 and 11pm. I would have normally thought there was a concert or something with a crowd as big as that, but we could hear the mayor giving a speech and we realized it was all the citizens waiting to find the results for the municipal elections. I'd never seen anything like that before. I pictured Jay, the mayor of Harvard, with hundreds of people crowded around the town hall waiting to see if he'd won the elections, and it made me laugh.
I was surprised when Chuck got a little hungry again around 11pm, a mere 8 hours after that lunch. But we found a Greek fast-food restaurant to get him a little something. Before I got to the counter, he asked if he could get his sandwhich without lettuce. I told him that they don't really do that here and gave him a look that said I don't want to ask that. It doesn't matter, he told me, because he could just take it out anyway. But when I got to the counter, the guy asked me if I wanted anything special on it, so I said "je voudrais tous que la laittue (I would like everything but lettuce)" but I think he heard me say 'I want all lettuce' because that's exactly what he did. I tried to rexplain, he tried to remake the sandwhich and it became a big hassle. As I handed the sandwhich to Chuck, I glared at him. But, in fact, he had told me not bother asking about it and then I did, so it didn't make sense for me to blame him. We sat outside and I ate his lettuce while he ate his sandwhich, because that's what we usually do with sandwhiches.
