Mental Exercises: French-Style

Yesterday (Sunday), after a pseudo-confusing scheduled time for lunch, I made my way downstairs to have lunch with Trevor, our host family, and two of their friends. There were three extra kids in the house, but it still somewhat felt like there weren’t any kids around. In any event, I got to the apartment around 12h30, and didn’t leave until about 17h10. The entire time, they were speaking to each other in what seemed like sped-up Parisian French, a speed that I rather enjoy, but it was quite difficult to keep track of the quick subject changes and oftentimes dual conversations (if not somehow more) going on at one time. Towards the end, Trevor and I somehow got slipped into the conversation but fell back out again. One of my favourite exercises, however, was trying to explain South Africa’s « Coloured » identity in French. I hope they understood me. Aside from the speaking exercises, the food somehow became a mental exercise for me, as well. By far, this was perhaps the French-iest of food experiences I’ve had while in Paris.

We started with ponche as an apéritif (which, by the way, felt like it was attacking the sick germs in my throat). We then moved on to foie gras (i.e., duck liver), with toasted bread and salad. As the main course, we had what I can closely describe as fettucine bolognaise. We carried on with a cheese plate which included comté (my favourite of the four), rocquefort, camembert, and a cheese that I can’t still seem to remember the name of (though it does have a signature line of blue within any given triangular slice). For dessert, we ended with a blackberry tart. Whew, I’m kind of hungry again.

After a small break from our nearly entire afternoon lunch, Trevor and I left to go to 18h30 Mass at Notre Dame. The cathedral is beautiful, big, and rather overwhelming. The service was rather traditional (including some responses sung in Latin), included a children’s choir, and was televised live on a Catholic television station. If something wasn’t said in Latin, it definitely was said in French. Outside of a few responses here and there, as well as the Our Father, I still found myself a bit lost (though the bulletin did have an English translation of the readings); I’ll definitely have to go back there.

All week, Trevor had been planning to go back to Sunset Sunside but before going there, we had dinner at a small café (even though we were both still rather full from lunch). After dinner, I concluded that I still wasn’t feeling all too well and made my way back home, ending my night with homework and a call from home.

Ooh, gotta get going to my interview!