Here are the things Jason enjoyed or noted about our first week:
1. McDonald’s on our 4th day here. The girls don’t even really like McDonald’s food, but they love getting a Happy Meal toy and, of course, the playland. Well, the playland at this particular McDonald’s was small, but indoors, which is key when it’s July. After about 2 minutes, Joss runs over to me to say: “Dad, what does ‘pardón’ mean? A French kid was talking French to me and he said ‘pardón’. Does that mean sorry?”
2. The kids got their first taste of the mayonnaise-based French “fry sauce”, and they weren’t “tre” excited about it. To be fair, however, they don’t like the Utah pink fry sauce either (the only thing I can figure for why I love it and they don’t is . . .nope, there’s no good reason.)
3. Upon going through the enormous yogurt, dairy, and cheese section in the supermarket, this Tom & Jerry-influenced comment: “Dad, that’s the kind of cheese that mouses eat.” Referring, of course, to a big block of Swiss cheese. One very cool thing about the supermarket is that they have 2nd and 3rd floor parking. So—how does one get a full supermarket cart up to the third level of a parking garage, you ask? First, the escalators are gently sloped and not stair-like. But then secondly, they magnetize your wheels to the escalator so it locks in place. Very cool technology, which they need to apply somehow to little collars that could be attached to 3-year-olds.
4. Having a pool. I won’t lie—it’s pretty much the coolest thing we’ve ever had in our house besides my drum set and our TV trays. It’s equipped with a pool alarm that goes off when unexpected splashing occurs. Notwithstanding the aforementioned alarm, Maisy—and her disproportionate confidence in her swimming abilities—fell/jumped in at least twice in the first 3 days and we had to pull her out by one arm, sputtering. Save your prayers for this “enfant.”
5. On our very first day with the rental car, I may have inadvertently run over a baby lizard that may have traumatized the girls for maybe the last 3 days. If I really did run over a lizard, I guess I feel bad. Although if it was a gecko instead, I simply find it ironic.
6. The girls’ first full French phrase: “Un glace, si vous plait” (Ice cream, please). They must be mine.
7. We’re still waiting for a partial shipment of household goods that should arrive via air freight shortly. However, in order to get the kids into the pool and beach, we had to buy some new beach towels (I will be polite and not list the prices since I don’t want to have to explain why I took a second job setting up deck chairs at the Pullman Royal Casino private beach to pay for them). The problem with buying a new beach towel is that you should wash and dry it first. Well, we washed it, but normally—how does towel lint pill off and collect? In a dryer. Which we don’t have. Everything here sun dries on a clothes line. This is just a long way of saying that if you look closely at our first week pictures, you may note that we are all covered in a fine layer of New Beach Towel Lint. I’m still finding lint accumulations in places only the Marquis de Sade documented.
8. The beach—there are tons of public beaches around here (if you can find a parking space). There WILL be other postings about our beach experiences, but just know that some things have changed since my European beach experiences as a teenager. First—and perhaps this is a Belgian characteristic—but I’m seeing a lot less female body hair than I seem to remember (or was traumatized by). Second, I’m seeing about the same amount of modesty levels as before on men (my Speedo tolerance strangely unchanged) and on women (somehow, this one doesn’t bother me as much). Although a certain balcony scene from There’s Something About Mary has distinctly and repeatedly come to mind. The kids gladly only recognize the cool sand castles and temperate water thus far.
9. Driving a manual transmission Opel as our rental car. I actually learned how to drive in a stick shift Opel car in Belgium all those years ago. I love the fact that now it’s my turn to take the wheel with my family and get them around safely now.
LA FAMILLE PIERCE is excited to be in France and looking forward to beaucoup adventure. Baguettes. Berets. Haute Couture. Poodles that can smoke cigarettes. Je ne sais quoi. Join us and wish us Bonne Chance.
Saturday, July 31, 2010
Friday, July 30, 2010
Top 10 Culture Shocks My First Week in France
1. You would think #1 is topless women at the beach, right? Actually, that didn’t even make the list, and I think it was because I was prepped for that, and even though I saw it (or rather, several sets of them), it was honestly no big deal to me. What did make #1 on my list is how thin everyone is. Not that everyone has a perfectly trim body—not at all—it’s just that you rarely see overweight people here.
2. Everyone is extremely tan. People don’t have just a healthy glow; they are downright over-baked. Even the ladies in their 60s with leathery skin from so much sun damage are still super-duper tan. Makes me and Jase feel pretty pale, but I am still religious about sunblock on my face, and I wear a hat at all times outside.
3. Obviously prices have been a culture shock. No more Costco or buying in bulk—things come in small units and everything is pretty expensive. Jason just filled up the car, and it cost 91 Euros for 66 Liters of gas, which in American terms cost about $121 for 15 gallons of gas, which is roughly $8.00 a gallon. The cheapest milk is around $5.00/gallon. With all our international purchase fees added in, we have spent about $700 on food for one week, and I swear we don’t have a lot to show for it. We have not eaten out a single time either, except at McDonald’s once. I have got to shop smarter; we cannot keep paying grocery bills like this.
4. Strong Cheese. I know, I know, I should have expected this one, but really, the cheese here, whether grated, sliced, or in blocks, is much stronger than American cheese. I never realized how mild “mild cheddar” really is. The French are known for their delicious cheeses, but I’m just not quite accustomed to the stronger flavors yet.
5. Tats and Smokes. The clichés about French people ALL being smokers is probably not true, but coming from Utah, I am seeing and smelling cigarettes like never before. Also, tattoos are pretty popular. Lots of beautiful ankle art on women.
6. Narrow roads. This is another one I should have been prepared for, but I haven’t driven yet because I am nervous about how narrow the streets are in some places. How people don’t sideswipe each other constantly is beyond me. Tomorrow, I am going to force myself to face this fear and drive for the first time. Wish me luck!
7. Everything here is so small! Small appliances, small cars (which makes sense due to the price of gas and narrow roads), small portions (you’ve heard it before: the large drink here is like a small or medium back home), small dogs, small houses, small people—you get it. My washer can fit maybe a half load of laundry, and the dishwasher here is tiny. Most things are about 20-30% smaller than what I am used to in the US. We really like it here, but we live so comfortably in the US; I just can’t get over it.
8. No Central A/C. The French don’t believe in it, I guess. They open their windows at night, and that’s that. The problem with that is we got devoured by mosquitos when we opened our windows, and we were STILL way too hot. I can already tell we are starting to acclimatize though, but I sure miss the whoosh of nice, cool air when I go inside the house in the summer.
9. The experience of grocery shopping. Did you know you have to buy your own plastic grocery bags at the stores here? We kept ours to reuse them, but kept forgetting to bring them in the store, so we had to keep buying new ones, and even bought some canvas ones to use, then forgot to get them out of the rental car yesterday. To date, I have had to buy new grocery bags every time I have gone to the store, which is about 5 times now! Also, if you don’t have exactly one Euro coin, forget being able to use a shopping cart! You can’t get one unless you insert the coin, then you get it back when you return the cart. A reasonably good system, but it’s annoying when you have no change. So, buy something you don’t really need just to get change, and . . . yep, more stupid tax.
10. The language. This goes without saying, but I was a little surprised that nothing, and I mean NOTHING is in English. In the US, we have so many of our labels and signs in Spanish, so I guess there was a little part of me that thought the French would make it a little easier on foreigners. Believe me, I would kill for even Spanish right now, but no, the French love French. I don’t blame them. It’s a gorgeous language. I just need to understand why my cheese says “rape” on it (FYI, it means “shredded”).
2. Everyone is extremely tan. People don’t have just a healthy glow; they are downright over-baked. Even the ladies in their 60s with leathery skin from so much sun damage are still super-duper tan. Makes me and Jase feel pretty pale, but I am still religious about sunblock on my face, and I wear a hat at all times outside.
3. Obviously prices have been a culture shock. No more Costco or buying in bulk—things come in small units and everything is pretty expensive. Jason just filled up the car, and it cost 91 Euros for 66 Liters of gas, which in American terms cost about $121 for 15 gallons of gas, which is roughly $8.00 a gallon. The cheapest milk is around $5.00/gallon. With all our international purchase fees added in, we have spent about $700 on food for one week, and I swear we don’t have a lot to show for it. We have not eaten out a single time either, except at McDonald’s once. I have got to shop smarter; we cannot keep paying grocery bills like this.
4. Strong Cheese. I know, I know, I should have expected this one, but really, the cheese here, whether grated, sliced, or in blocks, is much stronger than American cheese. I never realized how mild “mild cheddar” really is. The French are known for their delicious cheeses, but I’m just not quite accustomed to the stronger flavors yet.
5. Tats and Smokes. The clichés about French people ALL being smokers is probably not true, but coming from Utah, I am seeing and smelling cigarettes like never before. Also, tattoos are pretty popular. Lots of beautiful ankle art on women.
6. Narrow roads. This is another one I should have been prepared for, but I haven’t driven yet because I am nervous about how narrow the streets are in some places. How people don’t sideswipe each other constantly is beyond me. Tomorrow, I am going to force myself to face this fear and drive for the first time. Wish me luck!
7. Everything here is so small! Small appliances, small cars (which makes sense due to the price of gas and narrow roads), small portions (you’ve heard it before: the large drink here is like a small or medium back home), small dogs, small houses, small people—you get it. My washer can fit maybe a half load of laundry, and the dishwasher here is tiny. Most things are about 20-30% smaller than what I am used to in the US. We really like it here, but we live so comfortably in the US; I just can’t get over it.
8. No Central A/C. The French don’t believe in it, I guess. They open their windows at night, and that’s that. The problem with that is we got devoured by mosquitos when we opened our windows, and we were STILL way too hot. I can already tell we are starting to acclimatize though, but I sure miss the whoosh of nice, cool air when I go inside the house in the summer.
9. The experience of grocery shopping. Did you know you have to buy your own plastic grocery bags at the stores here? We kept ours to reuse them, but kept forgetting to bring them in the store, so we had to keep buying new ones, and even bought some canvas ones to use, then forgot to get them out of the rental car yesterday. To date, I have had to buy new grocery bags every time I have gone to the store, which is about 5 times now! Also, if you don’t have exactly one Euro coin, forget being able to use a shopping cart! You can’t get one unless you insert the coin, then you get it back when you return the cart. A reasonably good system, but it’s annoying when you have no change. So, buy something you don’t really need just to get change, and . . . yep, more stupid tax.
10. The language. This goes without saying, but I was a little surprised that nothing, and I mean NOTHING is in English. In the US, we have so many of our labels and signs in Spanish, so I guess there was a little part of me that thought the French would make it a little easier on foreigners. Believe me, I would kill for even Spanish right now, but no, the French love French. I don’t blame them. It’s a gorgeous language. I just need to understand why my cheese says “rape” on it (FYI, it means “shredded”).
Thursday, July 29, 2010
Le Passage
And for those that care about Jason’s skewed perspective, here are some of the things that he enjoyed about the transatlantic flight to Nice:
1. Maisy squealing with glee upon take-off from SLC airport on our way to New York and JFK.
2. “Sorta” compliments from fellow passengers regarding the mostly good behavior of our kids—i.e, “did you dope them with something?”
Unnecessary editorial: Maybe it was the jet lag, but I personally found this to be a backhanded compliment. It’s like saying: “Hey, whaddya know? Your kids didn’t annoy me NEARLY as much as I had figured they would when I first saw them get on board. Isn’t it funny how life can be full of little surprises like that? Thanks for not ruining my amazing choice of ‘chicken or pasta’ and also for allowing me to enjoy my inflight entertainment of Marmaduke in peace.” Call me an overprotective father, but I guess on some level it irked me that they had immediately judged the capabilities and potential of my girls. I felt the urge to set them straight and respond: “Oh, believe you me, my kids can out-annoy your well-behaved little munchkins any day of the week and twice on Sunday.”
3. Jocelyn—ever the social one—made friends with a French flight attendant named Timothee. He showed her the back part of the plane and even remembered Jocelyn’s name at the end of the flight.
4. Jenica—ever the task-oriented daughter, learned that the mini-TV’s had games. She then successfully cleared about 9 levels of a game called “Chainzz” with a high score over 200,000. Then she figured out that the in-plane trivia game was to play against other passengers. So she went 4 or 5 rounds getting in first or second place, simply by picking the answer she liked best. She’s a gamer, that one.
5. The kids asking on the plane to New York, in New York JFK, and then on the final plane: “Is this France?” Then, once we arrived, they kept saying—“Wow, France is SO beautiful.” And it really is. I can see why it’s totally Oo-La-La land.
1. Maisy squealing with glee upon take-off from SLC airport on our way to New York and JFK.
2. “Sorta” compliments from fellow passengers regarding the mostly good behavior of our kids—i.e, “did you dope them with something?”
Unnecessary editorial: Maybe it was the jet lag, but I personally found this to be a backhanded compliment. It’s like saying: “Hey, whaddya know? Your kids didn’t annoy me NEARLY as much as I had figured they would when I first saw them get on board. Isn’t it funny how life can be full of little surprises like that? Thanks for not ruining my amazing choice of ‘chicken or pasta’ and also for allowing me to enjoy my inflight entertainment of Marmaduke in peace.” Call me an overprotective father, but I guess on some level it irked me that they had immediately judged the capabilities and potential of my girls. I felt the urge to set them straight and respond: “Oh, believe you me, my kids can out-annoy your well-behaved little munchkins any day of the week and twice on Sunday.”
3. Jocelyn—ever the social one—made friends with a French flight attendant named Timothee. He showed her the back part of the plane and even remembered Jocelyn’s name at the end of the flight.
4. Jenica—ever the task-oriented daughter, learned that the mini-TV’s had games. She then successfully cleared about 9 levels of a game called “Chainzz” with a high score over 200,000. Then she figured out that the in-plane trivia game was to play against other passengers. So she went 4 or 5 rounds getting in first or second place, simply by picking the answer she liked best. She’s a gamer, that one.
5. The kids asking on the plane to New York, in New York JFK, and then on the final plane: “Is this France?” Then, once we arrived, they kept saying—“Wow, France is SO beautiful.” And it really is. I can see why it’s totally Oo-La-La land.
Wednesday, July 28, 2010
To The Edge of Doom
This phrase comes from Shakespeare’s Sonnet 116. As Shakespeare describes what true love is, he says it will follow “to the edge of doom.” I engraved this phrase on the inside of the wedding ring that we bought Jason with our student loan money so many years ago. When I married Jason I promised to follow him, even if it meant he would take me to the edge of doom. So the South of France is hardly the edge of doom, right? Of course not, but even if his job had transferred him to Moscow, Tokyo, or Luxembourg, I would have gone with him. And, I wouldn’t complain too much (at least not to him), AND I really would make the best of it. It is not in my nature to fixate on the things I do not have and lament over what cannot be. (I was teased relentlessly on my mission for my sunny outlook despite my meager circumstances; I was called a “trooper” mostly, and it’s true, because I try to make the best of any situation I am in.)
That being said, I have had my mini meltdowns here in France. Mostly because I cannot speak the language AT ALL, and feel pretty cut off from the life I have known for a long time in the United States. Not having access to internet, TV, movies, radio, my friends, family, or even my cell phone really has been quite a culture shock. We also keep paying what I call a “stupid tax” because we make lots of foreigner mistakes that cost us extra money, mostly due to the language barrier. Once small example is that I bought a package that I thought was microwaveable ravioli and sauce for the kids to try (think Chef Boyardee in a bag). After all, it had a picture of ravioli and sauce on the front. After I heated it up, I realized it was only the SAUCE for ravioli, no pasta to be found. So much for my dinner idea. Sure, there are coupons, specials, and lots of ways to save money here on groceries, but you have to be able to know what these advertisements say or mean. Since we don’t, we pay a premium for everything at this point. I think we spent close to 400 Euros the first week here on food (that’s about $500) and only ate out at McDonald’s once! It has become a cardinal sin in our family to waste food. It just costs too much. I am confident we will learn to shop smarter.
My ring is engraved with another phrase from Sonnet 116: “an ever-fixed mark.” It’s a good reminder to both of us that the kind of marriage we want to have is one that is first and foremost, loving. Sounds simple, but that’s our “ever-fixed mark.” What good comes from criticism, complaining about things or each other, or refusal to support one another? Not much. So we will keep laughing about our constant “stupid-tax” payments (should they become a direct withdrawal out of our French bank account?) and the fact that we get lost sometimes, and the fact that we miss central air, cable, and Netflix, but not as much as we miss sisters, brothers, cousins, parents, and friends.
That being said, I have had my mini meltdowns here in France. Mostly because I cannot speak the language AT ALL, and feel pretty cut off from the life I have known for a long time in the United States. Not having access to internet, TV, movies, radio, my friends, family, or even my cell phone really has been quite a culture shock. We also keep paying what I call a “stupid tax” because we make lots of foreigner mistakes that cost us extra money, mostly due to the language barrier. Once small example is that I bought a package that I thought was microwaveable ravioli and sauce for the kids to try (think Chef Boyardee in a bag). After all, it had a picture of ravioli and sauce on the front. After I heated it up, I realized it was only the SAUCE for ravioli, no pasta to be found. So much for my dinner idea. Sure, there are coupons, specials, and lots of ways to save money here on groceries, but you have to be able to know what these advertisements say or mean. Since we don’t, we pay a premium for everything at this point. I think we spent close to 400 Euros the first week here on food (that’s about $500) and only ate out at McDonald’s once! It has become a cardinal sin in our family to waste food. It just costs too much. I am confident we will learn to shop smarter.
My ring is engraved with another phrase from Sonnet 116: “an ever-fixed mark.” It’s a good reminder to both of us that the kind of marriage we want to have is one that is first and foremost, loving. Sounds simple, but that’s our “ever-fixed mark.” What good comes from criticism, complaining about things or each other, or refusal to support one another? Not much. So we will keep laughing about our constant “stupid-tax” payments (should they become a direct withdrawal out of our French bank account?) and the fact that we get lost sometimes, and the fact that we miss central air, cable, and Netflix, but not as much as we miss sisters, brothers, cousins, parents, and friends.
Tuesday, July 13, 2010
Monday, July 12, 2010
Are We There Yet?
Jason has what I call a “knack” for travel. Things just always seem to go fairly smoothly when he travels, at least when I have been with him. It’s not that things never go wrong, and he has had his share of waiting on the runway and missing connecting flights through no fault of his own, but the potential annoyances of travel are minimized when he is present. Getting our family to France was no exception. Really, it was no big deal to take them. It was even a little bit fun. Our biggest mistake was allowing ourselves to take a Pierce family nap on the day we arrived. A nap that lasted for 6 hours!! Consequently, our jet lag lasted for days. The kids were waking up at two in the morning begging for a bowl of cereal, etc. These pictures were taken at our little villa’s pool our first night in France and the next day. This pool is small but very kid friendly.
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