Church in France

We made it to church our second Sunday here when we could finally look up the location and directions to the meetinghouse via the internet. I hadn’t packed a single church dress for myself (stupid), so I had to buy a simple skirt and knit top at the Carrefour (which is like Walmart) the night before for 30 Euros.

Jocelyn, Tiffany, and Jenica ready for church: August 1, 2010

LDS map locator said the meeting (it’s the Cannes ward) began at 10:50, and after a few wrong turns, we arrived at 11:10. It was embarrassing to walk into the chapel 20 minutes late after the sacrament had already been passed. More embarrassing to later learn that we weren’t just 20 minutes late; we were over 2 hours late. This ward has its auxiliary meetings before Sacrament meeting, so church actually had begun at 9:00. By this time there wasn’t a single parking space available, so we parked illegally in a handicap spot. Then as we walked in, there wasn’t anywhere to seat all 5 of us together, so a missionary by the door quickly rearranged some people in the back of the chapel to make room for us. All eyes were on us, including the bishop’s who was at the pulpit announcing that it was testimony meeting. Mortifying.

Luckily my girls were well behaved in this extremely quiet ward. Lots of people are supposedly on holiday, but it still had good attendance of at least 85 adults and young adults and maybe 25 kids (a vast difference from my ward of 700 with 300 kids back home). There were no pews, just chairs, and inside the chapel was the first time I have seen carpet since arriving in France. Even though I didn’t understand a word of what was being said, I enjoyed the meeting. Apparently the youth had just returned from EFY (they kept saying “EFY,” so that’s how I know) and about 8 or 9 were all bearing their testimonies one after another. I was very impressed with them; some even made me cry a little. They seemed sweet and sincere, and I could tell they had really been affected by the experience. (Afterward, a lady behind me said about 450 total young adults had attended it somewhere in France.) I couldn’t help but notice how simple everything was. People were not super dolled up; women had minimal makeup and little if any jewelry; little girls just had their hair brushed out straight (nothing fancy like bows and ribbons). Everyone appeared to be unassuming and down to Earth. I liked them all immediately. The closing hymn was “Come Follow Me,” and I did my best to sing along in French the best I could. 

 After the meeting, a lady behind me named Corinne introduced herself. She spoke beautiful English with a British accent and said she was 1st counselor in Primary. She introduced us to the Relief Society President (who speaks no English), a member of the Bishopric who speaks English, Italian, and French, and his wife. The wife’s English was good too, and she had even served a mission in England somewhere. They were telling us the nearest temple is in Bern, Switzerland, and it’s about a 9-hour drive by car. They said even if a temple is built in Paris, they will still go to Switzerland. We then met the Bishop who was very nice (also speaks some English). He got our membership ID numbers off our temple recommends and said he can easily get our records from Utah. 
 
The girls were disappointed that we had missed Primary, but overall, I think it went well considering how flaky we felt. The people of our new ward seemed accepting of us, and they were warm and welcoming. It also seems like a pretty high-functioning ward from what I can tell, but then again, I only observed it for 50 minutes.

Maisy and Jason - in the driveway of
our home in Mandelieu, France