Thanksgiving in France!

Bonjour tout le monde!!
I hope this finds everyone well and I hope that everyone had a wonderful thanksgiving gorging themselves on Turkey and Pumpkin pie. I had a rather interesting "thanksgiving" and I'm sure that it will be one that I will always remember, if only for all the warm fuzzies I got in my heart this year.

I spent actual Thanksgiving day in a classroom, trying to teach my beautiful French middle schoolers about Thanksgiving. Honestly, the only thing that the French know about Thanksgiving is that we eat turkey (la dinde!) and when I explain pumpkin pie I get exclamations of "degueulasse!" (disgusting!) I did have one student ask me why the indians didn't scalp the pilgrims...at which I had such interesting scenarios in my head that I almost forgot to answer the question. Anyhoo, Gwenael invited me back to Rochefort to spend an American Thanksgiving with is family. I don't need an excuse to go visit his family...I love them!

I took the bus early Saturday morning to Rochefort where I met Gwenael at the market. We bought a few last minute things for the meal...stuff for stuffing...various autre choses (other things). We stopped in the town square for a moment so that I could watch the ice skaters on the skating rink that had opened for the holidays only the night before. It was so cold outside...I don't know how they didn't simply die out there on the ice! I then managed to have Gwenael take me to a sporting goods store (We have nothing of the sort in Bourcefranc...it's too small!) where I was finally able to buy some proper basketball shoes! No more blisters on my feet! We met Dominique and the girls at the store. From there we returned home where I played the wii with Emma and Angele. Once again, they kicked my butt. We had a light lunch (well, Dominique called it light, but I was stuffed afterwards!). During lunch, the two oldest girls were having an interesting conversation. It went something like this: Angele asked Emma if she remembered being born. Emma responded "of course not!" and then Angele said "moi non plus" which means "me neither." So of course I was laughing hysterically. Its so comforting to have these three girls crowd around me each time I go to visit...I get to hug them and its rare that I get to hug anyone. Like I said earlier...it fills my heart full of warm fuzzies. After lunch, I helped Dominique chop up stuff for the stuffing. Of course, the girls had to help too...which made me fearful for their little fingers. The way that Dominique made the stuffing was unlike anything I've ever tasted...but it was soo good! It definitely tasted French, but that's not bad at all because French cooking is exquisite. We put the turkey in (first Gwen had to cut off the head and the feet...they don't sell them sans head in France...at which the girls made extraordinary grimaces.) and then we set off for a local museum.

The museum was right up my alley. It was called the Musee des Commerces d'autrefois...roughly translated, the museum of commerce/business from other times. What they had done was set up an old warehouse with different rooms which were set up as they would have been in the beginning of the twentieth century. So, pretty much, I love the end of the 19th century/beginning of the 20th century, so this museum stuffed full of cultural history was eye candy for me. They had a bar, a chemist shop, a launderer...lots and lots of typical businesses from the turn of the century. It also had a gold mine in print advertising. You may recognize the following poster...I saw an original full length poster from 1922! It was spectacular! What I wouldn't do to have this poster in my home... Anyways, as it was a warehouse, it was pretty spectacularly cold...so we returned to a home that smelled of roasting turkey.

I helped Dom make mashed potatoes...they didn't turn out as well as mom's, but honestly, what does? I also attempted to make gravy...pas mal...but not fantastic. But it did the job. Also, Dom made galettes de mais...kind of like little cornbread pancakes. They were pretty good. Another math teacher and his wife joined us for dinner. For an apero, Gwen had bought cranberry juice, which most of them had never tasted. In fact, Ocean Spray is the only form in which you will find cranberries in France. We then sat down to the table for dinner. And I must say, it was pretty fantastic. The conversation of course turned to food...the French love to talk about food. Gwen remarked that it was ironic that the French always talk about food while they eat and he inquired as to what we talk about over dinner in America. I told him that my mom likes to watch Trauma: Life in the E.R. as we eat and Sarah enjoys sharing delightful stories from clinical. Well, that's not all I told him...but I seem to recall an extraordinary amount of inappropriate for the dinner table stories told at our house around the dinner table. The wife of Julien (the other math teacher) brought a pumpkin pie that she had made. It tasted nothing like an American pumpkin pie, but it was GOOD! It had almonds in it and it was very mellow and nutty...I liked it extrememly. Good conversation was had and I was overall very thanksful for the kindness of the Caurant family in taking in a lonely American like me for Thanksgiving dinner. We finally finished dinner at around 10 or so...normal for French people.

I was going to catch a ride back to Bourcefranc with Julien and his wife because they live on the island, but first Gwen proposed a game. So...we ended up playing poker. But first, I snuck upstairs to say goodbye to the girls. Angele was the only one still awake (she has more energy than her two sisters combined) and she was reading by flashlight. When she saw me, she pulled on my arm until my face was at her level and then she gave me a kiss on the cheek. After a wonderful meal and a goodnight kiss from an adorable little girl, the warm fuzzies were just overflowing. So, I rejoined them for poker where I didn't suck too bad...an accomplishment for me. Gwen showed us his gramophone from the 1930s that still works. You had to crank it to get the record spinning but the sound was just fantastically scratchy and old. He had some big band music in there and it sounded like something out of the movies...it was the sound of nostalgia. I loved it! After Julien and his wife had wiped the table with our faces, we were finally through with poker somewhere around midnight. I then returned to Bourcefranc where I promptly crashed, happy, content, and thankful, for my first French Thanksgiving.