The end of the first week (I borrowed some internet!)

I decided that this blog is more than just updating our friends and family back in the good ole U.S. of A. It’s therapy. It sure seems to help me deal with things. So, I decided that 7 or 8 days is too long to wait to blog; therefore, the collection of thoughts that you are about to read is from the last week or so. I’ll put the date on the top so you can make sense of it.
July 24, 2008
As I sit here watching “Le Petit Einsteins” with my son it hits me; They are really serious about this speaking French thing. It’s everywhere. Trying to buy shampoo? Good luck getting what you want, it’s all in French. Trying to figure out how to work your new wonderful Panini press? Better just wing it ‘cause the manual, well it’s all in French. Trying to use the completely different washing machine after living out of a suitcase for a month? Guess what? The buttons and dials….ALL IN FRENCH. That’s not even the worst part. Reading French is a walk in the park next to trying figure out what the lady at the appliance store is asking you. I usually admit my ignorance and say, “Desole. Je ne parle pas bien le Francais”. Problem is that this is usually met with a smile, a shrug and more rapid fire French . Great.
The word “Immersion” means a bit more now than it did a week ago. While it is certainly a great way to learn a language, most people fail to mention that it’s a huge, life altering, pain. Seriously, can’t we have “English day” once a week? Is it too much to ask? It is considered to be the universal international language; perhaps France didn’t get the memo.
Some of our new friends are getting ready to leave for a week in London. You can see the joy in their faces when they talk about it. They eventually mentioned how they plan on seeing the sights and doing some other tourist favorites, but they started the conversation by telling us how they intend to spend a significant amount of time at the movie theaters. Kung Fu Panda, Wall-e, and Speed Racer may not sound like much of plan for a London Holiday, but they seemed ecstatic about it. They’ve been here a year. I hope I’m still as sane as they are in a year; because after a week I can feel crazy creeping up.
In all seriousness, I am excited about learning the language. I think it’s a great opportunity. It’s kind of like receiving free tuition for French classes. The problem is that the class runs 24/7. Remember that crazy foreign language teacher that was always saying, “ah, ah, ah, a Francais” or “En Espanol”? It’s like they are standing behind you all day long. The good news is, it’s working. I suspect that in 2 weeks I’ll actually be able to follow along with the magical musical journey that is “Le petit Einsteins”!
July 25 2008
Wolves, bears, Red Deer, Sanglier (wild hogs), and other impressive beasts were all on my short list of animals I hoped to see here in the foot hills of the Alps. Instead I get lizards and slugs. Seriously, they are everywhere. Like clockwork, every afternoon, the tiny lizards come out to sun themselves on the hot rocks that surround our home. Likewise, the slugs come out every night and are outside my bedroom door every morning. These things must taste awful. There is no other explanation for a fat juicy creature to be able to survive while moving soooo slow. On the birght side I have seen a few new birds that I need to identify. I need to get a book on local bird species (even if it is in French).
Speaking of the outdoors, the kids and I went to a store today dedicated to hiking and mountain climbing. I found a map that included our little burg and the mountain it is tucked in to. It had every back road and trail that anyone could hope to ever walk. At first I was surprised at the accuracy and detail, but then it dawned on me that these roads have been here for hundreds of years. We also bought some other basic gear like a back pack, some water bottles, and a new hiking hat for me. Not wanting it to gather dust, the four of us hit the trail this evening. We just took off out our front door and kept track of our trail on the new map. On our short 3.4 mile loop we saw the following: 1) The most unbelievable distant views of two different valleys filled with picturesque French villages. 2) Up close views of two French mountain villages 3) A distant view of a different trail behind our house heading straight up the mountain. 3) Numerous Frenchmen on bicycles. They are everywhere. 4) 4 “paraponters”. Grenoble is famous for this. For no sane reason, people run off the side of a mountain with an already deployed parachute trailing them. They then sail above the valley for hours using the hot valley air to keep afloat. I understand most of it except where they land and how. It looks peaceful and even fun, but I just don’t know where they land and how they get there. This bothers me and I need to find out. 5) A shirtless 70 year old French farmer building a fence. I only mention him because he was worth mentioning. It was obvious that this guy had spent a lifetime working the land, and by “working the land” I do not mean riding in a tractor pulling a plow or scouting crops from the front seat of a Ford F-150 with coffee cup in hand. This “old” man was ripped. Six pack abs, two tickets to the gun show, the works. Dana and I were both immediately impressed and a little ashamed of how lazy we are.
Tomorrow we are planning on another hike. We’ll drive for a while to start this one. I want to go find a couple of lakes that I found on the map. Should be fun. I’ll be sure to post the details.
On to another subject. After the hike last night, I cooked for the first time since moving to France. Nothing great. Whipped up some sauce from red wine (easy to come by here) fresh tomatoes, onions and garlic and served it with some sausages on pasta. I’ve done it hundreds of times back home, but it has rarely tasted so good. Not sure if it was better ingredients, the first home cooked meal in a while, or a perhaps a combination, but it sure hit the spot.

July 26, 2008
Yesterday’s “hike” of which I spoke so fondly, has been reclassified. Journeys of its nature will be called walks from here on out. Today’s journey would be classified as a hike. The difference between the two classifications being not the distance, but rather the vertical nature and the terrain involved. We started the day by driving to Chamrousse, home of the ski resort during colder weather. A book that I had bought described a hike including two lakes that was supposedly perfect for kids. That was what I could deduce from the maps and pictures anyway. The rest of the provided information was a mystery as the book is in French (see my post from 2 days ago), but how important could it be? I assumed that with a map, the aforementioned book, a well marked trail and 2 different types of GPS units I could figure out the rest. The good news is that the we did head in the right direction, toward Lacs Robert. The problem was that the mystery information, was apparently telling me to take the cable car up to the top of the mountain before starting the hike. Instead we saw a sign in the parking lot saying “Lacs Robert 3.2km” and followed it. What is it like going 3.2 km up a mountain with 2 young kids? Well I can’t really tell you, I can only tell you what it feels like to go 2.2 km up the side of a mountain. After 2 hours of climbing that’s where we stopped. We had a blast but next time we’ll take the cable car.
OK. Really funny story! Andy will appreciate this one having witnessed basketball in Europe. Then this evening we went to a cookout with other Cat ISE’s (International Service Employees). (Actually we’re still here, and since I still don’t have internet I’m opting to check internet vs. be sociable.) A couple of different people asked if I was going to the new basketball coach to which I replied “I guess so”. I only said this because of a short translated conversation that I had with the head mistress at Ecole Notre Dame where I briefly mentioned that I had played basketball and that I was also a high school coach. I came away from the conversation thinking it would be great to get to volunteer some time helping with the basketball. Apparently the head mistress went away with a different impression. Apparently a successful fund raiser for new basketball equipment was held and news began to travel. Long story short, the “ex-pro basketball player” has arrived in the little mountain village of St. Martin D’Uriage. Sounds like the beginning of a sports movie.