Sad to Leave, Happy to Return

Moustiers-Sainte-Marie

If in our first couple of weeks here we were happy just be-ing, our last two weeks before  journeying home have been filled with activity.   Friends, and those whom we have met through our friends, have regaled us with dinners and apéros .   Around the dining or coffee table, our conversations, helped along with wine and other alcoholic spirits, have lasted late in the evening. By the time we’ve plopped ourselves in bed, it’s after midnight. In the morning, we grudgingly drag ourselves out of bed. Breakfast becomes brunch and my morning walks less frequent. When not being entertained, we’ve managed several small road trips to quaint little villages, walks along stoned winding streets and country paths, and visits to  places of interest.   We’ve enjoyed the local scenery, sitting in cafés, or reading quietly on the beach.

Our flight from Marseille to Amsterdam, then to Detroit, and on to South Bend is a few days away. It hardly seems that seven weeks have passed since our arrival.   We’re totally in sync with the rhythms of life here. Our interactions with the locals are more spontaneous; our French flows more naturally; the habits of daily life have become our own–shopping at the Friday morning open air market, walking each morning to the bakery for bread, enjoying occasionally a croissant or fruit tart.  We visit the office of tourism to find out what’s happening locally . Our neighbors greet us with a smile.

Our quiet immersion into French life was never more evident than during last Sunday’s celebration of the Allies’ victory over Germany, VE Day. We joined the crowd marching in unison with the military band.

At the war memorial in the park, there were proclamations and the laying of wreaths by veterans and other citizen groups. The mayor spoke patriotically about the preservation of democracy; he praised those who fought and died for France’s liberation, thanking the allied troops, the resistance fighters, the Africans; he remembered solemnly the sufferings and sacrifices of so many French citizens, reminding us to be forever vigilant in the preservation of democracy, freedom, and the French way of life.  School children recited poems and led the crowd in the singing of La Marseillaise, the French national anthem. Standing there in solidarity with the French, Melanie and I joined in the singing. It was an emotional moment not easily forgotten.

Each time we come to Provence, we meet new people through our friends. Through Martine, we’ve met Marie-Jeanne, a charming and fiercely independent, ninety-four year old woman, who invited us for an apéro at her beautiful home filled with antiques and art.  From her glass patio, we watched the whitecaps of the rolling waves on the beach and, in the distance, the bolts  of lightening in the darkening sky.  With her that evening were her nephew, Pierrot, and his wife, Agnès, from northeast France. Agnès loves to cook and has a Facebook page, “Bievenue dans ma cuisine,” dedicated to cooking.  Martine also introduced us to Marc and Danièle, who also invited us to their home for an apéro. Their home sits just a few doors from Martine’s. Their backyard, with its well arranged gardens, faces a forested area, through which the sea can be seen.

And at Marie-Hélène’s , who came to IUSB as a visiting Fulbright scholar several years ago, we met another interesting couple, Claude and Claudette. Claudette is a watercolorist who later invited us to see her tableaus, but we could not because of our tight social schedule near the end of our stay.  And just last evening, we celebrated, in our little apartment, Laure’s birthday with her mother, Marie-Hélène, and her friends, Chen and Yannick, doctoral students in chemistry and international law, who met in Ontario, Canada.  Several days earlier, we dined with friends, Hélène, Olivier and Xavier in a restaurant at the port in Toulon.

And to continue with this theme of celebration and dining, during these past couple of weeks, we’ve dined in Marseille, with Marie and Gaetan, at their home with their beautiful three-year old daughter, Louise, and her doctoral thesis advisor and his wife. We also had a wonderful meal of grilled duck in Karine’s and Laurent’s backyard in Brignolles.

We spent an evening with Jacques and Danièle at their home and a lovely day with them in Moustiers-Ste Marie, walking and climbing stoned steps to the 12^th century chapel and driving interminable sinuous roads through the forested tapestry of the Gorge du Verdon.  Tonight we will be with our friends, Catherine and Jean-Louis, at one of our favorite restaurants, Le Bard’ô, in Sanary-sur-Mer.  And this weekend we’ll be regaled with more dinners.

To the reader of my blog, it may appear that we spend an inordinate amount of time eating. Yes, this is true, but not exclusively.   Socializing in France happens around the table, but isn’t that true in many cultures? Spending time outdoors is equally important and Provence has many interesting things to do and sites to visit within a short car ride. One day we drove to Eze, a beautiful village along the coast, but we could not find a parking space; it was our first encounter with busloads of tourists.  Instead, we visited a neighboring town, La Turbie.  Yes, we had a delicious lunch at Le Café de la Fontaine, before visiting the ancient Roman ruins, La Trophée des Alpes.  One afternoon, with Martine, we visited a glacière and learned how ice was made and transported before refrigeration. Later, we hiked up to an isolated spot to visit a monastery, La Chartreuse de Montrieux, where cloistered monks live.  We stopped in a little village, Méouines, where we sat and ate lemon tarts.

Alas, all of this is coming to an end. We’ve already begun making a list of the things we need to do when we return to the States. We’ll go through a period of readjustment, recovering from jet lag, recalibrating our emotional highs and lows, before resettling into the pace of life in Michiana. We’ll pine for  Provence, nostalgically remembering the wonderful days spent here, and with the space of time, those images will slowly fade. We’re sad to leave; next year we’ll await a visit from our friends, Martine, MariThé and Christian; and the year after, we will be happy to return!