Things we are enjoying getting accustomed to (and others...uhmm, not so much). PART 2

So, PART 2--the things I have not really enjoyed getting accustomed to. It was with a grateful heart that I posted my last post; and, believe me, I am beyond grateful for the blessing of being here. And this post, by no means, contradicts any of that. It's just that sometimes I need to vent my frustration--mostly at not being able to speak or understand French. I take full responsibility for that, of course. And I understand more French every day--I wish I could say that about my speaking ability.

So, here we go.

One of the hardest things for me is shopping and cooking. I mean, look at this:

Even with limited French, anyone can see that the package on the left translates to "Cream Fresh" or fresh cream. The package on the right is clearly "Powdered Sugar." Right? WRONG! The Creme Fraiche is actually sour cream and the powdered sugar is good old regular granulated sugar. Who would know? Just when something looks like it makes sense, it doesn't.

So, I've obviously bought the opposite products than I was hoping for more than I care to admit. I've also cleaned the toilet with oven cleaner (it did quite a nice job, actually) and made other similar faux pas.  Take rice for instance. I've cooked rice all my life with great success. Here there was a package of rice in the cupboard and it said that the rice cooks in 10 minutes. I've never used converted rice before, but figured that's what I had here. So I looked on the back of the package to look for readable (for me) clues that would tell me how much water to use for the rice. While 1 liter of water seemed like a lot for a little package of rice, I confirmed with Doug that it did, indeed, say to use 1 liter of water. So I did. An hour later, the water was absorbed and I had the biggest pan of thick white paste that would have made a great advertisement for Elmer's Glue. What a mess. I dug the package out of the garbage can and showed it to Doug to prove that I had "read" it correctly. The joke was again on me--I really was supposed to use 1 liter of water but that was just to bring to a boil before dropping the whole little brown bag (bag and all) into the boiling water, cooking for ten minutes, removing the bag, cutting it open and pouring out perfectly cooked rice. Again, who knew?



Sometimes I think I just need to go to an xylem--at least there we can solve water. What the heck? I apparently don't even understand English any more.

A few other things that I really am miraculously getting accustomed to (and actually enjoying the process) are these:

• The hot and cold water faucets are on opposite sides than I'm used to--usually. If there is a pattern on when the hot is on the left and the cold on the right, I can't figure it out. To add to the guessing game, one turns on by twisting away from you and the other by twisting toward you. It's always a guess--no consistency for the hot turning one way and the cold the other. Seems so inconvenient, wasteful, and time consuming to me. I'll let you know if I find a pattern--I'm sure you'll sleep better knowing, and I know I will.
• Restaurants don't open for dinner until 7:00 p.m. Being "senior citizens," we would really like to have our supper in the early evening, please. Also, the French like to dine for a couple of hours so the waiters, waitresses, and cooks, really take their time. Sometimes we've waited 30 minutes to receive our check after asking for it.
• A great thing about restaurants is that there is no tipping. Nice. A frustrating thing about restaurants is that you don't get ice in your water or butter for your baguette.
• One of the first words I learned in French from Rosetta Stone (pre-mission) was "cheval." It means horse. I'm so grateful I learned that word, even though at the time I thought it silly to learn the word for horse. BUT, as I was looking for meat at the grocery store, I was glad to realize that the section of meat I was in was "cheval." That was a close call--getting granulated sugar when I wanted powdered is far better than getting horse meat when I wanted beef.
• Speaking of grocery shopping, we love going to the outdoor markets for fruits and vegetables. But what really is frustrating to me is that you aren't allowed to touch it! The vendors pick out your items for you. They do a good job, I have to admit, but I'd just like to give that mango or peach a little soft touch test myself, if you know what I mean.
• French manicures: they don't exist in France. In fact, I have yet to see a French woman here with her fingernails even painted. Just doesn't happen. By the way, I've never seen a French braid either.
• It's illegal to do your laundry before 8 a.m. or after 10 p.m. as you "might disturb the neighbors." The washing machine takes 3 hours for one small load and the dryer almost an hour--so with working from 8 or so until 7, 8 or 9 or so, and also obeying the mission rule to never leave your apartment with the washer or dryer running, what are we to do? 
• Going even 1 km per hour over the speed limit can be very expensive--we luckily haven't personally been picked up on the invisible radar, but many, many of our missionaries have. Seriously, there's no 7-10 mph grace given to anyone here. 

So really, just a few minor inconveniences that sometimes on especially stressful days seem bigger than they are. Deep breath, let it out slowly. After all, when in France...

    

                   

And now that I've vented and with my frustrations waning, that's exactly what I am doing my best to do.

 

Things we are enjoying getting accustomed to (and others...uhmmm, not so much). PART I

Like amazing gelato--we're definitely enjoying getting accustomed to that! They put all the flavors you would like in one cone. We chose raspberry, lime-basil, mango, stracciatella (chocolate chip), chocolate amorino, vanilla bourbon, noisette (hazelnut), and strawberry.

And, unbelievably, they scoop it so each scoop forms a petal of a beautiful rose in the cone vase:

Pictures just don't do it justice

As I've mentioned before (probably on several occasions), we are REALLY enjoying the pastries (as you can see from our growing girth in many of the posts). Here is yet another bakery excursion:

Just simply unbelievable in taste AND presentation. The French are truly pastry and bread artists.

I'm afraid I'm getting too used to the beautiful architecture--it's everywhere we go and everywhere we look. It's phenomenal and I want to always be awestruck by it.






The cathedrals, of course, are breathtaking--both outside and in.

Even unknowingly walking down little streets in little villages holds wondrous surprises:

 

It seems I often find the best visual treasures by looking up. I have to not worry so much about misstepping on the cobblestone streets and lift my head toward heaven (a lesson I've been taught all my life and am still working on).

Notice the big watering can hanging from the tree :)

We are gratefully surrounded by beauty...

...and beautiful friends in beautiful places!

A fairly "normal" day for these two senior missionaries

Our days here are far from what we imagined "normal" would be--but once in a while we do have a day that seems more normal than is usually the case. So here is a snapshot of a fairly normal day:

We usually arrive at work around 8:15-8:30 (sometimes as early as 7:30 a.m. and occasionally as late as 9:00 a.m.). Doug and I share an office at the bureau:

Doug is working really hard as the mission comptable (accountant) and doing great at learning Excel to accomplish his duties. He's becoming a wiz on the computer (if he could just find that darn carriage throw he keeps asking me about)

Karen is the mission secretaire and, in addition to the more common secretarial duties, is responsible for the legality for our 200 missionaries plus their arrivals and departures

Our days in the office are very busy and very long, usually 10 hours on a good day and up to 15 hours at times. We love working with the other couples--we don't know what we would do without them. We have a devotional each morning where we take turns choosing a hymn, sung in French of course (I never could have imagined that I'd be part of a French-singing quartet!), giving a spiritual thought and a prayer to begin the day. The brightest spots of our days are interacting with the young missionaries (mostly the assistants and the Versailles elders, although other missionaries often drop by) and President and Soeur Babin. 

A few elders who stopped by for help with their second year legality.

The eight of us by height. (Yes, he's 7'5")

With the assistants (Elder Pieksma and Elder Stephenson). We love these two!

Transfer week (every six weeks) is always exciting--new missionaries come in on Tuesday (29 missionaries arrived this week!), transfers are on Wednesday, and departures are on Thursday each transfer week. It's crazy busy but there is so much joy in that process! New missionaries in our mission are called "Bleus" (instead of "Greenies") and we are always uplifted by the Bleu Fire when they arrive. Transfers are exciting as the Bleus get to meet their trainers and head off to their new areas. Departures are bittersweet, for sure. We get attached to these young missionaries quickly and it's hard to see them go. But witnessing their growth and the joy in their countenances as they finish their mission is worth everything.

If we are able to leave work by 7:00 or 8:00, we often go to the store, which is always an experience.
 

I think I'll pass on this one.

Pudding, on the other hand--YUM! How can we choose?

And choices on both sides of the long aisle!

The ham here is delicious...

We often have ham sandwiches for lunch--such delicious ham and cheese here and add that to a fresh baguette (and sometimes a sliced, hard-boiled egg) and it is our favorite lunch. But, for a change, how about some flunch?

Some days when we are just too tired to make dinner, we walk up to our local cowboy restaurant:

Mmmm. Good old home cooking, sort of.

The waiters even wear cowboy hats.

When we work really late and drive home blurry eyed, we're always glad the French let us know where we aren't.

                               

Home Sweet Apartment on The Seine (well, almost)

  Are we really here? Or is it just a wondrous dream?

The Barnes and The Seine--incoyable!

In fourth grade I learned a song about The Seine: Oh, the cool and winding river, gently wends its way along. On a lovely summer morning, it sings this happy song: Elle chante, chante, chante, chante, chante le jour et la nuit. Car la Seine est une amante et son amant c'est Paris!

Even in my fourth grade dreams I couldn't have imagined that I would ever be here sharing this dream with someone I love.

When we moved into our new apartment, we were thrilled to learn that our short path along the Seine to the mission office was named "Barnes Way." Could the sign be a sign???

Probably not, but we always KNEW we were meant to be here! And we are so thankful we are.

 
So we are finally settled in our new apartment! We're just thrilled to be here and to be so comfortable for the next 17 months. In the picture below, our apartment is the one on the second floor with the flowerbox on the railing.

Doug coming home from the grocery store up the street

And now (drum roll, please), a tour of our new home.

The living room/dining room:

   

 
We christened our new apartment with a going-away get together for two departing missionary couples--the Wilsons and the Graffs. The Todds, Vandivers, Monsons, and Barnes wished them "Bon Voyage."


Continuing our tour:

Our one-person kitchen, complete with washer, dryer, and dishwasher.

Our bedroom

YOUR bedroom

The WC

The bathroom

That's all folks...home sweet apartment. And we couldn't be happier!

First Family Visitor and Grandkid Fix

Our nine-year-old grandson Elliot Peters came last weekend with his other grandpa John Peters and spent a few days with us. What a joy! We met them in Versailles, went through the Palace (including the Hall of Mirrors) and the gardens (where we watched beautiful fountain shows accompanied by Baroque music throughout the grounds). We took a break for lunch at a sidewalk café, where I once again enjoyed French onion soup (I’m learning that it is really called “Soupe à l’Oignon Gratinée”—I can spot it on any menu anywhere now—my French is definitely improving, as needed, anyway). Elliot loved the French “frites” and ice cream. 

We returned home, parked at the apartment, walked to the neighborhood patisserie, each chose a treat, checked out the apartment with special attention to see if the black and white cat that comes in through our second-story window was visiting, had dinner at the downstairs crêperie, and then played games. Elliot beat us all soundly.

Elliot preferred calling it the "Creep-erie"

The next morning we had breakfast, went to church in Versailles followed by a trip to the construction site of the Paris temple where we peeked through gaps in the fence and enjoyed seeing its progress, then came home for more games, a pork chop dinner prepared by Grandpa Doug, still more games, and then went through the trauma of saying goodbye, once more.

We loved having time with them. We wish Marsha (the other grandma) could have joined us—it would have been perfect if she had. We’re so grateful to John for providing this opportunity to Elliot and all of us. We’d love to have more visitors at any time! Just let us know.

My first trip to Paris

We took the train into the Latin Quarter (left bank of the Seine) and then walked to the Ils de la Cite to visit Notre Dame cathedral, which was begun in 1163 in the Reign of Louis VII. I had my picture taken there with Great (great, great, great…?) Grandpa Charlemagne; well, at least a statue of him and his horse. My dad was always so proud to be a descendant of Charlemagne so that picture was for my dad. 

Grandpa Charlemagne and me

We then went to the Sainte-Chapelle, which housed relics from the crusades including the Crown of Thorns purchased by St. Louis. The Crown itself cost more than the cost of building the chapel to house it and other relics brought to Paris. We then walked (finding ourselves in the midst of a huge LGBT Pride Day parade!) by the Louvre and through the Tuileries Gardens to the Place de la Concorde (the largest square in Paris) where we took the metro up to Montmartre and climbed hundreds of steps to reach Sacred Heart church and the artists’ square. There I got my first official bowl of my much anticipated French Onion Soup. Delicious! The day was filled with wondrous sights, sounds, history and tastes (and sore muscles). 

Doug feeding the pigeons at Notre Dame

I should mention that the highlight of Doug’s day in Paris was being stopped by a French couple who asked HIM for directions, which he administered with complete fluency, confidence and accuracy—he definitely fits in here as a Frenchman. People are constantly telling me how impeccable his French is and, after speaking with him, the French themselves are often amazed that he was not born and raised in France. As for me and my French, I’m getting really good at standing by him and looking engaged while proudly nodding and smiling, quite often at the appropriate times.