Yesterday was Wednesday and as I "work" (I put it in quotes because I don't actually start teaching until next Thursday, so it still doesn't feel like real work yet) in the elementary school system, I have Wednesdays off. So I woke up bright and early to go to the CAF (Caisse des Allocations Familiales -- the bureau which offers reimbursements to young workers who don't get paid very much, like me) to pick up some forms. Then I made some serious progress in Au Bonheur des Dammes -- only 95 pages to go, out of the original 495! I had just made some lunch when I got a phone call from my downstairs neighbor.
A little backstory: last week I wrote a letter to each of the two families who live on the bottom two floors. Steph and Charly told me that they both have kids and that the English teaching assistant who lived with them last year, Anna, would babysit for these kids occasionally. Having your babysitting job in the same building seems like a pretty sweet deal to me, so I dropped a note in each of their mailboxes explaining who I was, how long I would be here, and that I would be more than willing to babysit. I ran into the first-floor neighbor last Saturday and he told me that his family doesn't use babysitters very often -- no luck there. So it was Mr. Oldendorf, whose family lives on the second floor, who called yesterday to say that they would love to have me babysit occasionally for their two daughters and invited me down for a cup of coffee. Since I happened to be in the building and didn't have any other plans, I accepted. Mr. Oldendorf is German, but his wife Corinne is French. Their two daughters (the one who was home yesterday appeared to be about 6 and was very shy, and the other is apparently 11) speak both French and German. He is an artist/professor at the art school at the university here and she works for the French ministry of culture.
Mr. Oldendorf brewed us both a cup of very strong but very delicious coffee and we talked for quite a while about Besançon, Bern (the area where he grew up), and Paris. Then his daughter's friend came over for a playdate, so he brewed some more coffee for the playdate's father, and it turned into quite an extensive conversation about the United States, 9/11, and many other things. Afterward, I reflected upon whether this conversation could have taken place in another context. For instance, was the interaction only interesting because it involved two (later three) people from two (later three) different countries who were interested to hear the opinions of someone from another country? For instance, even if I was the "new neighbor" at home, another American would probably be less inclined to ask how I felt the US had changed in the aftermath of September 11th. I am positive that my sending the letter offering to babysit was what prompted the invitation for coffee -- otherwise I might have gone the whole 8 months here never meeting or having a real conversation with my neighbors. Maybe part of it too is that this conversation took longer because it involved translation -- Mr. Oldendorf speaks fluent German and French and his English is fairly fluent (I would probably classify it as fluent, even if there were a few words he asked me to explain or define). My French is certainly fluent by American standards, but not quite there when compared to the speech of a local. Or maybe it's because I'm not yet incredibly busy, the way I often become when I'm at home or when I was at Wake. It made me wonder if I ever missed out on conversations like this, because I was zealous in filling my schedule with activities...
And now for the two glasses of wine. So Charly, the second half of the couple with whom I share this apartment, has been in Bordeaux for the past week. He is working on his PhD in archeology and part of his thesis research involves analyzing soil cores from Greenland. Apparently there are some scientific devices at the university in Bordeaux which they don't have here in Besançon, because he had to drive some of the cores there this week to analyze them using said equipment. I noticed earier this week that Steph hasn't been cooking as much as she normally does when he's home, so I offered to cook dinner for the two of us tonight.
The entree itself was pretty simple: peppers stuffed with a combination of rice, chickpeas, tomatoes, onions, and cheese. But along with that we had a simple salad, some whole-grain bread from a local boulangerie, a bottle of Pinot Noir from Bourgogne, and for dessert some chocolat noir noisette (dark chocolate with hazelnuts) made by Cote d'Or, a brand which is available in the grocery store but which I selected at random my second week here and found to be absolutely delicious. The stuffed peppers turned out to be quite good -- I made quite a few substitutions and sort of guessed for the measurements, since it was an American recipe, so I was particularly pleased that they worked out. This picture doesn't quite do the meal justice... I took it somewhat hastily, I promise it was much more appetizing than it appears here:
But the best part of the evening was the conversation. I didn't really note what time we started eating... it was probably about 8:30pm (I got back from observing in the schools around 5:45pm after running a few quick errands on the way home, went for a run, showered, then started cooking). But we didn't finish until nearly 11:45pm! We didn't talk about anything earth-shattering, but all sorts of things both banal and personal. It was very pleasant to take the whole evening preparing dinner and enjoying the meal -- I wasn't wearing a watch and had no reason to consult the time outside of cooking times. I know that my schedule will not always be this free-form, and so I'm glad the Type A that dominates my personality was able to take a backseat tonight, even if it was just for an evening.
Well now it's well past my bedtime! Bon soir!
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