Bread is Life

October 6, 2013

Like a runaway train; this best describes how this group of relative strangers took to the French experience. 

Reflecting back on the trip, I'm now sitting in the Charles De Gaulle Aeroport typing the copy for this entry. They've surrounded departing passengers with the world's best in chocolate, wine, clothing, handbags and of course perfume. So many scents linger thickly in the air; a conglomerate of everything we've seen, smelled and tasted here in France - and I'm transported back in time.

Charcuteries (meat), boulangeries (bread), patisseries (pastries), fromageries (cheese), and cafes (coffee) are all places the French simply run to as a part of their daily errands. Unlike in America where all your groceries are located within one large warehouse - these quaint shops were magic sanctums for us. The simple stucco buildings were draped in red and pink geraniums and accessorized with red-painted doors which opened onto a worldly dream.

Town of Artannes

Our manoir was located in the town of Artannes.  The butcher there was a very happy man and greeted every visitor with a hearty laugh and strong, meaningful, "Bonjour! Ha ha."  We visited him on several occasions  for ideas on what to 'create' (the key word in this sentence) for dinner.  Hmm?  What SHALL we make for dinner? Is it possible to gush over a display of meat? 

Through a series of single words sentences and elaborate and comical hand gestures we're able to communicate with one another. More than once I caught the locals in line behind us exchanging communication with their eyes. Likely thinking, "Alore... what's the big deal, they can't make a decision over a chicken?"

The boulanger sells bread.  She is open early in the morning, but I noticed steady stream of traffic in the late afternoon.  A couple of us were milling over which bread to bring home for dinner that night (decisions, decisions), when a young boy ran in.  He cut to the front of the line, placed his two-Euro on the counter and was automatically handed two baguettes and some change. He paused only briefly at the door where the shopkeeper had strategically placed a rack filled with "penny" candy.  Remembering he was sent on a mission he overcame his impulse, exited the shop, hopped on his bike and pedaled away - with the two baguettes neatly tucked underneath his arm.  I can't make this up - this IS France.   

In France - most businesses close for 2 hours over lunch.  As Americans traveling abroad you have to learn the art of waiting.  One afternoon we were too tired to do a lot of sightseeing so we wandered into our temporary township on foot. In a McDonalds, 24/7 society, we were somewhat disappointed to find everything closed...everything but the corner bar.  So this plucky group crossed the street and idled away an hour by throwing back a few beers and entertaining the locals.  It was clear we were the subject of town gossip, "...those crazy Americans - did you hear how much time it took them to make up their minds to buy a chicken?"  

The bar also serves as a cafe and a restaurant.  In the mornings a few of us would go for a walk, stop for a croissant at the boulangerie, then sit down to enjoy a cafe au lait.  One morning a couple of ladies seated inside were joined by a third.  They each stood to greet her, exchanging a kiss on each cheek.  Just like the movies.  While I couldn't understand what they were whispering I could tell it was the same subject matter as is likely discussed by women around the globe... what's not going right, what's been a surprise, what's worthy to celebrate.  

Bread is life, and from what I learned bread is also the social network of France.  In America we start our day on Facebook, at work we may Tweet about a sports score or political snafu.  In France... they begin their day at the boulangerie or cafe.  The shopkeeper shares an update on a sick neighbor or sends a friendly greeting home to another citizen by way of her children (her errand boys sent into town to pick up the bread for the evening dinner table.) Who needs technology when you've got a baguette network? 

Chagrin partagé, chagrin diminué; plaisir partagé, plaisir doublé.  Translation: Joy shared, joy doubled; sorrow shared, sorrow halved.  A lesson learned in France.