Change is good
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We’re living in the countryside. Sarah is working at the high school in Nontron, the big city of 3000 people. We’re living outside of the city, in the village area of Saint Martial de Valette in a tiny cluster of houses known as Rapevache. Mail is delivered by the name of the person who lives at the house – we don’t have a house number or even a street name. Some mornings we wake up to hunting dogs howling, or donkeys hee-hawing or whatever sound they feel like making that day. Most of the houses around us are raising either animals or plants to bring to market: geese, ducks, deer, sheep. Last week, Sarah and I picked wild blackberries from bushes along the side of our road. She made some awesome jam with them, but I definitely feel like an old man or some kind of country bumpkin.
The houses are almost stereotypically quaint. Lots of stone, bright colored shutters, orange roofs made of wavy, ceramic tiles. Our place is nice as well – two bedrooms, a fireplace in the living room, a garden area that was very nice for the first few days we were here when it was warm. Now it’s gotten a bit colder and we’re stuck indoors more often – in the living area/kitchen that smells a bit like old meat. Our landlords explained how it’s always smelled that way and probably has for a few hundred years. They redid the room with insulation and new drywall and scrubbed and scrubbed and the smell remains. You get used to it after a minute or two.
For the past two weeks, we were without a car (a problem since solved). Most days we walked into Nontron, about 5-6km (3+ miles) from our house. I’m not sure at what point we decided that we were tired of this and decided to hitchhike a bit. It turned out to be relatively easy and reliable – I think there was only one instance where we were not able to get a ride. This also allowed Sarah and I to practice our French conversations with the locals. After a few days we stopped though. I think we were gaining a reputation as the American hitchhikers.
Most days have been spent identifying one problem and trying to get it solved: getting a cellphone, a bank account, finding this or that service. Anyone familiar with French customs will understand you shouldn’t try to do too many things in one day – an effort in futility. After that problem was solved, we’d go test our translation skills in the supermarket. This is our favorite time of day – food! And everything said about French food is true, even the supermarket stuff. It’s better, not filled with the garbage (high fructose corn syrup et al.) that most American food is covered in. My only complaint is that the supermarket doesn’t really have a section for chips. Their snacks tend to be cookies and crackers. I have to go to a smaller convenience store to find some crunchy snacks to chew on. C’est la vie.
Sarah and I are getting along fine. Haven’t killed each other yet, which may be attributable to the fact that I’ve bound and gag her in the guest bedroom so I don’t have to listen to her I just nod and say "yes" to whatever she wants to do. The true test will be the coming winter when we’ll be stuck indoors more often. We’re both hoping to continue integrating with the community more. Just this past weekend, we went to the Rugby match between C.S. Nontron (Club Sportif) and Rodez. There was a fist-fight between some players and we shouted “Allez, Nontron, Allez” (Go, Nontron, Go!) – Can’t ask for much more.
In the coming weeks, we’ll try to get into our routines much more – Sarah teaching, and me writing. We’ll also have some good ol’ fashioned, French bureaucracy fun as we apply for our residency cards – which we expected to do today, but, oh, no we don’t process them here, you’ll have to go to Perigueux. “Oh yes, hello this is Perigueux. Sorry you’ll have to call back later. We’re seeing appointments this morning so we don’t talk to people on the phone until the afternoon.” Joy.
