Sitting in the midst of suitcases, bags and a growing "donation" box, the reality of moving back has firmly arrived. I will say, this week has been punctuated by emotions ranging from denial to anxiety about airline luggage regulations to honest glee at the notion of seeing familiar faces to concern over reverse culture shock to excitement about a new job. To be honest, at times its been a bit harder to process than I had anticipated. In the end, however, the call of home is still the most powerful emotion.
When I'm not obsessing over luggage or some new emotional swing, though, we are also attempting to do things for "la derniere fois" or "the last time". This week, we've eaten at three of our favorite restaurants, visited the Louvre, walked along the Seine, had several goodbye lunches with people, went shopping, had our last meal at home (cheese, boudin blanc, rillettes, and a good bottle of wine) and still carved out some time for sleeping and packing.
One of the most special moments of this last week, however, was my last cooking lesson (for now) with Iris. Over our last few gatherings, Iris and I were making a list of a few French recipes that I hadn't yet cooked, but the one that intrigued me and I didn't feel like I could leave without knowing was Pot-au-Feu—essentially a boiled pot of meat and vegetables that is elevated to a place of honor at the French table.
Iris sent me a shopping list which included: three marrow bones, "1 kilo plat de cote avec les os, 600 Gr de jarret de boeuf, 600 Gr de gite-gite en un seul morceau." I will say, it felt like a final exam at the butcher. With the exception of the marrow bones, which I had heard about but had not yet purchased, I wasn't familiar with a single ingredient. The list was essentially a mixture of beef that is fairly inexpensive and is at its best after several hours of cooking (think French pot roast).
My butcher seemed happy to help, knew exactly what I needed and I felt like it was a final French victory for me. The day with Iris was lovely and our Pot-au-Feu was really tasty. Throughout the day, we talked of cooking techniques, laughed a lot and she even gave me her mother's Poule-au-pot recipe, which was essentially like the beef dish, but for chicken. I made the chicken dish on Sunday for some friends and I can honestly say I leave with two more French standards in my repertoire.
But aside from a few last French recipes, I've also taken some time to ponder this question of returning. In one of the rare moments of honest anxiety about returning home, I went so far as to look up on the Internet, "How to cope with reverse culture shock." Wikipedia even has a fairly extensive section on the various stages of adjustment and coping strategies. The one part that I found particularly fascinating and odd though was "Culture shock manifests itself in different ways. Some symptoms include changes in diet and sleeping patterns and an increased need of hygiene." Increased need of hygiene? It almost begs for a French joke, but I suppose only time will tell if upon return to DC, I find myself needing to shower excessively.
But for now, there is certainly no time for excess showering. Bags need to be packed and a small but important list of last minute tourism still awaits. Josh and I plan on spending our last day doing "the death march", which most of our visitors experienced to some degree their first day here. It’s the tour that goes from our apartment, to the Mosque for tea, to Notre Dame, to ice cream at Berthillon to a pass by the old city wall—and a few other stops if our legs still can keep going. It’s the trek we did on
And so, this is my last post from here. Thank you for giving us a forum to rant, brag, process and report on our adventures. I suspect there will be at least an entry or two upon our return, if I can find time between my many showers and the reality of life that awaits. I also know Josh has a few last posts up his sleeve, so if you aren't bored with us, there are a few more chapters in the wings. But for now, this is Sara Gibson signing off from
A bientot,
sPg
Posts
4 comments:
I am going to miss reading about your adventures! I think you should keep up the blog when you get back to DC. Pretty please?
As someone who fondly remebers her own "death march" with Josh during one of his prior Parisian stays (remember that, Josh?), enjoy it! Have a scoop at Berthillon for me.
'There is never any ending to Paris and the memory of each person who has lived in it differs from that of any other.'
I am the son of Erich Kahnt (born in 1941). Erich Kahnt (my producer / "Erzeuger") must have created me when going from Paris to the Eastern Front via Mainz with my mother (his legal wife). They divorced somewhere around 1948 (because of Georgette) and he never ever took care of me and my sister. We had to sue him for alimony which mostly he did not pay and we had to sue again and again.
I saw him twice in my life ...once when we fled the Russian Zone in 1945/46 on the way to the French zone (via Baden Baden where he was the director of the Kurhotel Baden Baden ...with the help of Georgette...taking care of the big french guys running the show at that time). And once I visited him and Georgette at the Lake Constance...for a few hours and the "reunion" was disappointing. And we never contacted each other again. When he died (around 1984/85) we all refused the part of inheritance legally left for us because that would be the last things we needed at that time. My mother was a dressmaker and many of her customers wer Juwish. She was not an Antisemit but my father obviously was. My mother died 1997 and I read from your blog and attachment that Georgette died 2000 in Mittenwald. Now they and all the others from those terrible times are dead but the world goes on as before and every day brings good things, bad things...nothing has changed only the actors and different scripts.
Can you reach out to me via email at (type this in reverse order, I am doing this so I don't get spam from other readers) moc.liamg@nosbigdivadauhsoj
If you would be comfortable sharing any more info, that would be great. What's so interesting about this story is that I read the original documents, and was obviously sympathetic to Dr. Salezberger. Then I read the Erich/Georgette documents and was surprised to be sympathetic to them. Then I read your comments, and I lose sympathy for Erich and Georgette and am deeply sympathetic to you and your mother.
Having first-person narratives from each actor in the exact same case is so fascinating and historically important. I hope you'll reach out to me so we can figure out what, if anything, you'd be willing to share. You, of course, would set all the rules for what if anything is shared.
thanks again for reaching out!
Post a Comment