After initiating a transfer process that moved as slow as a slug in snow, we have finally relocated to Grenoble, France. And we have decided to stay. Yippee!
Leaving
It was nobody's fault that it took from April to December for the final decision to be made. For instance, who could have anticipated the Global Economic Crisis? But now it has really happened ... and despite the global crisis we took a leap of faith. In six squashed weeks we shifted from slash and burn purging of accumulated life accoutrements to madly packing to saying "Adios Amigos" (I'm consistently speaking Spanish to the Grenoblois ... as if all non-English language has been placed in the same vacuous drawer in my brain. When I reach for a word I never know if it will be German (Yah), Spanish (que rico!) or even more obscure, Latin (nobis patchem). What I do know is that under stress it is unlikely to be a French word that spills out of my mouth. Merde.).
Saying good-bye to our vibrant community and family members on the wet and wild west coast (or should I say buried under snow coast) was like being inside the spin cycle of a washing machine. I was wrung out. Col was strung out. But Callum was busy introducing friends and neighbours to his "personal pool" at the hotel and showing them how to use the magic door key. What a terrifically flexible kid. What was particularly hard to say "so long" to was the magnificence of the blue green open sky and sea. Until our reconnaissance to Grenoble in December neither Colin nor I realized how vital the beauty, freshness and easy availability of the urban wilderness is to our peace of mind. As parents we had come to count on creeks, beaches and bouldering sites being within easy walking distance. We were spoilt by the availability of great parks, climbable trees and huge green fields right outside our front door. The great thing is, we both feel at home in Victoria, B.C. and know we will return. We joke about how Callum will see the world as a child and then when he moves out he'll relocate just down the street from us in Victoria and never leave the area. OR, he will join an Ultimate Frisbee team and hang out near naked in Mexico until his early 30's. Care to make a bet?
For now we're content to be in Grenoble. We've already adopted some French habits and we've barely begun to discover the wonders of the Alpine region. Plus Europe is our back yard. How awesome is that? Oh, and guess what else. The cheese shop down the street is in the Guinness Book of World Record for two feats:
1. The largest variety of cheese (479 varieties of French cheese)
2. The largest offering of farmers' cheese (150 varieties of cheese from around the world)
And half a block in the other direction is a Circus School. That's so cool that if I'd written it in a book you'd have told me, "It's not believable." True story. Here are the websites:
http://www.les-alpages.fr/
http://www.dauphicirque.com/
If you wish to translate a page from another language into English:
1. right click while your curser is on the page
2. when the selection box appears select page info
3. select translate page into English
Yorkshire
In early January we left Canada for Leeds, Yorkshire. Callum and I stayed for two weeks, basking in the company of three dogs and the generousity of family. Grandma Gilly works at Temple Newsam, which is one of the great historic estates in England. Set within over 1500 acres of parkland, woodland and farmland landscaped by Capability Brown in the 18th century, it is a magnificent Tudor–Jacobean mansion. It is Europe's largest working Rare Breeds Farm and has over 400 animals set within the original estate. What a place to run around and explore! www.leeds.gov.uk/templenewsam Other highlights of our visit included Callum running up and down the ramparts of York Castle - much to the shock of Uncle Mark who held his heart in his hand while Callum skied down on his heels; Callum meeting and being cooed to by "Spud" Novak - a 21 year old collared dove that Mark's parents rescued from a cat 20 years ago; watching Callum and Millie together (Grandma Gilly's 10 month old Bichon Frise); hanging around the Royal Armoury http://www.armouries.org.uk/ ; getting to know our English/Scottish relatives and friends better; and visiting Eureka! (http://www.eureka.org.uk/ a schmorgasborg of science and imagination for kids). A definite high point for Callum was spending time with cousin William and Grandma Gilly and Grandpa Tim. William - beware - I will practice my ABBA songs and defeat you in our next sing-off! It was a great trip: rejuvenating, playful and a wonderful reprieve before dousing ourselves in French culture and the work of setting up a home while learning a new language.
Ironically, when Callum saw his dad in Grenoble after two weeks of being apart, he excitedly told him, "Guess what Dada ... in England they speak Canadian!"
Schneider Electric
Colin stopped in Leeds only for a quick hello, some fish and chips (Skyliner does the best fish and chips ever!) and a curry. (An aside: One of Callum's favourite jokes is: What does a sea monster eat? Fish and ships!) On January 11th Colin headed down to Grenoble to start his new position at Schneider Electric in Grenoble in the Alpine/Dauphine region/Isere department of France.
http://www.schneider-electric.com/
Schneider is a huge operation in Grenoble. They employ approximately 10,000 employees at 18 locations around the city. Colin is doing Global Technical Support for PMC products and some on-site Application Engineering. Last weekend he was sent to Nancy Ville in northern France and had an evening stop-over in Paris. He walked around Notre Dame Cathedral, the Seine River, Avenue Des Champs and the Tour Eiffel until the sun went down and his hip flexors seized up.
While the professional language of Schneider is officially English, Colin needs to speak French in order to relate to his workmates. He is continually surprising me with how fast he can pick up phrases and vocabulary. I need to be careful when I learn things from him though, since I might end up speaking French with a Yorkshire accent.
Language
OH MY GOSH! How much humble pie can one person eat? I took my "French as a Foreign Language Test" through http://www.alliancefr-grenoble.org/ today and I was brought to my knees. It's tough enough learning to ask for Fromage Sassenage (a local cheese) or medications for a child with a fever who bounces off the walls if the Doliprane contains red food colouring. Why isn't it O.K. to just say, "Ich nicht habla Francaise"?
I'm actually learning a lot by compulsively reading labels and by listening to people order and converse when I'm queuing up for vegetables and bread. I've also had the great fortune to meet up with some ex-pats who are patient and kindly teaching me the ways and wonders of the French. Open House Grenoble http://www.openhousegrenoble.org/ has been a tremendous resource for me. I'm attempting to meet them for coffee on Tuesday mornings and have a perpetual date at O'Callahan's pub on Thursday nights. I've even joined a Writers' Association through one of their members whom I happened to meet while observing a strike demonstration at the Prefecture (legislature)! NaTasha, Alan and their four and a half year old daughter Naomi have been a delight to meet and have been giving me a wealth of insider information. What are the odds of meeting people you want to keep in your life within 48 hours of greeting a new country? And add to that the weirdness that NaTasha and I had actually been introduced via email through a mutual writer friend. And yet we met by "accident". I tell you, the world is a magical place.
The locals are also gracious with me and welcoming to Callum. I've learned my line, "Je regret ... Je ne parle pa Francaise." Please excuse the spelling if it is wrong, but the line is, "I regret that I do not yet speak French". Once I've presented this apology the Grenoblois tend to speak more slowly and are attentive to my fumblings. I am grateful for their generousity of time. I am especially grateful because Colin's aunt Josie has given me a head's up on how long it actually takes for most adults to learn a new language. Four years. Now I was expecting six months of uncomfortable, two years to get oriented to common phrases and get my ear in tune, and if I can converse comfortably about philosophy or politics and make appropriate witty remarks in four years I'll be happy. Long haul but worth it.
Callum has been watching some morning cartoons in French and has made a French playmate (the wispy blonde bilingual Canadian Naomi who is four and a half and has lived here for two years. She has as much energy and inquisitiveness as he does so they're a good match). He is learning a smattering of French, some of which is absolutely correct and other times is as whacked out as a hamster playing cards with a fish. "Excuser moi" ("Excuse me.") was one of his correct sayings. A badly off base one was thinking "Oui" ("Yes") meant "Yummy." We hope to get him into French classes soon. We can't sign him up for school until we sign a contract for an apartment. Where you attend school depends on where you live, and the population is so dense downtown that each school has an approximate eight block radius, and these blocks are short!
Kids are eligible for school at age 3. School is mandatory by age 5. School is Mon. - Fri. 8:30 to 4:30, except everyone takes Wednesday off to do sports, music lessons, etc. The day of alternate activities has its origin in Catechism, but now most people use the time for extra-curricular activities. Schools here concentrate on academics and it's very competitive in that regard. The French are more balanced in terms of time off though. Adults work long hours but also have great breaks. Everything shuts down at Christmas and for the month of August. Kids have two 2 week breaks in the spring (in February and April) as well as the summer and Christmas holidays. Colin gets 52 days off a year!
It is currently break time this week so I signed Callum up for a week of bilingual preschool (10 hours). The night before preschool started I was up all night. When I left him that first day I thought I was going to puke or cry or both. When I went to pick him up he didn't want to leave. What do I know? Mind you, by Wednesday he was exhausted. I can hardly wait until I find him a more permanent community. He misses his friends and wants to show them the B.C. Roman ruins under Grenoble and the Bubbles that go up La Bastille - the old prison on top of the Massif across the river Isere. Fantastic view of the city and a maze of tunnels and walking trails.
Natural and Human History, Culture and Sports
The history here is astounding. The Roman Ruins under the square in front of little Notre Dame predate Christ. There is a roman wall downtown that stands next to a public rose garden. The St. Laurent bridge across the river Isere is the site of the original bridge built in 43 B.C. by Roman Legionaires. And there are forts and monasteries that are carved into the rock of the Alps. The Chartreuse Range contains 40 km of protected park in honour of Saint Bruno and the Chartreuse Order started in 1084. The serenity of the place fits the legacy. Nearby is the valley of 100 castles, the Chamrousse area of the Belledonne Range that hosted the 1968 Winter Olympic Alpine skiing events, and the Vercors Range - a paradise for Nordic skiing, snowshoeing and dogsledding. In the summer the villages are surrounded by forests and long green pastures paint-splattered with wildflowers. There are also caves where cheese is made (ie. the Sassenage) and wine is aged.
The outdoor sport scene is rampant here. It's not unusual to walk down the street and be passed by a woman on a bicycle with ski gear strapped to her back. It is equally as common to share tram space with snowboarders. In the summer it's common for people to spend their weekends paddling, rock climbing, caving, hiking, mountain biking and geocaching. A couple of friends of ours just went geocaching last week. It's a high-tech treasure hunting game played throughout the world by adventure seekers equipped with GPS devices. The basic idea is to locate hidden containers, called geocaches, in urban and bush areas outdoors and then to share experiences online. There are 728,162 geocaches around the world! http://www.geocaching.com/.
Urban sports are a mixed bag because there's such a melding of cultures in Grenoble. According to the Wikipedia, the most watched sport in France is football (soccer), colloquially refered to as 'le foot'. Other popular sports include handball, basketball, rugby union, cycling, sailing and tennis. France is known for winning the World Cup in 1998, holding the annual cycling race Tour de France, and the tennis Grand Slam tournament the French Open. And did you know that the modern Olympics were invented in France in 1894?
Other important sports here include Grand Prix Racing (Formula 1), which was invented here in 1946; Fencing - for which France won Gold at the summer Olympics; Parkour - a physical activity that resembles martial arts; and Babyfoot (table football -the French are the predominant winners of worldwide table football competitions!). Outside, during summer vacations, the casual form of the game of Pétanque (similar to Bocce) is played by about 17 million people in France. Bocce ball games are also common in the parks here because the Italian influence is so strong. Little Italy surrounds the hill La Bastille sits on and there is a plethora of pizza and pasta places which lead your nose right to it.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Culture_of_France
Food and "Why French Women Don't Get Fat"
The French are known for their food. They are also known for a low rate of heart disease, a lack of obesity and mucho smoking (Nobody's perfect. By the way, smoking laws in France are coming in line with those in Canada and the U.K.). Now that I've lived here for a short while, and after having read Mireille Guiliano's book, "Why French Women Don't Get Fat", I'm beginning to understand why the French people are healthy. And the explanation is lengthy, complicated and integrated. Let me try to summarize.
The French have a totally different relationship to food than North Americans. The basic premise is to indulge in everything, but nothing to excess. Do not deprive yourself. If you want chocolate, have a piece of chocolate, and stop at that. Or eat less tomorrow, but truly savour the decadence of that one piece. And French people don't snack. Only children are seen eating while walking, usually right after being picked up from school. People don't carry TO GO coffee cups because they sit down for coffee. Isn't that the point of coffee? To sit down, converse and chill out? Eating an apple in an elevator is considered rude. In Colin's contract it actually specifies that he cannot eat lunch at his desk. Instead, lunch time is a long drawn-out sit down affair. Even the preschool NaTasha introduced me to has two hours for lunch and provides a five course meal every noontime. One hour for eating, one hour for play.
On the other love handle, exercising just for the sake of burning calories is extremely unusual. A single trip to the gym costs 20 Euros. At the current exchange rate that's about $30 Canadian. But who needs to go to the gym when we're climbing eight flights of stairs to Steph and Andrew's apartment, or walking to work, or spending all weekend skiing? I must admit I have not yet mastered the balance of eating vs. working out, but I do find myself continually active throughout the day. What I have automatically in my favour is the local food.
The markets here are incredible. So much stuff is local, and if it's not local it's from nearby: pasta from Italy, seafood from the Mediteranean or oranges from Spain. It's all fresh. People here have tiny fridges and shop every couple of days. After the first week I understood why. If you buy something when it's been picked ripe and perfect for eating, it not only explodes with flavour if eaten within hours, it also goes rotten if it's not.
One of the friends I have made here grew up picking berries between 7 - 9 am in the morning in order to maximize their flavour after sunrise but before losing their freshness. He can tell that the produce here is that fresh, every day. Everything from cheese, meat, fish and walnuts to fruit, vegetables, wine and bread is available locally due to the farming district, or within a three hour drive. And you can tell from the colours and the shapes that they are not genetically messed with or grown hydroponically. This holistic and naturally organic approach, plus dedicaiton to quality, lead to beautiful presentations.
An example of this was the bouquet I ordered in the market last Sunday. Granted, I made a language mistake and asked for a large bouquet of orchids and lilies as opposed to the humble bundle of spring flowers. But how wonderful when the vendor wrapped the buds and greenery in old sheets of music. And then she made Callum and Naomi wee bouquets for free. Something so simple as adding the music was visually stunning. Life as art.
Colin couldn't get after me for ordering the enormous bouquet because his faux pas in the open market was miming for shoulder chops. Before he could stop it the butcher had wrestled a full lamb onto the block and chopped up the shoulder into hunks of what turned into nearly a week's worth of lamb stirfry.
Even the prepackaged food is awesome. It's distinctly lacking in preservatives, pesticides and chemicals (and the other crap we put in food in N. America like corn syrup and wheat filler). It's actually real food. Wahoo! And although isn't cheap, most large grocery stores and even corner stores have an aisle or two of organic or alternative foods. There are also four stores within a 10 minute walk that carry specialized items that are casein and gluten free which Callum can eat. I'm stoked. My son, who has sensitivities to 48 separate edible items, has more variety to choose from in France than he did in Canada. What a relief.
And on the topic of LARGE stores, there's a shop here that makes WalMart look like a carport. The Carrefour close to us has 57 tills! And there are still line-ups.
One thing I've had trouble adjusting to is the coffee. The French love their cups of coffee strong, hot, small and sweet. I keep wanting to hold a substantially larger cup in my hand and have come to the conclusion that I need to order a Grand Creme if I want more than five sips of elixir. The problem is that it's really quite strong. 15 minutes after a Grand Creme I feel like little rabbit Foo Foo who got bopped over the head and I can't feel the ground beneath my feet. Thankfully I wear Merrell approach shoes, which have good grip.
Fashion
Speaking of footwear, I really need to find some boots. Despite being multi-cultural and economically diverse here most people are well shod. And look swish. When I understand how the French style is going to meld with my mountain gear-head attitude and still be naturally me, I'll post a picture. The people in Lyon call the Grenoblois bears because they are mountain people. I actually fit in reasonably well with the sporty and the students, but I'm here to learn, to better myself, to add to the visual package that currently screams, "Mom, eh". I do have a scarf so I'm on my way. I hope to arrive before spring.
Next Post
In my next post I'll cover a few other topics like the crazy expensive prices and what's weirdly cheap, our debate of whether to live in the suburbs or the urban environment, the amazing transport system, the kid-friendly green spaces we've been shown or have discovered, the wacky weather and micro-climates, how Callum makes all uneven surfaces his jungle gym and can find mud half a block in any direction from our Apart'hotel, and how we've managed to avoid stepping in dog doo thanks to an attentive child who's eyes are only 40 inches from the ground.
Living in a new country isn't easy, but we're having a wonderful time. Fellow adventurers like ourselves who know what it's like to arrive blind have made this place welcoming and accessible. I'd particularly like to thank Andrew and Steph, David and Melanie, NaTasha, Alan and Naomi, Mike, Mary Jane and Nicole, Fano, the Open House Grenoble folks, Schneider-Electric H.R. and LOGOS (Sylvie and Isabelle).
Have a wonderful Valentine's Day and I'll talk to you soon.
Now I need to go gaze at the Alps and play in the snow.
Love,
Ramona
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