Learn Spanish, In FRANCE!

This is what I´ll be doing tomorrow. Finally participating in the food fight I´ve dreamt about since I was a child. Nothing ever looked as fun as the foodfight during the opening credits of ¨21 Jump Street¨and my favorite Cheers episode was the Thanksgiving Food Fight Episode (Shelly Long Dressed as a Pilgrim, getting a bowl of mashed potatoes to the face. Comedic Genius).

My school has organized a trip to the Tomatina for this event. On a TEST DAY, no less. My list of instructions is hilarious. NO SANDALS. NO DIGITAL CAMERAS. Wear a Bathing Suit, Goggles and Ear Plugs. Underwater Cameras OK, but BRING NOTHING YOU CARE ABOUT. (Love that last line, and I didn´t even add the caps.) According to Wikipedia, no one has any idea WHY the festival started, but only that it quadruples the population of a tiny town for one day. The tomato throwing lasts about an hour and cannot begin until one of the participants climbs a greased pole to pull down a ham(!?!) (All holidays should begin this way)

But That Post will be written when I return...if I make it back.

Soooo,

I fled the Country for the weekend. Heading with Ben to St Etienne, his beloved home town for some good French food, a tour of the neighborhood and the BIGGEST FOOTBALL MATCH OF THE YEAR (for this small town, anyway).

St Etienne was lovely, and completely empty. Everyone in Europe takes August off (where do they all go? most likely the outlet malls in Leesburg).



I visited two of St. Eteinne´s three museums. (Contemporary Art and Industrial Art, I skipped the Mining Museum). The employees of said museums were flabbergasted that anyone not on a school fieldtrip would actually be visiting on a sunny day, and an American, no less!

One way to feel better about my level of Spanish, go to France. Its a nice reminder of how far I´ve come. I´ve been able to ask for bathrooms and more bread for WEEKS in Spain. In France, its back to hand gestures and bugged out eyes. Benoit´s parents own a gorgeous condo on the Main Street of town. The house is long and full of windows and warmth.

I stayed in Ben´s room and he stayed in his brother´s room. The first day was like any first day with a host family. You say your pleasantries run out of common language, and then play a form of ¨memory¨ and ¨name that tune¨
¨Dustin Hoffman?¨ they would ask.
¨Jean Reno¨ I´d reply.
We also made a trip to Ben´s old restaurant. The food was incredible, definitely up to the billing.

The highlight for me was the Foie Gras course. They were stunned that I´d never had it before. (but, I assured them, I loved salads, so this shouldn´t be a problem.) It was delicious of course, but more importantly, any time I ever see Foie Gras on a menu again, I get to say ¨You know, the BEST foie gras I ever had was at this amazing out of the way chef owned French Restaurant in....¨ that alone is worth the price of admission.

The restaurant is located on a tree lined cobblestone walkway that collects a good number of other restaurants and bars. As Ben has been out of town for 3 months his return equates to the biggest event of the month.

We couldn´t walk ten feet without the servers and owners of places stopping us and shepherding us in for a drink.

¨Metallica?¨
¨Air.¨
And on and on.


Once we ditched the parents it was on to more clubs. One called Pushkin, which had white padded walls in its interior (made more and more sense as the night went on).

We finished off the night at ¨The Mine¨ where hearing Eminem´s ¨Without Me¨ followed by the The Jackson 5´s ¨I Want You Back¨, is frankly, to be expected. Also, I give my new friends props for knowing more of the words than me.

The football match was Sunday night and ended up being a let down. The next door rivals (Leon, those scum) were clearly bigger and faster and just wore St. Eteinne down. At the end of the day, I was okay with that. Didn´t know if I could handle a victory celebration on top of everything else.

I gotta save something for the Food Fight of My Dreams.

See you after I´ve taken about ten showers.

Forrest