Thanksgiving à la France

That's right. Thanksgiving. But first, I have another conte to add to my previous repetoire. Then we'll get to Turkey Day.

Thursday I had English class. We are in the process of reading a short story in the back of our textbook that I've already read, like, a million times and it actually isn't that bad for a textbook short story. So. Everyone was struggling through it, taking turns reading, blahblahblah, and I'm kind of twiddling my thumbs. Then a boy in my class, Hugo, says, "Let's have Leah read!" and evreyone things that's a great idea. Woot. So I pick up from where we'd just left off ... and screw up. Oopsie. "Gosh!" I say in exasperation before continuing flawlessly though the rest of the text.

The class erupts once I finish. But it isn't because I read to fast or whatever. Through the tidal wave of French coming out on me, I pick out what the problem is: gosh. The word "gosh" wasn't in the text. Whywhywhy did I say it?

We had a five-minute conversation on interjections before moving on, but it was a fun moment for me.

I have noticed someting odd about my host mother's accent. The other day she asked if she could practice a bit of English with me--she teaches Engilsh to small children. Of course, I said yes and we started chatting for a while. It had been such a long time since we'd spoken in English in a really long time (rah rah!) and I'd forgotten what she sounded like speaking English. It's kind of funny because she has a mix of a French and Russian accent (her dad's Russian and taught her to speak it when she was little). It's cute.

Annnnnyhow. Thanksgiving. A bit late, I know, but on the real Thanksgiving we were too busy--Didier was leaving the next morning for Madagascar (lucky) and Victoria had a tango class. So, we did it yesterday. We couldn't find any cranberries or pumpkins, but it was okay. We had a nice turkey, cole slaw, green bean salad, potatoes, carrots, an apple pie and (not traditional, but because so many had been brought back from Madagascar) a mango pie.

Victoria got home yesterday (Friday) a short while after five. I was already cooking the green beans and she brought will her about five baguettes because what's a mean without baguettes???? Seriously. Preparation actually went quite smoothly, especially considering we did everything in under three hours! But it was a distinctly French Thanksgiving. We titles it LéaVic. Victoria's idea. Cute, huh?

Nine Rotarians plus Sayaka arrived at about eight o' clock. I think. At two minutes to eight I bolted upstairs and took a shower, changed my clothes and make-upped in less than fifteen minutes. When I got downstairs at almost a quarter after eight, most everyone was there.

We started, as we always do here, with little snacks. Cokes were offered to anyone who wanted to be American for the night but everyone but one person opted for champagne instead. We went into the living room and ate cherry tomatoes, pistachios, and (in honor of the US) chips and salsa. Really bad salsa.

A few refills of champagne each later, we migrated back into the dining room (which is the same room, really, just up, like, three steps). I told Victoria that in the USA during Thanksgiving (and all meals, really) we eat everything except the desserts together. She was nervous about that idea, though, so we served the green beans and cole slaw first (featuring homemade and not completely disgusting dressing by Leah).

Me and Alice and Sayaka were seated at the far end of the table and, naturally, we got to talking. That tends to happen, doesn't it? I relearned how to say "cheers" in Japanese which I now know in four languages (English, French, Italian, Japanese). Quite suddenly, everone had finished their salad and I was still chatting away with Alice and Sayaka, plate still half-full.

But we couldn't keep the Rotarians waiting. Turkey, potatoes and carrots were served. And. I must say. Yum.

MUCH smaller turkey than what is customary, but who needs all that when the portions are smaller and we still have leftovers anyway? Funnily enough we also had a cheese course, which both Alice and I always forgo. We accidentall brought the wrong cheese to the table at first. Oopsie.

In summary: success! It was the perfect mix of French and American so that it was reminiscent of Thanksgivings at home but so everyone was able to enjoy it. The apple pie, for instance, was different--more French. But there was apple pie nonetheless. You see?

Well, I'm off! À la prochaine!

I think I spelled that right.

Love,
Leah