Andréa and I were invited to his mom's house for lunch today. They had my new favorite cheese which I had mislabeled last time, it's Manchego. On top of that, Joelle had apparently made a surprise dish for me--something that I would like immensely. When we arrived I saw my surprise...Homemade lasagna!!! Ahhh!!! It was absolutely amazing!!! I normally like my lasagna drenched in tomato sauce but the way Joelle made it was perfect with the fresh tomatoes. I enjoyed it so much that I couldn't say no when she offered us some to take home for the night.
I met Andréa's sister for the first time today. She's 16 years older so she's normally off doing her own thing. She's the product of Joelle's first marriage--there's a lot of that in France nowadays. Candide is super nice and super beautiful in an age-appropriate sort of manner. She also speaks some english and that always makes me feel more comfortable when meeting strangers.
Albert, Andrea's step-father got the karaoke machine going after lunch. The microphones weren't working and he was intensely working on the issue like any normal engineer would. Even after we said we'd sing without the microphones he would just not let the problem go. He HAD to find the solution...I think we're kindred souls he and I because I'm exactly the same when it comes to technology. I picked up the owner's manual and took a gander inside. Albert never looks at the manual. Surprisingly there were instructions in english and I asked all of the appropriate questions before I found a probable solution. I had gotten up to show Albert the connection diagram when he kind of pushed me aside and said "No, no, ça va" and everyone sitting at the table said that he had just thought of the solution. It kind of offended me at first because I wanted to contribute but I understood because like I said before, I'm just like him and I never want any help.
Albert finally got the microphones working about 20 minutes later after we had already started singing. Joelle and Candide sing wonderfully and I felt a bit intimidated even though I have had over 15 years of formal training. I kind of stopped enjoying singing after dating a guy who was a music snob. I've only just begun to enjoy it again but it's difficult to fully take pleasure in music with my host family. The kids are always singing over me off-key, making up words because they don't try to learn the lyrics, and changing the station to something more overplayed. It was nearly impossible before but I've made it a new rule in my car that no one is allowed to touch the dial without my permission. They've listened, so far.
The family and I sang karaoke for about 3 hours, maybe more. I got somewhat bored half-way through because I didn't know any of the french songs. I tried to at least act like I was entertained because everyone else was having a super time.
We eventually parted ways though and Andréa and I headed back to his apartment just a few minutes away. At one of the stoplights, there was a man stopping at everyone's windows and begging. I hadn't given out any money to panhandler's since my first month in France so I thought it was a good time to start again. If any of you read that post, you know that I basically gave all the cash I came to France with because I didn't have to use the money on anything else. I looked through my wallet to find some coin pieces for the man. I didn't find any 1 or 2 euro coins but I found what looked like a 5 euro bill to me. I pulled it out and handed it to the man quickly because the light had turned green. The man's eyes lit up, he said "merci beaucoup!" and we took off. I turned to Andréa who had his mouth wide-open..."VINGT EUROS?!?!?!?" I didn't answer and thought to myself and came to the conclusion that he was probably right, it WAS 20 euros! The 5 euro bill and the 20 euro bill are basically the same color but I was sure Andréa was right. I knew what change I had gotten from the bar Thursday night --the last time I had used my cash, and a 5 was not a part of that. Oh well...There's my cap for the month. Besides, Andréa had said he had never seen that man begging before and those are roads that he frequents often. The man was standing in freezing weather and going window to window so he probably actually needed the help. That's what I hope for anyway.
On the other side of the "impoverished," there are the gypsies that stand at every stop light. I try to avoid stopping at these lights if possible because I know that I will not be able to say no. After today though, I don't think I will ever give money to a Romani ever again. Andréa says that he always sees the same women at the same street lights with different children. It could be that these women have several children of the same age group, but unlikely. According to Andréa, they carry the children around to make you feel sorry for them. He made me observe today while we were driving around and the child was fighting to get away from one of the women. This reaction made it less plausible that the child belonged to her.
I'm always up for donating to the less fortunate. It's how I was raised--both by my southeast asian parents and by my teachers and mentors in "the south." I've grown a bit weary though, especially after seeing a TV documentary on panhandlers while I was in school at Ball State. One particular beggar was interviewed on the streets of Indiana and he claimed he made $50K a year just asking for money on the streets. At the end of his interview he hopped into a car much nicer than mine. I'm not sure how reputable the source is but it sure has put a sour taste in my mouth...
I met Andréa's sister for the first time today. She's 16 years older so she's normally off doing her own thing. She's the product of Joelle's first marriage--there's a lot of that in France nowadays. Candide is super nice and super beautiful in an age-appropriate sort of manner. She also speaks some english and that always makes me feel more comfortable when meeting strangers.
Albert, Andrea's step-father got the karaoke machine going after lunch. The microphones weren't working and he was intensely working on the issue like any normal engineer would. Even after we said we'd sing without the microphones he would just not let the problem go. He HAD to find the solution...I think we're kindred souls he and I because I'm exactly the same when it comes to technology. I picked up the owner's manual and took a gander inside. Albert never looks at the manual. Surprisingly there were instructions in english and I asked all of the appropriate questions before I found a probable solution. I had gotten up to show Albert the connection diagram when he kind of pushed me aside and said "No, no, ça va" and everyone sitting at the table said that he had just thought of the solution. It kind of offended me at first because I wanted to contribute but I understood because like I said before, I'm just like him and I never want any help.
Albert finally got the microphones working about 20 minutes later after we had already started singing. Joelle and Candide sing wonderfully and I felt a bit intimidated even though I have had over 15 years of formal training. I kind of stopped enjoying singing after dating a guy who was a music snob. I've only just begun to enjoy it again but it's difficult to fully take pleasure in music with my host family. The kids are always singing over me off-key, making up words because they don't try to learn the lyrics, and changing the station to something more overplayed. It was nearly impossible before but I've made it a new rule in my car that no one is allowed to touch the dial without my permission. They've listened, so far.
The family and I sang karaoke for about 3 hours, maybe more. I got somewhat bored half-way through because I didn't know any of the french songs. I tried to at least act like I was entertained because everyone else was having a super time.
We eventually parted ways though and Andréa and I headed back to his apartment just a few minutes away. At one of the stoplights, there was a man stopping at everyone's windows and begging. I hadn't given out any money to panhandler's since my first month in France so I thought it was a good time to start again. If any of you read that post, you know that I basically gave all the cash I came to France with because I didn't have to use the money on anything else. I looked through my wallet to find some coin pieces for the man. I didn't find any 1 or 2 euro coins but I found what looked like a 5 euro bill to me. I pulled it out and handed it to the man quickly because the light had turned green. The man's eyes lit up, he said "merci beaucoup!" and we took off. I turned to Andréa who had his mouth wide-open..."VINGT EUROS?!?!?!?" I didn't answer and thought to myself and came to the conclusion that he was probably right, it WAS 20 euros! The 5 euro bill and the 20 euro bill are basically the same color but I was sure Andréa was right. I knew what change I had gotten from the bar Thursday night --the last time I had used my cash, and a 5 was not a part of that. Oh well...There's my cap for the month. Besides, Andréa had said he had never seen that man begging before and those are roads that he frequents often. The man was standing in freezing weather and going window to window so he probably actually needed the help. That's what I hope for anyway.
On the other side of the "impoverished," there are the gypsies that stand at every stop light. I try to avoid stopping at these lights if possible because I know that I will not be able to say no. After today though, I don't think I will ever give money to a Romani ever again. Andréa says that he always sees the same women at the same street lights with different children. It could be that these women have several children of the same age group, but unlikely. According to Andréa, they carry the children around to make you feel sorry for them. He made me observe today while we were driving around and the child was fighting to get away from one of the women. This reaction made it less plausible that the child belonged to her.
I'm always up for donating to the less fortunate. It's how I was raised--both by my southeast asian parents and by my teachers and mentors in "the south." I've grown a bit weary though, especially after seeing a TV documentary on panhandlers while I was in school at Ball State. One particular beggar was interviewed on the streets of Indiana and he claimed he made $50K a year just asking for money on the streets. At the end of his interview he hopped into a car much nicer than mine. I'm not sure how reputable the source is but it sure has put a sour taste in my mouth...
OMMMG I was JUUUUST talking about that documentary the other day with V when we were driving home! Hilarious because I always think of you and the Burrow when I see beggars on the side of the road and always, ALWAYS think of that documentary!! Hilarious
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