We're not in Plymouth Rock, Massachusetts anymore

Back after several days of sickness which required a trip to the doctor. With a few days of antibiotics in me, I'm feeling much better.

This week we had two Thanksgiving celebrations. Our new, American friends, I'll call them the JP's, had us over for a very traditional, low key dinner Thursday evening. The JP's had the same job Phil has now, but after their tour here ended three years ago, they decided to stay in France. Mr. JP now flies helicopters for the super rich, instead of the Navy. They have twin girls Zachary's age, so our meal there was super comfortable and we were welcomed like family.

The JP's

On Friday night, we were invited to a Thanksgiving dinner hosted by the France Etats-Unis organisation. France Etats-Unis is a group made up of mostly French citizens and a few Americans living in France. The group is dedicated to fostering relationships between the two countries--and a place where the French can practice speaking English.

The event was dressy-Phil was wearing his dress blue uniform. And since I have been living out of the same suitcase since Sept 12th, I didn't have any appropriate dress to wear. It should have been a fun excuse to splurge on a new dress, but I was so sick, I couldn't even make it to the mall until the day of the event. With one hour to find something in a fashion culture as foreign to me as the language, I was stressed out and panicking. I was nearly in tears several times. But Cinderella did finally find a dress (something I probably wouldn't have bought, if I had more time), and shoes...and we made it home in time to get ready.

Once the drama of the wardrobe was over, I was able to enjoy the night out alone with Phil (we had our first babysitter since we've been here). The JP's were also at this event with us, along with another American Navy family (ANf) who we'd met a couple of times. So we did know four other people there. Before the meal the MC of the night briefly introduced all of us Americans and explained the meaning of Thanksgiving. All of this was in French, so I don't know exactly what was said, but I'm sure it was good. Everyone had assigned seats, and as JP had warned me, all the Americans were split up, because "we are kind of the entertainment".


Phil and I had a wonderful table and met a couple who we hope to meet again. They both spoke perfect English--she was French and he was American. She teaches English to middle schoolers and he teaches English at the college level. The average age of the people in room was probably seventy-five, so it was a true blessing to be sitting by these people who could answer so many of my questions about Lily and schools.

But the night was just too funny for words though in a lot of ways...like they were so proud of the decorations...

Here you will see a covered wagon with a fake fire and a sign that says, "Welcome to Texas". Before the dinner started our little group of Americans was trying to hold it together as we all took pictures in front of the scene. We definitely didn't want to offend, but it wasn't your typical Thanksgiving set up. Also instead of the tables having numbers for the seating chart, the tables were named after classic, American actors from Westerns...like John Wayne, etc. But I'm sure they have great Thanksgivings in Texas, so I get it!

All Americans are cowboys at Thanksgiving time

Yes, we did have turkey, but it wasn't normal turkey. I think it was some sort of turkey roll or turkey breast. It was edible, but the baby corn from a can was not! Did your Thanksgiving meal have a cheese course, because ours did. And I'm pretty sure the Pilgrims didn't have Roquefort.

Also funny was the rush to the dance floor after the meal was served. There was a live singer, who enjoyed meandering through the dancers with her roaming mic. She would occasionally shove her mic in someones face and they would sing the next line for her. Phil's favorite was the French version of 'Bad, Bad, Leroy Brown.' Again, keep in mind this was an older crowd, and they were shakin' their stuff and singing along very proudly. I guess the French think Americans typically don't dance, and we didn't do anything to prove them wrong. For my first night on the town in France, my ego wasn't quite ready to break into the dancing scene. So, Phil and I sat there smiling and confirmed their ideas that Americans are too self-conscious to dance. I just didn't want the roaming mic singing lady to call me out or anything.

At eleven thirty Phil and I made our exit. Dinner had been over for an hour or so, the dancing was picking up, and people were gasping that we were going to leave before dessert. I'm pretty sure the party went on into the night. We were just too tired, and too American to stay. But we left thankful for a good night out, thankful for some potential new friends...and thankful for a few laughs on the way home.