Lost Veggies

Normandy, France. This little town looks just like you would imagine an old country-side French town would. I thought towns like this only existed in the movies. Nope. I’m living in one. It’s absolutely adorable. Life has slowed down immensely the past few days…sort of. We still are out and about all day, but the evenings are filled with moonlight walks on the beach, cozy study nights in the living room, and laughter over a family-style, home-made, real French dinner cooked by one of our hostesses. I feel at home here. I feel comfortable.

Over the past few days our tour guide, Steve, has given us some cultural lessons about France. He’s taught us all about the proper use of the word “Bonjour” and the do’s and don’t’s when getting a coffee at a café.  I embrace it. I love learning about new cultures. I have no problem putting aside my social norms to meet those of this new country. I only wish I had known a few of them earlier on in the trip! I encourage others to be open to things that are different. It’s good to be thrown off your axis every now and then. Promise.

The one thing that’s been a struggle for me, though, is the food. Every meal is meat. Not meat sandwiches, side dishes and a main dish with meat….it’s meat. A big hunk of meat. I’ve only been a vegetarian for less than a year, but I quickly became accustom to loving this lifestyle. Not only do I not crave meat, but the smell and look of it has actually begun to disgust me. I told myself that I would try meat in Europe because most of the meat here isn’t mass produced like it is in the states. Here, it’s grass fed, free range, and served farm to table – everything we Americans pay extra for to get good meat comes standard here. But alas, I have been unable to consume meat. Ok, I admit, one night in Portugal I had some chicken because I was in desperate need of protein, but besides that, I just haven’t been able to get myself to eat the pork, beef, chicken, and turkey served at every meal. So what’s left? Fries, bread, and pasta. Joy. I’m getting a little overwhelmed by it all. I’m quite health conscious at home and the mounds of butter, carbs, and sweets that are all around me is a little much. What I wouldn’t give for fresh, raw veggies and some tofu!

Truth be told, the food here is a challenge, but I’m reminded of my newfound love for embracing culture. I’ve learned to drink coffee out of a bowl, eat salad after the meal, and ask for whatever is on the menu…as it is, no substitutes and no changes. If I can change my language and social norms, I can learn to appreciate the food here. So I’ve set out on a journey of appreciation for food and grace for myself. I’ve learned to enjoy the yummy desserts, the bread, the cheese and not feel too guilty for eating them because we walk miles a day. I have yet to embrace the meat, but maybe that will come. Until then, I’m enjoying new culture…carbs and all.

Here are some pictures from our last two days in the Normandy area!

Two days ago we walked to the top of Mout St Michel. You should read about this place. It's amazing: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mont_Saint-Michel 

Checking out how much further we have to go...

Walk. Walk. Walk.

View from half way there.

We made it! Now we're ready for the tour with our classy audio-guides and all!

My friend John has a picture like this in his apartment, so I wanted to see if I could recreate it. How'd I do, John?

Girl pose!

Resting.

Photoshoot time!

The flowers were so pretty!

It wasn't that bad. I even had energy after!

And Melissa had about 100x more energy than me...and years of dance, so her jump is much more graceful than mine. She was fun to photograph. 

I got a little dirty in the beach sand. 

Friends!

This morning we walked around the town we're staying in. We discovered freshly baked quiche and eclairs.

Then we drove to Bayeux, France. This place looked like a storybook.

It was cold. 

Too pretty for words. 

Then we went to Caen, France to learn more about the 100 years war. 

We went in search for sugar and coffee to keep us warm after our history lesson. I found the most amazing and HUGE macaroons (French macaroons are nothing like the coconut ones in the States. They are meringue with cream in the middle.)

I thought this was the coolest shot! Love the lights. 

We found a hippie store and a girly-girl store. I called this the Lauren store and Hayley (my girly, pinky-loving sister) store. 

Religion – a dirty word.

I debated posting this blog at all, for fear of offending someone, but I decided to do it anyway. After all, this is a blog about renewal and faith is a big part of my renewal process.  Yesterday was a full day of sightseeing in Paris. We went to Versailles in the morning, walked the Avenue des Champs-Élysées, climbed the staircase of the Arc de Triomphe, and then ended the night in the home of Joy and Stephen, two American missionaries who have lived in Paris for over 25 years.  If you were to take the beginning of the day and compare it to the end of the day you would never know that the two were rooted in the same faith. Versailles is the epitome of what it means to use a religion for the wrong reasons. King Louis XVI built Versailles out of jealousy because he wanted a bigger palace while his people starved. And he called himself a man of God. People have fought and died over religion. Horrible, horrible massacres have occurred in the name of a belief. It’s just awful. 

And then there’s Joy and Stephen. This couple opened their home for us last night. They shared food and wine. They shared their story. This couple wanted to find a way to share God’s love….a pure, authentic, unconditional, un-massacres-ing love. No tricks. No hidden agenda. No bible hand-outs. No bull-horn. Just love. Just service. They’ve opened their home for believers, they’ve held business conferences for the mainstream without ever mentioning Christianity, they’ve given to the poor, the orphaned, the hungry without giving a lecture about faith. This is the kind of evangelism I believe in. I didn’t grow up believing in God. I was around the idea and toyed with it a bit, but didn’t come to accept it as truth until about two years ago.  Since then I’ve come to know a God that isn’t judgmental and selfish, but kind, gracious, giving, and loving.  And this is how I want to live my life. I want to be like Joy and Stephen. I want to live unselfishly. I want to rid myself of materialism. I want to give my time.  I want to live like the one person who did this perfectly…Jesus. I will fail. I will have selfish moments, but I won’t stop trying. This is the religion I believe in. This is the God I believe in. And I’m pretty sure that’s how Christianity is intended to be. Humans just messed it up from time to time. We tend to do that a lot in life. Anywho…I wanted to share some of the photos from Versailles, because it truly is beautiful. But it was more than material beauty. It was a reminder of everything I don't want to be. 

After Versailles, we walked to our next stop...

Yep! Champs Elysees.

Then the Acr de Triomphe

I made it up all (roughly) 300 stairs!

On the Metro

Fries taste better with a fork.

We arrived in Paris yesterday morning (11:00am Paris time)and since then I haven’t stopped smiling. “I’M IN PARIS”, I kept saying…no squealing…out loud. Sigh. I think my classmates and professors were getting a little annoyed of my excitement, but I didn’t care. I’m in Paris! What is it about Paris the just makes my heart go pitter-patter? So many things.

Cities. I love cities. I love the hustle and bustle. I love the people. I love that it feels alive. Yes, I’m a small town girl who loves her trees, mountains, and quiet, cool, fresh air, but I love the city…oh how I love it so! As you’ve read in my previous blog posts (or maybe you haven’t), I really enjoy, no….NEED, my alone time. In a city, there are so many people that you can sort of blend in with the crowd. Get lost. Be alone amongst the masses. I’m sure if I lived here, I would probably get pretty overwhelmed and annoyed with it, but right now, I’m in love. I’ve enjoyed every Metro ride, every mile walked, every “Bonjour”, every passer-by, every people-watching, every encounter, everything. Amidst the chaos, I’m able to be alone and to breathe.

Romance. Another reason to love Paris. Love is everywhere. Couples walking hand-in-hand, romantic tables for two set at the café, beautiful lights ignite the city as if fireflies have filled the night sky.   No matter where you are in the city, you can stop, look around, and feel the love.  Ascheesy as that sounds, it’s true. I may not be in love while I’m here, but Idefinitely can appreciate how wonderful and special love really is. I endorseit. I encourage it. As my friend Emily always says, “I love love”.

Independence. Even though we’re in a big group setting and have been lead by a tour guide, I got a glimpse of so much independence today once we were released to tour the Lourve on our own. I’m an extremely independent person. I was an only child for 8 years, I moved away for college immediately after high school, I’ve lived on my own and loved it, I’d like to think I’m fairly “street smart”, I figure things out pretty easily, I learn quickly, I watch others and learn from them, I’m aware, I’m 100% fine being alone, I often get annoyed when others want to follow, because I don’t like feeling like I can’t do what I want…do you see what I mean? I’m independent. Very independent. Before leaving for Europe, I lost a bit of my independence. I was forced to rely on a lot of people during my knee surgery and I don’t think I ever fully regained “being on my own” after that. I found myself only doing what others wanted to do, following the crowd, and being lost in my way because I wasn’t taking time to do things just for me. There are even a handful of times I can remember apologizing for my likes and dislikes and trying to conform to the opinions and styles of my friends. And now I’m here in this busy, beautiful city and am noticing that men and women of all ages are so independent. They walk on and off the Metro with so much confidence and character. They forge the streets with passion. And they look so happy doing it. I want some of that independence breathed back into me. I used to be that girl. And during the last 1.5 days it’s like osmosis reaction has happened. Evenwhile having to stay in groups and follow the guides, my independent personality has started to come back. I get on that Metro with confidence just like the French, I walk down the street with passion, and I’m happy doing it. Not only am I happy doing it, but I would be happy doing it alone. It’s ok to ask for help, in fact, sometimes it’s necessary. It’s great to lean on a friend, in fact, sometimes it’s necessary. It’s great to want a companion (oreven a relationship), in fact, sometimes it’s necessary. But it’s so comforting to know that I am ok on my own. And thanks to this city, I’ve been reminded of the strong, confident, independent girl I used to be.

Fries. The French eat fries with a fork. What's not to love about that!?

Here’s a little snapshot of the highlights we’ve seen. Wesaw so so SO much more, but there were my favorites.

BTW…my main goal while in Paris was to be mistaken as French (because I’m obsessed with Paris fashion and was hoping I dressed the part).Anywho…tonight…it happened. Twice. Once at the restaurant for dinner. I said a few things in French to the waitress and she handed me a French menu. I askedfor an English one and she said, “sorry, I thought you spoke French”. Second, I wason the metro going back to the hotel and this guy sat next to me and Alicen and started speaking to me in French. I looked at him blankly and he said, “oh sorry, I guess you don’t speak French”. My wish came true. Ok so maybe they just thought I was an American who knew french, but still, they questioned it for a second

Art walk!

My first glimpse of the Eiffel Tower!

REALLY seeing the Eiffel Tower

At a colosseum 

Norte Dame

Waiting for the Metro

The Mona Lisa!

Sight seeing!

Ciao Portugal!

Final thoughts about Portugal…

It's 6:26am in Portugal (10:26pm in California) and I'm sitting in the airport waiting to board my plane to Paris. I’ve had a great time in this little country and wanted to leave with a few closing thoughts. 

Simplicity.

Portugal is all about simplicity, which is something I strive for in my life. I don’t always succeed, because it’s so easy to think I need one more piece of clothing, one more electronic device, one more thing. But I don’t. And the Portuguese have figured this out. They cherish three F’s…Fado, Fatima and Futbol.  I think they should add two more F’s to that list…food and family, because I can definitely see how those two things, along with the official “three F’s of Portugal” are by far the most important things to these people. Everything else comes secondary.

Fado: Fate. Just accept life and move on. No need to dwell in the past or get angry when life doesn't go your way. I don’t necessarily believe in fate, but I do believe in letting go and moving on. This has been a great lesson for me while I’ve been here.

At the Fado performance we attended.

Fatima: the place where the Virgin Mary performed three miracles. Faith. It’s part of their history and culture. Roots are strong here. I love listening to our hosts about their great, great, great, great someone who did something. Everyone here knows who they are and where they came from. They take great pride in their faith and culture. I love it.

 One of the most beautiful stain glass windows from the Monastery 

Futbol: well, soccer. It’s everything to the Portuguese. And not like the Charges are to San Diego. The Portuguese eat, breathe, and live for Futbol.  Like I said before., life if simple here. They don’t spend time watching hours of reality TV. The Portuguese work, cook, and watch futbol. It's part of history and culture. It's more than just a game. 

Food: Oh the food! It’s quite delicious, but again….life if simple here. There’s no “have it your way” here. What’s on the menu is on the menu. No, “can I have a side of that” or, “can I get this without that”, or “I just want this and not that other stuff that comes with it”. You typically have 3 choices…pork, beef, or fish. It always comes with a side of French fries, boiled potatoes, and rice. Their salads are simple: greens, tomato, onion, and a vinegar/olive oil dressing. Oh, and fresh bread is always served on the table. It took a while to get used to this, but now I’m learning to appreciate the simplicity of the menus. When you think about it, meat here isn’t mass produced like in the states. It’s raised on a local farm. The farmer took great care to butcher and sell the best cuts of meat. The restaurant spent time that morning picking out the best of the best. When you go to their restaurant, you don’t ask for the cut of meant you want. You ask for a steak. And that steak is the best darn thing the restaurant has to offer you that day. And you accept. Ok, so I haven’t actually had any of the meat here (well, a little secret for you...I ate chicken for the first time in a year last night. I needed protein. It was delicious, and I ate it in good conscious because it went from farm to table)…but the fish is delicious and it’s the same concept. Cod fish is the only thing served. It’s made the same way. It’s simple. And it’s good.

Before and After my authentic fish dinner!

Family: Your family name is your connection to Portugal. Everyone here has 6-8 names. They are family names, they are meaningful names. They weren’t found out of a name book. There is so much pride in what part of Portugal you’re from and your family name. It makes me wish I knew more my family roots to Portugal. I know I’m part Portuguese on my dad’s side, but other than  the name “Fontes”, I know nothing more about my Portuguese roots.

So there you have it. Fado, Fatima, Futbol, Food, and Family. Politics, the economy, and the goings-on in the media aren’t important here. It’s so refreshing to be around a deep, meaningful, yet simple culture…away from the hustle and bustle of a big city, away from the pressure of needing to look a certain way to fit in, away from anything but what’s important. 

Ciao Portugal! Until we meet again...

I've been posting blogs left and right in the last 2 days because there's been so much to share. Check my later posts in case you missed one!

I sang today.

It seems simple, but singing brings me so much joy. I didn’t realize what an affect it had on me until I stopped doing it for a week. I’ve been around people 24/7 and have been on the go, so I just haven’t been around music to sing. I share a room and am usually rushed in the morning, so I haven’t been getting my daily dose of morning tunes and we always talk in the car instead of turning on the radio, so I haven't heard music there either. But I hadn’t really noticed that music wasn’t in my life this past week….until one of the other students, Shannon, asked me about my favorite worship music. We sat in the back of our 9-passenger van and swapped our favorite worship songs. I put the phone up to my ear and listened to a song I’ve never heard and then it hit me. I haven’t heard music (well, besides Fado) in a week. I just closed my eyes and immediately a calm came over me. Then the song was over and I wanted more. We got back to the Bible Institute where we’re staying and started packing for Paris tomorrow. Shannon and I (we also happen to be roommates) looked at each other and immediately knew we needed to continue our worship music session. She blasted her iTunes and we both belted out the words to out favorite songs. It was therapy. And so so needed.

This is a little personal to be sharing on a blog, but I’m going to do it anyway. These last few days I had been feeling a little…off. Days 1-4 of the trip were amazing, but I found myself getting quitter, falling back into the crowd, and just going through the motions. I came to Europe with a lot on my mind. I knew this time would be a time of great thought and healing…hence the name for my blog, “Renewed: a la Europe”. So why wasn’t I feeling renewed? I found a piece of renewal yesterday when we stopped for a picnic lunch in this cute little park 2 hours outside of Porto. I walked away from the group, took a breath, and looked up. And there it was. My favorite tree in Portugal. I had found it. If you don’t know this about me, I have a favorite tree in almost every city. I love trees. I really do. I have a favorite tree in Reedley, one in San Diego, one in New York, on the San Francisco. Everywhere I go, I look for THE TREE…the one that’s going to inspire me or just make me feel good inside, then I take a minute, I lay down under it, and I just watch the leaves blow in the wind. I found my favorite tree in Portugal and did just that.  

So after finding my favorite tree, getting some alone time because I needed to stay in and get better, and then singing today, I finally feel a bit renewed. I’m tellin’ ya…singing is my therapy. It’s amazing how true that old cliché really is…you don’t know how much you miss something until it’s lost. Ok, so maybe that saying is meant for a person, but this time, it means a thing….singing. I do it so regularly back at home that I took for granted what it does for my soul. There’s something about hearing the music, opening my mouth, and just belting out a sound...it’s almost euphoric.

So…here’s to trees, singing, and a new adventure…Paris awaits tomorrow!

And, as promised, here’s a story in pictures, of our time visiting the Knight’s Templar (so cool) and Porto (or what little I saw of it before I turned in to heal). Oh…and for those who asked, yes, I’m feeling much much better. 10 hours of sleep, some NyQuil, and a song is just what I needed to kick that cold, or whatever it was. 

The Night's Templar

What's left of the chapel

Pretty trees...but nothing like my favorite. :)

Excited to go in and see it!

Friends!

Take a look at that courtyard! Can't you just imagine sword fights and princesses!?

A very ornate alter. 

 Notice that when you go into the next room and turn around, Jesus is the only thing you can see through the doorway. 

High and narrow staircase we climbed!

I made them do a photo shoot. 

Up on the roof! 

So pretty! 

 I thought this wall was really cool!

The women in the kitchen.  

Finally...we made it to Porto! 

 We took a tour of the Sandman Port Wine Cellar. 

Porto at night!

PS - if you didn't get a chance, take a look at my previous blog "Fate, Wine, and Surfing". I posted 2 in one day, so I thought it may have gotten lost after posting this one.