Transatlantic Testimonies: Ce nectar de la treille qui coule dans nos gosiers

When you’re in your native country, there are always familiar faces surrounding you. You have, in a cliché way, your friends, your family, the lady you avoid from your hometown that loves to gossip, your former principal, family doctor, etc…

There are some more familiar faces, however, that represent another side of American culture unknown to those who have never traveled stateside and that we as Americans take for granted. I saw some of these familiar faces when I ventured into the Anglo-Saxon grocery store “Little Britain” in Lyon, where I was able to reunite with the smiling visages of Aunt Jemima and Sam Adams and bask in the glory of Jack Daniel’s BBQ Sauce, beef jerky, cheddar cheese and Jelly Belly. It’s funny how such little capitalistic pleasures can ease the pain of homesickness away, even if it is only for the all-too-brief moment of consuming a Reese’s (which, by the way, there really is no wrong way to eat).

I’m sure that once I return to America, there will be plenty of things I miss from France (and Germany). I know one of those things will be the wonderful wine and cheese selection, which I was able to experience (not for the first time, mind you) this past Thursday during the celebration of the Beaujolais nouveau in Lyon. Beaujolais nouveau is a young wine released for the first time on the third Thursday of November of each year. At midnight on that Thursday there are always fireworks, marking the end of a countdown to the appearance of Beaujolais nouveau on store shelves and restaurant menus. The wine itself is only six weeks old, made in the Beaujolais region (south of Burgundy) in France. The French government has put regulations on when the wine can be released, which is why the countdown means so much to the Lyonnais and any wine connoisseur.

At the so-called Beaujolympiades, I and my friends Jake and Tom were able to taste wine from about a dozen wineries that came from the Beaujolais region. The wines were not exclusively the Beaujolais nouveau, although that was typically what was offered at first. I’ve often heard that the Lyonnais are considered cold and distant, which I was able to first really appreciate after talking with these farmers from a different region not all that far away from the city. They were all eager to tell you all about their wine and the region they come from, and even go into detail about the wine harvesting process.

Another typical “Lyonnais” thing I did this past week was go to a soccer game between Lyon and Reims at the Stade de Gerland this Sunday. Lyon won, and we had very good seats considering we only paid 10 euro each. I must say that I was disappointed to be sitting on the opposite side of all of the cheering, since my last European soccer experience involved a lot of yelling and a very distinct sort of cultural immersion.

I had another noteworthy experience this past week very unrelated to soccer or wine and cheese consumption but still very “French” in my mind. I somehow got “roped into” modeling beauty products for a sister company of my friend Isabelle’s company USANA. I got a free 40 minute facial, which was very nice, but not as relaxing considering I was on display for a lot of people that I couldn’t see. Maybe it was good that I had to keep my eyes closed. Not like I’m complaining or anything.

Lyon at night

Where I run everyday -- Parc de la Tête d'Or, where there's also a zoo including zebras, flamingos, crocodiles, etc...

You can call me pumpkin.

Can anyone tell me what this is? I've been seeing these almost-grapefruit-sized tennis-ball-looking things everyday for the past few months and I have no idea what they are!

Entrance to the park

Blue sky in Lyon--we're not in Germany anymore!

A few prizes from my trip to "Little Britain"-- Thanksgiving's on the horizon!

Old train station in Lyon-- Chemin de Fer literally means "Path of Iron"

Jake and Tom at the Beaujolympiades

Jake, me, and Tom at the Beaujolympiades

One vendor was very excited to learn from Jake that I live in Germany, since he had spent three years selling wine in Düsseldorf. He got a kick out of practicing his German. Jake also informed him that I speak Russian, and later he tried to get me to translate for some customers. Let's just say that I don't think these particular individuals were very happy about having a young American girl as a translator...