Tag Archives: France

Pictures from France – Lyon

Long overdue, but I just got back home and can now upload some of the many, many beautiful pictures I have of the gorgeous France.

Let’s start off with pictures with the first part of my French experience: Lyon.




The French Experience – Lourdes

We left St. Etienne and the family that welcomed us for three nights on the morning of August 10th.

We had a ten hour route to Lourdes, the infamous pilgramage sight that many Lebanese have/want to visit/ed. And with delays bound to happen, and with the French law dictating thirty minutes of rest for every two hours of driving, we got to Lourdes twelve hours later.

It was 7:30 pm and time for dinner, as set by the French. We didn´t even have time to take pictures as we ran to the huge grass field we were seated in for some fish and rice.

Soon after, we had about thirty minutes to visit before mass. Naturally, I visited the infamous cave where St. Bernadette dug to reveal a small stream of holy water. Then, with two Lebanese girls, I ran to the statue of Mary that was set as gathering point only to find no one there.

Then, we were joined by ten other Lebanese who couldn´t find the remainder of the group. And it was time for a Marial Procession around the grounds. Imagine ten thousand people of a multitude of nationalities chanting Ave Maria together, to a backdrop of an epic-looking church, and you get the sense of what Lourdes is.

Not only is it a Holy place but it´s a location where I, as non-devout Christian, and despite the looming idea of having to sleep on the floor with two hundred other French guys, in a gym, and not being able to shower, was able to find some peace.

The idea of sitting there, looking at nothing except the statue of Virgin Mary and her smiling at you – there´s just something comforting about that.

Then a French woman came up to us after seeing the flag we were holding. She told us how she visits Lebanon often and how she is mesmerized by the culture of the country. In fact, and I quote, she said the following: “I have no roots in the orient, but I love your country, Lebanon, as much as I love my country, France.”

Needless to say, I felt proud. And this sense of pride about my country – despite all our problems – will only grow as my trip moves forwards.

But back to Lourdes… even at 11 pm in the evening, the queue line to visit the Grotto was about a hundred meter long. So we had to wait for the other Lebanese who actually attended mass (yes, we got reprimanded for getting lost although it wasn´t really our fault) to visit.

And while at Lourdes, I lit a candle as a prayer for many people who asked. My cousin asked me to pray for her success in Lebanon´s second round of official exams. Micheline Hazou asked me on twitter to pray for her too and my aunt had a private wish she wanted to pass on. I did all of those in one candle. And you know what, I think my prayer was answered, at least somewhat. My cousin passed.

I guess we have to wait to see if the remaining part of my attempt at a prayer worked. But I´d like to believe it did…

And so we had a long walk back to the gym. You see, Lourdes was closed soon after 12 pm for rehearsals for a play that was shown on August 15th. After all, Spain and Toledo awaited us in a few hours…

 

The French Experience – Part 2

Soon after the Mass at Notre Dame de Fourviere, we were taken to St. Etienne where families were supposed to welcome us into their homes for our three day stay in France.

Naturally, I was quite anxious. After all, we, Lebanese, don´t exactly hear the fanciest of things about the French. Also, when the only thing you want to do is take a warm shower and sleep, it´s hard not to worry if those things would be available or not.

The family that welcomed me, with two other guys, was the Arnaud family that lived in St. Genest-Malifaux, a small picturesque town, 15 minutes away from St. Etienne.

Let me tell you this… the scene I used to wake up to every morning was so breath-taking, I used to simply stare for a few minutes at the forests mixed with green fields that extended beyond the horizon.

The Arnaud family ran a farm that extended over 40 hectares, which is a lot of land to manage. But the parents do a good job at it. Their oldest children are either working in Paris or married. Their daughter, one of the main coordinators between the Lebanese and French groups and one of the best people I met in France, lives a few minutes away and their youngest son still lives with them.

Their house was a typical French house in villages: bricks, walls made of stone, etc… They even had some sort of chimney, which, you guessed it, was turned on in August. After all, at 1300 meter of altitude and eight degrees almost all day, it sure is a necessity.

Remember my worries about being able to take a shower and sleep well? It turns out they were unfounded. Not only was the Arnaud family exemplary in their welcoming of us, but they were exactly what we – three Lebanese strangers – needed in a foreign country of which we only knew the language.

There were so welcoming in fact that they asked their son to drive us the following day to St. Etienne in order to get my French line fixed and then they took us to a museum where they refused to let us pay. There goes a stereotype about French people not being generous enough.

Also, since they run a farm, the food they make is organic and so healthy that you feel you´re eating – well, corny as it may be – health. Homemade butter, jam and bread for breakfast. Pepsi is something that is unheard of in their home. When I asked about it, the mother replied: “Why would someone want to get that in their system?”

No, dear readers who know me too well, I have not stopped drinking pepsi. Consider it one of my many flaws…

But our stay at the Arnaud household was quite awesome. They took us sightseeing whenever we had the time, and with the sun setting at 10:30 pm in France gives you lots of time. Their son also drove us to every single event the French group had set up for us.

I will never forget how the father took my suitcase, which had its zipper break down, and started sewing the part that wasn´t working anymore…

So if somehow the Arnaud family reads this (I´m not too sure since French aren´t really fond of English – yes, this stereotype is true), I just want to send them a cyber hug with a big THANK YOU 😀

The French Experience – Part 1

Let me tell you this… French weather is something.

You know it´s bad when you land in Lyon and, confident of the shorts and T-shirt you´re wearing, venture out of the facility only to find your face hit by ten degrees celsius.

Did I mention it was August 7th?

Let alone the fact that a typical Lebanese would never admit they´re cold when taken by surprise (we have this in Lebanon is the sentence we all say), I was freezing.

We met up with a French group who was more than welcoming. Imagine people you don´t know hugging you and innundating you with too many names, which at the time you thought would be impossible to remember.

We were then taken to the city of Lyon. We were supposed to vist the shrine of Notre Dame de Fourviere, which translates as Our Lady of Fourviere.

Located on a hilltop, it has the exact same statue of the Virgin Mary we have in Harissa in Lebanon, except it´s covered in a thin layer of gold, overlooking the city which it protects.

The church itself is huge. Have you ever been to a place where, despite being tired beyond measure, simply takes your breath away? That´s the church of Fourviere right there.

Pillars after pillars of marble, paintings and mosaics… the decoration inside is of epic proportions that our guide told us: “It´s very easy to get lost in the grandeur of the decor… but it´s the architecture that matters.”

Interestingly, there´s a small shrine for Harissa inside Fourviere – dedicated to Notre Dame du Liban. And based on what a good French friend of mine told me, the day the shrine was opened, the church had hundreds and hundreds of visitors attending the ceremony, something which is rare to be seen.

And then it was time for mass… now imagine the scenario: you haven´t slept in over 24 hours, you´re too tired to even open your eyes and you have to be attentive in mass because you, as a Lebanese group, are so important that you were placed in the first two rows of an overbooked cathedral.

Now imagine poor me trying every single way to sleep and make it look like I´m praying. Needless to say that I was unsuccessful. But you know what, that was one the best services I ever attended. Even though almost everything was different, I was mesmerized by how grand everything was. You had too many priests, too many readings and yet they all fit in so little time. The order of events in mass, which we´re used to as Maronites, is out of order in a Roman Catholic mass.

And then there´s the singing… there was a full-blown band called Malak performing the chants in church. And I got goosebumps when Claire sang a chant that I had never heard before: Couronnees D´etoiles.

And since we were V.I.P during mass, we were asked to chant something in Lebanese as part of the mass. So when I was leaving church, a woman stops me and asks: “Vous etes des Libanais?”

I nodded. She proceeded to say that her mother, who passed away nine years ago, was also Lebanese. And when we chanted in Lebanese, she imagined her mother standing between us and chanting with us. She hugged me in thanks and left.

I guess my first few hours in France were a success…

Off to France and Spain

I’ve never traveled before. Ever. Unless you count that brief two day trip I took to Damascus last December and the one before to Northern Syria in July.

Well, if you do, let me tell you this: if you don’t go to your destination in an plane, then you haven’t really “traveled.” At least that’s how I understand it to be.

But I digress.

In a few hours, I will be taking my very first airplane ride to Southern France where I will spend four days before heading out to Spain for a thirteen day excursion.

I’m definitely excited. But also quite anxious. It could be that I haven’t packed yet. I just look at the suitcase and decide there’s still time.

My stay in Spain will involve three cities: Toledo, Madrid and Sevilla. No Barcelona for me, sadly. But I guess there’s a time for everything. And with a Schengen on my passport, it’ll be easier to go there some other time.

While in Spain, I will be participating in the international Catholic Youth Day, formally known as JMJ: Journee Mondiale de la Jeunesse, which will be an opportunity for me to meet the pope – although I have low hopes about actually “meeting” him unless you consider spotting someone in a sea of a million people “meeting.”

While I’m definitely not the most religious of people, I think this will serve as an opportunity for me to meet lots of new people. Let me tell you a secret though, my group is going to miss out on most of the religion sessions and we’ll be going touring the cities we’re in. Awesome, right?

France should be great as well. I’m not doing the cliche France trip of going to Paris and staying there for the whole vacation, which I honestly would have loved to do – there’s just something about Paris, right? My French stay will give me an opportunity to practice my dying French skills. Yes, AUB, I blame you.

A woman in my travel group is of Argentinian origins and she was giving us Spanish lessons the other day in order to get around in Spain. Apparently the people who speak something other than Spanish are rare over there. Who would’ve thought? Needless to say, only one sentence got stuck in my head. And no, it’s not good morning or good evening.

“No habla espagnol, habla inglese?” will be my motto for the upcoming two weeks. I’m sure you can deduce what it means quite easily.

As for now, I’ll leave you and hope you come to read the posts that I’ve written and scheduled to be posted. There will be a book reviews, a short story split in seven parts, among other things… And if I get the chance to tell you how my French and Spanish adventures are going, well, why not, I guess.