Crepes

Bon soir, mes amis.

Ingrid Betancourt's release has been getting major press here in France. It's moving to observe the country rally around one of its daughters, and give her the attention and honor she deserves.

Metta (pictured in the previous post completely asleep next to me on the train) made me listen to a song at lunch today, and I almost cried into my gruyere omelette. However, things are looking brighter after tonight. We had "cooking class" at Metta's host mom's house tonight, and she taught us how to make crepes~I learned how to have two pans of crepes going at the same time! Her host mom calls us "mes filles" ("my girls"). I love being at her house, because it's really cozy and I feel comfortable enough to go barefoot in the house. She's divorced, and her kids are older teens and kind of "lead their own lives," as it were, but she loves to cook and talk with us (I think she likes having us around the house~I have to admit, we are kind of fun). She has a sixteen-year-old daughter (Marlin) who's really adorable, too. She doesn't talk much, but when you engage her in conversation, she smiles and talks a lot~we had a good conversation about shoes tonight.

We made ham and cheese crepes for dinner, and then had dessert crepes with glace (ice cream) and chocolate sauce. As Metta and I were making crepes, we needed to count them to know if we had enough crepes saveur (savory crepes), so we could add the sugar to make crepes sucree (sugar crepes). She counted, and said, "Only seven? It was seven, like, two crepes ago." You know you've been in France for a long time when you start counting in crepes.

We've finished with most of the important devoir (homework) tonight, so we're going to sleep. The bus comes early. Except when it's late.

Marguerite.