Euros Ate My Dollars

Ben and I often discuss which city on our itinerary we would most like to actually live in. For me, Aix-en-Provence tops the list. It’s got a quintessential small university town appeal without losing any big city amenities. It’s walkable, beautiful, and lively.

But the best part about our week in Aix was couch surfing. What is “couch surfing,” you ask? Couchsurfing.com is an online project that connects travelers around the world with locals willing to host them. Basically, you show up at a stranger’s house and that person is cool enough to give you a free place to stay and show you around town. We were aware of couch surfing prior to our trip, but have been wary of it: is it weird? is it safe?

After randomly giving it a whirl in Aix, I can officially say that couch surfing is DA BOMB and will change the way I travel. We were lucky enough to connect with two gracious hosts in Aix: the first half of the week we stayed with Simon (said Seemone) and Chloe, a young couple living on the outskirts of Aix. Simon, a lighting technician and avid French punk rocker, and Chloe, a student of acupuncture and Chinese medicine, gave us a room, introduced us to their friends and shared their knowledge of regional beers. The second half of the week was spent with Jean and Laurence, nuclear engineers in Aix, and their two daughters. Their family served us traditional French homecooked cuisine, showed us an amazing variety of French cheeses, and (unsuccesfully) attempted to teach Ben proper French pronunciation skills.

The best part about CS is that it’s like instantly having a local friend. You can experience the culture and place in a way that would be impossible otherwise. To illustrate my point, I present:

Five Awesome Things We Learned Thanks to Couch Surfing in Aix:

1. The French know more about the Civil War than I do. When Chloe and Simon asked about Richmond’s tourist appeal, we were like, “uhh… we have Civil War statues?” At first they were confused. Then they were like, oh, of course, you mean the guerre de succession. Since the only thing I remember learning about France in school is “liberte, egalite, fraternite” (and I barely remember what that means), I was surprised that Chloe and Simon seemed so familiar with American history. We were even more surprised when they asked if we had a statue of General Lee. Then Simon broke out the source of their knowledge: a popular comic book series about the U.S. Civil War. We were unable to read the comic, but enjoyed the French artistic depicition of Confederate soldiers.
2. My leg has ants! Do you know what that means? It means your leg has fallen asleep. It also means that you speak French. We learned this little translation factoid thanks to Jean, who was able to understand my “uh, what do you call it when your leg gets all, like, tingly?” question and answer it with, “oh yes, we call that having ants.”
3. Provence is now known in my book as having the best Christmas tradition EVER: they eat THIRTEEN DESSERTS after their Christmas dinner. Granted, they are typically small desserts like figs and nougat. This is a custom I can really get behind and I’m trying to figure out a way to bring this Provencial tradition to the American South by talking my grandma into cooking thirteen varieties of pie next year. Even better, in order to have good luck during the new year, you must sample every dessert. It’s obligatory and guilt free! As luck would have it, the thirteen desserts festival was going on during our Aix visit. Ben and I ran around the festival’s tent, slyly sampling the various fares without actually purchasing anything.
4. We were hanging out with Simon and some of his friends at a local pub when Simon pointed at me. “You finished your beer first. You must buy everyone at the table a drink.”

   I laughed as though he were kidding, until I realized everyone was staring at me expectantly. “Oh, you’re serious??” I said.

   “Yes,” Simon replied. “These are the rules. I’ll have a Leffe.”

   “Okay, I guess I’ll get this round,” I replied, a bit confused and a tad put out. Soon I discovered this is just the French way: you never, ever split the bill. Instead, everyone takes turns buying rounds. I noted that if the whoever-finishes-first-has-to-buy rule made its way to America, no one would EVER finish a beer.

5. At 5:00 in the morning at an all-night cafe in Aix, a friend of Simon’s was trying to describe to me the various words the French have for love. French really is the language of love. She was struggling simply to define the various words using the limiting vocabulary of English. For instance, the French have different words to define various levels of platonic love. They also have different words for love itself — saying “I love chocolate” is a little bit different than saying “I love you,” isn’t it? While that difference is not reflected in English, there are different words for a love of chocolate and love of a person in French. That makes saying “je t’aime” to someone a really big deal.

 
Unfortunately, while we have many pictures to upload, the only internet cafe open in Prague on Christmas Eve is slow as molasses and I have to get busy eating dozens of Czech Christmas cookies. I imagine that no one is reading this anyway, as you’re probably busy eating holiday feasts and opening presents and visiting family. At least, I hope you are. It’s difficult to miss the holidays at home. Both Ben and I miss everyone so much. Much love to all our family and friends from Prague! Merry Christmas Eve!

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