We live in Capbreton and not Hossegor

Finally, we have a permanent address -- we moved in at the end of April. After spending a couple of weeks looking around, it became clear that it would not be easy to find a long-term rental in Hossegor. We did find a reasonably attractive two-bedroom apartment in Capbreton, which is just south of Hossegor. Although it is small and has 1960's wallpaper, it really is the perfect place for us to stay and to set down our roots. Our cat, Kona, will be able to go out and play. She's already caught one bird, that we were able to rescue apparently uninjured. Our place is quite near to shopping and downtown, but on a quiet street -- a good place to stabilize. For the first time since we got here, we feel like we can relax and just live in France.

After moving to Capbreton out of semi-desperation, it has become clear that it was a wise choice. Capbreton is much more of a town, and has more year round residents. Hossegor is really just a collection of nice houses with some surf shops and restaurants. For any kind of real life, Capbreton will be better. And, they're literally two minutes apart, so we're not really giving up anything.

Side note. All my life I've (Andrew) had a somewhat negative view of landlords. It's easy to make jokes about them -- I think even Shakespeare did it. But, now I have learned that they fulfill a vital and worthwhile purpose in life. Our landlord is very friendly and is very patient with our basic ability to speak French. One thing that stands out is when he was asking for a dustpan and it took us a while to look up the word in the dictionary before we finally figured it out. I (Gia), felt like I was in a three stooges skit, as I often do with speaking French! Without landlords, there would be no rental property. Without rental property, people who can't buy a house would be homeless. Vive les Landlords!

People are friendly here -- I bumped into a 50-yr-old guy in the supermarket, and he turned around and smiled at me! Wouldn't have happened in Cannes... And, our realtor was so cheerful that frankly I got a little suspicious every time I talked to her. And its not the kind of artificial realtorish cheerful I've seen so much before -- just a relaxed, there's nothing to worry about feeling. I'm looking forward to living here long enough that I take good humor for granted and don't assume I'm being rooked somehow...

It's quite calm here right now. It will keep getting busier and busier through the end of the summer and then get calm again. Lots of people here speak Spanish, since we're so close to the border. And, many speak French with a Spanish accent. It sounds just like Spanish, and it's completely impossible to understand. For those of you who have led sheltered lives (like Andrew but not like Gia), a Spanish accent is not even remotely like a Mexican accent.

One of our neighbors is Spanish. She was talking to me (Gia) in French and I did not understand what she was saying in French. She said it in Spanish and I understood. My undergraduate work in teaching Spanish payed off!

Money and Business

At times, things have gotten a little desperate. After having moved four times in the past year, I (Andrew) now realize that moving is very disruptive. No matter how I try to keep things going, moving destroys my ability to concentrate on my business. Each time we've been settled a little, things have picked up dramatically. Each time we've moved, all the work has dried up. Now that we've lived here for almost a month, things are really picking up rapidly, and I don't expect any more problems.

We haven't had health insurance for the past 6 months, because we are required by law to have French national insurance, which is based on 6% of your income of 18 months previous -- for us, since that was my most prosperous time, it works out to $1500 for three months, which I definitely don't have extra right now. This week we are going to meet with the social service people in Capbreton to see if there's a way to get health insurance legally.

Fear

I (Andrew) have to say that this is by far the scariest thing I've ever done. I wake up at night and I'm just terrified (sometimes). But, it's less and less. To live in a country where I only know a couple of people is a big detachment! I wake up at 2 a.m. and I feel like I'm the only person in the world sometimes.

I told an English friend here about how scary it's been, and she said that's why people don't follow their dreams -- fear. And it's true, it's been scary, but it's worth it. I feel really good about being here. It's a place where people just seem friendly and normal, as if we came out of a scary movie into regular life.

This trip has definitely been the biggest learning experience of my life -- sort of like a giant ropes course or something. One way you could describe our trip is that in Boulder I had pretty much made myself a successful life, in which few of my illusions about myself were being challenged. Here, any illusions I have are being systematically demolished, and I am in a sense growing up in ways I never had to before.

France vs. Boulder

We appreciate the community of Boulder more in retrospect -- there were lots of people involved in personal growth, organic food was easily available, and there was a very high level of environmental awareness. Here, and probably in most places, that's just not true. When we were so surrounded by it, we really took it for granted.

Leslie Varela & Co.

We have made friends with a local American woman (see slide show), named Leslie Varela, who's approximately Gia's age. She's an artist from Pennsylvania, who's lived here for about seven years. She, along with her four children and French boyfriend, have been our best friends here. Gia has taken a few day trips with her -- within only a day of meeting her, Gia was off to Lourdes with her, her visiting mom Catherine, and 4 kids. Gia was dipped into the healing waters there, and did actually feel healed. The water was quite cold.

I (Gia) had an amazing experience at Lourdes, France, the place where originally a woman saw the Virgin Mary appear many times with messages of a spring, where there was not one before, and said that the waters would heal people. Since then there have occured many a miracle. When I went there was church music playing outside the entrance to the springs, with many people praying, waiting in wheelchairs, nuns hustling around to help people to prepare to be dipped in the waters. When I got inside, nuns helped me get undressed and made sure that my robe did not slip and show any of my nakedness. Once in the room with the springs the nuns took off my robe and wrapped me in a cloth and literally dipped me into freezing water. I asked to be healed of all fear. Afterwards, the nuns helped me to discreetely get dressed. One nun would not let me leave until I had all buttons buttoned on my jacket! Afterwards, and now, I have felt more free and lighter of spirit. I don't feel as afraid anymore.

Leslie and Rafi, her partner (short for Rafael) have bought an abandoned truck stop in a small country town near here. They are going to make it into a art center, and also to raise goats and chickens. We've helped them shop for goats, and also to install a large fence for the goat-part of the truck stop. It's in an amazingly beautiful location, and about half is completely natural, and half is solid concrete in the process of being turned into beautiful gardens.

What a blessing to have met such wonderful people!

Boulder Friends

Our friends in Boulder sent us a wonderful care package, with American magazines, Junior Mints, Peppermint Patties, refried beans (unheard of here), some dirt from Colorado, and assorted other goodies. We'd like to thank you again -- it was just great to receive it! The Junior Mints lasted about three days. One difficulty living here has been eating well. Since all the foods that we buy by habit aren't as easily available, we either have to devote 5 times more effort to shopping or we just eat on the plain side.

Election of Miss Fete de la Mer

We saw signs for an event called "Election de Miss Fete de la Mer", scheduled for 4:00 last Thursday. We went downtown to watch it. We got great seats on some concrete boxes that block off the town square, and then we waited, with a small crowd, for about an hour and a half. Finally, a tiny old man came out and announced something over the P.A. system which was completely inaudible, because he had neglected to turn off the dance music that was blasting away. Coincidentally, right when the contest started, they played a country and western song called "I've gotta get home to Massachussetts." It was more than a little surreal.

Finally, a band of horns came out and played a strange song. They were really horrible, and they stood right in front of us, so the good seats we'd saved for an hour and half were useless. Then, the contest started. It took about three minutes -- there were only two contestants. They came out and walked in a big U shape, wearing normal street cloths, the judges decided who won and who was runner up, and it was over. Well. Probably it wasn't worth writing all these words about, but it was definitely an experience of some kind...it felt like a holdover from a previous era, in its last dying days.

Bonnat Museum

In Bayonne, a city just south of here, there is a really formidable art museum, dedicated to Leon Bonnat, a local boy who made good. We loved the museum because they really emphasize the old great masters, and don't go in for all the modern conceptual art -- you can feel the tremendous level of skill and talent in each piece. It was quite inspiring.

Pillboxes

The beaches up and down the coast here (might have mentioned this previously) are littered with giant German bunkers left over from World War II. If you saw Saving Private Ryan, they're the same ones that were at the top of the beach in the opening scenes. They're massively strong -- all reinforced concrete. Obviously they were made to withstand demolition! So they're all over the coast, and can't be removed for any reasonable cost. They lend a strange air to the beaches -- a sadness and a sense of history. Now, they're tilting as the sand erodes, and there's graffiti on most of them. We'll put pictures up soon.

Miscellaneous Notes:

You may not know that French reporters have completely infiltrated the U.S. They are present at every major event, observing and commentating in French from secret hotel rooftops. They call the president "Zhorzh Deeblavay Beesh."

"Who wants to be a Millionaire?" is very popular here. However, a million francs is not quite as attractive as a million dollars (it's worth about $143,000), so it is called "Who wants to win the millions?" and tops out at about 4,000,000 francs. There is also a Spanish version (we get several Spanish TV stations). It's worse for them. A Spanish millionaire can barely afford a decent used car (1,000,000 pesetas is worth about $5300). Of course, it will all change when the Euro becomes standard next fall.

Almost every week there are one or two days which are holidays. And, there are two hour lunches every day. And, the shops are closed (often, but not always) when it's not regular business hours. And, Monday is not considered a real working day. Not mention all the strikes. All of this adds up to an environment in which it is quite possible to get the impression that putting in long hours at work is not a high priority. We have to be careful not to make plans that depend on shopping!

It's hard to explain why it is amusing to us, but all the normal acronyms are different here. For some reason, we expected that acronyms were universal. The most surprising one so far is that UFO's, which have become such a large part of American culture, are called OVNI's (objets volants non-identifies).

You know you moved into the right house when the 70 pound wooden box of tools which you've been lugging all over France slides into a space under the fireplace with 1/2 inch of space above and on each side, and there's just enough room for the extra car parts behind it.

It becomes even more of a sure thing when you can't afford a replacement windshield wiper and find the exact model you need, still sealed in a plastic box, down the street from your house (especially when you have an Audi with an abnormally large windshield).

In France, kids can legally drive scooters and mopeds, but not cars. It's quite difficult to get a driving license. So, there's a whole culture of highly-tuned scooters and mopeds as a result. That's why all the noisy 2-stroke engines ratcheting around creating pollution...

To all the people with whom we are behind in our correspondence -- we think of you constantly. We've been living in such turmoil that we've seldom felt sane enough to call someone and talk any sense!

Love to you all,

Andrew and Gia.