Cultural Proof
I spent a lot of time with a family from the branch, first at weekly family home evenings with the missionaries, then later they invited me to stay at their house in the countryside for a week. The family are native Poitevins; the children born there and the single mother, Brigitte, has lived there since she was young. There are two girls, Marion (26 years old) and Nadège (29). They also have a brother, Eddie, who lives just outside of Poitiers centre, and who visits from time to time. During the week I stayed with them, we went to a dance/ theater performance he and his club put on. It was very modern, erie at times, trying really hard to be mysterious and expressive, but instead just came across as a little odd. At least this was the general consensus among us four female spectators.
During my time there and my FHE visits with the missionaries, Brigitte and Nadège always worked hard to cook lavishly. Particularly at the beginning, the meals were very traditional and I imagine quite expensive. I ate things that I would never have eaten had the social setting not dictated that I try. Examples include a rabbit that was given as a gift from the neighbor. Also pig snout, which I didn’t ask about until after I had eaten it. One day that I wasn’t able to go out for FHE, the missionaries later informed me they’d eaten calf heart. Needless to say, I’m not so open minded about my meats as some people, and I was not disappointed to have missed that particular dinner. Even with the occasional adventurous meals, eating with this family was some of my favorite memories from Poitiers. Those women sure do know how to cook. Some of my favorite meals were eaten at their dinner table, and we (myself and the missionaries) were always so grateful at their willingness to take us in, feed us a good meal, and share a simple lesson together.
The family home evening lessons were usually a conference talk that we would pass around and take turns reading. I always enjoyed this, particularly because this was a group of people I was comfortable around, who was French, and who I knew wouldn’t make fun when I stumbled across a word. Marion is dyslexic, so she struggles reading aloud. However, she always sat next to me and helped me pronounce the words. I remember her being very patient and I liked it when she corrected me, because I knew she understood what it was like to not know how to read a word, and I think it was good for her to see that other people struggle with that too. After we read the talk, we would discuss it or share personal experiences about the subject for 15 or 20 minutes.
During the time that I stayed with them overnight, after dinner each night we would watch a movie and eat ice cream. They have lots of movies, and every night someone takes a turn choosing. We watched several classic French films as well as American ones with French subtitles.
Brigitte and I talked a lot. We talked about her conversion to the church, voyages she made when she was young, her job, before she got sick and retired, her cancer, which is in remission now, her children, etc. She even took me with them to vote, and explained the whole process to me. I appreciated how welcoming she was, especially right at the beginning when I didn’t know anyone and felt awkward in the branch. I know that if I ever go back to Poitiers, no, not ever, but when i go back to Poitiers, I’ll most certainly be stopping by their little house in the countryside to say hello.
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