(I imagine that this is probably going to be 'part one' of many parts!)
When we finally decided to move to France we thought up a little mantra as to how we would view our life here:
'We are going on an adventure! We will expect some difficulties but we can help, support and understand each other, and have lots of fun together. We will laugh, relax and visit gorgeous places, and let go of the challenges of facing new stuff all the time. We'll be in the south of France, and it's going to be great!'
That was the theory anyway.
When we first arrived, people would sometimes ask us whether we spoke French at home. We just laughed, and said that it would be very quiet at home if we did. It was a relief for the children to come home after school; to be somewhere where they could relax and not have their brains constantly turning inside-out. But to answer the question now - we definitely do speak English at home, unless a French friend comes to visit and then the kids switch to French and the grownups smile a lot.
In the early days, we made sure we phoned home to New Zealand regularly to speak to the ancient family members, our cousins, aunts, uncles and friends. Sometimes we would use skype to talk to our friends, although the kids didn't really talk much; they just pulled crazy faces and made disgusting noises.
We discovered the free delivery of English books through www.amazon.fr which became a bit of a life-line for us. The children have all started to read (for fun) in French now and really enjoy French comic books (bande-dessinee or BD) of which there are an astonishingly enormous array, for all ages. Think Asterix and Tintin, only dozens and dozens more titles. These are available at the local library in Ramonville St-Agne (along with one small shelf of English children's books). You will find us there quite frequently.
One thing that took a bit of time to adjust to when we first arrived was going to the supermarket. This was for the extremely simple reason that we couldn't really recognise things on the shelves: there were different kinds of foods and completely different brands; they were packaged in different boxes and bottles with different colours and logos; they weren't necessarily on the shelves in the places we knew them to be in New Zealand; and all the labels were in another language, and it took forever trying to work them out. And Not Just That, but imagine trying to buy some yogurt and finding a whole aisle of chillers dedicated solely to yogurts! Really, there's so many choices! And they are all so delicious!
Actually I think I avoided going shopping sometimes because it was not a short, in-out, easy affair. One day I said, half to myself, 'I think I will have to be brave and go and do some food shopping.' My daughter, Olivia, was in the room and I heard her say quietly, 'Yes Mum, I really think you should. I've been trying hard to sneak some food but there's not much food to sneak...'
Something that really helped though was that as soon as we could, we watched TV in English. It was such a good way to feel a bit more relaxed at the end of the day. As much fun as it is to watch a French movie (and I love them), after a hard day in the supermarket or at university, the last thing you need is another French lesson, when you just want to blob.
After a particularly difficult few days for the children at school one week, A friend, Samantha, suggested that we just get in the car and drive somewhere else. 'A change of scenery will do wonders' - that sort of thing. We went to Collioure, a quaint picturesque little town by the Mediterranean Sea, not far north of the Spanish border. It's really old, but actually looks about the same as it did in postcards we have seen of it from the 1960s. The children had the best time playing on the beach, and we came back with a car-full of stones of many different colours. We ate pizza (a surprisingly traditional French dish here!), and walked around the water's edge trying not to get splashed by the waves (husband and I) and trying to get splashed (the children), and we watched a man juggling and doing crazy clown things, entertaining gazillions of people even though it was the off-season.
Edward really enjoyed it too, that is until he fell into the water. We suspect he had been rather mesmerised by the waves lapping over the steps leading down into the water. All of a sudden he lost his balance and fell in; his whole little body just tumbled forwards without him realising it, face down. It was very cold and he cried. Thankfully someone extremely clever with tremendous foresight had thought to throw a few spare clothes in the back of the car, so he warmed up quite quickly.
And yes, it really did help to get away from the challenges of our new life for just that one day, and to see different and beautiful things.
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