dimanche 8 mai 2011

Of Cars, Trams, and Trains

or
A Trip to Nancy

But first, a side-note. Happy Mother's Day to the most amazing mother ever. She works hard and self-sacrifically to make sure the household runs smoothly, and she still had time to homeschool five children at once, and now to keep up on all the details of our lives away from home. She is truly a wonderful example of a godly, wise, and loving woman. And besides all that, she's just plain beautiful! I am so thankful God gave me her as my mother. I love you, Mom, and I can't wait to see you soon!

(And as a bonus, you get to see my handsome father, too!)

This weekend I went to visit my uncle and his family in Nancy. So Friday afternoon I left my French class early to catch the tram which goes to the train station. I arrived just in time for the doors to close in my face, so I had to wait for the next one, seven minutes later. Thus, I arrived at the train station with about five minutes to buy my ticket and get on the train. First attempt to buy ticket from the machine - unsuccessful. I failed to remove my bank card from the machine fast enough causing it to be mightily displeased with me and cancel the transaction. Second attempt to buy ticket from the machine - successful. But it was now 12:18 and my train left at 12:19. I grabbed my ticket and started to run, my heavy backpack bouncing unwieldely on my back. I ran up the steps to the track and jumped on the first train that presented itself to my view. Happily for me, it was indeed the train to Nancy! As I sank into a seat, the train pulled out of the station.

So the last time I visited Nancy in March, my aunt offered to teach me how to drive stick shift, but at the time I didn't have my driver's license with me, so we decided to wait until next time. When my aunt picked me up from the train station this time, she mentioned the subject again and said she would take me to Cora (the equivalent of Walmart) after it closed Friday night and let me drive in the parking lot. Well, the happenings of the rest of the day caused that plan to fall through. So Saturday morning, Tante Elia says, oh, I know! There's a nice quiet road near here - I'll just take you there. So off we go in the car and presently she pulls off the road just before a stoplight. Time to switch! I walk around the car halfway terrified. I hadn't driven in 4 months. My mom had showed me how it worked and let me drive around in a little parking lot and on a driveway when she visited back in February, but that had been 2 months ago. So I sat down, buckled up, scootched the seat forward, put the car in 1st, and....oh joy! successfully pulled onto the road and turned the corner without killing the engine! woohoo! We made it to our destination, a nursery to buy mulch, and then we headed back. I navigated four gears without major (note "major" not "no") problems until we arrived at a stoplight, where I dutifully stopped. Attempts to start again were not very successful, though we did eventually get going, turned the corner, and had to stop again. And I again killed the engine. And again. Happily, though, the last time I had to stop, I managed to start again successfully! And now I can drive stick shift. Which makes me very pleased with myself. :-) I'm glad my aunt was courageous enough to take me out!

Saturday night, my aunt, uncle, and the two youngest boys escort me back to the train station with about 20 minutes to spare. I buy my ticket and sit down to wait for the track of departure to be posted. After just a few minutes, it appears, so I gather up things and head down the stairs. Arriving at the track, I am preparing to enter the train when a woman appears at the top of the steps onto the track (you have to go down and then back up again) and asks, "Is this the train for Strasbourg?" Me: "Um, yes, I think so. That's what the screen right there says." I climb aboard and pick a seat in the empty train and settle in. A few minutes later, a 14 year - old boy comes past with his grandmother and pauses to say, "Excuse me, madam, is this the train for Strasbourg?" Me: "Um, yes, I think so. It says so on the screen out there." Presently, a woman comes and sits across the aisle from me. I idlely watch her settle in. She looks up, sees me, and then asks, "This is the train for Strasbourg, right?" Me: "Yes, I think so." So what I want to know is, is there something about me that says, "I am a human train time table. Please ask me where this train goes." Or in my coral shirt and denim skirt, do I somehow resemble the SNCF conductors, who wear purple and grey? Happily for all of us, at the end of an hour and a half, the train arrived in Strasbourg.

I arrived home to find Eliott all by his lonesome and mightily sorry for himself. I was busy brushing my teeth when Françoise got back, female friend in tow. Awkward, yes? "This is Mary, who is brushing her teeth," laughed Françoise. "Bonsoir," I mumble. "Well, I'm going to take Eliott for a walk now," says Françoise. "I already walked him," I endeavour to articulate. "You walked him already? Thank you so much!" responds Françoise. And then hugs me...me with my mouth full of toothpaste and a toothbrush sticking out the side. Well done, Mary! Way to look like an intelligent, graceful, well-adjusted American student.

If you need me, I'll be busy digging a hole in the ground.

5 commentaires:

  1. Francoise must be feeling really comfortable with you to do that! :-)
    Thanks for the Mother's Day greetings. Although the description feels far removed from reality. I do thank our Lord Jesus for all He has done in our family. Mom

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  2. Eloquently articulated - Happy Mother's day Mom!

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  3. In order to *truly* drive a stick shift, you need to do so with all your siblings - particularly younger ones, except you only have one younger one - in tow. Also your dog. And then, make sure that you are on a gravel road. On a steep hill. At a stop sign. You then need to try to start the vehicle - and proceed to kill it seven times in a row. If you can get it started without killing it - or if you can survive the derision of said younger sibling - and your parents - and the howling of your dog, who decides to join in the general ululation - well, you're a better manual driver than I. :-)

    And your blog was very intelligent and graceful; sure signs of an equally accomplished author.:-)

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  4. Can I offer a nice shovel?

    Happy Mother's day Mom!

    ~Amy~

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  5. Mary,

    So. When are the rest of the pictures coming?
    ;-P

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