The Loire River

The Loire River, France's longest river, flows near Le Puy-en-Velay, so one bright Sunday afternoon, Eluiza and I went to see it. What we found was quite astonishing.


The ruins of a Roman bridge proudly stands on the Loire in the town of Brives-Charensac. On the east side of the river (foreground), lies the old Roman road to Lyon. 




The Romans ruled France for more than 500 years starting in 121 B.C.E. Gaul became part of the Roman empire when Julius Caesar defeated Vercingetorix in 52 B.C.E during the Gallic Wars (58-51 B.C.E.).



This view of the bridge shows a cross-section of its interior and its base: boulders cemented together. 

Here is another view of the bridge's base on the west side of the river. A more modern 18th century bridge stands downstream. It is still used today.




The Loire flows downstream with a long view of the 18th century bridge and a riverwalk.



Upstream, the Loire is framed by the rolling hills of the Haute Loire region. 



Further upstream still is a small dam. Dams on the Loire have been a controversial issue since many people want to keep the Loire in its most natural state. According to the National Academic Quiz Tournaments:

"The Loire is sometimes called the 'last wild river in Western Europe,' and many proposed dams on the river have not been built because of opposition to the flooding of land and to interference with Atlantic salmon. The Loire Valley is particularly known for its vineyards and for its châteaux, a collection of over 300 castles dating to the 16th and 17th centuries."

The dam is designed for flood control. Trenches lie near the it as well as along the river. 








A riverwalk with trees, grass and a 12-foot retaining wall contribute to flood control. 

The stone wall adds both protection and beauty for a small neighborhood (on the right). 









A Little Bit on the Loire

The Loire begins its 1,012 km (628.8 miles) journey to the Atlantic Ocean in the southern Massif Central of southeast France. It flows north and west and empties just south of Brittany.
Covering more than a fifth of France's land area, the Loire flows through Nevers, Orleans, Blois, Tours, and Nantes. 

Its major tributary is the Allier, which joins the Loire at Le Bec d'Allier. The Borne River, which flows near the International Centre, is a tributary or rivière to the Loire. The Loire is called a fleuve since it ends up in the sea.  

Other major French rivers include:
Rhône--812 km (504.6 miles) a fleuve to Mediterranean Sea
Seine--776 km (482.2 miles) a  fleuve to Atlantic Ocean
Saône--480 km (298.2) a rivière to the Rhône

published by the Free Software Foundation 

The source of the Loire springs from the side of Mont Gerbier de Jonc, whose shape is this distinctive cone. It lies in the southern Cevennes hills within the department of Ardèche about 50 km (31 miles) southeast of Le Puy. The word Cevennes is derived from the Gaullist word, Cebenna, which was later Latinized by Julius Cæsar.

Someone attempted to show the source of the Loire with a sign that says:"Here starts my race to the ocean."     

Another view of the Loire's origins.

Feijoada at the Centre International

As a gift from our winter vacation from the International Centre, I brought Eluiza some black beans from Lyon in the belief that she would miss them in Le Puy since stores do not sell them here. After all, I assumed that Brazilians ate black beans. Wrong! Eluiza is from the São Paulo region while the black bean eaters are generally from Rio de Janeiro. No matter, she used the beans anyway and made feijoada, which is Brazil's national dish. What a treat!

Although she did not have traditional ingredients or a thick clay pot, she improvised by using three different types of pork. There are generally no spices in the dish because the slow-cooked meat provides all the salt and flavoring needed for a tasty meal. However, feijoada is a heavy dish, so to aid in its digestion, she added a touch of ground farina on top of the beans, rockette salad with tomatoes and vinaigrette, and orange slices. We also had a little fizzy Coca-Cola.

Typically feijoada is served with rice and sausage such as chouriço, morcela (blood sausage), farinheira. It sometimes contains vegetables and/or beef. Different regions of Brazil use either black, red, or brown beans. Feijoada is typically eaten for lunch on the weekends with friends or co-workers and it is intended to be a leisurely dish to eat while watching sports.

Stories about its origins differ. For example, one claims that it came from among the 4 million slaves who were brought to Brazil from the Sudan (present Liberia, Nigeria, Dahomey, and the Gold Coast); the Bantu (present Angola, Mozambique and Zaire); and the Islamic African countries. They stewed the black beans they were given for food and then added the pork leftovers from their masters' kitchens. The slaves also ate manioc and fruit.

Feijoada at one time was a political issue because it was considered a dish of the slaves. Some time after the abolition of slavery in 1888, the dish was banned. Then, of course, people began eating it in secret. After the ban was lifted (I can't find references as to when), the stew is now enjoyed by both the upper and lower classes only the upper classes eat it with meat and vegetables while the poor mix their beans with manioc flour.

Another story about the the dish, according to Rodrigo Elias, is that feijoada was served to the "urban slavocratic elite" in restaurants in Brazil. References from the Diário de Pernambuco of August 7, 1833, indicate that the menu at the Théâtre Hotel in Recife, was “Fe oada à la Brazilian.” In Rio de Janeiro, an advertisement in the Jornal do Commercio dated January 5, 1849, references Fe oada served in restaurants patronized by the “good society”.

Other Internet authors (Sarah Brown, Sarah Rallus et al, Wiki) claim that feijoada had its origins in Portugal, which was colonized by the ancient Romans. Soldiers then introduced the stew all over the empire where it remains a common dish even today. For example, the French have a version of feijoada served with white beans that they call "cassoulet." Northern Italians call it "cassoeula." Romanians cook "facile cu cornet"  while those in northwestern Spain make "fabada asturias." The stew also spread beyond the Roman Empire to Poland where they call it "tsholem" and "golonka."  

The Portuguese also introduced feijoada throughout their empire. Today, the dish is also served in Macau, Angola, Cape Verde, Mozambique, and Goa, India.

French Cooking Class

As I was preparing to go to France last summer, I thought about some of the things I wanted to do. Taking a French cooking class was one of them.

I had the opportunity to register for a 2-hour class in Lyon, just two blocks from where I was staying. (It's amazing to me how many things are available in this neighborhood!)

L'Atelier Gourmand offers classes for 49 euros, which includes instruction, food, facilities, tools, and a little box to bring the food you cook home.

We made filet mignon, goat cheese rosette, mango chutney, glazed carrots, rum cake. Fun to make and delicious to eat!

Goat cheese rosette as our entree

Filet mignon with glazed carrots and a mango/raisin/lime chutney side dish as our plat.

And here are the rum cakes. I shared them with the sisters I was staying with, who enjoyed them very much.

Pierre, a chef of seven years, was our instructor. Here he explains how we will cook the filet mignon.

Among the things he taught us was how to peel an onion without crying (don't cut the root). He showed us how to make a flower out of pastry, which was wrapped around the goat cheese. He also demonstrated how to grill the meat in a hot pan.

Here are my cooking buddies: Pierre and Guillaume. They really helped me get through the class, which was in French. I'd watch what they were doing.


Pierre gloats over the beautiful goat cheese rosettes.

One of the nice things about cooking class is that you get to eat what you make. The filet mignon was topped with a parsley, olive oil, coriander and lime sauce. Delicious!

Choc, Choc, Chocolat!!

The French seem to be crazy about chocolate, and this is certainly one bit of culture that I took to very easily. Everywhere you go, there is chocolate.

They have chocolate stores in their cities--some of which have been around for 100 years. My favorite in Lyon was Voisine, located on the Rue de la Républic as well as Place Bellecour.

They have croissants, rolls, breads filled with chocolate at nearly every boulangerie.

They write songs about chocolate. (Actually, this one is Spanish and English because I couldn't find the French one. But it illustrates the same idea: praise of chocolate.)

The film, Chocolate takes place in a small French town where people have an ecstatic reaction after eating a single piece of chocolate. The shop also knitted the community together around chocolate. Here's the film's soundtrack.

A common gift to give someone you visit is chocolate, and it is much appreciated. Apparently, chocolate is a common holiday gift as well. At the Super U grocery story in Le Puy, the most crowded section of the store was the chocolate display where an assortment of chocolate was available in various sizes.

The French have drinks with chocolate. My favorite is chocolat chaud--hot chocolate. It is so thick and creamy that you want to scrape the bottom with your spoon to get every bit. It's a great drink whether you are alone or with someone. 

Sister Rose (at the top of this page) and I had chocolat chaud after a movie. We went to the Ikone, which is just down the street from the theatre near the Place des Terreaux. Ikone offers not only chocolat chaud but an assortment of 12 different chocolate fondue flavors for different dishes. My favorite was the fruit plate where I dipped pieces of fruit in melted hazelnut chocolate. Two Brazilian students, Felipé and Leticia, introduced me to this place, and I regret not having taken any photos. You can see the fruit plate (and other offerings) in the Ikone Facebook video below. You don't need to know French to understand what a treasure this place really is.

During my last week of school, some Colombian students took me out to a café. Of course, I had chocolat chaud, and it went down very well along with the wonderful conversation we had about the students' career plans and their gratefulness to their parents who sent them to France. One young woman plans to be an industrial engineer and the other three are majoring in design. A couple of them were in their gap year in between high school and university. It was a great opportunity to meet these women who are going to shape the future of their country!  (BTW, they all know English and are now working on their third language, French.)

The chocolate is on a stick and it melts in a hot cup of warm milk. Delicious! 

Viva le chocolat!

Life on Chapponay

During my time in Lyon, I stayed with Sisters Rose and Marie Philippe in an apartment on Chapponay Street. They are Sisters of St. Joseph from the Congregation of Lyon. Rose was a parish minister and Marie Philippe was a teacher. They have lived together in Lyon for the past 45 years. During that time between 1-4 other sisters have lived with them. 

In their place on Chapponay, the sisters have two apartments. Rose and Marie Philippe live on the fifth floor ("le cinquième"). Meals, TV, the community gathering, and Internet are all available on the fifth floor. The second floor apartment ("le deuxième") has 3 bedrooms, a kitchen and bathroom. Over the years, 1-3 sisters have either lived there or stayed there during their travels to Lyon. I lived on the second floor.

My life in "le deuxième" has to be rated as a luxury: I was alone and had the run of the apartment. I treated this as a gift and truly enjoyed having the freedom to come and go as I wanted. The sisters also let me know that it was ok to not show up for every meal. I took advantage of this invitation by going to a restaurant by myself or more usually, with friends.  


Tour of "Le Deuxième"
My bedroom was comfortably simple, adequately equipped, and large enough to meet my needs.

The kitchen did not have a stove, but the sisters supplied it with a hot plate, microwave and electric teapot. The refrigerator (lower left) was small but big enough for my food. The appliance in the center with its top ajar is a small washing machine. Wedged between it and the black cupboard is the drying rack. Since there was no dryer, I air-dried my clothes and towels. I discovered that if I raised the heat to its highest level, my laundry would dry in about 24 hours (one of my little problem solving exercises). 

A view of the kitchen from its entrance.












The entrance to the apartment is through the door in the center left just behind my coats. Directly across from it is my bedroom. The bathroom is the door at the end of the hall and to the left of it is the shower. The kitchen is in the foreground to the right.

Daily Routine
My morning routine usually started between 5-6 a.m. (not my choice, I'd just wake up). I'd pray the office in English and read the Scriptures in French. Sometimes I'd do a little journaling. If I had homework, I dug right into it until about 7:30 a.m. when I had breakfast. About 8:15 I'd take my shower and do my exercises.

Breakfast was usually half a baguette with butter, tea, sometimes yogurt or sometimes an orange. During breakfast I'd either read a French magazine, do some homework, look at vocabulary words, or listen to a French radio station. I'd also make my lunch, which usually consisted of a sandwich and an apple. Only rarely did I eat out for lunch on school days.

My morning baguette came fresh from the boulangerie, which was 2 blocks away. If I made it there about 7:30, the baguette was just out of the oven, which made the butter melt. (I'm not a big butter fan, but French butter is unbelievably good and it goes well with a fresh baguette.) 

School started at 10 a.m. The day was divided accordingly: Session A 10-11:30, a 15-minute break, Session B 11:45-12:30, an hour for lunch, Session C 1:30-3 p.m. Teachers were rotated every day, but for the morning sessions, the same teacher stayed with us. 

Because I finished school at 3 p.m. and we didn't eat dinner until 7, I usually got hungry between 4-5 p.m. I had to be very disciplined NOT to stop at the tiny sandwich shop for the world's best fries, or the boulangerie for a chausson (apple turnover), or a café for a cappuccino or chocolat chaud, or the grocery store for potato chips. A few times I did give in to these temptations, but usually I went home and had a snack of peanuts, salad, soup, or fruit. Sometimes I just took a nap to forget that I was hungry and that would carry me through to dinner.

Le Petit Casino grocery store a couple blocks away was one of my favorite haunts. Although I ate dinner with the sisters, I bought my own breakfast and lunch. Figuring out what to get for these meals and snacks became an exercise in creative problem solving and financial management. The Petit Casino sold a lot of prepared foods and although I usually try to shy away from such things, I did buy them in Lyon because I didn't have the facilities to cook. Nevertheless, I found these meals to be very tasty. The real victory was the day I tried out the hot plate to make soup and hard boiled eggs. If I had stayed at Chapponay longer, I'm sure I would have been more adventurous.

This stuff below, for example, only cost 25 euros--and it lasted more than a week! 

Life with the Sisters
We all joined together for our evening meal at 7 p.m. It usually consisted of vegetable soup veloute (vegetables pulverized into a liquid), some kind of vegetable dish, fruit or dessert. The sisters also offered me cheese since I didn't have any for lunch as they did. Rose usually cooked, and I usually did the dishes. We'd usually talk about our day and there was much to talk about. 

We'd then watch the news at 8 p.m. Sometimes there was an interesting program at 9 p.m., and I'd stay and watch it. (It was an opportunity to practice French. Documentaries were especially good for this endeavor because they spoke more slowly than the news journalists.) Most of the time I'd go to my computer and catch up on American news, check e-mail and Facebook, and/or do my homework. I'd usually "descend" to my apartment between 9:30-10:30 p.m. and get ready for bed by reading a book in English. I actually read more books in Lyon than I have in a long time. These books included:

My Life in France by Julia Child (something I could identify with as a first timer in France)

We Were 8 Years in Power: An American Tragedy by Ta-nehisi Coates (fascinating, sad, and engaging)

The Handmaid's Tale by Margaret Atwood (pretty spooky)

A Year in the Merde by Stephen Clark (an Englishman's experience living and working in Paris with comments on the culture)

Andersonville: A Story of Rebel Military Prisons by John McElroy (I've wanted to read this book for years, but for some reason decided to read it; it is a fascinating account of life in the worst Southern prison during the Civil War.)

Weekends were free days so I'd usually read French magazines, do some housekeeping, complete homework assignments, practice French grammar or read English books. On Saturdays I'd go to the market, grocery store, or the bookstore in Place Bellecour as well as 4 p.m. Mass at St. Bonaventure's (12th century building). Among the highlights was a cooking class and a Hammam, a Middle Eastern sauna. 

This Hammam is a woman-only place that offers skin care, facials, hair dressing, hot oil massages, depilatory waxing, and God knows what else! Most of the women there were young Frenchwomen. There are several other Hammams in town, so I think this is something the French do to care about their skin. The sauna was hot and yet relaxing; sometimes they added a healing scent like lavender to the steam. After about 30 minutes in the sauna, a woman was available to scrub the old skin off my body. She spared no muscle and my treatment lasted for weeks before a new layer of old skin appeared! Unlike any other spa-like place I've experienced, there were couches available to stretch out and sleep after the treatment. After such a strenuous scrubbing, I certainly needed it!

On weekends we had the main meal together at noon. It consisted of some kind of meat with vegetables, cheese, fruit, dessert, wine, and coffee. We'd eat and talk together for about 90 minutes. Rose usually cooked, and Marie Philippe washed the dishes. 

One Sunday, Rose's niece and her family came for dinner, so it was nice to experience a French family gathering. The kids (19, 15, 12, 10) were all well-behaved and everyone sat at the table for about 2 hours. Then, as though a signal had gone off, the kids left the table. Mom and Dad went out on the balcony for a smoke. Finally, the whole family went out for a walk with Rose along the Rhône River. 

On other occasions, sisters from in-town or out-of-town visited on Saturday or Sunday. Rose and Marie Philippe may have been retired, but their lives on Chapponay were always in motion with visitors, their own travels, or activities with the sisters of the Congregation.


Many Thanks!!
I am grateful to Rose and Marie Philippe for allowing me to stay with them this winter. They made me feel comfortable, and they were willing to let me practice my French. (They proved to be very patient and kind women in this regard!) They listened intently to my activities and shared a bit of their lives with me. I also learned a lot about French culture from them, and for that, I am even more grateful.

The Rhône River

One of my great joys of living in Lyon in January and half of February was to walk along the Rhône River on my way to and from school. One section of the river was graced with platanes, the beautiful white trees planted in Lyon's parks and lining its major streets. As I walked I would prepare for class by doing practice warm ups in French. This included reading street and store signs in French, which helped me articulate the sounds as well as forcing myself to express my  thoughts in French instead of English.  


Next to the walkway among the trees is a lower walkway. Bicyclists and joggers seem to like it because it is safe from cars. On Sundays and holidays, families typically stroll here.  

The riverfront is also lined with tourist boats securely moored during the winter months. When the weather is nice, the boats offer cruises with food, music, and stunning views. 



This view of the Rhône shows the Lafayette Bridge and the 17th century buildings built on the riverfront. I crossed this bridge almost every day on my 45-minute walk to school. In the background (center-left) above the buildings is a white, castel-like structure. That's the Basilica on Fourvière Hill. It was built in 1872-84. Although it's difficult to see in this photo, to the left of the Basilica is a small chapel where Mother St. John Fontbonne used to go every day to pray for the sisters she sent to America. On my way to school I'd look up at that chapel as one of her daughters and pray to her for help with my French.




This is a view of the Rhône moving downstream toward the Confluence with the Saône. 

The city uses its two rivers, the Rhône and the Saône, to make Lyon a more beautiful and welcoming gathering place for residents and tourists alike. That includes creating places for people to sit. In warmer weather, these steps are lined with people. 

The towers in the  background (left) provide lights for the swimming pool below. 











Some background on the Rhône

The Rhône's 500-mile journey begins with the Rhône glacier located near Oberwald in the Swiss Alps--altitude 7,244 feet. It flows southwest through Geneva and later through Lyon where it meets its major tributary, the Saône River. It then goes due south through Avignon and finally through Arles where it forms a delta and empties into the Mediterranean Sea. In French, the Rhône is called a fleuve because it flows into the sea. The Saône, on the other hand, is a rivière because it is a tributary and flows into a fleuve. 

The Rhône has been an important transportation route since the ancient Greeks and Romans. Before modern railroads and freeways, the Rhône continued to be an inland trade highway.

Traveling down the Rhône by barge would take three weeks. Now, with motorized vessels, it takes only three days.

Mouth of the Rhone

The Rhone at Night


I didn't go out much at night, but one night I did and I discovered a whole new world. The Rhône was a magnificent sight as street lights reflected on its waters. The river also seemed to be at its calmest quite a contrast to  its daytime rush downstream. And, although winter temperatures in Lyon are in the 40s, people are constantly out walking along the river. Night time is no exception. 

This photo above shows the river upstream with the Lafayette Bridge in the background. Below is a photo looking downstream at the Wilson Bridge.


  

Behind this riverfront is the huge pedestrian shopping center that runs several blocks along Rue de la République from the Hôtel de Ville (city hall) to Place Bellecour, one of Europe's largest open squares; it measures 15 acres! There was a Ferris wheel there and next to it a churro stand (fried dough). It seemed odd that there were not other rides, however, the wheel gave stunning views of the city along the riverfront. Maybe that was the reason it was there. It also helped me find my way whenever I need to orient myself. I could see the Ferris wheel at the end of the street where I lived.


The Rhône at Flood Stage

One day the evening news announced that avalanches were occurring in the Alps. We certainly could see their effects on the Rhône as it passed through Lyon. In these photos below, the lower walkway was flooded. City workers put up barricades to prevent people from going into these areas. Meanwhile, people stood on the bridges with their cameras to record the flooding.

With the floods came whole tree trunks bobbing downstream.  I imagined they came from the Alps. There were also things like wool hats and ski gloves floating in the river. Because the river was quite stirred up, it was also muddier than usual, and it moved much quickly. I saw whitecaps about 2 feet high! 

The parking lot along the river and under the main street was totally flooded. I estimate that the river rose 8-12 feet! Clearly, this flooding was a clear reminder that whatever happens upstream affects those places downstream!

What the Rhône Meant to Me
Walking along the Rhône each day became a highlight as well as an opportunity to observe its daily changes. Gradually, I began to relate to the river and even personify it. 

One day after nearly four weeks of French lessons, I walked home feeling frustrated and depressed wondering if I were ever going to learn the language? My speaking abilities seemed to be degenerating, and I wasn't sure how much spoken French I really understood. My reading of French had improved greatly, but I couldn't recall the words whenever I tried to use them; I only remembered that I had studied them. As I passed by the Rhône on my way home from class, I stopped and asked it to help me. There was no answer. 

I told the sisters I lived with about my asking the river for help and was surprised when they suggested that I give it some time to speak to me. That night I had dreams and awoke with a stream of ideas about learning French. The river had opened my understanding about why I was so stressed about it. As I walked along the Rhône the next day, I felt quite uplifted in the belief that the Rhône had indeed spoken to me. Then I got another answer from it as I passed the sculpture on the Bourse building. The sculpture             shows the Confluence of the Rhône and Saône as lovers: the Rhône is the man and the Saône is the woman. 

Look at the determination on the Rhône's face. He is not diverted or distracted by anyone or anything. He has to go to the sea no matter what, and he will get there at his own pace! That was the river's message to me: only unceasing determination would help me to learn French and achieve fluency. Suddenly, I became more relaxed and less stressed. I focused on how I could be more determined to learn French rather than wondering why I wasn't learning fast enough. 

Artists have oftentimes personified Nature. The ancient gods and goddesses are depictions of Nature! Artists have also personified the Rhône. Here is one by Pierre Puvis de Chavannes (1883-86).

My favorite, however, will always be the small sculpture outside the Bourse building on Rue de la République in Lyon.