THE RUGBY GAME

I didn’t really know what to expect. I had never been to a rugby game in the States before, let alone a sports game in Europe. What I did expect though was a far stretch from what I actually got.

Marie and Marco asked me if I wanted to join them in coming to the Rugby game last Saturday, and I jumped on that opportunity. Let me back up. I have noticed two things that are extremely important to the people in the South of France and those things are drinking good wine and rugby. If there isn’t a conversation happening about wine, there is a conversation about rugby. Everyone knows, plays and lives rugby. It’s incredible how important it is here, when we hardly play it at all in the states. We play football, which is actually close; expect that the men all have really big pads on. If you ask me, rugby is a far more manly sport than football. You have so much protection in football. In rugby, all you have is your body. I won’t be joining a team anytime soon.

It has been quite cold here in Mazamet and also very rainy, so I put on everything warm that I had- three jackets, a puffy coat and a beanie to top it all off. No I wasn’t looking like the most beautiful flower, but I was going to a rugby game in the cold! Being absolutely adorable was the farthest thing from my mind.

Marie, Phillipo and Marco

It was just Marie, Marco, myself and a friend of theirs named Phillipo. Phillipo is one of the most hilarious people that I have met while being here. He is strangely quiet and gives you looks that you make you unsure if he is angry or just curious with you, until suddenly he is a loud, joking and crazy man. It’s either one way or the other with Phillipo. You never know which one you’ll get until it’s all just happening. Oh dear, Phillipo. How you make me smile.

These two were always happy to let me point my camera at them. In fact, everyone in the lions club was happy to comply to my need to take photos of all of them at all times. A special thank you to all of them.

Marco, watching the game with some serious intent. 

Men of the Lions Club.

We drove to the game, immediately bought a beer and then Marie and I separated from the two men. We went and sat on the very sidelines of the stadium. Marco is the President of something called The Lions Club, here in Mazamet. It is an important club that all of the very nice gentleman are a part of. The Lions Club has a lounge room at the top of the stadium where they go to watch the game. But more on that later.

Here is Marie and I, just chillin’ on the sidelines. We always laugh and talk and have a very good time when we are together. I am so lucky to have her. Also, she is a stunning woman.

During halftime, Marie and I decided to leave our seats on the sidelines and head up to where Marco and Phillipo were in the lounge, and oh my goodness I have never had the chance to do anything like this. There were just older men in the lounge, laughing, drinking and watching the game very loudly. It was exciting and fun to be with them. They would drink, spill their drinks and drink some more. They had a very nice setup in the lounge. I wasn’t complaining. I couldn’t believe I got to be up there with them.

Marie in the lounge watching the game, drinking Champagne.

These are the men in the lounge. 

Every time Castres (our team) made a goal, I was kissed my many different men, all who were excited and so happy to be at the game. This was a very important game for the surrounding cities, because if Castres failed to win, it would throw off the entire community of rugby. They wouldn’t get funding for smaller teams, they wouldn’t get to play in the next year, and they would be knocked out of some kind of roster completely. There was a lot of tension coming from everyone in that stadium, and when we were winning, the amount of joy was palpable.

Adorable, and so happy.

It wasn’t long before we had won the entire game, and the drinking continued and the laughing, the kissing and the celebrating got even more intense. At many times, I went into the lounge only to be cornered by a random member who wanted to ask me a million questions about America and about myself and who was very reluctant to let me go.

After we left the stadium, we jumped into the car only to drive several blocks when we parked. Little to my knowledge we were going to a large VIP after party where the players came to be interviewed and drink and to be congratulated. Marie pulled off her coat, put her magic fingers through her hair and she went from cold and windblown to looking like a million bucks. I still didn’t realize what a huge deal this party was and walked in with my beanie glued to my head and my arms poking out of my puffy coat. I will never forget how seriously underdressed I was at that party meeting all of the glorious rugby players in their suits and the many important people who were invited to that party and no, there was not another person in a beanie and coat like me.

Sometimes, I wonder how I got placed in a family who has such amazing opportunities and will drag me to all of their exciting events with all of their wonderful friends. I keep thinking, ‘how lucky am I?’

FALLING DOWN, FALLING DOWN

May 21, 201

I passed a really big obstacle today. I fell down the stairs. I have been waiting for this to happen to me ever since I got here, and today, it finally happened. Twice actually. It feels nice to finally have that over with and know that it will not be the last time it happens either. It’s also really nice to have my initial thought that it would hurt really bad finally confirmed. I think part of my body died when I fell down… twice. Things will be okay. I will try to slow down.

THE FARMERS MARKET

Ah, yes. The farmers market of Mazamet. So exciting, loud and so much fresh and exciting foods and smells. I can't believe the beautiful and wonderful food that they are selling here every Saturday morning. The cars still run through the market because the market is set up right in the roads and people are walking every which way that they like. 

This is Marco and Marie at the farmers market. A little shot of them they don't know I took.

THE COMMEMORATION

France is celebrating the end of the war in the month of May. They have many days off of school and work and many holidays that they celebrate. Marie was more than surprised when I told her I wanted to come to the commemoration that was happening one morning in the middle of town. She couldn’t believe I would be interested in such a thing.

There were two commemorations that we went to that morning. The first was a small commemoration with the mayor up near the mountains of Mazamet. There were only older townspeople there to see this commemoration happen. They said some very beautiful words in French and lay flowers down and the feet of a memorial.

We then drove down to a local pub in the center of the town and had a coffee with all of the Mayors counsel members and what seemed to me like very important people.

From the pub we walked to the next commemoration, which was in a much larger area of town. There was a bigger memorial hear and many more people. Still, these people were still quite a bit older, but there were many people there to hear the Mayor speak and to celebrate the day.

Little to my knowledge, during the Mayors speech, he told the audience that had gathered that there was an American visiting them and he thanked me for my presence there that day. I didn’t know this was happening until everyone around me had their eyes on me.

The staring was interrupted by the beginning of a French song that everyone joined in singing, and the commemoration was finished. I am so lucky that I was able to see  a part of their history and experience the joy and pride that they feel for their country.

And Mr. Mayor, thanks for the shout out.

THE RAIN IN MAZAMET FALLS MAINLY ON THE...

They say 'it is the rain of Mazamet.' Last night everyone knew it was coming. It was a dark and blustery day. This morning, I woke up to grey skies and a downpour of beautiful rain. Rain is always wonderful. There is no exception, or so I thought.

Today I had my first private French lesson with Madame Smith. Her house is a 45 minute walk from the house that I am staying in. No problem, I was excited for a wonderfully long walk through the streets of Mazamet 3 times a week. My lesson began at 11 this morning, so I put on everything that I had that was remotely warm and went on my way. No when Marie said that it was summer here, I trusted her and threw out all of the warm clothes, sweaters, jackets, sweatpants, etc, that I had packed when my suitcases were too heavy. I am seriously wishing that I hadn't.

I don't have my phone, so I couldn't google map this crazy address of 37 De Labyerouse Mazamet, so before I left, I drew a map from my computer and hoped that I would make it. I shouldn't have been so hopeful. It was a rough adventure.

Things were going as well as they could have in a downpour in summer attire on the cobblestone roads. I think that I was headed in the right direction for quite some time until I got trapped at a dead end. Because I had to turn myself around, I got extremely confused. This isn't a grid system like the streets in Utah. No, these are winding, twisting, differently sized, confusing streets with French names and no numbers or signs. I was lost. By this time, my handmade map was useless because the ink had completely run off of the tearing pages. I was lost in the flooded streets of France with no direction, no way to tell the time, and no idea what to do. So I did the only sensible thing that I could think of. I started knocking on doors to find help.

I knocked on maybe 15 doors before I found someone who could remotely understand what I was trying to do. She didn't speak English, but she understood. She actually persisted that she drive me there. The clock in her car told me I had been right to leave an hour and a half early. I had been walking in the rain for nearly an hour and 15 minutes. She dropped me off where she thought I was supposed to be, I said Merci Beaucoup as many times as I could and continued my quest. I knocked on several more doors before I finally got someone who knew her name and showed me the confusing route to get to her house from there.

When I got there, I was horribly late and completely embarrassed. She had me fill out a few forms, but when she handed me a pen, I couldn't hold it because my hand was completely numb. Not only could I not speak any French with her, I also couldn't write. I was trying to write with the pen in both of my hands like the 1st graders do in class. I wish I could have taken a picture of my writing. Madame Smith looked at the forms and then at me like she might have taken on a crazy and unpredictable student who might not have the aptitude for learning anything at all.

When I left, I put on my freezing and wet light jacket and the scarf I brought that was like putting on a wet blanket and made my journey home.

By the time I got home I thought I might die. The only heat I know of is actually in my bathroom. There are these bars that only remotely give off some heat. So I have cranked it up and have been pressed against them ever since.

Here is to a rainy day in Mazamet.

MY FOCUS

For the next three months, I have a lot of time to do the much needed internal thinking about my character than I have ever had before. I keep thinking how I should go about finding what I want and need and am in this life, and it becomes extremely overwhelming. So, because of this, I have decided to simply focus on just one thing.

In first Corinthians 13:4-6, it reads:

4 Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. 5 It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. 6 Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth.

When you replace the words ‘love’ with your name, and ‘it’ with she/him, it becomes something very personal.

Amelia is patient, Amelia is kind, she does not envy, she does not boast, she is not proud. She does not dishonor others, she is not self-seeking, she is not easily angered, she keeps no record of wrongs. Amelia does not delight in evil, but rejoices with the truth.

This has become my new focus. Because every single part of this section needs work and improvement, and I think now is the perfect time to turn my focus to this.