Whoo-Boy! (Sorry- no French equivalent) Where do I begin today? It's midnight again as I sit down to type, and I have come from yet another unbelievable gastronomic experience with my host family. So tonight, I need to be brief. I will either collapse over the keyboard and sleep til dawn, or explode from this last tremendous meal. Neither event would be a good thing; so let's get going!

We began the day very early, dressing to impress. We reminded our students repeatedly that one does not attend a function with the President dressed in jeans and T-shirts. So as I came down the stairs in my home, there were nods of agreement and exclaimations of wonder. All I did was wear what I might conduct in! Black dress pants, black blazer, and dark red blouse. But here, everything looks and feels different; so I might as well have been the queen! Cathie drove us to the central "holding" location, and dropped Sebastien and me off. We met our group, and then began what would become the watch-word for the day: WAIT. Patiently, quietly, and without complaint for the next three hours or so. When we were to move into the building, someone in charge quietly went around to the hundreds of people assembled and began telling us to line up. (There were schools here from all over France and Germany; as well as us from the US and tons of the general populace from France, Germany and locations around). Despite what people read or hear about the French; they are exceptionally well-ordered at large functions. They truly don't line up very well; as we have been taught, but they readily do what is asked without the slightest grumble and will very quickly shush whoever may be talking when someone in charge says anything. Case in point: It took about 30 minutes to get us all inside a big gym across from the hall where the "Town Hall Meeting" was to take place. There had to have been easily over 500 people assembled in this one spot, with I think several other holding areas around also. And there were exactly 3 bathroom stalls. We were told to finish our lunches here and wait to board the bus to the meeting. It was about 10:00 then, and we all stood around in groups (yes; stood- for hours) with very few chairs spaced around. I heard no complaints. And then our kids starting asking for the restroom. I've told you before that there are not so many public restrooms here, so I searched along with them. There were so many people packed into this space, it was hard to locate, but I eventually found a long knot of mostly women and girls, so I asked one if this was the line for the restroom. Yep- we had found it. It took somewhere around 30 or 40 minutes to get to the restroom proper, then began the disbelief that there were so few actual stalls. No wonder it took so long! But our kids did not complain; we have been helping them learn to just "deal with it" this whole trip. I hope they bring this back home!!!! Now while we are standing in the restroom line, someone goes up on the balcony that runs around the top of the gym and began speaking to the huge room. No microphone. And everyone around just falls quiet to hear. The only ones not listening were the ones already around the corner to get into the bathroom who had no idea any one was speaking. Truly very cool. Only problem was, she told us we would be boarding the bus in about 15 minutes. I'm pretty far back in line. A moment's panic- and then I remember that nothing really happens according to actual time here. It's a little like "Island" time- just whenever we get around to it! So, plenty of time for the restroom, then more waiting. About an hour more. Eventually we began boarding the buses. We got all split up, but the attendants (BEAUCOUP d'attendants!!!!!) reassured us we would all meet back up at the arena. I had no idea what to expect. I didn't know how this meeting would go, but I had plenty of time to figure it out. When we got to the arena, we were all sent to our color-coded zones, and sure enough, we managed to keep everyone more or less together. Security was unbelievably tight for the city, but fairly easy for us. At least- most of us. As we stood in line outside the arena to be moved into the arena in manageable numbers, attendants told us to turn on our cell phones and cameras to go through security. This was so they could see it was a real, working phone or camera. Remember we could carry nothing in a bag or purse. Everything had to be in our hand or pockets. These were my conducting clothes- NO POCKETS!!! I had to carry my passport, ticket and invitation, camera, cough drops, and inhaler in my hands. And then I discovered my camera battery was dead. I charged it last night, but I must not have gotten it clicked all the way in; because it had no charge. Another moment's panic. What if they confiscate my fantastic brand new- beautifully thin and chic- Christmas present- camera because it won't turn on??? So I turn to my local attendant and ask. I definitely put a kink in her well-planned day. It took her a few seconds, but she eventually told me to go through line one. The Problem Line. Then she made the Announcement. Anyone Else With A Problem Such As Mine Should Proceed To Line ONE. Well, one good thing. It was SHORT!!!!! I had to put my things on a little table then walk through the metal detector. No problem, usually, but I had to ask about My Problem. So I asked the gendarme if perhaps he spoke English? Pas du tout. Not at all. Was his very gruff answer. Great. Now I have to explain my Dead Battery Problem in FRENCH after standing for hours in my dress shoes; eating my "lunch" at 10:00 in the morning, and operating on a grand total of 3 and 1/2 hours of sleep. You know, every once in a while, an angel lands on your shoulder, and you come sailing through a potential quagmire. Such was the case today. After my initial explanation of my dead battery, which miracle in itself, he understood, he proceeded to turn it on. There's the second miracle. It came on! I got a very "Look, Pièrre- anozer stoopid Americahn zat cannot operate zee photo apparaiel!"- kind of look; but I grabbed my gear and took off for my zone. I was in! And my kids came on in behind me.
Remeber the watch-word of the day? Yeah, well, Mr. Obama also got the memo. We were to start at 1:45, but our President arrived fashionably late 45 minutes later. (I think the French actually appreciated that. They love this man!) One really, really cool thing happened, too. As we're sitting around waiting; someone walks out from behind the curtain at the edge of the arena. Someone in the crowd thought it was Mr. Obama, and the ENTIRE ASSEMBLY jumped to their feet in his honor. It was the most astonishing thing- this arena seats somewhere around a thousand people, and it was if someone fired off an electrical charge in their seats. They were all up and in a stunned hush, until they realized it wasn't really him. Now the rest of the story here in America would be general laughter at our "faux pas" and everyone would sit back down again again and resume their normal conversation. But remember we are NOT in America! These folks actually stayed on their feet for a tremendous amount of time. Waiting Patiently for the Real Thing. And the conversation remained hush for a long time. Eventually a few people sat, but most stayed standing. And Mr; Obama was finally announced. Mrs. Obama walked with him and was announced as well. He spoke well. He stayed focused, and kept to the point. After about 15 minutes, he opened the floor for questions. We had a general question/answer session, with Mr. Obama asking that the questions from the floor be kept to French or German folks, as it was their Town Hall meeting. The Americans didn't seem too put off by this, because he assured us he would have a Town Hall for us as well. But one burning question was neatly side-stepped. Someone asked about THE DOG. What TYPE of DOG would the White House have? After a thoughtful few seconds, our wonderful President assured the assembly that it would be there soon, and moved on. He NEVER actually answered the question!!! So we still don't know! Ah, well, That's politics!
The whole affair was over by about 5 that afternoon, after all the walking; lining up, moving a few times; then boarding the buses and trying to get all our kids paired up again with instructions for the weekend. It didn't take very long, though. Our kids have gotten very good at keeping together and following directions. (Another good thing to bring home, oui?)
So Sebastien and I took off for our rendezvous with his mom and dinner.
I don't know when I've missed a camera more. I had no idea, but "Julian's", where we were to eat that night, was fairly high up in the Alsatian mountains; and about and hour away. It is a grand hotel, more like a chateau, along the banks of the Bruche River. This little river is swift, stingingly cold, and tumbles over stones and quais until it runs beneath the most charming little covered bridge. Just on the other side of the bridge is a mountain. Right up from the river, and rising perhaps only three or four hundred feet. But there are little dots of houses along it, and flowering trees. And there is a garden all around the base of the chateau, containing hundreds of herbs and plants the chefs use here. They also had live bunnies and chicks in a pen in the garden for Easter for the little children who visit. We were eating with Cathie's parents, who are a unique blend like this region. They actually speak Alsatian- not pure French. Imagine mostly French with a rather pronounced German accent especially on certain words, and then throw in the certain words in German- not French! It was very difficult to understand them. Sebastien himself says he can't understand them very well, and it's really interesting to hear Cathie talk with them. They speak to her in Alsatian, and she answers in French. I don't know if she does that normally, or if it was for my benefit, because I can understand her fairly well. Seb translates sometimes when we both run out of synonyms to express what we are trying to say.
I had my first taste of Foi Gras tonight. I made a pledge to myself before I left that I would try absolutely anything that was offered to me. At home, I've been a confirmed vegetarian for probably about 10 years, and I tend to suffer with a tremendously sensitive digestive system. VERY funny thing- here, I have eaten meat, strange combinations of things that were spectacularly delicious, but for which I had no actual name, fish in abundance, and now goose liver. (Which I must admit was one of the most amazing things I have had here. Unbelievably delicious.) And I haven't had one instance of uncomfortable or complaining insides- except, of course, I am perpetually too full!!! Another angel, perhaps? Whatever the reason, I know I made the right decision to try everything. It would have been extremely rude to refuse such delicacies. They are opening their lives to me and offering me the very best that they have. How could anyone refuse such kindness?
I've fallen asleep at the wheel (or keyboard!) now several times, so I must go. I have no pictures for you today, as my battery was not charged. But many kids and teachers have pictures that we will be putting onto some sort of disk or combined remembrance of some sort. We'll let you know when that's done.
Tomorrow, I will go with Cathie to a French market for groceries, and hopefully have some much needed rest time. Monday- can you believe it- We're going to PARIS!

Nous allons à Paris!

Blessings and Peace from a very late-night France-

P.S. Please remember to forgive all my extra semi-colons, z's and q's, and any other strange things you see. I really can type- at home!

I love and miss you all-
Bonnie