Easter at Chez Louchet

The approach of Easter was a little depressing for me this year. I think I'm a bit worn out from work, and I wouldn't mind taking a weekend off to lie around my parents' house while my mom cooks her annual feast. Plus, the weather has been painfully cold for the past few days, worse than the rest of the winter, which is ironic because it's officially spring now.

So it was with delight that I bumped into my friend Vincent - a former colleague from Detroit - at work last week and accepted an invitation to his house for Easter lunch. I hadn't seen Vincent's family since we left Detroit over a year ago, and I was excited to reunite with them.

Dave and I piled into the car this morning and asked the Tom Tom to take us to the Louchet home, which is not far from my work in a village called Berneuil en Bray. We passed through miles of French countryside, along quiet winding roads, David loving every minute of the drive.

At the house we were greeted by Vincent's wife Jeanne, their daughters, and a few more friends and relatives. I was unabashedly thrilled to see Jeanne, and delighted to see that the oldest two girls, Zoé and Adèle, remembered me (the youngest, Gabrielle, was born a month after we left). Not only that, but Zoé immediately addressed us in English.

The new chez Louchet was reminiscent of their home in Michigan, and I recognized the artwork, kitchen appliances, and toys that I had been familiar with in Birmingham. Jeanne immediately made me feel at home by sitting me in front of a basket of potatoes and talking to me in French and English while we peeled. It was strange for me to talk to Jeanne in French, and I realized that I'd never really heard and understood her speak her native language before. Instead of the careful, strained French-accented English I was used to, her words flowed easily and musically. It was like a completely different voice.

In the living room I romped with the kids, helping them open their Easter chocolate and loading Pez dispensers. When I spoke to Zoé in French, she gave me a puzzled look, like "What do you think you're doing? You're not fooling anyone." Sometimes she'd answer me in French, which I took as a good sign that she understood me, but sometimes she'd plow on in English. I knew that Jeanne and Vincent wanted Zoé to retain her English as much as possible, so I did my best to speak slow, clear English to her.
For lunch we had duck confit and potato gratin, and dessert was a fantastic strawberry cake. After the meal we decided to take a walk around the area, along the picturesque country roads, but soon we were cold and uncomfortable and rushed back to the house for coffee and tea.

Later, on the ride home, we talked about the immense relief we felt around Jeanne and Vincent. Here were French friends we truly felt comfortable around - maybe speaking two languages at times, but without too much awkwardness. We'd actually known them for more than a year, and had memories to share. Here were friends we had missed.

Bummer for Michigan, but we're so glad they're back in France!