La Rentrée

La Rentrée: Back-to-school, the return

7 octobre 2012
Grenoble, France

Chères amies et chers amis,

I have to confess that as a child I always secretly welcomed September and the beginning of school. By August, I was tired of  the steamy, lazy days with the occasional trips to the library and the hot summer nights in my attic bedroom (sans air-conditioning). Outwardly, I went along with my friends who despaired of the passing of the summer and the approach of the school year. But in fact, by the time it finally rolled around, I think we were all  ready to go back. For me the coming of Labor Day and the start of a new school year meant reentry into the social and academic world that I loved along with the return of reasonably comfortable temperatures.  I longed for la rentrée, even if I didn't know the French word for it back then.

But rentrées are not only for school children; Steve and I have had several rentrées in recent years. In August 2011, we returned to our home in North Carolina from a sabbatical year in Grenoble, France, that had begun in July 2010. This September, we decided to again return to Grenoble when he was offered a job here. Et voilà, nous sommes ici!

If you were kind enough to read my blog, A Year in Grenoble, where I chronicled our previous experiences in Europe, you might remember that we had a severe learning curve while acclimating to our new French life. This time around things are a bit different--not that we aren't still learning. With the help of our dear Grenoble friends, we are settling into a life très familier. Touching back down is different; we're not the same people we were when we left France. And, with no definite date at this time for returning to America, we have a different perspective on the experiences we want to have while we are here, as we don't feel the urgency of packing in a lifetime of experiences into one year.

Nous nous sommes installés on a street that was created in the 1790s in les Quartier des Antiquaires, a district full of antique shops, art framing galleries, and book shops. (My pocketbook doesn't allow any real shopping here. Instead, je léche les vitrines je fais du lèche-vitrines* (I lick the windows = I go window-shopping). Nearby is the Laiterie Bayard, a fromagerie with its original 1920s decor and wonderful cheese choices. Our apartment has high ceilings and a beautiful wood hache floor named after the master wood marquetry craftsman Jean-François Hache (1730-1796), who is remembered with an adjacent street that bears his name. I can't confirm that Monsieur Hache actually installed our floor himself, but some friends have romantically suggested it. The building in which we live is sans ascenseur, which is understandable since it was built around the end of the 18th century. I remind myself that climbing the wide stone stairs is the best thing for my thighs, although I have a hard time convincing myself of that when I am carrying bags of groceries up the 80+ steps to our apartment. 

Hache wood floor

I will close now as l'école près d'ici (the school close to here) has let out, and I hear the children laughing and calling to each other (in near-perfect French--imagine that!) as they pass under my open porte-fenêtre on their way home from a long day at school. I think they are happier about the end of this school day than about la rentrée.
  
"I long, as does every human being, to be at home wherever I find myself." (Maya Angelou)

Bisous,
Maureen


Chères amies et chers amis: Dear friends (f.) and dear friends (m.) 
nouvelle rentrée: a new return
nous sommes ici: we are here
Nous nous sommes installés:  We are settled
fromagerie: cheese shop (that's an understatement!)
sans ascenseur: no elevator 
porte-fenêtre: French door

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*je fais du lèche-vitrines--Merci beaucoup à Bernard pour la correction.

The Belledone Mountains after the first snow--September 2012