A taste of French culture: Brittany

Read regular guest posts about a Kiwi living abroad in a non-English speaking country.

 

 

I’m back at work after the school holidays. Some fellow language assistants and I hired a car and a French gite (a holiday home) and did a tour of Brittany, an area in the northwest of France and very near to where I am based. It’s such a distinctive and interesting area of France, made up of low stone houses with small windows, rocky cliffs, stony beaches and moors. It has a language of its own which the people of Brittany are keen to keep alive, breton (in French) or breizh. Traditionally, the men from Brittany were sailors or fishermen. The women wore elaborate starched lace headdresses and took charge of the home while their men were out voyaging. I’m told that Brittany remains a matriarchal region to this day, for this reason – go women!

There were four of us: two Kiwis (me and Kate), an American (Erina) and a Colombian (Diego). We talked about our own different languages and cultures, and exchanged our perceptions of life in France so far. The French have this thing where they blow air out through the lips to emphasise a point or a feeling, and around the dinner table one night we came up with at least three different styles that we’ve encountered so far. Erina was particularly good at the one which involves letting out a deep sigh with your lips partially open, but very relaxed, so they rattle as the air moves past them. I was hopeless at that one!

We picnicked on the cliffs at the westernmost point of France and visited villes closes – this is the area of a town or village which is surrounded by ramparts and where, in medieval times, all the villagers would go to be protected in case of attack. We made sure to eat lots of traditional Breton cuisine, which includes crepes eaten savoury or sweet, apple cider, and a cake called a Kouign Amande which is made almost entirely of butter and sugar. On our last night we made moules-frites (mussels and fries), which you can find in a lot of French restaurants. But they were even better cooked up by hand in our cosy gite. Delicious!

Speaking of which, apparently there is no suitable French translation for the English word “cosy”. All of us anglophones were incredulous at this state of affairs. “Comfortable” just doesn’t convey that little bit extra that is encompassed by the word “cosy”. Of course, the French have requisitioned a range of English words for their own use – le t-shirt, le business, les stars (celebrities) so I guess they could do the same with “cosy”. But then we found out that someone already has – wandering around the town of Quimper, we came across a little restaurant called “Le Cosy”!

Next school holidays I am heading south, to Marseille. I imagine the south of France will be very different from the windswept wild area of Brittany…

Mihiata  – Saint Nazaire, France