Last night was my first “rallye”. And well it was…
Anyway, rallye’s are held by a family of the noble class and the children of other noble families are invited. This has been a tradition for quite a while, with its initial purpose being to get the kids to meet each other, marry, and keep the noble blood noble, I suppose. I’m pretty sure they’re also called “les boites de mariage” which directly translates to marriage boxes. They’re very often at chateaux or nice locations and apparently a lot of money is dropped.
I took the place of my host brother, with the hopes of making new friends and getting acquainted with french teen life.
After rushing to get ready because I don’t and never will understand 24 hour time, I wound up on a coach bus, surrounded by people I didn’t really know at all, listening to 70’s soul music and on my way to a soirée at a castle. That was just the beginning of the ” how did I end up here? ” feeling.
An hour later, we arrived at Le Chateau Saint-Gery (look it up) where there was already food, music & alcohol waiting for us. Woohoo.
For any loved ones who are starting to worry, alcohol is limited and parents are supervising, keeping the food coming, and enjoying themselves.
I was introduced to a bunch of people as “Madoo” not “Maddi”. I was confused for a minute until I realized madoo is actually “ma douce” which is literally my sweet, my honey, my sweetheart. All night guys would walk by ” MA DOUCE! YUH ARRR OK ? ”
French accents are the cutest.
Within a little bit my feet were already killing & I rolled my ankle so of course, the heels came off. I was staying with a group of friends when a boy came up to me and asked me if I was the American and if I wanted to go outside and talk to him and his friends. Everyone was really nice and asked me if being barefoot is the style in America. They made an effort to speak French like I asked but they ended up explaining a lot in English. They basically repetitively embarrassed each other and asked me where I was from, how long I’m staying, questions like that. All of them claimed to be my host brother’s best friend, which kind of became a running joke that night.
I was freezing my butt off so I headed back inside, just wanting to eat gummy bears and talk to my friends but got intercepted and asked to dance.
Things to note…
- If you’ve been to any type of dance at my high school, or a club or wherever It is absolutely as far from that as you could imagine.
- French teens do “Le Rock” which is literally the best and most difficult thing ever. It’s basically full-fledged swing dancing but to any type of music that’s playing. Really bizarre but really cool. Here’s a link – http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xuBpC57FjJA&feature=related
- It’s actually really fun to watch when two people are really good and into it. Everyone has their own style depending on the music and their partner.
- My style is awkward, uncoordinated and dizzy.
As terrible as I was, I actually thoroughly enjoyed it. It’s really amusing because, boys DO NOT dance here. Like maybe a little break-dance type thing but not like this. It’s really funny to witness it and be a part of it. I danced with a few different boys, I think like 6 times total, and I was bad but gradually got better. When I messed up they’d say “no yuh arr zo awzum” or “eetz ok, yuh arr zo cute”. I laughed the entire time & it was probably the highlight of my night.
But, when asked to show them how people dance in America, I had to refuse and try my best to explain without actually doing it.
As the night went on and the boys got gradually more intoxicated, they became more outgoing, of course. I was actually kissed twice, but not going to dwell on that. But again, just wanting to eat gummy bears, I was literally swept off my feet, almost dropped, carried to the dance floor, then apologized to. But everything was fine, I didn’t have any real problems, and I had a great time dancing normally with a bunch of people, moving from group to group when someone would call me over.
There was a live band too which was also really cool.
They ended the night with this thing. Everyone sits behind one another on the floor with their legs out in a V, kind of making an interlocking train of people, if you feel me . Then they lean back and put their arms up. Meanwhile everyone is singing and clapping. Then one by one, someone JUMPS on the other people, like a stage-dive and crowd-surfs the line. Scary at some points, but hilarious.
At 1 AM, we piled on the bus, and I didn’t really sleep.
At 2 AM we arrived back in Toulouse. I smelled freaking nasty, like a nice combo of cigarettes, alcohol breath, sweat, cologne, and I wish I knew what else. My legs and feet hurt and I headed off to bed and woke up later than normal. Other than the fact that the bottom of my feet are swollen and that my legs hurt, I’m alive and quite well.
Overall, it was awesome and totally other-worldly; not something I’m going to forget. Also, sometimes, it’s good to be the only American girl.
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In other news, school is going well. I’m making friends whom I adore and everyone is nice and helpful. None of my classes are good for me though, half being too hard and half being too easy. I love my regular English class though. LOVE.
Also, I don’t have an art class so I decided to turn towards printmaking. It’s relaxing and not high stress, but at the same time stimulating. I think it would be cool to make prints from my photos of the city. It’s also totally doable just in my room.
I’m splurging and ordering supplies this week <3
Alls well. Peace out.
Bisous.
3805miles 