Dear readers, it has been a while. I have been in Paris for the last three months and have not written anything about it. The truth is I reached a point where I had done so much in Paris that I didn’t know what to write about, so I just didn’t. The more I didn’t write, the more I had to write. I have decided that I’m not going to write about everything I’ve done in Paris since August 22nd. Instead, I’m going to talk about Bouville.

The road to Bouville

Bouville is a village in Essonne, île-de-France, about an hour’s drive from Paris. It has a 12th century church, a 13th century castle, and a population of under 650 inhabitants. You may be thinking that sounds like thousands of other villages in France. You’re right. What makes Bouville special is that it is where my host dad, Ivan, grew up (at least a little bit).

Ivan carving the turkey

While my host dad’s family moved to Paris after he finished elementary school, they never sold the house in Bouville. Since they retired, my host grandparents have spent their weekends, summers, and holidays in Bouville. I’ve been lucky enough to spend some time there myself, first for a birthday, then for Halloween, then for Thanksgiving.

My bedroom in Bouville

My second day in France, I was whisked away from Paris for my host grandmother’s 80th birthday party. I was immediately introduced to much of my extended host family. There was a baba au rhum cake and some presents and much relaxation.

Me, my host mom, aunt, and cousin

I love the pace of life at Bouville. During the day, we go on walks around the village, play cards and board games, and prepare and eat meals together. And before bed, we watch the news and then whatever movie is on TV. It’s a different atmosphere than Paris, for sure.

My next visit to Bouville was for Halloweekend. We. Went. Wild. Literally. We spent Halloween morning in the woods hunting for mushrooms and chestnuts. Getting out into the wilderness was amazing. Although Paris has plenty of nice green spaces, they are more like gardens than true nature. I was missing the fresh air of the rural countryside.

I spent the rest of the weekend playing Connect 4 and the Memory game with my 8 year old host cousin, doing Sudokus with my host grandparents, and reading Lucky Luke, a French bande desinée set in the American Wild West. For our last dinner that weekend, we shared a raclette, an alpine dish consisting of melted cheese, potatoes, mini pickles, and ham. It was a warm and cozy way to welcome in the less than spectacular November weather.

My host cousin enjoying the turkey

Finally, my last visit to Bouville was for Thanksgiving weekend. Obviously, the French don’t get Thanksgiving off from work, so we decided to celebrate on Sunday instead. On Friday, I drove down to Bouville with my host grandparents to start meal preparations. I had already purchased some harder-to-find products like fresh cranberries, Canadian maple syrup, and pecans, but we spent Saturday morning getting more typical groceries in a nearby town.

Had to trek across Paris for fresh cranberries

It was worth it!

I pride myself on many things, but my cooking is not one of them. I am a firm believer that cooking is not an exact science. This belief is confirmed every time I succeed in making something edible. With the enormous help of my host grandparents, I was able to successfully prepare a turkey, mashed potatoes, mashed sweet potatoes, cranberry sauce, apricot stuffing, a carrot and celery salad, a burnt pecan pie, and a mostly not burnt pecan pie.

Guess which pie got burnt

Thanksgiving in Bouville

Thanksgiving in CNY

Thanksgiving is my favorite holiday. It is a time to come together as a family, eat, celebrate, and think about and express gratitude. I am grateful for my host family here, who welcomed me into their home and were excited to celebrate a new tradition with me. I am grateful for my family back in New York and excited to celebrate many Thanksgivings to come with them. I am grateful for my friends, for the memories we have made and will continue to make together. I am grateful for my health, which has held up and will hopefully continue to do so through my year in Europe. I am grateful for, in no particular order, bananas, music, snow, public transportation, dogs, birds, trees, dental floss, and many other things. I hope you had a nice Thanksgiving, one filled with greetings and thanks.

Thanksgiving leftovers

I leave you with a quote from President John F. Kennedy’s 1963 Thanksgiving address:

“As we express our gratitude, we must never forget that the highest appreciation is not to utter words, but to live by them.”

Until next time. See you later, friends.

- Justin Dunn