Life in France

[manoasurfer123]

I don't know anything about it....?

maybe I'll get some feedback from some one there :eek:

maybe that someone will quit worrying about a pandemic?

I'd like to hear about life in France? and what city in France would you consider the most "Hawaiian?"

What would a French person want as a gift from Hawaii? and what is the common gift for someone from France to someone in the US?

etc.

Manoa

[SusieMisajon]

You will get some feedback...just as soon as the kids have gone back to school, after eating lunch....

[manoasurfer123]

So do your kids come home from school to eat lunch...then go back to school?

[SusieMisajon]

Right, I'm back. We had a busy couple of days, and then we went fishing for the weekend. It was nice to escape the computer.

I'll begin with our weekend.

We are very lucky to have a camper, so we drove up, into the Pyrenees mountains to go trout fishing. My eldest son, Keoni, is a keen fisherman. Already we live at the foothills of the Pyrenees, so we drove up an hour, to just beyond Oloron, into the Asp and Ossau Valleys.

I had an ulterior motive...there's a pick-your-own blueberry farm, over there. It's also a campground and the guy makes jam...I can get canning jars and lids from him, for cheaper than supermarket prices...but that's another story.

The blueberries won't be ripe for another few weeks, so we headed off to the Gave (that's the river..the Gave de Oloron) just to the south. If you happen to have a map of SW France handy, it's down in the bottom left corner, between Pau and Bayonne...look for Oloron, and then for a small villiage called Buzy. (it's right next door to another small village, called Ogeu, where a very good bubbly spring water comes from...Ogeu is much better than Perrier, the bubbles have more 'bite' and they last longer, too).

The gorge down to the river was too difficult for the camper, so we parked about a kilometer away. The kids walked down with Adobo, our dog (yes, he's black) to go fishing and swimming, and I busied myself, setting up 'camp'. Campers are very nice...I wouldn't travel any other way, with kids...but, for the Mom, it's really just the same sink, with a different view. It takes a while to set up...pop the top, get out the bedding, cook rice, make dinner...

It was a beautiful sunny weekend, really clear and bright...and dang cold, during the night time! Keoni got up at 6:30am, and headed off to go back fising, telling me that he'd be back for lunchtime. The little guys, Leilani and Kalani (Keala didn't come, this weekend), and I spent a lazy morning, being woken up by zillions of screaming birds, and the clanking cowbells of the mountain herds.

Then Keoni came back at 9:30...halfway crying, white as a sheet, trembling, with the words, "Mom! There was a bear!". He'd been fishing about a mile downriver, in a very wild and very isolated place, when a deer crossed the river, just in front of him. The deer was in a panic, stumbling and tripping, and passed right next to him. Then he heard the grunting and roaring of the bear. Poor kid, he hid, crying and scared, for almost an hour, before getting up the courage to cross back over the river, wade upstream, and run almost a mile uphill.

He NEVER wants to go back there, again! It must've gotten to him, cause that's been the 'best fishing place in France' for several years now, for him. When I think that I used to drop him off, and leave him, all day, while the rest of us picked blueberries!!! He could've been eaten! And we'd probably never have known what had happened.

When we got back home, he went onto the Pyrenees Bear site (isn't internet a wonderful thing!), to confirm that the noise was really a bear...we were both hoping that it was a daddy deer, or a lynx...nope, it was a bear. I told him (trying to calm him down) that he was very lucky to have seen nature in action, as most people never do. Bears, here, are getting very rare, and there's a big fight between those who want them re-introduced, and those who want to keep their sheep alive. Keoni says he's very lucky, just to be alive, the heck with nature in action!

On the way home, we stopped near Navarrenx, and caught a few trout, and went swimming. It felt safer, once out of those mountains.

I've taken pictures, but someone (one of the kids, but nobody will admit to it) has messed with the photo thingy, so I can't empty the pictures into the machine. That'll have to wait, then.

[manoasurfer123]

Admin... please close this thread....

She is now on my ignore thread....

I don't want to hear her opinions on this subject....
or any others for that matter...

I think she's a bit french fried...

Mahalo...

Manoa

[admin]

Don't be an ass, Manoa. You started this thread specifically to call her out. At least she had the decency to respond and take your curiosity at face value.

That's a hell of a story, Susie. Thanks for sharing. I dare say it's a snapshot of a life not at all familiar to most of us.

[Pomai44]

Admin... please close this thread....

She is now on my ignore thread....

I don't want to hear her opinions on this subject....
or any others for that matter...

I think she's a bit french fried...

Mahalo...

Manoa
Ya know your a bit of a jerk

[tutusue]

Ya know what, Manoa? You started this thread and now no longer wish to participate. Nuthin' wrong with that. But, to ask admin to shut it down because you no longer want to participate is, well, a bit arrogant...maybe? Others will want to follow this thread and that's their prerogative. You've done the right thing by putting someone you no longer wish to read on 'ignore'. Shoulda quit while you were ahead! :D

[MadAzza]

We are very lucky to have a camper, so we drove up, into the Pyrenees mountains to go trout fishing. My eldest son, Keoni, is a keen fisherman. Already we live at the foothills of the Pyrenees, so we drove up an hour, to just beyond Oloron, into the Asp and Ossau Valleys.


Is that as gorgeous as I am imagining it?

Sounds like a great weekend! I haven't gone camping in ages. I don't really miss camping itself, but I do love being in a wilderness area occasionally. I love big country that makes me feel small when I'm in it.

[SusieMisajon]

Is that as gorgeous as I am imagining it?

Sounds like a great weekend! I haven't gone camping in ages. I don't really miss camping itself, but I do love being in a wilderness area occasionally. I love big country that makes me feel small when I'm in it.
It is...except for the bears.

I'm not sure that being in a camper can be considered 'camping'...even though ours is 20 years old, it does have all the 'mod-cons'; kitchen, stove, fridge, oven, sink, toilet (no bucket, here!), shower, even a TV (we don't have one of those in the house).

The Pyrenees are beautiful, and very wild. There's still snow up there, even now. And, as Keoni can tell you, the rivers are full of clean-tasting trout and salmon...the fish that are caught, downriver from towns taste icky. We were at the forest level, but up higher it's a scraped rock landscape. I'll have to get this camera thingy to work.

The nicest part, for me, was listening to the cowbells. Sheep don't seem to wear bells, but have spraypaint on them, to denote the different owners, I guess. Further west, nearer to Biarritz, there are wild ponies, their DNA shows them to be the closest living relative to the original wild horse...they sometimes have big bells on their necks, too. It's lovely morning music.

Old, old farmhouses dot the hills, even in far up and isolated places. When we go fishing, I collect river-washed pieces of old plates and pottery...a local version of Hawaiian beach glass...you get to imagine the age of the piece, and how it found it's way into the river. Well, I know how it found it's way into the river...the river was the trash dump, still in, in fact...once we were fishing, right in the middle of Oloron, it's got two rivers that meet, just in the center, and a lady living in a house on the edge, a bit up the bank, just threw her plastic bag of trash right into the river. We yelled, but she just made a face back.

After the spring snowmelt, when the swollen rivers have gone down, somewhat, you can tell how high the waterline was, just by looking at the plastic bags, stuck in the overhanging trees and bushes. Other things are thrown into the river, too...once Keoni was fishing from a bridge, and a man drove up, and dumped a bag of kittens into the river...he kept the bag.

[AbsolutChaos]

I don't really miss cold weather, but I do miss hiking in the fall, when the air is crisp and the leaves turn color. Your camping experience made me recall my own memories of camping/hiking, even though it isn't fall. I'm not big on camping, but hiking...sigh. As much as I enjoy hiking on Oahu, sometimes I wish I could find shaded trails that weren't so muddy! :p

[Leo Lakio]

She is now on my ignore thread....You have an "ignore thread?" Now, how did I miss that one...? :p

[pzarquon]

Spraypaint to ID sheep? I guess the sheep prefer that to branding or ear tagging, but... are those sheep raised to produce wool? One would think spraypaint would devalue the end product somewhat!

As for the sound of animal bells making for fond memories... to this day a distant cowbell (i.e. not a SNL cowbell!) will remind me of the summer I spent as a kid with my brother and grandparents in Hawi. The property borders a ranch, and in the early morning, we'd sometimes hear cowbells as they ambled past the nearest fence.

So, Susie, is this a typical weekend away? Or as special an occasion as it sounds like to the rest of us?

[sinjin]

He NEVER wants to go back there, again! It must've gotten to him, cause that's been the 'best fishing place in France' for several years now, for him. When I think that I used to drop him off, and leave him, all day, while the rest of us picked blueberries!!! He could've been eaten! And we'd probably never have known what had happened.

Um, you have nothing to fear from those bears. Just don't get between them and their young. Not that I'd expect you to be familiar with bears. Islanders. :p

[flying snow]

I've seen the spray painted sheep! I've also got pics of them! Lol.

When my friend took me to visit Stonehenge in the UK, there were loads of sheep on the fields next to it...they all had different colors of paint, spray painted on their bums. I couldn't stop laughing when I saw it. Yes, I'm easily amused.

(Out of curiousity Manoa...why do you feel such animosity toward Susie??)

[manoasurfer123]

I've seen the spray painted sheep! I've also got pics of them! Lol.

When my friend took me to visit Stonehenge in the UK, there were loads of sheep on the fields next to it...they all had different colors of paint, spray painted on their bums. I couldn't stop laughing when I saw it. Yes, I'm easily amused.

(Out of curiousity Manoa...why do you feel such animosity toward Susie??)
Flying snow...

I'm sorry if it feels I have animosity towards susie.... I honestly don't... and I'm sorry if it has come across that way.

I have though put her on ignore because I choose not to read what she posts.

Sorry Susie if you think I have animosity towards you.... I simply have not enjoyed reading your posts.... nothing personally... thus, I have you on ignore and therefore cannot answer any questions you may have asked.

I think that is part of the beauty of HT... we all are allowed to express our feelings.... sometimes we are batted around.... sometimes people agree.... sometimes people don't agree....and sometimes people get put on ignored...

No hard feelings though :)

With this said... I'm sorry I requested that this post be pulled....

If the answer has not already been answered....

What do French people give for Omiyagi?

Manoa

[flying snow]

Fair enough. I was ajust a little confuzzled.





Heh. I'm still getting a lil chuckle out of painted sheeps bums.

[MadAzza]

Flying snow...

I'm sorry if it feels I have animosity towards susie.... I honestly don't... and I'm sorry if it has come across that way.

I have though put her on ignore because I choose not to read what she posts.Manoa

You choose (you wrote that in present tense) not to read her posts, but you're still reading the thread she started?

And you are asking her about French "omiyage," so you're not reading her posts, but you expect her to eagerly await yours? So she can answer you and have you not read her replies? Or are you asking every other France resident *except* Susie to answer the question?

Well, now I'm confused.

[manoasurfer123]

You choose (you wrote that in present tense) not to read her posts, but you're still reading the thread she started?

And you are asking her about French "omiyage," so you're not reading her posts, but you expect her to eagerly await yours? So she can answer you and have you not read her replies? Or are you asking every other France resident *except* Susie to answer the question?

Well, now I'm confused.
Okay maddie... I bite...????

I thought I was clear with the "choose" word ?

I choose not to read what she writes in the future??? was there something wrong?

Love yah corrections normally though

[SusieMisajon]

I don't really miss cold weather, but I do miss hiking in the fall, when the air is crisp and the leaves turn color. Your camping experience made me recall my own memories of camping/hiking, even though it isn't fall. I'm not big on camping, but hiking...sigh. As much as I enjoy hiking on Oahu, sometimes I wish I could find shaded trails that weren't so muddy! :p
You want a non-muddy local trail? If you don't mind being a bit scared....you can hike up Mt. Kaala, from just behind Waialua High School. All the way up to the telescopes. And then you can walk down the access road, to get back. It's scary because you really DO go along those ridges, going up.

If you want something less frightening, there's a nice zig-zag trail, going up (to what is probably called 'peacock flats'), just behind the old Dillingham airstrip, in Mokuleia. That's the old one, as opposed to the newer one...the old one runs diagonally along the new one, somewhat behind it. It's now a place whare cattle are raised...lots of fly-rollers, vats of molasses, cowpoop, and bones.

About halfway down the runway, you'll see where there's been a rockslide, up on the mountain...just down from there, at the base of the hill, you'll find the ruins of an old Army outpost...almost forty years ago, it was already a ruin, and we found edible C-rations...just Kaena Point of this place is where the trail starts. Don't freak, when you hear the peacocks screaming...they were loud and scary back then, too. If you choose to clamber up the rockslide, instead, there's a little banana forest, with very good bananas.

Please post some pictures, for me.

[SusieMisajon]

Spraypaint to ID sheep? I guess the sheep prefer that to branding or ear tagging, but... are those sheep raised to produce wool? One would think spraypaint would devalue the end product somewhat!

As for the sound of animal bells making for fond memories... to this day a distant cowbell (i.e. not a SNL cowbell!) will remind me of the summer I spent as a kid with my brother and grandparents in Hawi. The property borders a ranch, and in the early morning, we'd sometimes hear cowbells as they ambled past the nearest fence.

So, Susie, is this a typical weekend away? Or as special an occasion as it sounds like to the rest of us?
The sheep are raised for their milk, it makes pretty good, if strong tasting, cheese. The wool is dumped. The lambs get roasted with garlic, or made into the Basque Meshui BBQ. The older sheep get turned into merguez sausages...kinda like a spicey link.

That's a a typical weekend, for us....when I happen to have $$$, for the gas. We don't usually go far, because of the $$...gas costs the equivalent of $6.00 a gallon.

Kids don't go to school, over here, on wednesdays, til they get to be about 11 years old...then they only go half-days, on wednesdays. I still have two little guys at home, so we go off, somewhere, on tuesday night, too....in fact, we just now got back, from Sauveterre, about ten miles from here, where we spent last night, down by the Gave de Oloron.

Sauveterre (it translates to 'safe ground') is just on the border of the Bearnaise and the Basque Country. Years ago, anyone who could make it to Sauveterre, when being attacked by the Basques, was safe. There's an old, crumbling castle, and a beautiful church, with the river flowing, down below the town.

Witches, or anyone thought to be one, were not too safe, though....anyone thought to be a witch was 'floated', in the river. Float, and you're a witch, and then got burned. Sink, and 'oops! sorry!'. I did take a picture, of the view from my bed, but I still can't get the dang thing to work.

[SusieMisajon]

Um, you have nothing to fear from those bears. Just don't get between them and their young. Not that I'd expect you to be familiar with bears. Islanders. :p
Keoni and I, both, still don't sleep too well. I don't expect that we'll be going back there, too soon, anyways. There are other fish, in other rivers.

[Leo Lakio]

Reading the newspaper yesterday, I saw this timely article about the reintroduction of bears to the Pyrenees.
http://www.guardian.co.uk/spain/article/0,,1791010,00.html

[SusieMisajon]

Reading the newspaper yesterday, I saw this timely article about the reintroduction of bears to the Pyrenees.
http://www.guardian.co.uk/spain/article/0,,1791010,00.html
True. It's a big stink. Fistfights betweens the farmers and the greens. Poor old bears, stuck in the middle.

It really IS wild and isolated, up there, you wouldn't think that losing a few sheep, or a cow or two, would hurt. But, from Keoni's white face, I think that it's the fear factor. People here are still in the middle ages, the 'greens' are considered (and often, are) meddling, bleeding-hearts, from the big cities, who don't know their ass from their elbow.

[boowa]

I don't know anything about it....?

maybe I'll get some feedback from some one there :eek:

maybe that someone will quit worrying about a pandemic?

I'd like to hear about life in France? and what city in France would you consider the most "Hawaiian?"

What would a French person want as a gift from Hawaii? and what is the common gift for someone from France to someone in the US?

etc.

Manoa

life in france?-riding scooters while chain smoking with a bottle of chardonnay and a mile-long baguette in the basket.

"most hawaiian" french city?-gotta be nice though they aint nice but topless they is.

frenchies dont want anything american except le big macs!

and the french dont give gifts to americans-the last one the statue of liberty-they now want back!

[MadAzza]

Okay maddie... I bite...????

I thought I was clear with the "choose" word ?

I choose not to read what she writes in the future??? was there something wrong?

Love yah corrections normally though

I was wondering why you are asking questions of Susie in a thread she would be the logical choice to respond to, if you also are not reading her posts any more. That's the part I was confused by.

Sometimes I am easily confused!

[SusieMisajon]

For a small town (less than 5000 people), we have alot of churches. There are two Catholic ones, one Protestant Temple, and one Jehovah's Witness Hall.

The Catholic ones have bells.

The bells ring out the hour, on the hour, and again, five minutes later..in case you neglected to count the first time. They ring on the half-hour, too..but only one chime...so, if you're an insomniac, and it just rings once, you get to wonder if it's half past something, or one in the morning.

They have special bell ringing, for noon...first, the twelve hourly ones chime, and then, dang, dang, dang...come, we go eat! Then the twelve ring again, just to remind you.

Then, there's the 'go to bed bells'...at least, that's what I've always told the kids. These chime at seven thirty, each evening, a pretty little melody. Not being Catholic, I'm not sure what they're for...service, maybe, or an old-fashioned way to call in field workers, at the end of the day. When the kids were little, I had them convinced that they needed to be in bed, before those sounded...it doesn't seem to work any longer, now that they've grown up. But it still makes this Pavlovian Mom yawn.

On Sunday mornings, at ten, there's beautiful music from the bells. I suspect that this is either the end or the beginning of a service. If we're not up, by then, it most certainly wakes us all...especially during the summer, when the windows are wide open, night and day.

Then, there are the ones for whom the bell tolls...Bong. Bong. Bong. Bong. Very slowly, for a very long time, both before and after a funeral service. Those go off at least once, every three days, during the winter, and alot less, in the summer.

[Leo Lakio]

and one Jehovah's Witness Hall.I've always wondered, since they call them "Assembly Halls," is that where they build the new JWs? :D

[SusieMisajon]

I don't know...maybe because they're so quick to build? Easy-to-assemble...24 hours, and you're done.

[Leo Lakio]

I don't know...maybe because they're so quick to build? Easy-to-assemble...24 hours, and you're done.Oh, trust me...I'm "done" with Jehovah's Witnesses in far less time than that.

[SusieMisajon]

Oh, trust me...I'm "done" with Jehovah's Witnesses in far less time than that.
I was talking about the actual Halls...they do something called 'quick-build'.

(but I expect that you're making a joke)

[chriscollado]

Oh, trust me...I'm "done" with Jehovah's Witnesses in far less time than that.

If you are brave enough all you have to do is answer the door naked wearing only a surgical glove and yell "I'm a squid." Then try to give them a hug.

No I haven't tried it myself :rolleyes:

[manoasurfer123]

With all due respect to the french people....

I'm glad Italy won the world cup just because of the blatant head butt
that your french captain did to the italian player.

I like Lasagna better than escargot anyhow :eek:

[SusieMisajon]

I didn't see the game, because we don't have a TV. But my boys, Keoni, 15 and Keala Kai 13, did. They came back telling me all about the poor sportsmanship behavior of that headbutting guy. It's too bad, because that's all he is ever going to be remembered for.

I prefer lasagna over escargot, too. But foie gras and confit are pretty good.

[Pua'i Mana'o]

digging up this thread....

why did you move to France? How long have you been there?

(imagines munching on blueberries, waiting to learn more about Susie's World)

[SusieMisajon]

I've been here for over twenty years. It has it's good points, this place, but the winters are hard, and gray. I named the kids local names as a concession to my homesickness...Keoni, Keala Kai, Leilani, and Kalani, they range in ages from 8 to 15.

'Okay in France'? Hmmm...I feel like a fish out of water, or a square peg in a round hole. I'll NEVER figure these people out!

[Pua'i Mana'o]

is your dh French? How did you two meet, and how did he manage to take you to the opposite side of the world?

[Pua'i Mana'o]

And what do the french locals think comprises your ethnic makeup?

[SusieMisajon]

is your dh French? How did you two meet, and how did he manage to take you to the opposite side of the world?
It was hormones...I was in love. My Mom tried to tell me, but did I listen?!

We met in London, where I was living at the time. Then I got handicapped in a car accident and he came to vist me after I went back to Hawaii to try to get better (Thank you Dr. Walinski and a pain-management team in Hilo)....and then I visited France twice, before packing up the dog and the cat (who'd come with me from London and had gone through quarantine), and came over here.

Yeah, he's French...that's why I get so much humbug, I'm the foreigner. I never knew this kind of discrimination existed. But that's another story.

So now I live in this funny little French country town. Have a look www.rogerhallett.com put your mouse on the picture and it goes round and round...if you go too fast, you get dizzy, so watch out!

[Pua'i Mana'o]

are you discriminated against for being from Hawaii? For being a US citizen? Is it because who your inlaws are? Or because you don't look like them?

Mahalo for indulging my questions. I am sorry for being so niele, but I am genuinely curious.

[SusieMisajon]

are you discriminated against for being from Hawaii? For being a US citizen? Is it because who your inlaws are? Or because you don't look like them?

Mahalo for indulging my questions. I am sorry for being so niele, but I am genuinely curious.
No, I'm Haole, I look just like everyone else here. Well...except I go barefoot.

This is just a really small, closed town. First cousins still marry each other, and there are only about thirty big names in the phonebook...for a town of about 5000, with another 3000 in the outlying villages, that's inbreeding, if you ask me.

The town has made it's money and it's history with salt. It's in the earth and in the water. Man has been here since before the Bronze Age, at least, according to the finds. We are well known for the hot salt-water 'cures', and have a thermal station with a big pool and hydrotherapy clinic. Even dogs and racehorses come for the 'cure'.

The salt rights are owned by certain members of the town. These rights can only be passed from father to first-born, legitimate, son, as long as the child has been born locally. There are about 800 'salt-partners', who split up the $$$ made from the 'curists' and the thermal station in what's called the 'Annual Sauce'. Don't you just love the French language?!

For many, many years, the locals have guarded against anyone trying to 'steal' their salt-rights, to the point of many of the marriages being 'marriage-blancs'...no-sex marriages of convenience, often between a very old and a very young partner. Many of the big houses in town are actually two separate dwellings, joined by one communal door...making life bearable for the partners in these matches, I imagine.

The local custom was for the young men of the town to meet the trains carrying the 'curists', and embark upon a holiday romance during their stay, and then send the 'cured' one merrily along their way, when the time was up. Newcomers to the town still have to suffer the advances of these historical Lotharios' decendants. It can be quite funny to watch the people in this town.

For me, this town represents France, for I really don't know any other place. I moved here after my divorce because I found housing to be cheap to buy, and it was far away enough from my ex to feel somewhat 'free'. Fair enough...he did try to warn me, and tell me that, as a foreign, female, single parent, a small French town could be a rough place. There's apparently a well known French writer (Victor Hugo, maybe?) that writes of just these kinds of places, and life within them. I was naive, I guess. Or stupid.

Bush hasn't helped. I often get flack because of him. But that's another post.

[manoasurfer123]

Susie -

From what you have posted on HT today... I don't know how to feel?

1. Shocked... ie; "Divorce is hard to get here..." something to that effect...
2. Amazed....ie; at how many kids you have, I know how hard it is just to raise one...... (more power to you)
3. Bewildered...ie; "the history of the place your from" (sounded like hobbitville...and then I watched the video and i was like... omg! it is;))
4. I feel guilt... "for a lot the initial crapola I gave to you when you first signed up to HT spouting stuff about how we need to prepare for the worst...
5. Proud... A local girl that has remained strong over there in France.
6. Honored.... that I've been able to keep you off my ignore list since initially putting you on it.... we all have lessons to learn....
7. Glad - that you have stuck with HT and changed your ways around here and chilled.

With that susie.... from your honesty in your posts today... I myself shed a tear...

You saying the true words from your heart means more than any of all of the posts you have said before....

I think you are a strong lady susie... and I'm sorry for posting stuff about you before I knew what was going on.... your first few posts to HT had me ready to build my own "safe house" built under the lava somewhere... :p

Manoa

P.S. and for those that didn't read her posts today...please do and don't jump all over me before you read them. :o

[SusieMisajon]

Awwww.....Manoa! Dass SO sweet. I'm glad that you changed your ways, too. Kiss?

(You mean you DIDN'T build yourself a shelter and fill it with preps?!! Oh, NO! I want you for LIVE though the pandemic!)(do um now den)

your friend, susie

[SusieMisajon]

And what do the french locals think comprises your ethnic makeup?
They think I'm English, from England. I'm known as 'L'Anglaise'. Many of them have no idea where Hawaii is, or that it belongs to America.

My nutcase neighbor in front of me does know, though...she says that when the extreme right wing Sarkhozy gets elected, that I'll be kicked out, cause I speak 'disco english' to the kids and to the dog. Sheesh!

(I kinda scared, but)(these people have had practice putting foreigners into camps)

[Pua'i Mana'o]

Wow.

How are your children regarded in that town? Is your xh around enough to be in their lives? Do you have a support network around you? Friends there?

[SusieMisajon]

Wow.

How are your children regarded in that town? Is your xh around enough to be in their lives? Do you have a support network around you? Friends there?
Lucky for me the kids are polite and well raised and do well in school...it helps a lot. The kids are considered from here, but with a 'different' Mom. I figured it out years ago...I volunteered at the schools, the foodbank, the bloodbank...I gave birthday parties and invited everyone, I made a hundred cookie houses at Christmas and invited everyone I knew, plus more that I didn't, to come and decorate a house with candy. I asked to be taught about everything I didn't know...gardening, cooking, small animal husbandry...I walked and took the kds to every event and festival and community thing that I could...they played the piano and rode in the parades and danced...I picked apples and pumpkins and showed the kids at school how to make applesauce and bob for apples and carve a pumpkin...I bought candy and passed it out to the neighbors and then got the neighborhood kids to go trick-or-treat...I dyed 360 easter eggs and sewed a bunny costume and showed up at school to give out Easter eggs and then discovered that, in France, it's NOT the Easter Bunny, but the bells of the church, that bring goodies. I gave quilting classes. I made friends with lots of little old ladies that told me stories of the people that live here...sadly, many of the little old ladies have dies off. I took the baby donkey and the chickens and the rabbits to school, and each year we hatched chicks in the incubator in the classroom. I took the mommy goat and her baby to school and squirted milk all over everybody. I had sleepovers and picnics and I'm still finding confetti from ten years ago in the corners of the house.

For the most part, I can tell you that it worked...all of the kids in my kids' classes will stop and say 'Hi' with a double kiss to the cheeks, when they pass. This house is like a trainstation with all the kids and friends that pass through it. And about half of the town accepts me. The other half just doesn't know what they are missing, is all.

The teachers, doctor, veterinarian and the police all have no problem with me, and we're on first-name, double-kiss basis. My Mom, when she came last, made a point that there are plenty of 'pillars of society' that come by (she was being sarcastic)...and it's true that ordinary nutcases and drunks and poor people and wild children and depressed moms and unemployed say hi to me, too...there's lots of those in this town.

Real friends are few and far between, but they do exist. Now that I speak and understand the language, I'm sometimes not sure if I don't prefer to not understand it. It was better to not scratch the surface, perhaps.

My ex is in Bordeaux, about two hours north. I am still enraged.

[Pua'i Mana'o]

Wow.

Wow.

You rock, Susie. I am sorry that you are so far away from the rock of your childhood, but I am glad that you have your computer and Hawaii Threads to get you through those moments. :D

I am also sorry that your marriage didn't turn out the way you had hoped it would. I hope that he supports his kids and that he isn't a dick to them. And I am so impressed at how you have done your best to integrate into the community.

Do you speak French or English to your children at home? In which contexts are you likely to speak either language?

[Lei K]

It's great getting to know more about you Susie. I've wondered all of these things as well. You sound like a strong person. Just wanted to say that. Carry on, I stay niele as well. :p

[1stwahine]

Amazing. You are a very strong WOMAN ~ Susie. :D

Aloha and LOVE

Auntie Lynn

[SusieMisajon]

Wow.

Wow.

You rock, Susie. I am sorry that you are so far away from the rock of your childhood, but I am glad that you have your computer and Hawaii Threads to get you through those moments. :D

I am also sorry that your marriage didn't turn out the way you had hoped it would. I hope that he supports his kids and that he isn't a dick to them. And I am so impressed at how you have done your best to integrate into the community.

Do you speak French or English to your children at home? In which contexts are you likely to speak either language?
I also get Aloha World Ohana Lanai...it's for all of us homesick ex-pats. Thank goodness for here, there, and the internet, like you say...it means a little window has opened where I thought there was none.

The ex is a dick...I call him FF (you'll have to guess, or PM me, to find what that means)...but that's another story.

I speak English to them, and insist that they speak English at home. In the beginning I had no choice, cause I didn't speak French. And anyways, can you imagine making baby-talk to your kids in a foreign language? But I get a lot of flack for it...

I remember my Mom telling me the story about when she first came to Hawaii as a young German bride, and my (immigrant from the PI but that's yet another story) Grampa yelled at her 'Speak American to those kids, the war is over!'. So she did, being young and eager to make a good impression, and we never spoke German except for the times that my Dad went to Vietnam and we lived in Germany with the German Oma. Kids pick it up fast, but my German is very, very rusty.

I had my babies when I was not so young and cared more about the babies than what my FIL had to say...but he tried. My husband-at-the-time had given me a book about raising children bilingually...it said to speak the minority language in the home, and that the local language would come naturally.

And it has. The kids speak perfectly in both languages. Although, looking back, I should've worked harder on the English reading and writing bit...not that the're all that far behind...Keoni has been accepted into an international school where all lessons are done in American-English, and many of the students are from countries other than France. (there's even a Leilani in his school, and I'm waiting to find out if she has local connecions)

But...if you ask my kids what language they dream and think in...sigh...it's French. That's normal, I guess, because French is the language of play at school...but I don't have to like it. sometimes, when my back is turned, they lapse into French at home...that's when I get out the slipper 'This is my house! You will speak my language! I'm not in this God-forsaken country to loose eveything! How are you going to be able to speak to your Gramma?!'....ahem...I try to remain calm...

There is actually a woman in this town who was raised in Portugal by a British Mom and Potuguese Dad...she speaks ONLY French to her kids (and she's an English teacher at the school), because she's fallen out with her Mother, and does it to be mean...can you imagine!

[SusieMisajon]

Here is your 'French thing of the day'...seeing that this is a French thread..

Eggs Mimosa

Hard boil eggs and shell them. Cut the in half lengthwise, and take out the yolks. Put the whites, puka side up, on a platter, and fill with a good mustardy mayonnaise. Grate the yolks over the top, and the dish will resemble mimosa flowers, which are little round balls of bright yellow fuzz.

Fancy French stuffed eggs.

[manoasurfer123]

susie... once again...

thank you for sharing your heart with us...

I am touched by what you are saying.

I am glad I have taken time to listen to your story and the more I listen
to what you are saying... the more I understand you.

Mahalo,

Manoa

[Leo Lakio]

So, Susie...I've been afraid to ask, but...does the ex have much involvement in the children's lives? Is that why the French divorce laws keep you from coming home with them to stay - to give them the opportunity to have some connection with their father? Is that connection still a good thing for the kids' sake at least, despite how much he/the situation angers you?

And yes, "none of your business" IS an acceptable response to these questions...

[SusieMisajon]

So, Susie...I've been afraid to ask, but...does the ex have much involvement in the children's lives? Is that why the French divorce laws keep you from coming home with them to stay - to give them the opportunity to have some connection with their father? Is that connection still a good thing for the kids' sake at least, despite how much he/the situation angers you?

And yes, "none of your business" IS an acceptable response to these questions...
Oh, WHAT a question!

Since our divorce, he's told me that I will loose eveything, friends, family, kids, house, money, sanity....and he's been trying, all these years.

Only the first two are his (the little guys are mine, alone). Keoni was 1 1/2, and I was seven weeks pregnant with Keala when I was attacked by him (the torts of the divorce are his, due to conjugal violence). He'd never 'really' been violent before then (classic, huh?)...it was yet another letter from his Mother that did it.

Let me tell you...you know how, in the US, there's daughter-father jokes, whee the SIL is never good enough for Daddy's little girl? In France, it's the opposite...Mom and son have an almost incestuous thing going...and it wasn't just in my case, it's all over the place here.

She kept writing these letters...'I can't sleep anywhere but in your room, since you've gone and married her', 'I have cancer', 'I have cholesterol', 'she's going to kill Keoni, because she doesn't know that, in France, there are killer air currents', (the French have this thing about air currents, you know...what we call breezes), and the last straw one one, 'she's going to have a mongoloid baby' (it was a problem pregnancy, I was on total bedrest)(Keala doesn't have Down's Syndrome).

Thinking back on it, I shoulda' been warned off by the very first letter, the one she wrote when she first met me. She wrote, 'Akk! The girl is foreign, doesn't speak French, is uneducated, has no money of her own, and she's not exactly skinny, either'. I said to my fiancé-at-the-time, 'well, at least I'm not a black single mom' (no offense intended to any black/single moms out there)....and he replied 'well, and you're not another man, either'. All I have to say for myself is that love is blind. I shoulda listened to the little warning bells in my head, right then.

He did tell me, much later, that he only married me to get back at the woman, because she 'lost' the paperwork that would've enabled him to study engineering (so he's a French engineer) in the US, and he swore to marry an American for revenge. Gee thanks, pal. I was so dumb, back then.

So anyway, she writes the mogoloid letter, I refuse to abort, and he attacks me. We had houseguests at the time who saved my ass, and I left with the police and went to a refuge for battered women and children, taking Keoni with me, of course.

It all happened on the day of my 35th birthday. I had trouble celebrating my birthday for years afterwards...especially since FF (the ex) would choose that day each year to take the kids for his part of the summer vacation (he still does that). A Scottish friend once told me to do as the Queen of England does, and change my birthday to another date.

Now....for anyone thinking of going abroad to marry...HERE'S WHERE YOU HAVE TO BE REAL CAREFUL....especially if you don't speak the language of the country you're in:

If you find yourself in a shelter or entrusted to the authorities, insist on a translator. Demand a translator. Otherwise, your spouse can say whatever he likes to the director or to the cops or to the social worker and nobody will ever hear you. And he can 'translate' for you and lie like a dog about what you've said. (no offence to dogs)

[SusieMisajon]

So, Susie...I've been afraid to ask, but...does the ex have much involvement in the children's lives? Is that why the French divorce laws keep you from coming home with them to stay - to give them the opportunity to have some connection with their father? Is that connection still a good thing for the kids' sake at least, despite how much he/the situation angers you?

And yes, "none of your business" IS an acceptable response to these questions...
What was the question, again, Leo?...I seem to have drifted a bit.. Oh yeah...involvement in the children's lives...

Wel, FF came to the shelter and asked to play with Keoni for the afternoon, so I said okay. And didn't see Keoni again for four months. He called me that evening and told me too bad, and the threats continued. Turns out the director knew what he was going to do, and couldn't talk him out of it and didn't warn stupidhead me. I was still on bedrest and ended up in the hospital.

In the end, Keala was born not mongol...my EX MIL was the first to call me as I returned from the delivery room, telling me that I was so lucky to have not had a handicapped baby at my age (35), blah, blah, blah...and me thinking to myself during the conversation 'watch out, Tita, or you'll end up in front of her roast chicken and greenbeans again'. And FF the ex trying to get the baby's name changed to Max (was that the Maxim man who he was such good 'friends' with, or the Maxime woman that he'd had an affair with?).

And, for a while, I had the kids during the week and FF had them on weekends. Oh, the threats and the nastiness were still there...but I learned to keep my head down and my mouth shut, as it was the kids that suffered if I didn't (not physically, but emotionally). And I knew what was going to happen, once they were big enough to feed and dress themselves on their own.

I decided to make sure that they had the best childhood imaginable, with all the good memories that they'd need to get through life. I bought a small forest with a tiny house in it, and we filled the place with raspberries, donkeys, ducks, ponies, chickens, goats, rabbits...you name it, we tried it out. There was a stream full of fish, a magic tree, a depot in the front full of mountains of dirt and rocks and adventure. Bikes, unicycles, ponycarts, treehouses, an old junker of a car that we never knew where we'd end up stuck with...

And then the kids got done with elementary school, and into 'big-kid' time. And I got a three year battle for custody. It was HELL. Just like that, a court date. All of us were in tears. Keoni says he'll never trust his Dad again. Keala, the most sensitive of the kids, turned into a hellion, almost a delinquent. Leilani crawled into a shell. Kalani has me a bit worried, as his hero is Keala, but he's still young.

French courts are no fun. French lawyers, the opposing side ones, are nasty...even the judge told FF the ex's off, he was being so rude...education, weight, and being foreign raise their heads yet again. I won the first part, but he appealed. Keala left before the hearing, telling me that Dad was rich, so he'd be okay....sheesh! All my teaching values to that kid, and this is what he comes up with?! Keoni went a few months later, also before the appeal hearing, saying that he was too fearful of the consequences if he didn't, but not to worry, as he'd soon be grown up.

FF the ex enjoyed my agony, he'd laugh and actally praise bad behavior. He'd call, or his mother would, and rub it in. There would be excuses for the kids not to come for the weekend. Keala was totally lost in the emotions of the mess. Keoni had a very bad year at school, with lower results than usual, and clammed up for a time. Weekends, when they did come, were often draining and violent and left the two little guys in shock.

The threats contine. I have learned to not go to my lawyer or to the police when the kids never show up for weekends, as it only causes trouble with Keoni and Keala...and gets social service visits for me... making good on his threats to get me lolo enough to lose even the little guys. Having to go in front of a judge to explain a letter of defamation from your ex is not a nice experience.

FF the ex even wrote a letter to my most awful neighbor, asking for all the poop on me...and she showed it to Keala, who was white in the face with shock. FF the ex did actually say that it may have been a mistake, because she called him 98 times...he says he understands now, how the concentration camps managed to get filled, during WW2, with women like that working for the enemy.

Looking back, I should've never fought the custody battle. It didn't help to drag it out so long...it only took away our family stability. It wasn't as if he hadn't been threatening it since day one of the divorce...telling me that he'd make the kids hate me and they'd never vist and I'd be lolo and lonely and poor....so what? I had the best years with the kids, the years before adolescence...when they were cute and sweet and listened to what I had to say. I'd have preferred to see the fruits of my labour and watch the emerging of the young adults day by day...but hey, if he wants teenagers...

Watching what's happening now...he is not enjoying those kids, he is just enjoying hurting me. Even his mother is regretting things, and is getting sick of the kids being dumped on her. The daily grind of responsibility is getting to him, and I am beginning to see the kids much more often. It hurts when they tell me that they don't brush their teeth and eat crap cereal and play on the computer instead of going out to play. And that their Dad just yells. And that Keala is as bad, if not worse, at his Dad's than with me.

But...I can't protect them forever, they'll have to figure out some things for themselves. I tell them to get an education in order to be able to escape their parents. And maybe I AM seeing some of the fruits of my labour, after all...Keala called to apologize for being such a shit, and he actually was nice and kind and funny the whole of the last visit. And we spoke of families and histories and growing up. Keoni is in a new school this year, an international one...he's seeing more of the world around him, and getting redy to fly off.

FF the ex is still plotting and hateful...but what's he gonna do to me, that he hasn't already done? Even my Mom, (benedict arnold that she was, inviting him to come to Hawaii with me, so that I could come for a visit and he could be sure that we got back on the plane) sees that he can be 'strange'. I believe she even told him off, the last time he tried to manipulate her.

The kids know what he's like. One of Keoni's friends was saying to him that he'll be 18 soon, and can escape...I had to remind them that Keoni's Dad will be pulling his strings until Keoni is out of school, and, as he wants to be a doctor, he might be stuck for a while past 18. Keoni knows that you can draw more flies with honey than with vinegar, and he's cool. And Keala is getting tired of being his Dad's hero...he's realized what that does to the rest of his family, and to himself...Keala will always be my most materialistic one, I'm afraid, but perhaps he'll get to the point where he can be proud of his own achievements and success.

I'm hoping that they'll be able to see both of their parents in a good light. Seeing who we are and why we did the things we did, and understand the frailities of the human emotional state. And see clearly that that which they lived has the opportunity to be used effectively and for good in their lives as the parents of my grandchildren. And forgive, in order to get on with their own lives.

[MadAzza]

Holy Mother of God, Susie. I feel so bad for you! And your poor kids, with all that evil from the other side.

Strength! (And a virtual hug.)

Aloha,
Maddie

P.S. Is there something from Hawaii you'd like to give your kids next time they visit? You can tell me here or PM me with your address/mailing instructions.

[SusieMisajon]

Leo certainly opened the floodgates, didn't he?!

No, Maddie, but thanks....my Mom sends lots of care packages. In fact, we have the most amazing collection of Aloha shirts, you can see them all over town...each time a package comes, the kids and all their friends divvy them up...and can always tell when the boys are in town, because there's the Aloha Shirt Solidarity Club... kids all over in town wearing Aloha shirts. Makes me laugh.

[SusieMisajon]

....I'm trying to get some pics in here...of French kids with Aloha shirts...

http://i9.photobucket.com/albums/a100/susiemisajon/Photo4091.jpg

http://i9.photobucket.com/albums/a100/susiemisajon/Photo4094.jpg

http://i9.photobucket.com/albums/a100/susiemisajon/Photo4089.jpg

[SusieMisajon]

Continued...

http://i9.photobucket.com/albums/a100/susiemisajon/Photo4093.jpg

http://i9.photobucket.com/albums/a100/susiemisajon/Photo4096.jpg


http://i9.photobucket.com/albums/a100/susiemisajon/mailfluffyhairredcheeks.jpg

[SusieMisajon]

http://i9.photobucket.com/albums/a100/susiemisajon/Photo4095.jpg

[manoasurfer123]

Cute kids Susie :)

My mom left my abusive father when I was 3-4 with 2 suitcases and me to leave California to move back home with her parents in Washington.

She did this as a necessity... for not only herself...but for me.
She didn't get the paperwork finalized for her divorce until long after she got away from him... (and yes he did kidnap me also at one point during the whole divorce proceedings)

I hope you are able to find a way home with your kids soon enough...

No man is worth what it seems like you are being put through...Even though your kids may love him...the abuse that they see him put you through will be harmful in the long run.

Manoa

[blueyecicle]

How cute are your kids???? Susie...Beautiful! What a mess with your ex, I am sorry :( Kids deserve so much more than that...sometimes you just can't protect them from it all but they are blessed you are trying.
They are truly blessed.

[admin]

Just a friendly reminder that Susie has posted details about an ongoing legal dispute in another country, and is of course only presenting one side of the case. While we all sympathize with the stress and difficulties she's experienced, I hope we can refrain from demonizing or attacking her ex-husband or family... especially since heaven knows what French law would have to say about material published on the web.

Susie, we recognize that you are fearless and post under your real name. But I do encourage caution. If your children are still the subject of a custodial dispute, I'd be careful about oversharing or posting personal photos. If there's anything HawaiiThreads can teach you, it's that you never know what kind of nuts there are out there! :p

[SusieMisajon]

Thank you. What you say is true.

Actually, the only thing that concerns me is the kids...if they knew that I was telling their stories on the web....!!!How cute are your kids???? Susie...Beautiful! What a mess with your ex, I am sorry :( Kids deserve so much more than that...sometimes you just can't protect them from it all but they are blessed you are trying.
They are truly blessed.
Some of those are mine, and some are members of the Aloha Shirt Solidarity Club.

[manoasurfer123]

susie -

your kids can easily find HT by just typing in your name without a space...

Google it yourself... and kids are very intuitive and know more about computers then their parents often think.

[SusieMisajon]

susie -

your kids can easily find HT by just typing in your name without a space...

Google it yourself... and kids are very intuitive and know more about computers then their parents often think.
They are more interested in music and mopeds and their friends than what their old fut Mom does. They can't believe that I would actually communicate with strangers (even ones from Hawaii), and consider myself friends with people that I meet on the web. I guess that they've been taught the dangers better than I have.

But thanks for the advice. One day, when they have grown up and realize that Moms are not so dumbass uncool backwards as they seem, perhaps I'll show them this.

[SusieMisajon]

I have these neighbors, an older couple who I'll call Jules and Josette (the names have been changed to protect the guilty). They are in their seventies, and have been married for about fifty years. No kids, as Josette has had quite a few miscarriages, but Jules has an offspring, born to a mistress, from the time during the early years of his marriage.

Josette doesn't allow Jules to see or have contact with this person. Josette doesn't sleep in the same bed as Jules anymore, either...and hasn't for about forty years. How do I know this? Because Jules told me, many years ago, while sitting and chatting in the little park that's just in front of my house. I did think to myself, as he was speaking about it, "Why on earth do I want to know this?"...but then, I can be pretty naive, looking back, and the conversation took place about ten years ago.

This tiny little park used to be quite the place for neighborhood gossip. Back when I first came to the town, almost fifteen years ago, it was the place where the little old ladies of this part of town hung out. I called it 'La Club de l'Apres Midi'. They'd come each afternoon, after the lunch and their housework was done, to sit in the shade under the what was then a plum tree but has been replaced by a mulberry tree.

They would just sit on the bench and speak of ordinary things...Claudette would talk about the potatoes she's cooked for lunch, Josette would tell about things she found as she cleaning the cinema after a film, and Madeline would talk about, well...she'd just talk...at the time, she was beginning to suffer the effects of dementia, but nobody realized it back then.

Mostly it was the ladies that would sit and talk, but sometimes, if Josette wasn't there, Jules would come and have a chat, too. Josette wouldn't come on the days she had a black eye, so Jules replaced her on those days. Jules had been a Gendarme for the whole of his working life...that's our version of the cops, 'Gendarme' translates into 'armed men', and are a branch of the French Military. Back when Jules was on active duty, PC was an unknown term, and the Gendarmes had pretty much a free hand, to rule as they best could, or would. I guess that's where the Jules got it from. I guess, anyway.

I learned most of my French 'big words' (swear words) from Jules and Josette. Our houses are not all that far apart, on a small cobbled narrow lane, with three and four story houses made of stone lined up one next to another, sometimes with just teensy, shoulder-wide alleyways between them. Most of the houses are between two and three hundred years old, and the difference in ages and styles makes the lane look like a pretty, although grey, patchwork quilt. The canyons of the town serve to amplify sounds, especially during the summer when wooden shutters and windows are left open.

So, when Jules and Josette are going at it, with bangs and shrieks and china and furniture being thrown about, we can pretty much hear the whole show. Josette puts on her 'victim' voice and really goes to town...the muffled yells, with 'HELP!' escaping from between Jules' fingers, the big, big swear words, from both of them equally, the 'fight to the finish' noises coming from their house...even the tourists have been known to stop and stare, or go as far as to call the cops or run to the Mayors' office for help. Sometimes the man from the Mayors' office comes and tells them to tone it down, and it stays quieter for a time, but that never lasts.

They are pretty regular...each day at seven in the morning, then again at about eleven, and then sometimes, but not always, at around four in the afternoon. Year in and year out. Kalani, my youngest son, (the one with a very sharp sense of wit), was woken one morning by the goings-on, and said to me, "Mom, time to get up, tha alarm's ringing!". He is a very funny boy (but he hates when I repeat that story).

A while back, I was passing in front of their house when the Gendarmes were outside. The senior Gendarme asked me if I'd seen Jules recently. So I said to him that perhaps Josette had finally had enough and maybe they should check the freezer. haha! The look on the Gendarme's face was enough to keep me laughing to myself for days!

I did ask Jules, long ago, what the hell was it all about? He said that Josette was deaf. ?! Oh. Just last week, we were passing on the lane, him on his bike and me dragging groceries from the car, when we stopped to pass the time of day. I asked him again, and told him that my kids were wondering why they stayed together, and that I'd explained to the kids that back in those days, people got married for forever, and divorce wasn't just something to be taken lightly. Joe's response was that they were each waiting for the other one to die, as he'd actually been to a lawyer and had been told that he risked losing too much, were he to divorce after all these years.

So, as the old ones seem to last in this town, I guess we're in for a while more.

[SusieMisajon]

We used to have these other funny neighbors. That was Dominique and Pierre. They taught me how to kill and cut up a pig, and how to make bacon and ham from it. We had to do the pig on Friday evenings, though, as it's no longer allowed to kill large anmals at home, even for personnal consuption. You can still kill a rabbit or a chicken at home, but not a pig or a sheep or anything bigger than that.

Of course, everybody still does kill their animals at home...you just have to be careful of how you do it, hence the Friday evening time slot. The Gendarmes aren't going to come out and bust you on a Friday night, and they'll leave you be for the whole of the weekend job of butchering, too. And that does take some time...kill the pig, scrape the hair off, cut it open, hang it up high overnight from the lift of the tractor so that the cats won't nibble on it...or the rats. Scraping and washing out the poop in the guts, for use as sausage casings. Casings can be bought, clean and dry in salt and ready to be soaked and used, but why spend the money for that, when you have all the famiy, neighbors, and outlying relatives to help do the shitwork?

It depends on who you are as well, if you want to do home slaughter. The Gendarmes will turn a blind eye if you are local born and bred. And white. But, if you happen to be a Muslim planning a barbecue to celebrate the end of Ramadam, it might be better to buy your sheep already dead and ready for the coals. Because you can be sure that the Gendarmes will wait til the deed is done and the meat has been perfectly prepared before busting you, slapping you with a hefty fine, confiscating the meat, and then having their own barbecue. Gendarmes could give a hoot about whether the meat has been blessed before slaughter or stuck with a knife and bled to death, they'll enjoy each and every bite of your hard work, and make jokes besides.

Going over to Domi and Pierre's house was always interesting. If their daughter, Luci, was home from University, she could be found in a chair, sucking her thumb and cradleing a doll. Or rather, what was left of a doll. Mostly just a part of the skull was left, after years and years of being rubbed and fondled down to just the bit where the hair goes into those little holes in the skull. Remember those dolls? Rows and rows of tiny, evenl-spaced holes in hard plastic, with a few hairs stuck into each hole. They don't make em like that, anymore. Today's disturbed young person wouldn't have anything left of a doll by the time they were 21. Good thing thumbs are still well made.

Luci never said much, unless she was screaming at her mother. And her Mother never said much, either, unless she was screaming at Pierre. I only remember Pierre saying something one time. He said to Lucy, "Come and suck me off." At that time, I didn't speak or understand too much of the French language, but I did understand that phrase...I mean, I'd been a married woman and all.

Discretion being the better part of valor, I though to just play the villiage idiot, and pretend that I hadn't heard or understood. What else could I have done? But my head was in a spin, I can tell you! And I understood perfectly well the screaming and the fighting that Pierre's remark caused, too. What an uproar! Domi screamed that they'd all be in hot water if that sort of stuff left the house. Luci screamed at Domi. Pierre went upstairs and slammed all the doors along the way. Then Domi went back to serving me a cup of coffee and all was as calm as before. I drank the coffee, made my excuses, and left as soon as I could.

After that Domi never came around for about a month. She'd been coming by every day. She must have been scared, or suffering, or both...because for her to not come by to see what she could borrow or beg or steal was unusual. Domi is a kleptomaniac. I figure that it's a sick, and has come to her from stress, as she has one daughter who is a streetwalker, one son who'd been killed by a hit-and-run while he was in the army...it seems that the driver was looking to kill a soldier, any soldier, Luci and her problems, one other wierd son, and one son who married a girl like good ole' Mom... she sucks her thumb. Did I tell you that Domi sucks her thumb, too? And wets the bed...but I don't know if any of the others do.

Domi couldn't stay away forever, so things got back to somewhat normal. She'd come by and I'd watch her like a hawk. If she borrowed something I'd have to make a sure that she dodn't 'forget' to return it. The doors would have to be secured each time I went out. If I was at the quiltshop teaching patchwork and Domi 'happened' to pass by the window, I'd have to excuse myself and rush home to chase her off of my property, where she'd be, thinking that I was otherwise occupied.

Christmastime came by, and we decorated our tree. In our family, we have a tradition, we make our own ornaments, adding new ones each year. Ivana, Domi's granddaughter, who lived with Domi and Pierre because her mom was too busy being a streetwalker to take care of her, came by to join in the fun. And then we were invited back to their house to help them set up their tree...I guess that Domi had thought enough time had passed after the 'suck me off' incident to be safe. I did, too.

Their family had a fake tree, made of plastic with a metal frame. It had been stored in it's narrow box for the year, and had to be set up and the branches pulled and tugged into shape so that it would look more like a tree and less like a squished bunch of plastic rolled up. Domi took the thing out of the box and set it on the stand and began to work on the branches. Ivana chimed in, "It's me, it's me that gets to spread the legs of the Christmas tree!".

Now...I ask you...is this the normal expression of speech for what we were doing to that Christmas tree? Is this a normal thing for a seven year old to say? Especially in that house with those people? I might have given her the benefit of the doubt...except for the darting glance that I got from Domi. It was all in the look in Domi's eyes. Was Ivana going to be doomed to the same fate as the others? For me, it was not a very merry Christmas.

I never saw very much of Domi after that, except for the occasional times that I had to chase her out of the barn. She'd actually worn a path through the woods going there the back way so often. That's okay, it's only stuff.

My standing in town suffered for awhile, because of some strange stories that were told about my lifestle. That's okay, consider the source. The people that take the time to know me know who I am. And I see Ivana sometimes, going into the Children's Mental Health Unit, so I guess that she's getting some help.

[SusieMisajon]

In case you're wondering about those two last posts...somebody had asked me to write about life over here, so I did. I didn' want to re-write the stories, but I did want to share them with you. I hope that this copying was the PC thing to do.

[Pua'i Mana'o]

I have an ignorant question to ask, but allow me it, ok?

How much of a democratic country is France? Is the countryside besotted with country justice? Does the local media have any power to report corruptive practices? Is there a good enough layer of govt/social services? Because your last two posts were as criminal as anything is. I am wigged out.

[SusieMisajon]

I have an ignorant question to ask, but allow me it, ok?

How much of a democratic country is France? Is the countryside besotted with country justice? Does the local media have any power to report corruptive practices? Is there a good enough layer of govt/social services? Because your last two posts were as criminal as anything is. I am wigged out.
Country justice? Is that the kind where it depends on your surname or a cousin or strings to get justice? Cause that's how it is.

There is no local media. Well...maybe there is, but their bread is buttered by the 'country justice' system, and the're not gonna bite the hand that feeds them.

Social services can help, as I'm sure that they have for Ivana...but only stupid Haoles like me rock the boat.

Sometimes I need all my sense of humour and perspective running at full speed to keep sane.

[Leo Lakio]

How much of a democratic country is France? Is the countryside besotted with country justice? Does the local media have any power to report corruptive practices? Is there a good enough layer of govt/social services? Because your last two posts were as criminal as anything is. I am wigged out.Keep in mind, however, that "country justice" is quite different than what many of us are used to. Are there not places in Hawai`i where locals take care of troublemakers in a fashion where it is not necessary to involve the police (by totally non-criminal means, of course)?

Not to justify what sounds like some mighty unhealthy behaviors, but remember that we are viewing these tales though our own filters of morality, and just as we can take the "don't tell us how we should do things here in Hawai`i" tack with some postings, it could be argued that we have no place telling them how to do things in a French country village. Despite all her time and efforts, there is only so much Susie can do, because she will always be an outsider - malihini, if you like - to those folks; and as such, is limited in her influence and power to affect change. Depending on how much she sticks her neck out to help someone she feels is being wronged, she (and her children) have to live with the consequences.

[Pua'i Mana'o]

I get that Leo. Mahalo, however, for the reminder about ethnocentrism, because it was good to read it.

[manoasurfer123]

some things I've learned in just the last few minutes:
Research indicates that at least 7 percent of the 30.1 million women living in France are victims of domestic violence each year. This is likely a conservative estimate, however, as many women feel they cannot come forward and thus do not report the violence they experience. The national domestic violence hotline is one of the only sources of statistics on violence within the immigrant population. More than 20 percent of the women who called this toll-free number in 1999 were foreign-born
Certain socioeconomic conditions render immigrant women particularly vulnerable to domestic violence. First, many immigrants in France come from Islamic countries, particularly Algeria, Morocco, and Tunisia. Gender inequalities in these countries are institutionalized through Muslim tradition and personal
status laws. Domestic violence has been explained as the manifestation of unequal power relationships between men and women: thus, patriarchal relationships are directly linked to violence. One should not expect that immigrants would leave all of their cultural mores and traditions behind when they enter France. The belief that women provoke violence and deserve to be beaten is transmitted across generations, as women themselves come to believe they are at fault.
Additionally, immigrant women in France are often extremely isolated. The majority lack competency in the French language: 57 percent of Algerian women (versus 16 percent of Algerian men) and 65 percent of Moroccan and Tunisian women (versus 40 percent of Moroccan and Tunisian men) do not speak French.
Immigrant women also suffer disproportionately high rates of unemployment: 42.1 percent of Maghrebi women are unemployed (in contrast to only 21.9 percent of Maghrebi men). These factors play a significant role with respect to domestic violence. Unemployed women who speak little French are less likely to leave
abusive husbands, because their conditions render independence difficult.
and much more
http://www.sosfemmes.com/english_domestic_violence/domestic_violence_immigrant_women.htm

[SusieMisajon]

Keep in mind, however, that "country justice" is quite different than what many of us are used to. Are there not places in Hawai`i where locals take care of troublemakers in a fashion where it is not necessary to involve the police (by totally non-criminal means, of course)?

Not to justify what sounds like some mighty unhealthy behaviors, but remember that we are viewing these tales though our own filters of morality, and just as we can take the "don't tell us how we should do things here in Hawai`i" tack with some postings, it could be argued that we have no place telling them how to do things in a French country village. Despite all her time and efforts, there is only so much Susie can do, because she will always be an outsider - malihini, if you like - to those folks; and as such, is limited in her influence and power to affect change. Depending on how much she sticks her neck out to help someone she feels is being wronged, she (and her children) have to live with the consequences.
You said a mouthful, Leo. In towns such as this one, you have to live with the consequences of your actions....especially if you are a dumb Haole Malihini.

There are times when I see that places in Hawaii are kind of the same...like in Hilo, where you can't get into the ginger root selling 'club' unless you're part of the gang. And the story about a poor Haole celery grower, with perfect bunches of celery that were never passed by the inspectors...nevermind, that was twenty years ago...we all have cousins and uncles and friends that have helped us, right?

But the locals here do not 'take care' of troublemakers. Ain't no beeg Samoans that 'help out' with some ToughLoveLessons over here. It just doesn't happen, even within the family units. It's as if it were an open secret. Nothing can be hidden in this place, but nothing is ever done. Rather than try to help or solve a problem, the problem just ...is. And going to the authorities about anything is a BIG no-no.

I've often wondered about why that is.

Going to the authorities isn't done because the authorities are not from here, not local-kine. This place is kind of like the Hatfields and McCoys, or the hillbillies in the woods. All feuds and inbreeding. Each man for himself, and damned be anyone else. The Gendarmes here had a hell of a time trying to figure out who trashed and burned my house a few years back. In the end it was me that did the snooping and it was the kids and I who came up with the culrpits...cause my kids are from here, and people talked.

I'm wondering how much the trials and tribulation of the second world war, and after, had to do with it. This town was split in half during WW2..half occupied by the Germans, and half Free France....and loads of horror stories to go with the occupation. Maybe it was back then that they learned to keep silent? I haven't quite got my finger on it, yet.

I'll never figure these people out, and I am ever feeling like the square peg in the round hole, but the stories are there, and they help me to see the flow and continuation of society and life here. I try to see them from an objective angle, or at leat a human one...being as I'm not from here and sometimes don't see the depths of the undercurrents.

[Pua'i Mana'o]

Susie, what will you do when your children are grown? May I ask what your long term plans are, if you have any? Has France grown on you? Are you a citizen of that country?

[Leo Lakio]

I'm wondering how much the trials and tribulation of the second world war, and after, had to do with it. This town was split in half during WW2..half occupied by the Germans, and half Free France....and loads of horror stories to go with the occupation. Maybe it was back then that they learned to keep silent? I haven't quite got my finger on it, yet.Whoa - you may have hit a big clue with this. When you're telling tales of couples in their seventies, for example, they were children at the time - and likely VERY influenced by the Vichy France circumstances. Children of wartime, in a split community = some pretty big sh!t to deal with.

[SusieMisajon]

Susie, what will you do when your children are grown? May I ask what your long term plans are, if you have any? Has France grown on you? Are you a citizen of that country?
If I look at it realistically, I'll stay til I die. My kids are from here, and they'll probably make their lives here, and my grandchildren will be here. I want to see my grandchildren grow up...my own Mom comes only every two years or so, and her Mom only got to see us the few times we went back to Germany. I'd hate to continue that family tradition.

I can understand better how the 'picture brides' must have felt. Or the immigrants that made up so much of Hawaii's history...and that was in the days way before telephones, jets, and internet.

But then, I'm the mother of still young kids. I'd like to dream that they'll immigrate to Hawaii....

Is there life after children?

On the other hand...I was putting away the bikes the other evening and looked at the houses in the lane, and thought to myself, "I'm not really going to spend the rest of my days in the place, am I?".

Parts of it have grown on me, yes. But Hawaii is still there, as deep and as strong as ever. I never have been an American citizen. My Mom had me before she was married and then she married and I was adopted as a Misajon, but they never got around to finishing the paperwork (or telling me...for years I thought that I just looked Haole). I'm a resident alien (haha, it seems that way no matter where I live!), and I THINK that my greencard is still good....maybe not, after all, I did marry the 'enemy'....but we married and divorced long befor 9/11.

sigh. The answer is: I dunno.

[Leo Lakio]

A country unto yourself: Susieslovakia, perhaps?

[SusieMisajon]

A country unto yourself: Susieslovakia, perhaps?
Did I tell you that, when we lived on the little farm, I named it 'Fu*k Off Acres'? For realz!

[Leo Lakio]

Did I tell you that, when we lived on the little farm, I named it 'Fu*k Off Acres'? For realz!That's the kind of attitude that will help you survive whatever merde gets flung your way! :D

[SusieMisajon]

I try to be a good neighbor, really I do. But, sometimes, things just get to a point when you can't stand it anymore, and something has got to be done. That's what happened with my neighbor, Hans...who really should be called 'Hands' for his ever-gopeing ways, when he is around a woman, any woman.

For an old geezer, Hans is pretty agile, especially when it came to the opposite sex. One has to be forever dodging both his hands and his innuendos. He's always turning the least little thing around to be of sexual conotations, and pawing and panting and actually drooling, when in the presence of anything female.

Of course, he's also one of the richest old geezers in the town as well, so perhaps that helps his chances along a bit. Not that it would help him during the actual act...I have it on good authority from Maggie (a poor single mother with refined tastes and aspirations), who had a go, thinking to get herself set up. Maggie's only comment, when asked how it went, was, "Meme pas penetrée!". And Hans has a reputaion for having a hedgehog in his pocket, which is to say that each time he reaches into his pocket, he get poked by the hedgehog's spines, and pulls out his hand too fast to get any of the cash that's at the bottom. Maggie didn't last too long.

None of them do, in fact...although there is always certain to be a petite, well dressed, well kept woman of a certain age hanging on Hans' arm at any social gathering of local ex-pats, it is an ever-changing woman. And one has to be adept at learning the new one's name, and and making smalltalk with her while not recalling any previous conquests or anecdotes of.

I'm not sure that Hans was happy to see me moving in as his new neighbor. Me, four little kids, goats, ponies, donkeys, and all the rest did change his quiet neighborhood somewhat. But it wasn't for the noise, as he's mostly deaf, and has his hearing aids turned off, anyway. It couldn't have been for the animals, although some of them did, from time to time, get into his garden...not that they made a mess, or destroyed any plants, mind you...and I did bring over eggs, goat's milk cheese, legs of lamb, and sides of bacon. Maybe it was the kids...Hans hates kids, he even specifies not to bring them to his parties or dinners...but even that seemed to be okay, and one of his ladies was being the piano teacher for the boys, until there were just too many complaints about doors being slamed, hair being pulled, screaming and tantrums...but the boys have another piano teacher now, and this new teacher doesn't do anything like that, and is quite calm, really.

It wasn't as if I were The Neighbor From Hell. I did try my best. But I did do something that might not have been exactly kosher. In my defense, however, I have to say that I was mightily provoked. It was at the time just before Hans had the fence put up between our two properties....

You see...I had a lot of chickens. Chickens are great for eggs and meat and a farm-raised organic chicken is always a useful bartering tool, for when the car breaks down or a tree falls on the road, or a leak needs fixing. And each chicken has an individual personality and character, so when the time comes to kill them it can be really difficult to choose which one is gong to go into the pot, especially if you've given them cute little names, and watched them grow up or hatched them yourself in the incubator. In fact, the best way to get over that problem is to buy or raise even more chickens, so that one more or less won't be missed.

And that's what I did. I accepted half a dozen more grown laying hens from a little old lady who goes every year up to Paris at Christmastime, in order to visit her daughter. She stays for six weeks, so there really isn't anybody willing to take care of her birds for all that time, and she had gotten into the habit of giving the birds away each winter and starting with fresh birds each spring. She didn't have the heart to kill them, but I did...and I traded her the hens for young birds every springtime, with eggs in between.

Chickens don't take too well to having new friends. In fact, chickens won't even let new friends sleep over or lay eggs in shared nests. Sometimes chickens will beat up on other chickens that have been introduced into their cluck-clique, and the newbies have to go elsewhere to find a space of their own.

And that's just what those new chickens did, too. They went straight over to Hans' garage and made themselves at home. I didn't notice. I was too busy with the rest of the gang. But I still was being a good neighbor, and brought a dozen eggs and some garden produce over to Hans each week, which he always accepted with a big smile, and a laugh. Nevermind, I thought to myself, some pople are stranger than others. Live and let live.

Until the day I noticed that the hens were over there. And, on closer inspection, noticed a nice nestbox, complete with one marked egg...marked 'hard boiled'. Grrr! The nerve of that guy! Why didn't he just tell me...he could've kept the hens and the eggs, I didn't mind...but to continue to accept eggs from me all the while, to boot! I had to think about some way to solve this.

As luck would have it, the Gendarmes happened to pass by on patrol and stopped to pass the time of day. I mentioned the nest and the eggs and asked for advice. They said just not to poison the eggs. Great. I had to think of something that would do the trick without too much humbug.

If you know about chickens, then you'll know that they do most of their pooping, about 75%, during the night, when they are asleep. And you'll know, too, that anybody can do anything with a sleeping chicken...they just hum gently and dream away, and stay sound asleep, it's impossible to wake them unless you happen to turn on the lights.

So, that night, the kids and I put thirty chickens into Hans' car. This was easy to do, as he had, still has even to this day, an open jeep-like car...somewhat like a French version of that old Volkswagon 'Thing'. We perched them all over..the steering wheel, the seats, the open edges (butts inward), even the gearshift. And then we went to bed. That old bugger wants chickens, I'll give him chickens!

The next morning I made a point to be in the garden from daybreak. The chickens had come back home at dawn, leaving the car to go and look for worms and bugs in the small forest nearby. Hans came out of his house and got into his car and got as far as backing it up a few meters before jumping back out. I sat quietly in my garden and watched as he emptied the nestbox, broke it into little pieces, burned it, and then made an inspection of his garage, looking for any bits of feathers or hidden eggs. He then went back into his house, presumbly to call the Gendarmes.

Sure enough, the Gendarmes showed up a few minutes later. I was still sitting quietly in my garden, just waiting. After a few minutes of conversation with Hans, one of the Gendarmes peered into my garden, spotted me, and crooked his finger at me, "Come on over here, Susie". Well, so I did.

When I got to where everybody was, next to the very shat-upon, and in, car...the Gendarmes (trying, but not quite succeeding, to keep a straight face) asked me what was going on. I replied that it seemed the chickens were just being chickens, because, as chickens are wont to do, they tend to sleep where they lay. And as they had been doing their laying in Hans' garage... And then the Gendarme asked Hans what he had done with the nest and the eggs that had been there the day before! Years ago, that was, and I still laugh when I think of the look on Hans' face!

In the end, the Gendarmes said that since it had been my chickens, it would be up to me to clean up after them. And so I did. I dumped thirty two buckets of hot soapy water into the car, and called it a day.

And I had a full case of 360 eggs delivered to Hans' house the next day. Here you go, Hans, have some eggs!

[Leo Lakio]

When you come out of your shell, Susie, then the hard-boiled neighbors egging you on had best beware - or the yolk will be on them. You ain't the type to let this stuff go over easy, is you? Omelet-tin' you know what my scrambled brain thinks, is all.

But un oeuf is enough ... :rolleyes:

[manoasurfer123]

nothing like a good cock fight :rolleyes:

[jdub]

But un oeuf is enough ... :rolleyes:


ugh...and i mean that in the best possible way...

[SusieMisajon]

We had a suicide here, a few years back. Suicides are not that uncommon, this is a town with ordinary depressed, drunk, divorced, cheating, insecure, ill, and poor people, just like any other small town. Not to say that it's only these kinds of problems that makes someone consider, or commit, suicide. I imagine, never having been seriously in any kind of suicidal frame of mind, that whatever it is that triggers or finishes the act is between the person and their maker.

What made this suicide so unusual is in the somewhat spectacular way it was done. Don't get me wrong...any suicide is a big deal, especially to the loved (or unloved) ones left behind. It does seem that suicides tend to go into two separate camps. There are the ones that simply want out, and go about it in a no-nonsense fashion designed to get it over and done with. And then, there are the ones that seem to use the effects of their suicide to further the pain for the ones left behind. A nasty sort of fringe benefit, you might say.

Mr. DuCamp's suicide was most certainly of the second camp. It is still spoken of to this very day. I imagined that he planned it, and its repercussions, down to the last, most intimate detail. It seems such a shame that he didn't stop to think of the innocent people that were bound to be touched by his act, as well. Maybe too, had he thought it out a bit more clearly and with less emotion in the heat of the moment, he would've not done such a thing, saving all of us...family and community alike...such awful memories, such awful wonderings about the pained heart and mind of the hurt individual.

This is a small town, just one up from a village, really. The thing that saves us is the market day, when farmers from all around come with their produce to sell in the town square, right by the fountain with the stone carving of the wild boar who, history has it, it the reason that the town is even here. It seems that hunters were chasing a wounded boar through a marsh, when the boar dropped dead. When the hunters caught up to the animal, they noticed that the boar had salt chrystals on it's whiskers. Back then, salt was one of the only ways to preserve food, making it a very valuable thing, indeed. There have been humans in the area, boiling down the salty marsh water to make rock salt, since the Bronze Age...so perhaps the story is more than a legend, perhaps it has a grain of truth to it.

Because of the salt, and the value of it, the town became quite rich. And well known for it's hot saltwater cures, bringing curists from all over Europe to take the waters. Local loththarios made it a custom to meet eligible female curists at the train station and romance them for the duration of their three-week stay, a custom that still holds to this day. Many people stayed on and began to intermarry with the townsfolk. This created a big problem for the Town Fathers, as the revenue from the salt was being diluted. Their money was being menaced! Steps would have to be taken to protect their salt heritage and birthright!

You have to understand...the town is in a little, almost hidden, valley, just at the beginnings of the Pyrenees foothills. Centuries had passed without too much interference from outsiders. The salt was their salvation, and the basis of their economy...but it was mostly taken away to be traded. Even the famous 'Bayonne Ham' was, in reality, from the town's salt. Bayonne, half a hundred kilometers away, just happened to be the port that the ham went from on it's journey to the four corners of the earth.

The Town Fathers, seeing this revenue beginning to slip out from under their grasp, made a few resolutions. It was declared that the annual dividing up of the cash...called, I kid you not, 'The Sauce'...would have certain stipulations attatched to it. A beneficiary had to be the issue of a proper marriage, and not be born out of wedlock. Only the firstborn son could inherit salt rights. Only persons born within the actual town could claim salt rights. And so on and so forth.

These resolutions had the effect of not only making the townsfolk even more wary of anything but the merest trade with outsiders, it also made them change their matrimonial habits somewhat. There were at that time, many, many incidences of 'Mariages Blancs'....White Marriages...that is to say marriages that were never intended to be consummated, marriages on paper only, often between partners of incredible age gaps, sometimes the differences being fifty years or more. One can still go into many of the big, older houses in town and marvel at the separate chambers for each marriage partner, with the formal receiving rooms communal, and the living quarters apart. Some even have separate wings for two sets of servants.

It seems the townsfolk have followed in the tradition of this 'protectionism' ever since. Outsiders are looked upon with wary eyes, and seldom brought legally into the family folds. Marrying a first cousin is not unheard of. The telephone directory has about thirty family names, an amazing thing, really, for a town of more than five thousand people. Everyone knows everyone.

And, depending on your family name, you might be able to more easily get a good job, a loan, a place in the local political scene...or an invitation to join the volunteer Fire Department. All the firemen have local names, and have grown up here, and their fathers and grandfathers and great-grandfathers have been firemen before them. Mr. DuCamp was a fireman, too. And so was his wife's father. And so was his wife's lover. And so was his wife's lover's father.

So, when Mr. DuCamp decided to commit suicide because his wife was having an affair and was planning on leaving him, he must've thought long and hard about all of this. He did the deed with a locked car, an opened thirteen kilo propane gas bottle, and a match...therefore, you could say that he was serious about things.

But he did it when he was damned sure that his wife's lover would be one of the firemen on call, one of the people responding to the explosion and the fire. As I said, everybody here knows everybody else. And their business. And the car they drive. Can you just imagine the scene at the site, with the entire team of firemen there, including Mr. DuCamp's wife's lover? What would the others have said? "Hey, Marcel...this one's yours!"?

[MadAzza]

I try to be a good neighbor, really I do. But, sometimes, things just get to a point when you can't stand it anymore, and something has got to be done.

*Your* chickens invaded *his* property, and you filled *his* car with chicken shit? Are you kidding?

Good thing you're not my neighbor. Who needs all that pointless hostility?

[SusieMisajon]

*Your* chickens invaded *his* property, and you filled *his* car with chicken shit? Are you kidding?

Good thing you're not my neighbor. Who needs all that pointless hostility?
No Maddie, there was no hostility...neither of us minded the chickens being at his house, or him keeping the eggs. What I minded was that he continued to accept me coming over and giving him even more eggs, and not telling me that he's already solved his egg problem.

[blueyecicle]

Hi Susie, I was speaking to my brother in Germany yesterday and he told me it is very diffficult to buy a home there because you have to pay it off in 10 years or less or have 50% down. I googled it and couldn't find information...do you happen to know if he is full of it??
I know you are I France but I would assume some of the basics apply there too.

[manoasurfer123]

Hi Susie, I was speaking to my brother in Germany yesterday and he told me it is very diffficult to buy a home there because you have to pay it off in 10 years or less or have 50% down. I googled it and couldn't find information...do you happen to know if he is full of it??
I know you are I France but I would assume some of the basics apply there too.
ok pinkeycicle... you get it this time;)

Hey... since you live in Oregon...and that's on the Mainland... In the United States... You think you could tell me where I could get a good bottle of Quervo in Mexico since in Oregon theres no sales tax on things;)

The fact you would believe susie who doesn't even live in Germany over your own Brother who does live there speaks about your trust for your brother!

[blueyecicle]

ok pinkeycicle... you get it this time;)

Hey... since you live in Oregon...and that's on the Mainland... In the United States... You think you could tell me where I could get a good bottle of Quervo in Mexico since in Oregon theres no sales tax on things

Oh, I know it's a stupid question but my brother is an idiot! I should have re-phrased it. He told me in France, Germany, and Italy it is the same. I just wanted to know and figured why not ask here. In the Hawaii thread!! LMBO

And yes I could tell you about tequila in Mexico...it just won't be good information! hehe:p

I must go hide now. :p

[manoasurfer123]

*Your* chickens invaded *his* property, and you filled *his* car with chicken shit? Are you kidding?

Good thing you're not my neighbor. Who needs all that pointless hostility?
Hey Maddie...

You know chicken manure is worth serious money to farmers!;)

But seriously susie... couldn't you have delivered it in a bag:eek:

AND DID ANYONE VIEW the video of her home town...it is hobbitville... (not an insult..but those that want a better idea...geez...she posted this herself) http://www.rogerhallett.com

[SusieMisajon]

Hi Susie, I was speaking to my brother in Germany yesterday and he told me it is very diffficult to buy a home there because you have to pay it off in 10 years or less or have 50% down. I googled it and couldn't find information...do you happen to know if he is full of it??
I know you are I France but I would assume some of the basics apply there too.
I'm not sure about Germany, but sometimes things in Britain are the same as here. We're not yet as 'together' as the United States, but there are tons and tons of rules that all of us in the European Community have to follow.

For house-buying in France, you usually need about ten percent down, and my own mortgage is a twenty year one. But I'm almost at the end, so maybe things are different nowadays...mine has five years left on the twenty years. I do know that in France (but not in Britain), you cannot take out the equity in your home and apply it to another mortgage, you have to pay off the original loan or take a loan bridge ($$!!!) if you want to change houses and have an existing mortgage.

I'm not sure, again, about German rules....but there are British people here who have bought houses in France with British loan companies. Maybe it pays to shop around?

The house market might be different in Germany. First of all, many Germans don't buy their own house until well into their forties (or at least, it used to be that way), and tend to rent til then. Britain has seen an explosion of high prices, and many Brits have sold up and come to live in the relatively cheaper France. I'm not sure if Brits go to Germany to buy...but maybe the Berlin Wall coming down and the reunification of east and west Germany and the opening up of Europe and the new member states has made a difference to German real estate habits and laws.

If you like, I can ask around and find more detail for you? I don't feel as if I've answered much for you.

[SusieMisajon]

Hey Maddie...

You know chicken manure is worth serious money to farmers!;)

But seriously susie... couldn't you have delivered it in a bag:eek:

AND DID ANYONE VIEW the video of her home town...it is hobbitville... (not an insult..but those that want a better idea...geez...she posted this herself) http://www.rogerhallett.com
And Roger took artistic licence with his painting...it's not nearly as big or as busy as it seems to be in the video.

[manoasurfer123]

My question to you susie...

What can you do to help your kids out of the pattern of abuse towards women that seems to be acceptable in France?

Do you want them to be like their father?

Serious questions need to be asked of yourself as your raising these beautiful kids. Who is watching them and what are they doing as you are posting so much on HT?

Just curious?

[anapuni808]

My question to you susie...

What can you do to help your kids out of the pattern of abuse towards women that seems to be acceptable in France?

Do you want them to be like their father?

Serious questions need to be asked of yourself as your raising these beautiful kids. Who is watching them and what are they doing as you are posting so much on HT?

Just curious?

Manoa - I'm sorry but this seems really rude and just way out of line - even for you. It's none of your business how Susie is raising her kids or how many times she posts to HT. and have you lived in France? How do you know what the norm is there for raising kids? For one thing - she doesn't post nearly as many times as you do. You are of "Ali`i" status - hers is only "Kumu" - I would think that shows YOU are wasting more time here than Susie.

:D

[manoasurfer123]

Manoa - I'm sorry but this seems really rude and just way out of line - even for you. It's none of your business how Susie is raising her kids or how many times she posts to HT. and have you lived in France? How do you know what the norm is there for raising kids? For one thing - she doesn't post nearly as many times as you do. You are of "Ali`i" status - hers is only "Kumu" - I would think that shows YOU are wasting more time here than Susie.

:D
anapuni..

did you read the entire thread...when you have...then please re-comment...

get off my back quick...cause I started this one....

ali'i kumu...etc... I could care less what HT status I have... that is the last thing I care about... if you have read through a lot of her posts... she sounds very sincere... and I wish her the best in life.
Hugs...

Manoa

[anapuni808]

Manoa - you are so cute when you're being sarcastic - I can always tell when you end your posts with "Hugs". :) Yes, I have been reading the entire thread - I happen to admire Susie for living in what seems to be a very difficult place and continuing on even though she seems to have no choice in the matter. Or, at least she chooses to stay to give her kids a stable environment in which to grow up. We have it pretty easy here, compared to where she is. Yes, she could make changes in her life - just as we all could. It's all a matter of choice. What might work for YOU may not be the same for her. So, trying to filter her lifestyle through YOUR lens doesn't really make much sense does it?

[SusieMisajon]

My question to you susie...

What can you do to help your kids out of the pattern of abuse towards women that seems to be acceptable in France?

Do you want them to be like their father?

Serious questions need to be asked of yourself as your raising these beautiful kids. Who is watching them and what are they doing as you are posting so much on HT?

Just curious?
Hey Manoa...

I can only turn on the computer when they are at school or asleep, or like right now, at a friend's house playing. If you think I talk alot on da computer....you ought to see me in real life!

On a seroius note...I am freaked out that they might find their fathere's behavior acceptable. Or his lifestyle.

The only thing I can think to do about that is to...talk. And show good examples. And try to help them to make sure that they get a good education so that they can escape if they want to or need to. And to give them the idea that they are not stuck in any place, or in any rut. And to look at people and watch them and think about why they do the things they do. And to see that you really do have to live with the consequences of your actions.

This is hard to balance, as I don't want to turn them off...my talking tends to do that, already....I want them to have some kind of solid-kine foundations. No need to be too much from a dysfunctional family.

I think it's working. They SEEM to be confident and, as the French say, 'happy in their skins'. There's ups and downs, sure...and I guess that teenagers are teenagers, no matter what. The sad part for me is that they'll grow up and fly away. I have to rememeber that that is the goal.

The questions you ask are in my head all day, every day. I do my best, talk til I'm blue in the face, try to give them the best opportunities and experiences possible, and fight to remember that I cannot protect them from everything but that I can teach them to protect themselves.

So...whatchu tink?

[MadAzza]

No Maddie, there was no hostility...neither of us minded the chickens being at his house, or him keeping the eggs. What I minded was that he continued to accept me coming over and giving him even more eggs, and not telling me that he's already solved his egg problem.

How can you say "there was no hostility"? You destroyed his car! What is vandalism if not hostility?

You say you didn't mind the chickens being at his house. But if you didn't mind the chickens being at his house, you wouldn't have vandalized his car.

This situation could have been handled with one sentence: "I know you are getting eggs from my former chickens that now live in your garage. Do you still want me to give you a dozen eggs every week, or are you getting enough eggs from the chickens in your garage?"

Instead, you chose to escalate a minor situation to an act of violence. You were lucky. If you had let your chickens crap all over my car, it would have been the last time you fucked with me. Not because I'd do anything even more stupid than you did, but because we would have had a conversation that would result in greater understanding. Or I would have pounded you. (OK, kidding!)

I just don't see the point in escalating a minor situation into a violent, rude, irrevocable act like filling someone's car with chicken shit, then throwing gallons of water into it to supposedly "clean" the car. You sound like a really shitty neighbor, frankly.

I'm wondering if you were perhaps diverting some of the hostility you felt toward a certain other person in your life toward someone who didn't really deserve it. OK, so he was using some of "your" eggs. Well, your stinky chickens were living in his garage! Did he fill your car with chicken poop because of it? He probably figured the eggs you gave him were the "rent" for your chickens living in and shitting in and shedding in and stinking up his garage.

I guess I just don't understand. Maybe something is lost in the telling. Maybe he did something really shitty to you before that. Neighbor relationships are funny that way ... some minor incident will set someone off. Perhaps that is the case here?

[SusieMisajon]

Maddie, you'd have to understand Hans. I guess I didn't do such a good job explaining about him...he doesn't like just plain directness, it bores him. To him, life is a chess game. He's old and he's rich, and he's been fortunate to have lived a very full life. He's retold and enjoyed that story more than I have over the years. I even get people I don't know asking me if I'm the person in the story and if it's true. And he's still put-putting around in that car.

Don't worry, I am generally a kind person, and wouldn't intentionally hurt someone...even if circumstances merited. I do, however, prefer to accomplish things with either a sense of humour, or finesse...or both.

[Leo Lakio]

Just as people on these boards OFTEN remind those of us who don't live in the Islands that we aren't in a position to challenge "how things are done in Hawai`i," we need to remember that those of us who don't live in a tiny country village in France may not be properly qualified to judge the actions and behaviors of those who do.

The lenses of our own experiences tend to distort our perspective.

[blueyecicle]

I'm not sure about Germany, but sometimes things in Britain are the same as here. We're not yet as 'together' as the United States, but there are tons and tons of rules that all of us in the European Community have to follow.

For house-buying in France, you usually need about ten percent down, and my own mortgage is a twenty year one. But I'm almost at the end, so maybe things are different nowadays...mine has five years left on the twenty years. I do know that in France (but not in Britain), you cannot take out the equity in your home and apply it to another mortgage, you have to pay off the original loan or take a loan bridge ($$!!!) if you want to change houses and have an existing mortgage.

I'm not sure, again, about German rules....but there are British people here who have bought houses in France with British loan companies. Maybe it pays to shop around?

The house market might be different in Germany. First of all, many Germans don't buy their own house until well into their forties (or at least, it used to be that way), and tend to rent til then. Britain has seen an explosion of high prices, and many Brits have sold up and come to live in the relatively cheaper France. I'm not sure if Brits go to Germany to buy...but maybe the Berlin Wall coming down and the reunification of east and west Germany and the opening up of Europe and the new member states has made a difference to German real estate habits and laws.

If you like, I can ask around and find more detail for you? I don't feel as if I've answered much for you.

No, no that's ok You really did answer very well. I thank you very much. I did not phrse my question well but basically that is exactly what I wanted to know. Thanks for taking the time to answer! :D

You know we have all these 100% loans and no money down and all that easy stuff here. So it is interesting that France doesn't do it the same way. I watch those Home Networks and some are in France/Germany...ect....like Househunters...and they always have to wait and save for years. So now I knwo why for sure!

[SusieMisajon]

No, no that's ok You really did answer very well. I thank you very much. I did not phrse my question well but basically that is exactly what I want