Aspirateur Sans Fil

25 juin 2010 vendredi

Perhaps my favorite memory of my time in Strasbourg is sitting at a brasserie with Katie and Julien and friends, and laughing hysterically to Philippe’s almost commercial quality sales pitch for his new wireless vacuum cleaner. Poor Dierstein was plagued with that damn “aspirateur wifi” joke for the remainder of the evening, and the next night, when he wasn’t even there.

I can’t say that we did much in Strasbourg, besides eat, laugh, drink, sit, walk, and wander. And yet, I feel highly satisfied by my time there. In all honesty, I owe most of this experience to Julien , who, as of Tuesday morning, I had never met in my life. Let me explain: a friend of mine from Ohio University, Tom Wagener, has a sister (Emily). Emily, like me, was an HTC French student in her day. However, her high school in Kent had an exchange program with a school in Toulon (if I remember correctly). Through this exchange program, she got to know the Servelle family. A series of long and complicated and mostly irrelevant events happened, and Julien, the son, ended up in Kent, Ohio, with the Wagener family. Tom and Julien became close, and when Tom went to Europe in 2006 to make a documentary, he and Julien toured around together.

A few weeks before leaving for France this year, while Katie and I were still trying to figure out where exactly we wanted to visit in France, I ran into Tom Wagener at 35 Park Place. He asked a bit about my plans, and I mentioned that Katie and I were considering Strasbourg, but that neither of us really knew the area at all. Tom immediately proposed to that I get in contact with Julien, and he promised that Julien would take good care of us. And Tom was right.

Julien makes fun of me for being a bit overwhelmingly gracious, but really, I can’t help it. Julien was the perfect host. He picked us up at the train station, took us out to dinner, bought us drinks, brought us bread and made tea in the morning, took us to the top of Notre Dame de Strasbourg, showed us around the city, took Katie to the airport on Thursday, and drove me to the train station at 6 in the morning on Friday. All this . . . for a friend of a friend. I can’t thank him enough.

Anyhow, as I said above, I don’t have much to report from Strasbourg. I can’t transcribe the contents of the countless conversations we had, ranging from politics, to dating, to sex, to family, to social ideas. It must be said that both Tom and Julien have an almost frightening wealth of slang vocabulary, and the time they spent together resulted in a massive transatlantic slang exchange. Julien introduced Katie and me into this very cesspool of argot, and heaven knows, I learned a lot. I told Julien that next time I come to visit I’m bringing a notebook so I can take notes. It helps that Julien speaks impeccable English (although he humbly disagrees), and that he could translate any French expressions foreign to our narrowly educated ears.

Other than the above mentioned vacuum conversation, other highlights from our time in Strasbourg include American win in the USA/Algeria game, the release of the iPhone 4 (which Julien now has, and let me play with), and food. If only food did not have calories, I would be the happiest person alive. From tarte flambée (flamenkuche), to salmon on a bed of sauerkraut, or spaetzle noodles with mushrooms, Julien insisted that we try the most Alsace specific regional dishes. And I am glad he did. I also have a new appreciation for beer cockails (yes, that sounds weird). For example (Stephanie Fisk, take note):

Picon Citron
• picon (caramel colored, bittersweet aperitif, made from a base of oranges)
• beer (probably a light, blonde beer)
• citron (lemon syrup)

Monaco
• beer (again, probably a light, blonde beer, although I can’t be sure)
• grenadine syrup
• limonade (like lemonade, but not quite . . . it’s not as sweet or as strong)

Max
• beer (same as above)
• white wine (wtf?!)
• caramel syrup
• apple syrup
(Yes, that sounds awful, but trust me . . . it tastes a bit like an alcoholic caramel apple, and it is divine.)

But I digress. In short, Strasbourg was at once nothing and everything special. Touring for me is no longer about sightseeing (even though we went to the top of the cathedral), but rather about experiencing all a region has to offer, whether that be through talking politics over pasta, launching into the PC vs. Mac debate at dinner, telling jokes over drinks, trying a sundry of regional dishes, cheering for the soccer team back home, or simply strolling along the Rhine.