I promise not to write blogs about our Communities Connecting Heritage cultural exchange project forever. But, I had one last one to share here. And, the only other thing that has been happening to me lately involves my mother and assisted living… which I’m not ready to write about yet at all.
During our three-week cultural exchange hosting five Bengali friends here in DC, we made many personal cultural connections. On the afternoon of July 11, I took Mamoni Chitrakar, a traditional patachitra scroll painter, to the Smithsonian American Art Museum and Portrait Gallery, wanting to share their exhibitions of American folk art with her, as well as the portraits of the presidents.
Before viewing a dizzying array of art, including the works crammed into close quarters at the Luce Center to maximize our time, we fortified ourselves at the cafe in the magnificent Kogod Courtyard between the two museums. We shared a sandwich (relatively easy to cut in half with a plastic knife) and a rock-hard Red Delicious apple. Anyone who has ever tried to cut one of those beauties with a plastic knife knows the drill.
Our attempts at halving this large fruit specimen were at first frustrating, but then we both began to giggle. Since our mutual knowledge of each other’s language is minimal (she is doing much better at English than I am doing at Bengali, though) we didn’t have words, we only had facial expressions and our laughter at our futile attempts, the butchery that ensued, and the juice all over the table before we were successful. It was all that we needed.
Mamoni is back home now, but I think of her every day, and my fondest memory was her laughter and her smile. I admire her bravery in leaving her family and coming to a strange country for three whole weeks, her eagerness to share her culture, and her willingness to try anything – even cutting an apple with a plastic knife.
I was thinking of writing a poem about the experience – still might – but for now, I leave you with this thought. Share an experience with someone from a culture other than yours. Whether its a chat on the train, some other chance encounter like a taxi ride, or an actual planned cultural exchange. Don’t worry about language, just have fun with it. Giggling is not required but helps. You won’t regret it, though it might be a bit uncomfortable or messy. Just do it. Like the bodily nourishment of that shared apple, sharing culture feeds the soul.
My old friend Jean and I made our way via public transportation to visit another friend and colleague, Macey, in her eclectic neighborhood of 
Just down the street was 
As for the best food adventure, the prize goes to a homey 
The first thing upon arriving is to find your way to the top – a challenging climb up steep streets and steps to the highest point, Mount St. Clair. The elevation is a mere 574 feet, but the view is spectacular and lays Sete’s waterways out for you so that they make sense. To the right, the Mediterranean. To the left, Etang de Thau, a sort of large lake or lagoon. And, in the middle, bisecting the town, a series of canals connecting the two. Water, water, everywhere.
That said, the local seafood is worth it all no matter which cafe you end up at, and the menus are all very similar. The most famous local dish is a sort of octopus pie which is called 
Wednesday is market day in Quillan, so we headed downtown to check out the action. We didn’t find the produce market (it had probably already ended, seeing as we didn’t get there until after noon), but there was a lively flea market, where one could find everything from clothing to books, housewares to new age paraphernalia. We spent some time pawing through a huge and very funky pile of t-shirts on offer from some Northern African merchants and chatted in my broken French with them.
Next, a short hike to the highest point in town, which was to become a theme in our wanderings around this part of France, but is always a good tourist strategy wherever you roam. In Quillan, that would be the site of the ruined castle, just a big square stub of stone with a few decorative features left, the rest of which we learned later had been pilfered by the locals to build houses down in town. (Even the gargoyles have made themselves to the end of the drain spouts of a couple of homes.) Good for spectacular views across the Pyrenees, though.
The rest of the day was spent strolling the streets, visiting the church, taking in the view of fishermen fly-casting on the Aude, learning how the past prosperity of the town had come from hat factories and poking down alleyways, guided somewhat by a walking tour the tourist office attendant had printed out for us. This was topped off by a reward of afternoon ice cream before boarding the 4:00 bus back to Limoux.
In short, Quillan did not offer the Medieval splendor of Carcassone, nor the tourist magnetism of some of the other remarkable places we visited during our trip, but spending a day there was a wonderful experience of feeling the rhythm of a midweek in this part of the country, and feeling pleasantly surprised by the little things. A sun dial on the side of a house. Front and back yard flower and vegetable gardens. School children headed home. Old friends greeting one another. All in the setting of the age-old mountains and the winding Aude. A most excellent day all around.
We started our adventure by parking near the train station, which is close to the Canal du Midi – which figures later in the story – and setting out for the walled city. In all the photos you see of the walled city (which is situated as every fortification worth its salt on a high and formidable hill) one would assume that it must loom up from the more modern part, and that you should be able to see it from everywhere you look. Not so.
You can merely stroll around the walls, which offer lovely views of the hills in the distance, or you can go the historical interpretation route of a visit to the 
We finally, and reluctantly, left the walled city and headed back to the canal for another history lesson wrapped in a relaxed boat ride. The 
As you glide down the plane tree lined canal a guide gives you excellent background information, you go through a lock to find out how those work, and you have a lovely rest stop at an old inn. A whole different view from the rugged walled city, which you could not see from the part of the canal we toured. It seemed something we had dreamed instead of actually having visited just hours before.
Tantalizing photos of the charms of the villa had been offered up by the booking agency, although Google street view made the exterior look bland and ordinary. Opening the substantial front door, a whole new world was revealed. A Medieval courtyard with vaulted ceiling led to a stage-set of a grand interior, with three floors and amazing views from all windows. Here, the Gothic church across the River Aude. There, a hillside with the ubiquitous vineyards. I would not call it cozy, by any stretch, but rather intimidatingly majestic.
the Piano, which is housed in an old disused church, and was again only a couple of blocks from the villa. Do you like pianos? Well, you will love this museum then. Even if you like old churches, and just nominally enjoy pianos, it is worth a visit. It also features a concert area in the back, where we capped off our visit to Limoux at the end of the week with a wonderful piano and cello recital.
A few pointers about Limoux, in case you find yourself in the vicinity some day. First: food. Market day is Friday, and the food market is not in the central square but in and around the market building a few blocks from the square. There are several green grocers in town, though if you crave fruit and veg, and their produce is reasonable and delicious. (Best peaches ever!) There are some smallish in-town grocery stores, and on the outskirts of town, there is one of the biggest grocery stores I have ever seen anywhere, not as charming but good for stocking up if you have a car. It is a much better deal, and in keeping with the local customs, to go out for a leisurely two or three course lunch and make your own light dinner. Cafes and restaurants abound, cheaper fare being pizzas and crepes off the square.