Getting to Know the In-Laws...

This past week I spent a lot of time in the south at Richard's family's house.

The first two days I was there without Richard, since he works in the north. I was terrified. 

His family has always been very nice to me, but there was definitely a thick cloud of awkward in the room with us every Sunday when everybody would gather together for lunch. They would speak to each other in either Creole or super-high-speed French, and I would sit at the table in silence, eating and drinking a little too much, since I had no way to contribute to the conversation. Any time I tried to stumble my way through nervous small talk, I ended up just utterly embarrassed. And constantly, in the back of my mind, I wondered with some jealousy how families in Réunion can be so much closer than families in America. 

My first Sunday back I was dreading going over there, because they all knew about what happened this summer; how I broke Richard's heart and told him I no longer wanted to come back to the island to be with him. But instead, something cool happened. His sister, Aurelie, pulled me aside after lunch and said "Listen. I know what you had to decide wasn't easy. I just didn't realize you were having such a hard time here before! I stay at home with the kids, so I have nowhere to be during the day. What do you like to do? How about I pick you up this week and we hang out?" I was thrilled!! We spent the whole next Tuesday together, talking about everything under the sun and hanging out with the kids. In that one day, everything changed. I entered a new level of knowledge...about her, their family, and Richard. That surface image I had of them...this perfect, untouchable family who all come together on Sundays for lunch, actually had a history! With problems! With hurt feelings and mistakes! I immediately loved them all that much more. 

Aurelie and Cristof's kids; Arthur and Charlotte

Charlotte likes to steal my sunglasses. 

That night, Richard's mom invited me to go to her---get this--- country line dancing class!

I have never been country line dancing, so it only seemed too perfect that I would learn this sort of thing here, in Reunion Island, in French, after living in Texas for the last five years. However, I was pretty panicky about spending time alone with Richard's mom--easily the most intimidating person I've ever met. She's very nice, the perfect hostess...but quiet and strict...serious about everything. Anyway I decided to be brave and go for it. What's the worst that can happen? I'm not gonna lie, the drive there was pretty awkward. She brought me an apple because I was hungry, so I just dorkily munched on this apple in the dark, neither of us really saying anything. We didn't have to...the apple was doing all the talking. Oh my God why was it so loud?!?! 

I was easily the youngest person there by like 20 years. But it didn't matter. We learned the Celtic Cajun Country Dance (I promise it's a real thing, you can youtube it!) and I was profusely thanking my "Dancing for the Actor" college professor for preparing me to quickly learn dance moves. I breezed through the dance perfectly, as did Mrs. Serveaux. It was the first time I really saw her open up and laugh. Since that night, she's been starting conversations with me (this is a shocking first) about dance and reviewing the steps. It brought us to a new level, as well.

Next door to the parents, in a small, very old Creole house, lives Richard's Grandma and Grandpa. They are definitely of another era, and they prefer to live the old way. Richard and I took Aurelie's kids there this weekend, since they have a large backyard full of animals. Cows, sheep, baby goats, and a healthy amount of chickens were having a little farm party, so we went to go join. The interior of the house reminded me of Charlie and the Chocolate factory. Grandma, who seemed to be sick and must not weigh more than 30 pounds, was sitting up in bed covered in blankets. Richard explained to me that she doesn't know what an American is...so he just told her that I come from a country far far away. I didn't know what to expect. I kissed her cheeks and said hello. Richard said "Grandma, this is my girlfriend." Grandma looks at me, then turns to Richard and says in a slow, shakey voice, "she's not fat." Richard laughs softly. "No, no, she's not..." And that's all that Grandma had to say. I guess it wasn't the worst review I've recieved in my life...

The kids were restless and they were tugging at me to take them back to the animals. We saw Grandpa on the way out...dressed in a totally cliché French cab driver hat, he was cooking some ground corn in an old pot over a fire. He offered us home-made fried pig intestines to snack on. Oh yum! Grandpa started speaking Creole to me, but luckily I deciphered enough of the French in it to understand his questions. He wanted to talk to me about Obama and Clinton. I guess he knew a little bit more about America than Grandma did :-)