Contemplating Nature: A Lesson in Sustainability: France

It's been a good while since I've written in this, but I do have a good excuse; I have moved to France!

France is different in many more ways than the language, the age of the villages, the holidays, the way people greet each other, the dishes, the weather, etc. Though I have discussed France's lack of political activism in conservation and ecological awareness with passionate French men, France is miles ahead of the United States in sustainability.

For one: At the grocery store, there are no bags. You have to bring your own, buy your own at the store, or simply go without a bag. (The U.S. is making an effort towards this, but paper and plastic bags are still conveniently available)

Secondly, most people buy what they can at the farmer's markets: produce, poultry, beef, sea food, cheese, milk, beans, clothes, bread--everything. Farmer's market products are not only cheaper than a supermarket, they are locally grown or produced and are thereby more sustainable than the imported Spanish tomatoes that are sold at the supermarket. (And much more sustainable than the South American imported produce I mentioned in a previous entry). Plus, you get to support a farmer rather than a farming industry.

I do not have a car. Yet, I can walk to the farmer's market and two super markets. I can walk to the pharmacy, clothing stores, the train station, the pub, and several different churches. When I do take transportation, it's the SNCF train or I ride in a car with someone else--and it's usually more than two people in the car. The cars, at that, are all manual transmission, are usually small passenger cars, and do not waste energy on air conditioning. I ride my bike, as do many others, and cyclists are respected on the road.

There are no clothes dryers. This may sound absurd, but it's actually pretty great. I spent about 3 hours sitting in a garden (see above) waiting for my clothes to wash, then hung them to dry. All while sipping tea and reading Dostoevsky. I actually enjoyed doing laundry. My clothes smelled better, I felt better, and it cost less both financially and ecologically.

There is no air conditioning, and heating is only used certain months of the year. All houses and buildings have these magic things called windows--with curtains and shutters that can go from covering the entire window, to having holes for light, and can even be rolled up to any stopping point until they no longer touch the window pane. The windows can open from the top and let in a little air, or they can open completely. The curtains and the shutters can block out sunlight when it's hot, and block out the cold when it's cold. In between, you can let in cool breezes--especially during the day.

Most of the houses and buildings are built into older structures: most of the houses I've been in were built inside of 400 year old farms, 500 year old stables, the working quarters of a castle or an old village. The architecture seeks to work with its environment and even that is more sustainable than America's well known suburban landscapes.

Everything is in smaller portions. And I'm not starving. But, I don't feel obligated to eat as much, and I feel better after I eat. Even coffee--it's served in a small cup, but the ingredients are so rich that a little cup does the job better than a larger cup in America--and it's actually a little cheaper (unless you're in Paris, of course). There is less waste, less consumption, and less energy to transport said waste and consumer products.

I can't begin to tell you how amazing the food is. I never knew a tomato could taste like something! And they're red, are often grown without harmful pesticides or unsustainable farming techniques. (Though, the French call "organic" food "Agriculture Biologique", and there is a difference) The industrialization of agriculture is not as strong in France as it is in the United States, and most of what you eat is actually from a real, pastoral image farm. There are, however, plenty of American industry products to buy for a much higher price in most supermarkets.

While I was at the farmer's market with my friend Claude, we were invited to lunch by a painter. The French are very welcoming, and we ended up staying at Raymond's house for a few hours eating a several course lunch, getting a tour of his garden, learning about his paintings, work within his house and the history of where he lives. The vegetarian fad has not quite hit France, and people are often interested to talk to me about why I chose to not eat meat.

When we got to his house, I couldn't believe how beautiful it was. Eating in France is thought of as nourishing the body, of spending time with those you love, and of taking the time to slow down. All too often, eating in America is fast, squeezed into a thirty minute break (in a French high school, the lunch break is at least an hour), and is made from boxes, jars, and bags.

Like I said, it's amazing how much more flavor a silly tomato has when you grow it locally and naturally. Raymond lives off the vegetables, herbs and fruit in his garden, eats eggs from his chickens, and only goes to the market for meat. And I can honestly say that the quality of taste and nutrition is worth the effort to keep up a garden.

So, I leave you with this: America has no excuse. Sure, it will take time for America to adjust its infrastructure--we can't simply start walking across the suburbs of Houston and forget our cars. We can, however, stop offering free, unsustainable bags in grocery stores. We can add bike lanes to more cities, promote and support farmer's markets in our towns (there's even one where I went to high school, and I never even knew!), start our own garden--and even start small, and try not using a dryer. Lastly, we should all make an effort to learn about other cultures' sustainable practices and apply them to our own lives, thereby influencing others and promoting change.

(Raymond,the farmer and Painter, and Claude, a fellow teacher and avid reader, in the garden)