This is how you know you raised them right
I had a very brief phone conversation with YS this morning. He is now in Strasbourg. Saturday night, they had a big party with all the host families. They had the traditional tarte flambee, or flammekueche in Alsatian.
It starts with bread dough rolled out fine as a crepe. But instead of tomatoes, anchovies and mozzarella, this dough is spread with creme fraiche, a thick soured cream mixed with a delicate fresh white cheese called fromage blanc. It is seasoned with salt and pepper, and then thinly sliced white onions and bacon cut like matchsticks go on top. The true tarte flambee is cooked in an old-fashioned wood-burning oven, the kind used in the countryside for baking bread. The heat in a wood-burning oven is so intense that in less than a minute the tarte emerges still supple, yet blistered at the edges, with the topping of cream and cheese the color of old ivory. Tarte flambee originated with peasants of the Bas Rhin, and is a specialty in the area from Strasbourg northwest to Saverne. Years ago farmers used to bake their bread just once a week. While the oven was still too hot to bake the bread without burning it, they would take a bit of dough, roll it out and spread it with thickened cream. In just a few minutes they could make a simple and delicious midday meal. Sounds like something I could live on!
Anyway, they had this party, during which they sang songs, played various games, and had a great time. At the end of the party, YS went to Steve, his professor's contact person in Saverne, who arranges all the home stays. He thanked him for putting this all together, and told him how much he'd enjoyed his host family. While he was telling me this, I could hear his friend in the background saying "and he was crying!" YS admitted that, when he was talking to Steve, he did get misty-eyed. Then he looked at his host mom, who also had teared up, and he did get pretty tearful. He teased back to his friend, Chelsea, "at least I didn't bawl like you did". I guess all the kids got emotional when they said goodbye to their surrogate families, knowing they may never see them again, and appreciating all that they had done for them these past two weeks. It made me get choked up too. YS is a really good kid, with a very tender heart. I know he will miss his host family, even though the kids are off to a great hostel in Strasbourg, where they can all hang out, and joke around, without the sometimes awkward feeling that accompanies living as a stranger in someone else's home. It made me smile to hear that he had been moved to tears when he bid them adieu, and they were sad to see him go. He must have been a good guest, which means he has learned something from us, after all.
