Il
7 giugno
Frauenberg,
France
I've
spent the last six days in eastern France visiting with my dear
friend, Janine, who has lived and worked here for many years. She is,
in effect, a “native” and experiencing just a bit of her daily
life has been a treat. Frauenberg is a small village in
Alsace-Lorraine, the region in France that borders Germany. It's one
of those places in the country that the tourist wouldn't visit,
retaining that lovely feel of a small, “untainted” haven whose
citizens greet one another in the street. It is in Sarreguemines, the
neighboring town, where people go to do their shopping and take care
of business. For me, that meant a trip to the pharmacy, the
hairdresser, a local bar/cafe and some of the many charming
restaurants that are found there.
Frauenberg
is, actually, in Lorraine, although these last few days I've seen
much of Alsace as Janine drove to Mulhouse on Sunday, giving me an
opportunity to see this beautiful and lush forested area. It rained
heavily a good part of the way, but that didn't dampen our spirits as
we traveled along country roads surrounded by verdant foliage,
sloping hills, and vineyards. Walking the cobble-stoned streets of
Ribeauville and then Riquewihr, whose houses are built within the
city wall, was a journey back to the Middle Ages. Monday began with a
trip to the automobile museum where the collection of the Bugatti's
was worth the price of admission; let alone all the other vintage
cars from the early buggies to the chauffeured Rolls Royce of
yesteryear. Colmar, another medieval town, was next on our itinerary;
a charming, almost bustling site where local people live and work,
besides it being a tourist destination.
On
Tuesday morning, Janine and I walked to the outskirts of town where
the old and abandoned Jewish cemetery is found. Tombstones, some
crumbling, covered the hill and high weeds covered most of the tombs.
It was unsettling to see the condition of the cemetery, although I
was told that once a year, right before the Jewish High Holy Days, a
gardener comes to clean it up. (I returned the next day to spend some
quiet time there and to say the Kaddish prayer for those who have
long been buried; some from the 1800's.) Driving into Sarreguemines
in the afternoon, we found the synagogue, built in 1959, long after
the original one was destroyed. We had the very good fortune to meet
Monsieur Levi who was there to do some “synagogue business” and
he unlocked the door and invited us in. This lovely and funny man
showed us around and pointed out the plaque honoring the memory of
those families who were deported by the Nazis. I also learned that
before Napolean, Jews were not allowed to live in the cities so they
moved to the outlying villages...which is why there is a cemetery and
a synagogue, or the remains of one, in each of the villages in the
region.
Wednesday
was my last day and what a perfect way to end my stay....a bit of
shopping, couscous for lunch ( I haven't eaten authentic couscous
with all the trimmings since my college days in Paris!), and foie
gras and white wine for dinner...this visit was, indeed, a memorable
treasure. Merci, Janine.
looks like a little villa.... lovely
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