My first Sunday and a Sunday it was!

This morning we went to a church that we were told did not allow women to talk out or pray during the service. in my head I was like,, ok,,, I will go and see how this is, but wow that is weird. Do they know the Lord? How could they be like that? But, of course, other cultures have ways that we may or cannot understand and I just go with an open heart and mind and realize that there are reasons for things people do and I don't judge as much as I possibly can.
So, we enter the church. It is a smallish room, about 35X20, and the pews all face the center and in the center are the elements, the bread (of course a lovely looking loaf since we are in France) and the wine. (real wine, because we ARE in France.) The clock clicks by, still- SILENCE. The people say nearly nothing and we wait. We wait in silence for the service at 10. It is uncomfortable, the silence. I am tired, as we didn't realize the correct time to leave, all I have had is my morning coffee, then I had run out the door, remembering only to wear a skirt and proper "girl" attire and my translation notes of the presentation that Ruth and Mark are to give. We wait. I can scarcely wait any more, and people eye us suspiciously, as the room fills. I think they must know that we are not locals because this small congregation would notice any newcomers right off.
Finally, the service begins,, I don't remember how they did start it because there is not a "pastor" so to speak. The responsibility of that seemed to fall on a couple of men, one of whom had a guitar and a girl too, and she tuned one and gave it to another young man and him and the "worship leader" began a song at some point, I know. We were told a number in the children's hymnal, (which had their own works of art on each laminated set of songs). Back and forth between that, another real hymnal, and yet another song book, we sat and stood and listened and sang and sat and stood and sang, maybe 20 different songs, all out of the 3 books. We even sang a song in English, French, German, Italian, and ... Spanish! (All the while the people apologized for their poor accents in English whilst we were struggling to just sing in French!) They- by the way- didn't have poor English accents. It was amazing, yet tiring. We must have been there two hours doing this, then they gave the floor to our British counterparts, our co-leaders, Mark and Ruth Provis. They read off their script in French, telling the congregation of the reason we'd (YWAM) been invited to this church; to tell the congregation of the school's doings in the community and the different aspects that YWAM (JEM en Français) are involved in, like Intercession and teaching evangelism and whatnot. I actually enjoyed the service, though it was long and in a foreign language.  At one point, we took communion as a church, passed around the one plate of yummy french bread, (is that a sin?) and the wine. In one cup nonetheless. I hope no one was sick, but no matter, it was real wine after all. So, we then were invited to the "pastor's"? house and went there not too long after the service, in which a few families we had met came too and I realized the women HAD talked during the service, we were just not to pray out loud during the time where we had heard from some people (men) reading from the Word at random. (To me it seemed planned, but I guess at that time in the service, the men were at will reading or praying at random).
Have you ever eaten a real French lunch,, meal? It was one of the beat meals I have ever partaken of- seen.. Not to mention just France in general. I am sorry I didn't have my camera! (remember I said I didn't think to bring much else that morning when we left?) The scenery! The green... EVERYTHING. Here it is, mid-September, and how green it all was! IS. I only wish my mom could have seen it. She would have loved it. They had kiwi trees (vines?) and huge sprawling grass areas with all kinds of rose bushes and pretty flowering plants and trees and green green green. I am from Nevada, and green is sparse there, but I don't care where you come from, it was green. I am not usually one to be enthralled with vegetation,, but these people had a beautiful yard. Eventually, food was put on the table, set outside with real plates and glasses, formal for a picnic, yet relaxed and so nice. All in all, there was about 15-20 people, including children, which were running all over and playing with toys provided in a bucket under the clotheslines. We adults talked in French (hhaha, not me) and chatted about the things Ruth and Mark talked about in the service. The atmosphere was light and gay and uncomfortable all at the same time ( just because I am a tad anti-social) The papa-pastor was at the head of the table to my left, and he had a warmth and wisdom in his eyes and he made a couple of jokes outta me and it made me want to crawl under the table but they were funny and he was nice.
We chatted about work, the world, the language differences, and it was really one of the best times I have had at a meal, mainly because the French know how to eat! They are professional about the flavors and presentation is superb, but still very welcoming and relaxing. No pretentious rules really, not stuffy and formal, but SOOSOSOSOSO good! The bread is never ceasing, the salad flavorful but simple, the main course was some kind of chicken, citrus and peanut and the rice and chicken were moist and beautiful tasting and then,,, breathe breathe-- the cheese the- no kidding,, like 7 desserts! All served on one plate! (the desserts I mean, not the whole meal) So, ya. I was quite uncomfortable at the begiining, but after 3 hours of trying to understand the conversation and the wonderful food, I forgot about all that and really began to enjoy the first real "French people" expierience. They are warm, very real, genuine and funny. I really think anyone of them could be my friend. I think I may just like it here!