I drank my coffee out of a bowl. Yes, that’s right.. .out of a bowl…a big bowl. I had a refill, too. It is true that everyone I worked with drank coffee out of a bowl, but I must say the second serving of caffeine helped me make it up the “big hill” each morning on the way to work. This big hill was a BIG part of my daily routine during the two weeks I spent in France. The hill’s trail led me to the site I worked on each morning in St. Victor la Coste, a small village in southern France.

St. Victor is a village that serves as one of the locations for a project called La Sabranenque – a project that involves the restoration and reconstruction of typical structures using traditional building techniques. Volunteer participants of all ages and from all over the world come together for one or two week sessions at numerous Mediterranean locations to work on different structures. Volunteers help rebuild the structures as they were always built, by using the local materials. The projects are always on-going. Work done can vary depending on projects under way, but the basis of all is stone masonry. Other techniques used can include any stage of historic restoration. I, for example, helped with flooring a medieval chapel using tiles. All the volunteers were sort of thrown into the job, but with the help of experienced stone masons. Most of our time was spent standing, listening, and trying to interpret and follow through on the directions given to us. After the initial frustration, however, we could see the progress of our work and it became a very satisfying experience.

Most of what I experienced in France, however, occurred at the bottom of the big hill, as the project is really “little work, mostly play.” We were all housed two per room in the stone houses that are intermingled with terraces, courtyards, cobbled streets and trees. Each morning we would have a breakfast of fresh Baguette, butter and various jams (and of course, the occasional leftover dessert from the night before). After breakfast, we would climb that big hill and work at the site at the top of it – a medieval castle named La Castellas. Usually we would work three to four hours and then climb back down the mountain for the rest of our day. A gourmet lunch of numerous courses would be ready for us each day, home-cooked by the La Sabranenque chef and prepared with fresh produce and other healthy. Mediterranean ingredients (think olive oil.. .and lots of it). We sat for over an hour, eating and socializing, until we eventually dispersed to enjoy our different activities. After lunch, we all had the afternoon off to do whatever we pleased. Most of us took walks, read, went to the cafe, hung our laundry in the sun, took our showers, traveled to other towns, or just took a siesta.

Dinner was served at 7:30, and that was the time for the 20-30 participants to rejoin and to learn about each other’s day and each other’s lives. The hour and half we spent eating dinner and socializing, and really, the two weeks we all spent together in France, was a time when strangers transformed into lifelong friends. One of the women on the trip had her 50th birthday in France. I remember the birthday girl as she began to speak. “It’s this…” she said, while holding her arms out in front other as if embracing everyone there, “that makes all this…” looking up and all around at her surroundings, “so extraordinary.” And she was right. It was extraordinary.

It was more than extraordinary. Each day in Provence I was surrounded by my idea of heaven. Fields of lavender prosperously inhabited the country, each plant like a wave in a violet sea. I tasted fresh peaches, apples and apricots just picked from the trees. I felt breezes as if they had never existed before, as if each one was intoxicating me with giddiness. Every day, I would ask myself, “Can life get any better than this?” and then all of a sudden, in some way, it would.

Not only were my senses enticed by such powerful surroundings, but my experiences each day also made me realize how lucky I am to live. The experiences I had inspired me to appreciate life and laughter and to not be so scared of opening myself up to people. Sure, I had tasted sweet melon bathed in orange blossom water. Fresh thyme had awakened my senses each morning on the way to work. I heard laughter echo from the village cafe each night, but, more importantly, I also met amazing people and learned about their interesting pasts and their dreams for their future. I learned to dance and not to care if I look like a fool doing it. I learned I could never look like a fool doing it anyway if I am enjoying myself and reveling in my existence. I experienced a hailstorm in France in the middle of a wine-tasting party. I took walks just as the sun set against the canvas of cypress trees and vineyards. I read while sitting on a terrace overlooking a French village. I laid tiles down with my hands and mixed mortar in the hot, Provencal sun.

Truly, I have never felt so far removed from reality as I did during the two weeks I spent in France. However, in reality, I was living life as it should be lived – simply. My roommate and I had agreed that the reason the French people who worked year round at the project were so beautiful was because they lived their lives this way- healthy and simple. The work they do is not performed in pursuit of money. It is work based on preserving something they love and for restoring something they think is beautiful and worth the restoration. At dinner one night, one of the French stone masons said the familiar phrase, “you only have one life. You have to live it.” I had heard this phrase many times before in my life, but never had it held so much meaning to me as it did in that very moment.