When I lived in Istanbul I loved the cry of the mosques. They sound so exotic and for me, they were a reminder that I was living in a fabulous foreign country.
Here in France we have the church bells which I sometimes take for granted. Normally I am up before the first chimes of the day but this morning I had a lie in. As I laid in bed I though to myself, I wonger what time it is? A couple of minutes later, the church bells started ringing....one, two, three, four, five; six, seven, eight and there they stopped.
Then they start ringing loudly and continuously for a few minutes as to to say it's time to get going!
The bells are the voice of the community. They talk to us.
The bells talk about death, birth, weddings, baptisms, Easter, Christmas, funerals and special alerts. They call us to wake, to pray, to work, to arms, to feast and, in times of crisis, to come together. Above all, bells are the sound of freedom and peace as in World War II they hung silently until the day they could ring in the peace.
French Catholic tradition says that on Good Friday (the Friday before Easter), all church bells in France sprout wings and fly down to the Vatican for a visit and to be blessed by the Pope.
So no church bells ring between Friday and Easter Sunday morning, to commemorate the death of Jesus (and because they’re all in Rome, obviously).
After their getaway to Italy, the bells return to France laden with goodies for well-behaved children — namely chocolate eggs. And then during the church services of Easter Sunday, the bells go crazy once again in celebration of Jesus' resurrection.
On that note I had better go, as soon as the bells chime once French Boyfriend will be here for lunch. Note every half hour they chime once so it is an easy mistake to think that it is 13h when it is infact 13h30.
à très bientot, Leeann x