The day to day reality can feel mundane or overwhelming, but the seemingly minor details can change everything for a single moment and elevate it to a level of ecstasy no words could ever truly capture.
Climbing up the stairs with a giant stuffed animal and a bottle of chocolate milk, the typical beginning of the bedtime routine I have with Etienne, he reached over and held my hand tightly, smiling up at me with messy curls falling into his face. This is an event worth framing in my memory for all eternity.
---Second magical moment of the week:
We were sitting as his dry-erase-board desk, and I drew him cartoons. When I wrote out the word "T-REX," he recognized all the letters, and showed me how he could write it, too. For the first time in his little life, he wrote out a full word all by himself, and I got to be right next to him.
This is officially the most rewarding job I've ever had.
Tuesday, January 20, 2009
Friday, January 16, 2009
In Love with Life in Paris
Just as every other human being who walks along this planet encounters hard times, makes mistakes, and gets overwhelmed, I do also. However, no matter how many things I critique myself on or mistakes I make that come back to haunt me, making me wish to be in my big gold bed with hot cocoa and my best friend, I am still here. Today, I discovered what exactly it is that makes it all worthwhile.
It happened when I was sitting in an overstuffed chair in the living room with Etienne leaning against me, reading a book together titled "How Do Dinosaurs Learn Colors and Number?" He was sleepy and I was calm, and he confused a few of the colors and asked me the names of each type of dinosaur on every page. Then came the numbers, and he recognized them all. He counted perfectly. Over and over, every time, he got it exactly right. It may sound small and insignificant in the adult world that most of us have gotten accustomed to, but for me, this was an incredibly proud moment. After the past months of practicing numbers, colors, and letters together, it has all clicked in his brain and stuck in his memory. Less than an hour later, we were hiding from the "sharks" on his play rug, and he told me he loved me. Afterwards, we read a book about sharks and rays, and he pointed at a lot of different letters telling me what they're called and who's names he knows that start with them. The amount of joy that came from all of this, how great it felt to see the results of teaching him, the trust he's found in me, are worth every tear, every scream, and every homesick moment.
Taking a step back from myself and my frustrations, I can appreciate the life I've found here. The friends I have made are good and interesting human beings, and I adore being able to relax with them. The places I have gone to are places I never want to forget.
Drinking champagne on the bus ride to Amsterdam and laughing through the hours of the ride. Seeing old windmills still standing, and architecture that inspired Walt Disney himself. Screaming at the surprises in "The Dungeon," and smiling with wax celebrities for hours. Letting my jaw drop in the face of Van Gough's original works from his various travels and periods. Singing "Rent" at the top of my lungs in the Red Light District and laughing at cartoon animal shapes in the condom shop window. Finishing a cup of fresh coffee while trying on and then purchasing perfect and pink glitter-coated high heels.
Upon my return from that weekend in Amsterdam, I enjoyed my many laughs with the family in Paris, ice-skating downtown on Friday night, and then spending the following evening at Angela's house to enjoy eating pizza, making ourselves up, going out to dance through the morning, and sleeping in until I finally felt rested enough. During Ali's last night, we drank champagne and ate sugary treats and talked for hours with a few of her close friends until the night turned into the morning and we were forced to say good-bye.
Before my parents came for Christmas, I let myself finally have an entire day doing absolutely nothing and taking my first bath in four months. When they arrived, exhausted but excited, I was ecstatic to see them again. We got to be tourists in the city and see the Arc de Triomphe and walk the Champs Elysses together. We braved the cold to wait in line for the Eiffel Tower and Notre Dame. We sifted through the old stone streets of the Latin Quarter and ate in a French restaurant where I learned how to eat snails. We saw the church of Saint Chapelle and climbed the stairs to the Sacre Coeur, and saw the Parthenon and Archeological Crypte. An evening was passed on a bateaux mouche night tour through the Seine River. At the Louvre, I got to see Mona Lisa herself, and was overwhelmed by the beauty that the art and architecture embodied.
In the meals we shared at the house and time passed in our rental car during our German voyage, we got to just exist together, catch up and share plans. Seeing Nina felt so amazing after all these months, and I still believe that her mother is one of the kindest people I'll ever meet. My parents got introduced to the city of Oldenburg, and I got to see it all again and reminisce the fun I had there in August. On New Year's Eve, we melted metal and threw it into a big bowl of water to form a shape that tells us our fortune for the new year. We let ourselves forget about the imperfections of reality and get caught up and light fireworks in the street. Nina and I danced the night away and the slept away half of the next day. Barbara and Johannes, her parents, cooked sausages and sauerkraut and spatzle, and it was all wonderful. Walking through a little old village with her grandmother was also wonderful. In fact, the entire experience was absolutely wonderful, (with the exception of missing our bus to get there and getting lost several times during our not-so-mini road trip.)
Saying good-bye is always difficult, and not knowing when I would see anyone again made it even harder, but we made it through the morning in Oldenburg and cried through our farewell at the airport.
Even though I have to bear the distance from the ones I love for several more months, I know it is all going to be more than okay, and very worthwhile. I know I've messed up with skipping school and making the easy choices instead of the right choices sometimes, but I have to be doing something right, because the little boy I play with every day listens to me. He can count and recognize letters and he loves me.
I am already starting to realize how much I don't want to leave this city or this family. Marie is the best host mother I could have wished for, and my job is far more rewarding than I had anticipated. When Regis tries to look out for me, and Xavier helps me make cookies and cupcakes while Guillaume eats the batter and tells me jokes, I feel like I'm a part of the family. At the end of the day, when I've done a really good job and Laurent looks at me with a smile before we say good-night, it's great. This place and these people are extraordinary, and I am completely in love with them and the life I now have in this, the city of my dreams that is Paris.
It happened when I was sitting in an overstuffed chair in the living room with Etienne leaning against me, reading a book together titled "How Do Dinosaurs Learn Colors and Number?" He was sleepy and I was calm, and he confused a few of the colors and asked me the names of each type of dinosaur on every page. Then came the numbers, and he recognized them all. He counted perfectly. Over and over, every time, he got it exactly right. It may sound small and insignificant in the adult world that most of us have gotten accustomed to, but for me, this was an incredibly proud moment. After the past months of practicing numbers, colors, and letters together, it has all clicked in his brain and stuck in his memory. Less than an hour later, we were hiding from the "sharks" on his play rug, and he told me he loved me. Afterwards, we read a book about sharks and rays, and he pointed at a lot of different letters telling me what they're called and who's names he knows that start with them. The amount of joy that came from all of this, how great it felt to see the results of teaching him, the trust he's found in me, are worth every tear, every scream, and every homesick moment.
Taking a step back from myself and my frustrations, I can appreciate the life I've found here. The friends I have made are good and interesting human beings, and I adore being able to relax with them. The places I have gone to are places I never want to forget.
Drinking champagne on the bus ride to Amsterdam and laughing through the hours of the ride. Seeing old windmills still standing, and architecture that inspired Walt Disney himself. Screaming at the surprises in "The Dungeon," and smiling with wax celebrities for hours. Letting my jaw drop in the face of Van Gough's original works from his various travels and periods. Singing "Rent" at the top of my lungs in the Red Light District and laughing at cartoon animal shapes in the condom shop window. Finishing a cup of fresh coffee while trying on and then purchasing perfect and pink glitter-coated high heels.
Upon my return from that weekend in Amsterdam, I enjoyed my many laughs with the family in Paris, ice-skating downtown on Friday night, and then spending the following evening at Angela's house to enjoy eating pizza, making ourselves up, going out to dance through the morning, and sleeping in until I finally felt rested enough. During Ali's last night, we drank champagne and ate sugary treats and talked for hours with a few of her close friends until the night turned into the morning and we were forced to say good-bye.
Before my parents came for Christmas, I let myself finally have an entire day doing absolutely nothing and taking my first bath in four months. When they arrived, exhausted but excited, I was ecstatic to see them again. We got to be tourists in the city and see the Arc de Triomphe and walk the Champs Elysses together. We braved the cold to wait in line for the Eiffel Tower and Notre Dame. We sifted through the old stone streets of the Latin Quarter and ate in a French restaurant where I learned how to eat snails. We saw the church of Saint Chapelle and climbed the stairs to the Sacre Coeur, and saw the Parthenon and Archeological Crypte. An evening was passed on a bateaux mouche night tour through the Seine River. At the Louvre, I got to see Mona Lisa herself, and was overwhelmed by the beauty that the art and architecture embodied.
In the meals we shared at the house and time passed in our rental car during our German voyage, we got to just exist together, catch up and share plans. Seeing Nina felt so amazing after all these months, and I still believe that her mother is one of the kindest people I'll ever meet. My parents got introduced to the city of Oldenburg, and I got to see it all again and reminisce the fun I had there in August. On New Year's Eve, we melted metal and threw it into a big bowl of water to form a shape that tells us our fortune for the new year. We let ourselves forget about the imperfections of reality and get caught up and light fireworks in the street. Nina and I danced the night away and the slept away half of the next day. Barbara and Johannes, her parents, cooked sausages and sauerkraut and spatzle, and it was all wonderful. Walking through a little old village with her grandmother was also wonderful. In fact, the entire experience was absolutely wonderful, (with the exception of missing our bus to get there and getting lost several times during our not-so-mini road trip.)
Saying good-bye is always difficult, and not knowing when I would see anyone again made it even harder, but we made it through the morning in Oldenburg and cried through our farewell at the airport.
Even though I have to bear the distance from the ones I love for several more months, I know it is all going to be more than okay, and very worthwhile. I know I've messed up with skipping school and making the easy choices instead of the right choices sometimes, but I have to be doing something right, because the little boy I play with every day listens to me. He can count and recognize letters and he loves me.
I am already starting to realize how much I don't want to leave this city or this family. Marie is the best host mother I could have wished for, and my job is far more rewarding than I had anticipated. When Regis tries to look out for me, and Xavier helps me make cookies and cupcakes while Guillaume eats the batter and tells me jokes, I feel like I'm a part of the family. At the end of the day, when I've done a really good job and Laurent looks at me with a smile before we say good-night, it's great. This place and these people are extraordinary, and I am completely in love with them and the life I now have in this, the city of my dreams that is Paris.
Thursday, January 8, 2009
Words of Wisdom
"Only those who dare to fail greatly can ever acheive greatly."
~Robert Francis Kennedy
~Robert Francis Kennedy
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