The regular flights and evenings of Dr. Suess followed by late-night Parisian adventures have come to an end, and the big weekend family breakfasts and small-town church services filled with weekly hugs from the congregation recommence. The travels have come to a pause, and the suitcases are now empty. The children have gotten bigger and louder, the cars and houses have been upgraded or modified, and the trees have grown taller than last summer. However, the people have mostly stayed the same -- except for me.
I now speak with a lighter accent and find myself with a greater abundance of patience than before. I see little boys with trucks and cars on their t-shirts and have to smile. I listen to the geeky guys who tell me stories and can actually appreciate them. The rare intellectuals and travelers who I come across find me fascinating and "so accomplished for such a young American." I can even keep up with them in conversations about the world economy and participate in their debates over the controversy between Isreal and Palestine. Sitting in a cafe a few towns over with Angela, before she left, I was approached by their local French Club president and asked to join.
The life I lived in New Hampshire prior to my trip to France was full of hard work and complicated social situations, accompanied by the boredom of living in the middle of nowhere. The world I entered when the front door of the Bouyoux home opened for me was, indeed, an entirely different world. The work was far from the farm, and the people around me knew the difference between two different types of cheese or red wine without so much as a glance at the label. I doubt they know how to weed a garden or bleach a mildew stain, but then again, why would they need to know when they have "people" for that?
I was not one of them, but one of such "people" who worked for them and handled the situations that were simply too inconvenient for a bourgois to take care of on their own. Still, I lived in their house, and saw first-hand what it would be like to drive home in a new Mercedes and announce to everyone that the vacation home in Corsica has officially been bought. "We've decided to go to Rome," was an amusing sentence to casually hear tossed into the evening.
Here and now, back in this world, I spent a night with old friends driving around back roads on a four-wheeler and eight hours of my day on a farm occupying myself with produce plants, turning myself green on the skin of my hands. I put gas in my dad's car when I used it, and finally bought a new wallet before heading out to the movies. It's all mundane in the eyes of any ordinary stranger, and many would even deem it as a mediocre way of life. For me, however, the stress-free aspect of caring for a plant that cannot talk back or get angry is refreshing, and the people of small-town living know how to enjoy their lives better than most of the wealthy people whom I have encountered.
Still, the memories of my year in travels and moments of bliss replay in my mind, allowing me to miss them in my nostalgia as they burn their way into my brain for ever. I can remember how it felt to have Etienne reach out for my hand and smile at me the first time, and when we spent an entire afternoon making paper airplanes and putting stickers on my face. He was so cute when he showed me how he had put his shoes on all by himself, but they were on the wrong feet! Minutes quickly transformed into hours of make-believe and great white sharks swimming in between the furniture...
Then there was Marie, always there to be tough or gentle and pass a great conversation with over so many cups of coffee. Angela always looked so cute and had something to say to me. The au pairs from my school were there to meet up at a bar or hang out at Trocadero and even go to Amsterdam and discover the combination of sins and beauties of the city with me. I bought jewelry made of camel bones and pet a cheetah in a wine estate during my visit to South Africa with Ali in her dorm room. Amel quickly became the girl I could talk to for hours and share stories and create adventures together, like discovering Rome, standing in fountains, and singing sober on the sidewalks.
Then, there's the boy who I can't get out of my mind, who held my hand when I taught him how to ice skate and cried with me at the airport for my flight home. He shared with me many afternoons of art and culture, and always helped me find a good place to stop for ice cream. He's an intellectual who enjoyed explaining world history and international affairs to me, but who could also make me laugh and give great hugs, the ones that hold on tight so that I never wanted to let go.
Marko traveled with his dad and thought to bring me back souvenirs in the form of glass shoes. When I dropped them and shattered one of the liquor-filled Cinderella slippers, he told me he loved me, and it was real. I remember the repeating thought of desire to kiss him after we spent the whole day looking at art, after we had booked our flight to Barcelona together when I had been hours late without any power in my cell phone and he never lost patience with me, and after his school's concert in the Sorbonne when we hugged and started to say good-night several times until we finally realized we both wanted it. We spent hours together on the Champs Elysses just looking at each other and kissing under, on, and around the Arc de Triomphe. I hadn't enjoyed kissing like that since I was fourteen.
When the time came to pack our bags and fly to Spain together, he was calm and collected through the whole process, leading me around subways and the airport, always incredibly prepared. I think he must run a checklist in his head of items to prepare and check regularly. His patience never ran out, and he never complained about waiting for me or having to stop for me to get something I forgot or needed. Not once. He's the only person who woke me up successfully without making me bitter in the process. He let me spend too much time in the bathroom and gave me medicine and the afternoon to rest when I got sick. I don't know how many men there are in the world who are as considerate as he is, but I know I'm lucky to have him in my life. No matter what there is to come, I already know I can never forget him. I slowly fell in love with him every time we saw one another, and now I've lost track of how deeply I've fallen.
As gloomy as it is to accept the past year as a memory in place of a living reality, I still know that I can always return, and that regardless of what happens, "we'll always have Paris..."
Sunday, July 26, 2009
Tuesday, June 23, 2009
People and Places
"Dream as if you'll live forever, live as if you'll die today..."
-James Dean
Life is a precious and valuable gift that I never want to take for granted. The one which I am fortunate enough to be living is one to cherish. After a year full of insanity and new experiences, I shared my final evening with the Bouyoux family, and found myself in tears once they were all in their rooms, ready for bed.
Since September, I've rediscovered the dreams I used to have and managed to figure out what kind of person I want to become. There have been an abundance of times when I was completely lost and confused, and many nights of homesickness and frustration. What got me through the unpleasant and emotional times was a combination of knowing that I am in the city I'd dreamt of for so long, and knowing that there are people who love me and think of me with each passing moment.
Now, after having come so far from our first successful bath-time together, Etienne has found a permanent place in my memory and my heart. I was there when he started speaking French with his family, when he sang the alphabet song by himself and wrote his first word, and when he started washing himself in the tub and buttoning and unbuttoning his own clothes without any help. These memories will stay with me, along with all the dozens of cookies and batches of pancakes, the bedtime stories and stuffed animal friends, and the ongoing adventures of Captain Etienne and his pirate crew.
Of all the people and places I've seen during the past ten months, his family and Paris remain my favorites. I don't want to leave them, and it is certain that I will return over the years to come.
This is not the end of an amazing adventure, it's only the first of many chapters in my life. College, Disney, the Peace Corps, world travels, and maybe even realizing my childhood dream of being the first ballerina to dance on the moon are all ahead, among the unlimited options of the world before me...
-James Dean
Life is a precious and valuable gift that I never want to take for granted. The one which I am fortunate enough to be living is one to cherish. After a year full of insanity and new experiences, I shared my final evening with the Bouyoux family, and found myself in tears once they were all in their rooms, ready for bed.
Since September, I've rediscovered the dreams I used to have and managed to figure out what kind of person I want to become. There have been an abundance of times when I was completely lost and confused, and many nights of homesickness and frustration. What got me through the unpleasant and emotional times was a combination of knowing that I am in the city I'd dreamt of for so long, and knowing that there are people who love me and think of me with each passing moment.
Now, after having come so far from our first successful bath-time together, Etienne has found a permanent place in my memory and my heart. I was there when he started speaking French with his family, when he sang the alphabet song by himself and wrote his first word, and when he started washing himself in the tub and buttoning and unbuttoning his own clothes without any help. These memories will stay with me, along with all the dozens of cookies and batches of pancakes, the bedtime stories and stuffed animal friends, and the ongoing adventures of Captain Etienne and his pirate crew.
Of all the people and places I've seen during the past ten months, his family and Paris remain my favorites. I don't want to leave them, and it is certain that I will return over the years to come.
This is not the end of an amazing adventure, it's only the first of many chapters in my life. College, Disney, the Peace Corps, world travels, and maybe even realizing my childhood dream of being the first ballerina to dance on the moon are all ahead, among the unlimited options of the world before me...
Thursday, May 7, 2009
Life and Choices
"You are the sum of your experiences."
Mister Betournay recited this to the CATA community during a half-day workshop in my junior year. I can't recall whether or not he told us if they were his words, or a famous quotations from a prominent cultural figure, but I remember the words. I remember the tool-belt he wore that day, proclaiming each item from his own previous experience represented what he has learned, and how he takes them with him through the paths he follows.
I know that my first community theatre tours taught me a lot about the realities of drama, and also how much my decision to attend a new art school sophomore year has impacted my life as a whole. I am also certain that the risk of moving in with strangers in France has led to a series of events that have forced me to realize and accept who I am on my own, when I only have myself and a few material belongings which remain the same. It also forced me to take responsibility for my actions, and a young child, while thoroughly evaluating my options for the future.
"What would you do if you knew you could not fail?"
This was the question that my eyes fell upon late at night a few months ago, when I was searching for artistic inspiration on the world wide web. Afterwards, I signed off and pondered with my diary. My knee-jerk reaction was "Broadway and Hollywood," but I tossed it aside. Then, in the reflections that followed, memories of that six year old blond girl being blinded from the audience by stage lighting and the excitement she felt at the house applause at the end came flooding back. My first lead role, my first big audience, my debut at the opera house scrolled through the insides of my eyelids and I suddenly recalled the words to Broadway songs that inspired me at age thirteen.
Even now, as a nanny, my favorite part of play-time is when we make believe, and I hear myself pointing at a sculpture on the shelf and shouting out, "I see another cowboy coming!" Drawing cartoons to follow the stories I invent for Etienne, making silly faces, and using accents and different voices for the storybooks we read are all forms of expression. In these expressions outside of myself, whatever may be concerning me at the time is insignificant. I now believe that I belong in the world of performance, and am registered as a theatre performance major at Elmira College for the class of 2013.
All the reasons I have to stay in Paris, travel, teach English in China, major in communications, or do volunteer work in Northern Africa are not enough to make me decide to do them, because they are not the one thing that I truly desire. My wish is to return to dance lessons, practice scales and site reading, and tell stories that captivate an audience before me. Going to college and auditioning for Disney next year is the only option that I want to consider for my nineteenth year of life, and I am extremely excited for this.
And so, my experiences are still mounting, undeniably, and thus I am constantly learning and changing. I'm okay with that. There are an abundance of things in existence that I know nothing about, and I have accepted that and decided to ask questions, do my research, and realize that I will never know or understand everything. French grammar is difficult, people matter, and dreams do come true. These are among the things I have learned over the past eight months. What I choose to do for the next two is to keep on learning and listening, and never take "please" and "thank you" for granted. This is where I am in life, and with it, I am content.
Mister Betournay recited this to the CATA community during a half-day workshop in my junior year. I can't recall whether or not he told us if they were his words, or a famous quotations from a prominent cultural figure, but I remember the words. I remember the tool-belt he wore that day, proclaiming each item from his own previous experience represented what he has learned, and how he takes them with him through the paths he follows.
I know that my first community theatre tours taught me a lot about the realities of drama, and also how much my decision to attend a new art school sophomore year has impacted my life as a whole. I am also certain that the risk of moving in with strangers in France has led to a series of events that have forced me to realize and accept who I am on my own, when I only have myself and a few material belongings which remain the same. It also forced me to take responsibility for my actions, and a young child, while thoroughly evaluating my options for the future.
"What would you do if you knew you could not fail?"
This was the question that my eyes fell upon late at night a few months ago, when I was searching for artistic inspiration on the world wide web. Afterwards, I signed off and pondered with my diary. My knee-jerk reaction was "Broadway and Hollywood," but I tossed it aside. Then, in the reflections that followed, memories of that six year old blond girl being blinded from the audience by stage lighting and the excitement she felt at the house applause at the end came flooding back. My first lead role, my first big audience, my debut at the opera house scrolled through the insides of my eyelids and I suddenly recalled the words to Broadway songs that inspired me at age thirteen.
Even now, as a nanny, my favorite part of play-time is when we make believe, and I hear myself pointing at a sculpture on the shelf and shouting out, "I see another cowboy coming!" Drawing cartoons to follow the stories I invent for Etienne, making silly faces, and using accents and different voices for the storybooks we read are all forms of expression. In these expressions outside of myself, whatever may be concerning me at the time is insignificant. I now believe that I belong in the world of performance, and am registered as a theatre performance major at Elmira College for the class of 2013.
All the reasons I have to stay in Paris, travel, teach English in China, major in communications, or do volunteer work in Northern Africa are not enough to make me decide to do them, because they are not the one thing that I truly desire. My wish is to return to dance lessons, practice scales and site reading, and tell stories that captivate an audience before me. Going to college and auditioning for Disney next year is the only option that I want to consider for my nineteenth year of life, and I am extremely excited for this.
And so, my experiences are still mounting, undeniably, and thus I am constantly learning and changing. I'm okay with that. There are an abundance of things in existence that I know nothing about, and I have accepted that and decided to ask questions, do my research, and realize that I will never know or understand everything. French grammar is difficult, people matter, and dreams do come true. These are among the things I have learned over the past eight months. What I choose to do for the next two is to keep on learning and listening, and never take "please" and "thank you" for granted. This is where I am in life, and with it, I am content.
Monday, April 27, 2009
Dreams and Adventures
Life is an adventure -- this is one thing, of which, I am certain.
Over the past month, I have experienced what can only be described as a whirlwind of insanity. I went from wearing Santa Claus-inspired bubble bath beards to sparkling heels and a feather boa in a matter of days, touring through the city's sights with some exceptionally interesting humans, and doing the can-can in front of the Moulin Rouge before the show with Amel. I got next to no sleep with some new friends who I shared chocolate and secrets with in my apartment until nine in the morning, and tried not to get caught picking up the ancient bones of the Parisian catacombs while Marko tried to ignore me after my refusal to accept his advice on respect for the deceased.
Two pink suitcases of luggage for my South African adventure and a few fashion magazines later, plus a little sleep, I exited the international terminal in Cape Town and saw Ali making her way towards the pick-up area with Marko on her cell. After a taxi cab and some overdue updating on each other's lives, we ventured out to "Momma Africa" and ate some crocodile kabobs, ostrich steak, and an antelope jerky that they refer to as "biltong," (excuse my spelling if it's incorrect.)
After all the running around I'd been doing over that week before my arrival, I was absolutely and completely exhausted, and slept deeply and almost eternally on a mattress in Ali's dorm residence until the next morning had completely passed without me. Upon being well-rested, some shopping at the waterfront was in order, followed by a weekend of wine, dancing, and market-scoping. I took a day to truly vacate myself and relax with a classic read, "Catcher and the Rye," and made a plan-of-attack to conquer my tourism needs. I had a great tour of the peninsula, with a small group, and spent hours wandering the botanical gardens of Kirtsenbosch before my two-day safari on a private reserve outside of Cape Town. It was all too wonderful to even describe, and my stay ended far too soon, but we made the best of it an hung out in the castle before we made our hectic way to the airport to say our farewells...
Marko kindly met me at the airport, in spite of his father's presence at his apartment and a very early morning of intense exams at Louis le Grand the next day. Since, it's felt really great to be back in my second home and take in the floral winds and bright skies of springtime in Paris. Getting to hug Etienne again and attack him as the "soap monster" at bath-time also felt amazing. I had begun to miss the noise of a male-dominated household, and even the tickle attacks and inappropriate inquiries of teenage boys. The French coffee is up there on the list of things to miss about being here, as well!
And now, I simply must part for a holiday in Corsica with the Bouyoux family...
Have I mentioned how lucky I am to have gotten this job, with these people, in this absolutely magnificent setting?
La vie est belle.
Over the past month, I have experienced what can only be described as a whirlwind of insanity. I went from wearing Santa Claus-inspired bubble bath beards to sparkling heels and a feather boa in a matter of days, touring through the city's sights with some exceptionally interesting humans, and doing the can-can in front of the Moulin Rouge before the show with Amel. I got next to no sleep with some new friends who I shared chocolate and secrets with in my apartment until nine in the morning, and tried not to get caught picking up the ancient bones of the Parisian catacombs while Marko tried to ignore me after my refusal to accept his advice on respect for the deceased.
Two pink suitcases of luggage for my South African adventure and a few fashion magazines later, plus a little sleep, I exited the international terminal in Cape Town and saw Ali making her way towards the pick-up area with Marko on her cell. After a taxi cab and some overdue updating on each other's lives, we ventured out to "Momma Africa" and ate some crocodile kabobs, ostrich steak, and an antelope jerky that they refer to as "biltong," (excuse my spelling if it's incorrect.)
After all the running around I'd been doing over that week before my arrival, I was absolutely and completely exhausted, and slept deeply and almost eternally on a mattress in Ali's dorm residence until the next morning had completely passed without me. Upon being well-rested, some shopping at the waterfront was in order, followed by a weekend of wine, dancing, and market-scoping. I took a day to truly vacate myself and relax with a classic read, "Catcher and the Rye," and made a plan-of-attack to conquer my tourism needs. I had a great tour of the peninsula, with a small group, and spent hours wandering the botanical gardens of Kirtsenbosch before my two-day safari on a private reserve outside of Cape Town. It was all too wonderful to even describe, and my stay ended far too soon, but we made the best of it an hung out in the castle before we made our hectic way to the airport to say our farewells...
Marko kindly met me at the airport, in spite of his father's presence at his apartment and a very early morning of intense exams at Louis le Grand the next day. Since, it's felt really great to be back in my second home and take in the floral winds and bright skies of springtime in Paris. Getting to hug Etienne again and attack him as the "soap monster" at bath-time also felt amazing. I had begun to miss the noise of a male-dominated household, and even the tickle attacks and inappropriate inquiries of teenage boys. The French coffee is up there on the list of things to miss about being here, as well!
And now, I simply must part for a holiday in Corsica with the Bouyoux family...
Have I mentioned how lucky I am to have gotten this job, with these people, in this absolutely magnificent setting?
La vie est belle.
Thursday, March 26, 2009
A Little Clarification...
I am well aware that I have had more luck than I had expected or asked for in my life in Paris, and although I still consider myself one of the lucky ones, I need to make the point that I have been working since January of my senior year to get here. Luck played a part, but hard work and determination have had and continue to have much larger roles in the creation and maintenance of my new lifestyle.
The initial work consisted of online research, long talks with various persons who had spent time abroad through different studies and/or jobs, a gap-year/city-year programs fair, and working my small-town job as a hostess in a restaurant while working towards my high school graduation. After choosing the program I would follow, the au pair program, I then looked into various organizations as well as private sites and independent profiles before ultimately selecting an organization, which I applied for. The paperwork was entirely in French, and involved several weeks of acquiring recommendations, certificates, legal documents, and a personal profiling and work preference file. After all of the papers were received and the contract with Fee Revee was signed, the woman who was going to set me up with a host family and get me into a language school gave me a phone interview before sending out my profile. After that, I still had to go to my doctor for her to run some tests and fill out my medical forms and vaccine history, as well as hire an under-oath professional translation service for my diploma, have my school re-create an official certificate of my French language level in French, and revise and translate my resume to be submitted.
For a few weeks, I read the profiles of families that were interested in me based on my file, and when I found one that stuck out as potentially too good to be true, I replied with great interest and started exchanging emails with the woman who's now taken on the role of my second mother. She and her family had actually been living in New York City for the past two years and were looking for a nanny who could maintain their toddler's English abilities. Before they left NYC, she wanted to meet me and be certain that it felt like a good match, so I drove out there with my mom to meet them and we signed our official work contract before the afternoon was over. It was then sent to Fee Revee's office outside of Paris and I was left to wait for it to be approved by the French labor department, and also to get my official pre-inscription certificate from France Langue, my school.
There were problems with the post system and, during an extended period of waiting impatiently, my documents never left France. I had planned to visit Germany for two weeks before the commencement of my new life and job in the city of lights, and then take a train from Bremen to Paris once I got there. Unfortunately, work requires a visa, and my visa was dependent on the contents of that envelope. And so, I took my vacation with Nina's family while waiting to find out when my future landed in New Hampshire, and had my flight's return date changed to the end of August and went to the consulate in Boston after I came back. A week later, when I got my passport back in the mail, I was able to book my new flight to Paris, and my mom graciously put it on her credit card.
My visa was not the long-term eleven-month visa which I had applied for, but instead expired in December, with a note to get a residency permit upon arrival at the prefecture, which is essentially a complicated police department that also performs a lot of the functions which a town hall performs in America. I have been there a total of five times, with my constantly growing file of paperwork, and have$ been sent to the wrong office and told that I was in need of more documents on multiple occasions. In November, they made me an appointment with a doctor's office in Paris to check me over and put me into their medical system before they finally gave me my permit. Which, again, expired within three months. They never told me I needed to have finished payments for all three trimesters of school in order for them to approve my student status needed to remain in the country.
Since, I have been back to the prefecture and attempted to renew my student status, and am currently set up with an appointment to do just that.
All of this is only the official/professional piece of the equation. Factor in travel planning, moving adjustments, culture shock, homesickness, school, the job itself, setting up phone and bank accounts, etc. and it becomes exceptionally clear that being here and being happy here is not and never was a simple gift or an act of magic.
That said, and hopefully understood, my experience in Paris has been and continues to be absolutely fabulous. I just hope I've made it clear that there has been an abundance of direct effort, hard work, and determination that has gotten me to this point. Our lives are what we make of them, and we are responsible for creating our own experiences -- this is no exception.
The initial work consisted of online research, long talks with various persons who had spent time abroad through different studies and/or jobs, a gap-year/city-year programs fair, and working my small-town job as a hostess in a restaurant while working towards my high school graduation. After choosing the program I would follow, the au pair program, I then looked into various organizations as well as private sites and independent profiles before ultimately selecting an organization, which I applied for. The paperwork was entirely in French, and involved several weeks of acquiring recommendations, certificates, legal documents, and a personal profiling and work preference file. After all of the papers were received and the contract with Fee Revee was signed, the woman who was going to set me up with a host family and get me into a language school gave me a phone interview before sending out my profile. After that, I still had to go to my doctor for her to run some tests and fill out my medical forms and vaccine history, as well as hire an under-oath professional translation service for my diploma, have my school re-create an official certificate of my French language level in French, and revise and translate my resume to be submitted.
For a few weeks, I read the profiles of families that were interested in me based on my file, and when I found one that stuck out as potentially too good to be true, I replied with great interest and started exchanging emails with the woman who's now taken on the role of my second mother. She and her family had actually been living in New York City for the past two years and were looking for a nanny who could maintain their toddler's English abilities. Before they left NYC, she wanted to meet me and be certain that it felt like a good match, so I drove out there with my mom to meet them and we signed our official work contract before the afternoon was over. It was then sent to Fee Revee's office outside of Paris and I was left to wait for it to be approved by the French labor department, and also to get my official pre-inscription certificate from France Langue, my school.
There were problems with the post system and, during an extended period of waiting impatiently, my documents never left France. I had planned to visit Germany for two weeks before the commencement of my new life and job in the city of lights, and then take a train from Bremen to Paris once I got there. Unfortunately, work requires a visa, and my visa was dependent on the contents of that envelope. And so, I took my vacation with Nina's family while waiting to find out when my future landed in New Hampshire, and had my flight's return date changed to the end of August and went to the consulate in Boston after I came back. A week later, when I got my passport back in the mail, I was able to book my new flight to Paris, and my mom graciously put it on her credit card.
My visa was not the long-term eleven-month visa which I had applied for, but instead expired in December, with a note to get a residency permit upon arrival at the prefecture, which is essentially a complicated police department that also performs a lot of the functions which a town hall performs in America. I have been there a total of five times, with my constantly growing file of paperwork, and have$ been sent to the wrong office and told that I was in need of more documents on multiple occasions. In November, they made me an appointment with a doctor's office in Paris to check me over and put me into their medical system before they finally gave me my permit. Which, again, expired within three months. They never told me I needed to have finished payments for all three trimesters of school in order for them to approve my student status needed to remain in the country.
Since, I have been back to the prefecture and attempted to renew my student status, and am currently set up with an appointment to do just that.
All of this is only the official/professional piece of the equation. Factor in travel planning, moving adjustments, culture shock, homesickness, school, the job itself, setting up phone and bank accounts, etc. and it becomes exceptionally clear that being here and being happy here is not and never was a simple gift or an act of magic.
That said, and hopefully understood, my experience in Paris has been and continues to be absolutely fabulous. I just hope I've made it clear that there has been an abundance of direct effort, hard work, and determination that has gotten me to this point. Our lives are what we make of them, and we are responsible for creating our own experiences -- this is no exception.
Saturday, March 21, 2009
Paris, mon amour...
I am absolutely consumed by the love I have for Paris.
I made pancakes for the boys in the morning, took pleasure and sweet time in getting myself all dolled up and feeling fabulous, and spent the afternoon and evening with two exceptional humans. We watched La Vague, a German drama with French subtitles, and it really made me think after we left. It was very well done, and I highly recommend it. (The translation of the title is "The Wave," if anyone reading this decides to take interest in it and look it up.)
Afterwards, we went to the Hard Rock Cafe of Paris and ate American food with fruity cocktails and talked too loud and laughed too much. We walked through the Champs Elysses and decided to return when it's warmer to jump into the fountains at Concorde, and eventually went into Hagen Daas for dolce de leche with whipped cream and sat on a bench under the lights until midnight. It was a great night, and I realized as I was walking down the famous avenue, that all the work I did to get here is incredibly worth the results I'm living right now. Even when I feel lonely, I can walk through the streets and see the gardens and smile at the sight of my heart's desire.
I made pancakes for the boys in the morning, took pleasure and sweet time in getting myself all dolled up and feeling fabulous, and spent the afternoon and evening with two exceptional humans. We watched La Vague, a German drama with French subtitles, and it really made me think after we left. It was very well done, and I highly recommend it. (The translation of the title is "The Wave," if anyone reading this decides to take interest in it and look it up.)
Afterwards, we went to the Hard Rock Cafe of Paris and ate American food with fruity cocktails and talked too loud and laughed too much. We walked through the Champs Elysses and decided to return when it's warmer to jump into the fountains at Concorde, and eventually went into Hagen Daas for dolce de leche with whipped cream and sat on a bench under the lights until midnight. It was a great night, and I realized as I was walking down the famous avenue, that all the work I did to get here is incredibly worth the results I'm living right now. Even when I feel lonely, I can walk through the streets and see the gardens and smile at the sight of my heart's desire.
Friday, March 6, 2009
Why I Love This Job
When the sky is grey and a drizzle tumbles down from the sky and dampens my trenchcoat as I walk by the bookstore, taking in the sweet smells coming from the flower shop around the corner, I know that I live in Paris. The vespas, smartcars, and ancient romantic architecture overflowing with small garden spaces set the perfect backdrop for these afternoon promenades through the city of my dreams. Late-night taxi rides back to my home in the sixteenth arrondisment showcase the illuminated city through my backseat window, and it captivates me. In the magical times that seem to generate themselves here, I forget about how much my feet hurt after dancing for hours in stilettos, and even how much I miss all the little comforts of my small-town New Hampshire life.
A midday cup of Carte Noir coffee and pleasant chats with Marie and Angela have provided me a new form of comfort, along with the bedtime kisses I receive from Etienne at the end of each workday. The thousands of reasons I could come up with to explain what it is that makes me able to truly enjoy the life I have here could never fully captivate the immense pleasure I get out of the rare and precious moments when the four year old I adore comes through and surprises me with small, yet at the same time grand, breakthroughs in his young life. Sometimes, it's just a smile that he gives me when the day seems long, and other times, it's the first ABC song or word or counting that he shows me he can do all by himself. Occasionally, it's a day of polite requests and unlimited laughter, or, my personal favorite, an hour or two of make-believe that enraptures the two of us so deeply that I forget that I'm at work.
To top off having the most incredible job I could have asked for in the most magnificent place I could ever imagine, my host family is a true second family who makes me feel worthwhile when I want to fall apart, and they do it without trying or even realizing it.
We went to Verbier, Switzerland, in the Alps, and the mountains were glass sculptures hand-blown by the universe for humans to admire for all time. Slow mornings in my own big, comfy bed, led to long breakfasts with Etienne and hours of snowman-building, slipping and sliding in slush, and sledding down the bottom of the mountain. Nearly every night was spent with Disney movies and room service before bed, and I wouldn't change it for the best restaurant in all of Europe. The landscape and long drive made me reminiscent of the White Mountain trips with Daddy every winter, and I wrote him a long letter telling him how much I wished he could be there.
Marie saw my manly old ski gear and insisted on giving me money to go shopping and buy a hot pink replacement, knowing I couldn't afford it on my own. She is the most generous woman I've ever had the pleasure of knowing, and I get to live daily in her presence. This is just one of the unlimited and ever-growing reasons that I admire her.
Upon our return to the city of lights, I enjoyed a day of relaxation, painting, self-pampering, and meeting up with a good friend for the evening. When work started again on Monday, it felt like a coming-home of sorts. In getting back into the swing of things and catching up on emails and re-writing my to-do list, I heard from my friend Ali from South Africa and decided to check up on the possibility of making a trip down to visit her, just to see if it's at all possible. As it turns out, it's not only possible, it's going to happen!
My payment for the Swiss vacation was much larger than I had expected, based on Marie's significant re-evaluation of my work during those couple of weeks. I was shocked and blushing when she informed me of the figure, and in all honesty, I'm still a bit mind-boggled at the concept of being paid to take one of the best vacations I've ever had. Nevertheless, it's this new-found financial surplus which is allowing me to make my African adventure next month a reality.
I'm more than aware that I've stated it over and over ever since my arrival, but it's something that cannot be proclaimed enough: I am one of the lucky ones.
A midday cup of Carte Noir coffee and pleasant chats with Marie and Angela have provided me a new form of comfort, along with the bedtime kisses I receive from Etienne at the end of each workday. The thousands of reasons I could come up with to explain what it is that makes me able to truly enjoy the life I have here could never fully captivate the immense pleasure I get out of the rare and precious moments when the four year old I adore comes through and surprises me with small, yet at the same time grand, breakthroughs in his young life. Sometimes, it's just a smile that he gives me when the day seems long, and other times, it's the first ABC song or word or counting that he shows me he can do all by himself. Occasionally, it's a day of polite requests and unlimited laughter, or, my personal favorite, an hour or two of make-believe that enraptures the two of us so deeply that I forget that I'm at work.
To top off having the most incredible job I could have asked for in the most magnificent place I could ever imagine, my host family is a true second family who makes me feel worthwhile when I want to fall apart, and they do it without trying or even realizing it.
We went to Verbier, Switzerland, in the Alps, and the mountains were glass sculptures hand-blown by the universe for humans to admire for all time. Slow mornings in my own big, comfy bed, led to long breakfasts with Etienne and hours of snowman-building, slipping and sliding in slush, and sledding down the bottom of the mountain. Nearly every night was spent with Disney movies and room service before bed, and I wouldn't change it for the best restaurant in all of Europe. The landscape and long drive made me reminiscent of the White Mountain trips with Daddy every winter, and I wrote him a long letter telling him how much I wished he could be there.
Marie saw my manly old ski gear and insisted on giving me money to go shopping and buy a hot pink replacement, knowing I couldn't afford it on my own. She is the most generous woman I've ever had the pleasure of knowing, and I get to live daily in her presence. This is just one of the unlimited and ever-growing reasons that I admire her.
Upon our return to the city of lights, I enjoyed a day of relaxation, painting, self-pampering, and meeting up with a good friend for the evening. When work started again on Monday, it felt like a coming-home of sorts. In getting back into the swing of things and catching up on emails and re-writing my to-do list, I heard from my friend Ali from South Africa and decided to check up on the possibility of making a trip down to visit her, just to see if it's at all possible. As it turns out, it's not only possible, it's going to happen!
My payment for the Swiss vacation was much larger than I had expected, based on Marie's significant re-evaluation of my work during those couple of weeks. I was shocked and blushing when she informed me of the figure, and in all honesty, I'm still a bit mind-boggled at the concept of being paid to take one of the best vacations I've ever had. Nevertheless, it's this new-found financial surplus which is allowing me to make my African adventure next month a reality.
I'm more than aware that I've stated it over and over ever since my arrival, but it's something that cannot be proclaimed enough: I am one of the lucky ones.
Tuesday, February 3, 2009
Nina, Laura, and Me in Paris
The last four days were really great, and I know that the next time I see my German sister will be just as fabulous, too! I'm not sure when it will be, but I am very certain that it will come at least once more before I go back to New Hampshire.
While they were here, we went out into the city to be tourists and have fun. Sightseeing was cool, running around at night was, to say the least, interesting, but falling at 2 am trying to catch a taxi did NOT end well! I tore two ligaments in my wrist and one of them took a sliver of bone with it, so now I'm in a brace for three weeks. It could have been much worse, I know, and thankfully it's my right hand and I'm left-handed. Still, I blame the impossible-to-get taxis in Paris for this!
I would love to type up far more, but it's a little difficult with one hand, so I will leave it at that, and just think about the fun I had with the girls taking crazy photos and and dancing around my apartment with champagne...
While they were here, we went out into the city to be tourists and have fun. Sightseeing was cool, running around at night was, to say the least, interesting, but falling at 2 am trying to catch a taxi did NOT end well! I tore two ligaments in my wrist and one of them took a sliver of bone with it, so now I'm in a brace for three weeks. It could have been much worse, I know, and thankfully it's my right hand and I'm left-handed. Still, I blame the impossible-to-get taxis in Paris for this!
I would love to type up far more, but it's a little difficult with one hand, so I will leave it at that, and just think about the fun I had with the girls taking crazy photos and and dancing around my apartment with champagne...
Tuesday, January 20, 2009
To Cherish Forever
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.
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.
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
Sunday, December 21, 2008
From Amsterdam to Paris
The past weeks have been almost TOO eventful, and I've certainly found plenty of ways to keep myself busy. The trimester is now over, my Christmas cards should be getting to America right about now, I spent a lot of time with friends and even visited Amsterdam with a few of them last weekend, and now my parents are going to arrive in a mere matter of days! Then, next week, we're going to go stay with Nina for New Year's!!
Things are going well, on the whole, and I really feel like I have a true second home here. My job, aside from long hours, is fabulous, and I've completely fallen in love with the little boy. I love having friends, too. That's really REALLY nice.
Things are going well, on the whole, and I really feel like I have a true second home here. My job, aside from long hours, is fabulous, and I've completely fallen in love with the little boy. I love having friends, too. That's really REALLY nice.
Tuesday, December 2, 2008
Thanksgiving with Mom
Things have finally started to seem manageable over the past week and a half, and I am absolutely positive that spending time with my mom and enjoying some time off with her has played a huge role in that.
I met her with a taxi at the airport on Wednesday, and we retreated to the house for a little tour, some freshening up, and a homemade lunch from Marie with the family. I showed her the cute little streets in the neighborhood, she met Marie's mom, Annie, and we had a mini-tour of the Champs-Elysses at the end of the night in her car, stopping for a few minutes to watch the Eiffel Tower sparkle on the hour. We both slept incredibly well, and we continued to check out little streets and shops over the following days. We visited the Notre Dame garden, the Latin Quarter, the Champs-Elysses Christmas market, and enjoyed our fair share of crepes and cappuccinos. Saturday morning, we made bread and pies with Marie, and then went out into the city and I showed her my favorite shop and introduced her to some of my friends. Sunday morning was spent asleep, with a few hours of market-browsing which resulted in my purchase of a very cute pair of new suede gloves with bows on them, and then back to the house to prepare and enjoy a Thanksgiving feast! Everyone adored it, and we cheated a little and had some French pastries with the pumpkin pie.
My mom and I also did a little bit of Christmas planning, and we re-arranged my little basement apartment to make it feel more like MY home, and I absolutely adore it. I'm so lucky to have my own little place, and it's incredibly cute to boot!
I went to the airport with Mom on Monday for the 1 30 flight, sending her off with a full suitcase of things I asked her to bring back to America for me, as well as lots of love and a few sentimental tears.
Since then, I've recommenced my regular work schedule and somehow managed to keep my place clean. I'm still working on my seemingly eternal to-do list, and Ali and I realized that we didn't have nearly enough time for planning our weekend appropriately, and will be leaving on an overnight bus next Friday instead of this one. I've decided that this is a good thing, because it gives me an entire weekend free to finish my to-do list, get my Christmas shopping done, and prepare my cards and gifts to be sent away with plenty of time in advance. Then, I get to go ice skating tomorrow night with Ali and some others, and go out with Sophia and Carla Saturday.
December is going to be a fabulous month -- I've decided.
I met her with a taxi at the airport on Wednesday, and we retreated to the house for a little tour, some freshening up, and a homemade lunch from Marie with the family. I showed her the cute little streets in the neighborhood, she met Marie's mom, Annie, and we had a mini-tour of the Champs-Elysses at the end of the night in her car, stopping for a few minutes to watch the Eiffel Tower sparkle on the hour. We both slept incredibly well, and we continued to check out little streets and shops over the following days. We visited the Notre Dame garden, the Latin Quarter, the Champs-Elysses Christmas market, and enjoyed our fair share of crepes and cappuccinos. Saturday morning, we made bread and pies with Marie, and then went out into the city and I showed her my favorite shop and introduced her to some of my friends. Sunday morning was spent asleep, with a few hours of market-browsing which resulted in my purchase of a very cute pair of new suede gloves with bows on them, and then back to the house to prepare and enjoy a Thanksgiving feast! Everyone adored it, and we cheated a little and had some French pastries with the pumpkin pie.
My mom and I also did a little bit of Christmas planning, and we re-arranged my little basement apartment to make it feel more like MY home, and I absolutely adore it. I'm so lucky to have my own little place, and it's incredibly cute to boot!
I went to the airport with Mom on Monday for the 1 30 flight, sending her off with a full suitcase of things I asked her to bring back to America for me, as well as lots of love and a few sentimental tears.
Since then, I've recommenced my regular work schedule and somehow managed to keep my place clean. I'm still working on my seemingly eternal to-do list, and Ali and I realized that we didn't have nearly enough time for planning our weekend appropriately, and will be leaving on an overnight bus next Friday instead of this one. I've decided that this is a good thing, because it gives me an entire weekend free to finish my to-do list, get my Christmas shopping done, and prepare my cards and gifts to be sent away with plenty of time in advance. Then, I get to go ice skating tomorrow night with Ali and some others, and go out with Sophia and Carla Saturday.
December is going to be a fabulous month -- I've decided.
Tuesday, November 25, 2008
All Over the Place
I've been in my room, restless with anxiety into the wee hours of the morning, and about the city, from Disneyland to bars and dance clubs. Regardless of my location, I've yet to be able to get some sleep prior to three am, and I end up skipping classes because I know that I'll never be able to catch any real shut-eye otherwise. One moment, I'm excited as a little kid in Disney with new friends, no parents, and the week's pay in my bag, and another moment I'm absolutely convinced that I'm about to burst at the seams I'm falling apart so fast. Then I meet some one to share pasta and frustrations with, and it's a little more bearable -- until I'm all alone again.
That's just how it's been.
Fortunately, I have some really great parents out there who let me vent to them at all hours, and my crazy/wonderful mother is about to join me on this side of the Atlantic in less than twelve hours. I believe this to be a very positive event, and also one which I'm hoping will bring me out of this awful slump and make me feel much more worth-while and much less restless.
"Finish each day and be done with it…You have done what you could; some blunders and absurdities no doubt crept in; forget them as soon as you can. Tomorrow is a new day; you shall begin it well and serenely.” -Ralph Waldo Emerson
That's just how it's been.
Fortunately, I have some really great parents out there who let me vent to them at all hours, and my crazy/wonderful mother is about to join me on this side of the Atlantic in less than twelve hours. I believe this to be a very positive event, and also one which I'm hoping will bring me out of this awful slump and make me feel much more worth-while and much less restless.
"Finish each day and be done with it…You have done what you could; some blunders and absurdities no doubt crept in; forget them as soon as you can. Tomorrow is a new day; you shall begin it well and serenely.” -Ralph Waldo Emerson
Thursday, November 13, 2008
Absolute Insanity
Sore throat, some very long days, making plans, and experiencing the widest range of emotions possible. For a single instant, I feel pure bliss, but before the moment even gets a fighting chance, it becomes a fleeting feeling chased away by growing anxiety. Even when I stop to think on all my good fortune, my mind does not cease its stirring.
The night before last, it all hit me. All those who've been through an experience like this, they gave me a fair warning about how hard and suddenly the new reality comes crashing down, with no warning. I can't describe it, but now I know what they were speaking of.
I'm a fortunate girl, but all to often a lonely and confused one, who questions and ponders absolutely everything. More than anything else, I question myself. I came here to discover a life away from what I know, and find myself trying desperately to rediscover what I thought I knew. Ultimately, I am a person who thinks and explores, but who can rarely say that she truly knows.
The night before last, it all hit me. All those who've been through an experience like this, they gave me a fair warning about how hard and suddenly the new reality comes crashing down, with no warning. I can't describe it, but now I know what they were speaking of.
I'm a fortunate girl, but all to often a lonely and confused one, who questions and ponders absolutely everything. More than anything else, I question myself. I came here to discover a life away from what I know, and find myself trying desperately to rediscover what I thought I knew. Ultimately, I am a person who thinks and explores, but who can rarely say that she truly knows.
Thursday, November 6, 2008
Recent Adventures
From the Eiffel Tower and the Sistine Chapel to running around Paris with friends and making plans with family, not to mention getting all hyped up over the election, I have had an abundance of adventures throughout the short time frame of a mere two weeks.
My Saturday in Paris was practically perfect. It began with a late morning, long shower, and a couple of hours that seemed to exist for the sole purpose of my private enjoyment. After donning a fabulous and fashionable attire well-suited for perusing the city streets, I did a little down-town shopping and met Carla and Laura at the metro to ascend the most iconic symbol of Paris. It was exciting, with a view that was slightly fogged but stunning nevertheless. Following our decent was a trip to Starbucks, where I enjoyed my first mocha and cheesecake in many months, and then checked out the rest of the shopping center it was located in. We ended the evening with spaghetti, coffee, and one of my favorite movies in my little apartment.
It was the first time that I've had anyone over to my place here, and it made me thoroughly appreciate having my own space to come in and go out as I please, separate from the ongoings of the rest of the house, where I can cook, bathe, and play hostess in my own space. I truly believe that I'm one of the lucky ones.
After the girls left for the night, I finished my laundry and packing for Rome, and took off the next morning with the family. The place we stayed was very comfortable, and the sights were some of the most beautiful that one could expect to see in an entire lifetime. I babysat for a very large percentage of my time there, as expected, but I had the great fortune of seeing the Roman Forum, Colosseum, Vatican, Sistine Chapel, and countless basilicas. In addition, the Italian architecture on any given street is straight out of an old Hollywood film, lush with greenery and life on every corner of the narrow stone streets, and a starving musician in front of a bistro never far away.
I am now certain that I am one of the lucky ones.
The past days have been long but rewarding, and I'll forever cherish the memories in the making of tickle-war laughter and and smiling faces smothered in maple syrup. The brief moments of pure bliss when I feel the warmth of a toddler next to me, smiling at the tales of Dr. Suess, or when I find myself going back in time and playing monsters without any inhibitions, are by far worth every second of homesickness and frustration that I face.
The night of the election was far more bountiful in online news-reading in bed than any actual rest, as the time difference caused me to wait for the results until the wee hours of the morning before allowing myself to place my head on the pillow and close my eyes. Even considering the late hour of my repose, I awoke while the house was still asleep, too excited to lie still any longer. Instead, pancakes and cookies became my cathartic release of enthusiastic celebration for America's future, the one that I voted for.
The evening came to a quiet close with Marie's mother present for a visit, and I was invited to go out for a few hours of music, conversation, and cocktails with new friends. My return home was just before one, and I slipped into cozy pajamas and ate a bowl of cereal in front of the computer.
My mom and I had been talking about the possibility of her paying a visit to me for Thanksgiving, seeing as the family would like to continue celebrating the America holiday they so enjoyed during their time in New York, and my mother has the typical school vacation time off for the big day. Soon after mentioning to Marie, telling her that the main obstacle is financial, she checked out the price of the flight for herself and offered to split the cost in exchange for a lesson on cooking a traditional Thanksgiving dinner! I immediately sent a message to my mom, and she told me that she wouldn't know for sure until the next day, which was last night. She is officially booking an overnight flight for the Tuesday before the big day, and will arrive in Paris to visit, cook, and enjoy with me and my fabulous French family.
I am truly one of the lucky ones.
My Saturday in Paris was practically perfect. It began with a late morning, long shower, and a couple of hours that seemed to exist for the sole purpose of my private enjoyment. After donning a fabulous and fashionable attire well-suited for perusing the city streets, I did a little down-town shopping and met Carla and Laura at the metro to ascend the most iconic symbol of Paris. It was exciting, with a view that was slightly fogged but stunning nevertheless. Following our decent was a trip to Starbucks, where I enjoyed my first mocha and cheesecake in many months, and then checked out the rest of the shopping center it was located in. We ended the evening with spaghetti, coffee, and one of my favorite movies in my little apartment.
It was the first time that I've had anyone over to my place here, and it made me thoroughly appreciate having my own space to come in and go out as I please, separate from the ongoings of the rest of the house, where I can cook, bathe, and play hostess in my own space. I truly believe that I'm one of the lucky ones.
After the girls left for the night, I finished my laundry and packing for Rome, and took off the next morning with the family. The place we stayed was very comfortable, and the sights were some of the most beautiful that one could expect to see in an entire lifetime. I babysat for a very large percentage of my time there, as expected, but I had the great fortune of seeing the Roman Forum, Colosseum, Vatican, Sistine Chapel, and countless basilicas. In addition, the Italian architecture on any given street is straight out of an old Hollywood film, lush with greenery and life on every corner of the narrow stone streets, and a starving musician in front of a bistro never far away.
I am now certain that I am one of the lucky ones.
The past days have been long but rewarding, and I'll forever cherish the memories in the making of tickle-war laughter and and smiling faces smothered in maple syrup. The brief moments of pure bliss when I feel the warmth of a toddler next to me, smiling at the tales of Dr. Suess, or when I find myself going back in time and playing monsters without any inhibitions, are by far worth every second of homesickness and frustration that I face.
The night of the election was far more bountiful in online news-reading in bed than any actual rest, as the time difference caused me to wait for the results until the wee hours of the morning before allowing myself to place my head on the pillow and close my eyes. Even considering the late hour of my repose, I awoke while the house was still asleep, too excited to lie still any longer. Instead, pancakes and cookies became my cathartic release of enthusiastic celebration for America's future, the one that I voted for.
The evening came to a quiet close with Marie's mother present for a visit, and I was invited to go out for a few hours of music, conversation, and cocktails with new friends. My return home was just before one, and I slipped into cozy pajamas and ate a bowl of cereal in front of the computer.
My mom and I had been talking about the possibility of her paying a visit to me for Thanksgiving, seeing as the family would like to continue celebrating the America holiday they so enjoyed during their time in New York, and my mother has the typical school vacation time off for the big day. Soon after mentioning to Marie, telling her that the main obstacle is financial, she checked out the price of the flight for herself and offered to split the cost in exchange for a lesson on cooking a traditional Thanksgiving dinner! I immediately sent a message to my mom, and she told me that she wouldn't know for sure until the next day, which was last night. She is officially booking an overnight flight for the Tuesday before the big day, and will arrive in Paris to visit, cook, and enjoy with me and my fabulous French family.
I am truly one of the lucky ones.
Thursday, October 23, 2008
All At Once
I'm in Paris, with a million and twelve thoughts racing through my being, and searching for the words to express all of them. It's exciting, and I'm learning a lot, about everything.
About people, about the French government, about European cultures, about fashion, about language, and about who I am through who I know I am not. I'm not some ugly un-educated American, and I'm not a graceful and put-together Parisian either. I don't keep regular schedules, I'm selfish with my teddy bear, and I always want to fix everything. It's not much, what I know for sure, but it's something, and I'm able to find some solace in the quiet hours spent alone, with my diary, when I can openly admit to everything, getting to know myself.
During the this time of learning, I'm also doing a lot. My last visit to the prefecture was disappointing, and I'm starting to take the idea of writing a book about all the things no one ever tells you seriously...
Also, school's been going well, for the most part, in spite of my eternal hatred towards my alarm clock and my constant battle with the snooze button. This past weekend, I went on an excursion to Bourgogne with the school. I learned a lot about wine, made new friends, saw how gorgeous the countryside vineyards truly are, and started planning a trip to Amsterdam with one of the girls I met. It was a fabulous mini-vacation, and the girl who I shared a room with is going to go up the Eiffel Tower with me tomorrow. Both socially and psychologically, it was exactly what I needed.
The first half of this week was exhausting, and I worked a lot, but today, I finally have a couple of hours just for myself to do all the little things that are always there, or to do absolutely nothing. Things are going in a promising direction, and my weekend is looking fabulous: No classes tomorrow (Friday) morning, drinks after work with a girl from school, being a huge tourist and going up the Eiffel Tower Saturday, and our departure for Rome Sunday morning.
Honestly, I have no idea what to expect in Rome, how much I'll work, or what I'll get to see, but none of that really matters to me, not now. Simply knowing that I'll rest my head in one of the world's most beautiful cities for a whole week is more than enough for me.
It's strange, how, last week I felt as though my new world was about to crash in on me, and how, right now, it seems to be opening up to me. All of the annoying, horrible, beautiful, wonderful, confusing, fabulous things and events are happening all at once.
About people, about the French government, about European cultures, about fashion, about language, and about who I am through who I know I am not. I'm not some ugly un-educated American, and I'm not a graceful and put-together Parisian either. I don't keep regular schedules, I'm selfish with my teddy bear, and I always want to fix everything. It's not much, what I know for sure, but it's something, and I'm able to find some solace in the quiet hours spent alone, with my diary, when I can openly admit to everything, getting to know myself.
During the this time of learning, I'm also doing a lot. My last visit to the prefecture was disappointing, and I'm starting to take the idea of writing a book about all the things no one ever tells you seriously...
Also, school's been going well, for the most part, in spite of my eternal hatred towards my alarm clock and my constant battle with the snooze button. This past weekend, I went on an excursion to Bourgogne with the school. I learned a lot about wine, made new friends, saw how gorgeous the countryside vineyards truly are, and started planning a trip to Amsterdam with one of the girls I met. It was a fabulous mini-vacation, and the girl who I shared a room with is going to go up the Eiffel Tower with me tomorrow. Both socially and psychologically, it was exactly what I needed.
The first half of this week was exhausting, and I worked a lot, but today, I finally have a couple of hours just for myself to do all the little things that are always there, or to do absolutely nothing. Things are going in a promising direction, and my weekend is looking fabulous: No classes tomorrow (Friday) morning, drinks after work with a girl from school, being a huge tourist and going up the Eiffel Tower Saturday, and our departure for Rome Sunday morning.
Honestly, I have no idea what to expect in Rome, how much I'll work, or what I'll get to see, but none of that really matters to me, not now. Simply knowing that I'll rest my head in one of the world's most beautiful cities for a whole week is more than enough for me.
It's strange, how, last week I felt as though my new world was about to crash in on me, and how, right now, it seems to be opening up to me. All of the annoying, horrible, beautiful, wonderful, confusing, fabulous things and events are happening all at once.
Wednesday, October 8, 2008
Recent Highlights
I've been getting things done lately. I got the last of my voting papers in the mail, and completed and shipped them immediately, and worked on my self-assigned to-do list. It's half done, which is a huge accomplishment for me! It included things like sewing a few minor tears in clothing, getting myself set up with a cell phone, and getting my mini-fridge stocked with healthy snacks. All of my initial paperwork is pretty much done, and I'm just waiting for my year-long subway pass to come in the mail, and get my official application for my residency permit taken care of, which I should be able to do on Friday morning.
It feels really good to prove to myself that I really can do all of this, on my own, without anyone else having to coax me along my way. Sometimes, I even get up in the morning WITHOUT hitting the snooze button, and if you know me well, you know what a huge accomplishment it is that I can be responsible at 6 am! Even though I don't enjoy following through with all the responsible things that I know I should do, I'm forcing myself to do them, knowing that it will (hopefully) be worth it afterwards.
With school starting, I feel like I know what to expect a little bit more. My schedule and the course outlines are definite and given, and the people there are in similar situations as I am, and I can meet people easily. I haven't hung out with anyone yet, but I just got my phone Monday and figured out how to use it properly and what my access codes are today, so I can exchange numbers with the girls I've been talking to tomorrow, and see if we can do something this weekend. I'm probably going to the American Church again on Sunday, too.
My classes themselves are going to teach me a lot, I think. I'm studying, even though I don't technically have to, to make sure I absorb as much of the language as possible. My history class is more difficult than I expected, and I'm the youngest person in both classes, so I think I have less experience than most of the others. Still, my work ethic is strong, and I'm making sure it stays strong, and I'm hoping that will help me catch up. I started reading a children's guide to French history, taking notes on the words I don't know as well as the major things that I think might be important. My hope is that it will simultaneously improve my vocabulary and give me a basic understanding of the history, which is a really important part of the culture here.
Most of what's been going on with me here has been more internal than cultural, like my revolutionary change in the level of self-discipline I use and the baby steps I'm taking to be the person I want to become. Sure, the language and cultural understanding have been gradually making process, but it's the self-discovery that's consuming me the most lately. My journal is already half full of my many contemplations and questionings about what's important and what and who it is that I'm being molded into... which I have decided is a good thing.
For my final note, let me share with you the short and interesting conversation I had with Laurent a few hours ago:
I was watching a dubbed Grey's Anatomy rerun in my room, finishing up some writing for the evening, and he knocked on my door. When I opened it, he asked me for my date of birth, and told me that they were ordering tickets for the family vacation at the end of the month. First, he commented on how young I am, which he apparently hadn't really realized prior to hearing me say "1990," and then told me "We've decided to go to Rome." Then he said goodnight and closed the door.
I'm going to ROME! Okay, I'll be baby-sitting in Rome while the rest of the family does adult-like things every night, but, I'm still going to Rome! I'd casually mention it, like Laurent did, but I'm a young, poor, excited American who's just starting to get out of the country, and I get to go to Rome, and without having to worry about how to pay for it!
ROME! That's a super-happy thought! :-)
It feels really good to prove to myself that I really can do all of this, on my own, without anyone else having to coax me along my way. Sometimes, I even get up in the morning WITHOUT hitting the snooze button, and if you know me well, you know what a huge accomplishment it is that I can be responsible at 6 am! Even though I don't enjoy following through with all the responsible things that I know I should do, I'm forcing myself to do them, knowing that it will (hopefully) be worth it afterwards.
With school starting, I feel like I know what to expect a little bit more. My schedule and the course outlines are definite and given, and the people there are in similar situations as I am, and I can meet people easily. I haven't hung out with anyone yet, but I just got my phone Monday and figured out how to use it properly and what my access codes are today, so I can exchange numbers with the girls I've been talking to tomorrow, and see if we can do something this weekend. I'm probably going to the American Church again on Sunday, too.
My classes themselves are going to teach me a lot, I think. I'm studying, even though I don't technically have to, to make sure I absorb as much of the language as possible. My history class is more difficult than I expected, and I'm the youngest person in both classes, so I think I have less experience than most of the others. Still, my work ethic is strong, and I'm making sure it stays strong, and I'm hoping that will help me catch up. I started reading a children's guide to French history, taking notes on the words I don't know as well as the major things that I think might be important. My hope is that it will simultaneously improve my vocabulary and give me a basic understanding of the history, which is a really important part of the culture here.
Most of what's been going on with me here has been more internal than cultural, like my revolutionary change in the level of self-discipline I use and the baby steps I'm taking to be the person I want to become. Sure, the language and cultural understanding have been gradually making process, but it's the self-discovery that's consuming me the most lately. My journal is already half full of my many contemplations and questionings about what's important and what and who it is that I'm being molded into... which I have decided is a good thing.
For my final note, let me share with you the short and interesting conversation I had with Laurent a few hours ago:
I was watching a dubbed Grey's Anatomy rerun in my room, finishing up some writing for the evening, and he knocked on my door. When I opened it, he asked me for my date of birth, and told me that they were ordering tickets for the family vacation at the end of the month. First, he commented on how young I am, which he apparently hadn't really realized prior to hearing me say "1990," and then told me "We've decided to go to Rome." Then he said goodnight and closed the door.
I'm going to ROME! Okay, I'll be baby-sitting in Rome while the rest of the family does adult-like things every night, but, I'm still going to Rome! I'd casually mention it, like Laurent did, but I'm a young, poor, excited American who's just starting to get out of the country, and I get to go to Rome, and without having to worry about how to pay for it!
ROME! That's a super-happy thought! :-)
Thursday, October 2, 2008
Take Note!
I added a few links to my sidebar -->
I'll be putting my photos into the photobucket, which you can click on and check out at any given time! I'm uploading as I type... so all the pics from Oldenburg to Paris are going up. Eventually, they'll even be organized and stuff, too!
I'll be putting my photos into the photobucket, which you can click on and check out at any given time! I'm uploading as I type... so all the pics from Oldenburg to Paris are going up. Eventually, they'll even be organized and stuff, too!
Monday, September 29, 2008
What I'm Learning From All This...
Okay, so, I'm in the most beautiful city I've ever seen and have always dreamed of with a wonderful host family, surrounded by people who are very kind and considerate of me, regardless of how little we know of each other. I'm one of the lucky ones, and yet, culture shock and homesickness seem to enter my new life with great ease. The lack of comforts I know, in combination with all the abundance of unfamiliar details surrounding me, has absolutely overwhelmed me at times. The different bed , new schedule, language barrier, and all the minor changes in culture and lifestyle all add up in exciting and overwhelming ways I've never before experienced, somehow simultaneously more inspiring and more frustrating than everything else I can remember.
And you know what's been happening inside my mind while all this has been going on? I've over-thought, over-emoted, and over-reacted over the negative side of things, and let myself sit and cry and eat too much junk food, trying to sleep as late as possible every morning because sleep is comforting, and facing each day is exhausting. Oftentimes, it's also incredibly exhilarating, however, as a "morgenmuffel" (the German term for a person who is very grumpy in the mornings,) I am almost never positive about anything throughout the entire "waking up" part of my day, and stress makes me an even bigger morgenmuffel. Then, at the end of the day, I can't get myself to sleep and I end up spending too much time making online contact with my American life, eating chocolate on the laptop, and working myself up over the things I should have done after it's far too late at night to do anything about it!
And, you know what I should have done all this time? Sucked up the anxiety and perpetual hatred of my alarm clock, gotten out of the house, and gone out to accomplish something every day. Going to international places, such as the American Church in Paris and the University of Paris, and introducing myself to new places and attending workshops are things I should have started doing my first week here. It wasn't until yesterday that I went to the American Church, and there, I was welcomed and met a group of college students that I had a lot in common with, and really enjoyed being around. If I had done that three weeks ago, my weekends could have felt a lot less lonely. Then, this morning, while waiting to meet with some one about obtaining my residency permit, I read about weekend programs and meetings for college students to get together and work on art and poetry, and things like that. Why didn't I go to the university's international office and look for things like that in the beginning? Also, I read about how having a regular sleep schedule and nighttime and morning routines takes a lot of stress off your body and makes you feel more rested and energized every day. I'm sure I knew that, but why didn't I acknowledge this before?
Plus, I felt like a lost American that no one knows what to do with ALL MORNING. I spent many hours searching various offices in the city, all of which I was referred to by the previous office, until I ultimately ended up waiting in line to talk to a woman who told me that I need to get more papers, and go through a long application process. Lesson learned there? Patience, planning, allotting extra time, and drinking lattes are all very useful tools when it comes to handling official international affairs. I am incredibly appreciative of my visa not running up for a couple more months right now. Between this and the constant complications and extra things I had to go through before I got here with papers, forms, certificates, translations, my visa, registrations, etc., I think I should write a guide on how to do this, and begin by telling the world not to expect a cake walk and to allot themselves at least six months before their departure to gather all their papers and go through all the applications and registrations. If I ever do something like this again, I'm definitely going to be more efficient, and I'm going to try and get a long-stay visa a couple months before I leave America.
So, I guess there is a sort of moral to my estranged tale. When we go after something, we need to make preparations and use wise planning, and then use the power we hold within us to endure through all of the inevitable complications we encounter. And, ultimately, we need to realize the importance of truly making the best of our situations, which is not an easy task by any means. Sometimes, we literally need to force ourselves to and force ourselves to make the best of our situation no matter how many seemingly legitimate reasons and excuses we can think of to sit in bed and sulk.
And you know what's been happening inside my mind while all this has been going on? I've over-thought, over-emoted, and over-reacted over the negative side of things, and let myself sit and cry and eat too much junk food, trying to sleep as late as possible every morning because sleep is comforting, and facing each day is exhausting. Oftentimes, it's also incredibly exhilarating, however, as a "morgenmuffel" (the German term for a person who is very grumpy in the mornings,) I am almost never positive about anything throughout the entire "waking up" part of my day, and stress makes me an even bigger morgenmuffel. Then, at the end of the day, I can't get myself to sleep and I end up spending too much time making online contact with my American life, eating chocolate on the laptop, and working myself up over the things I should have done after it's far too late at night to do anything about it!
And, you know what I should have done all this time? Sucked up the anxiety and perpetual hatred of my alarm clock, gotten out of the house, and gone out to accomplish something every day. Going to international places, such as the American Church in Paris and the University of Paris, and introducing myself to new places and attending workshops are things I should have started doing my first week here. It wasn't until yesterday that I went to the American Church, and there, I was welcomed and met a group of college students that I had a lot in common with, and really enjoyed being around. If I had done that three weeks ago, my weekends could have felt a lot less lonely. Then, this morning, while waiting to meet with some one about obtaining my residency permit, I read about weekend programs and meetings for college students to get together and work on art and poetry, and things like that. Why didn't I go to the university's international office and look for things like that in the beginning? Also, I read about how having a regular sleep schedule and nighttime and morning routines takes a lot of stress off your body and makes you feel more rested and energized every day. I'm sure I knew that, but why didn't I acknowledge this before?
Plus, I felt like a lost American that no one knows what to do with ALL MORNING. I spent many hours searching various offices in the city, all of which I was referred to by the previous office, until I ultimately ended up waiting in line to talk to a woman who told me that I need to get more papers, and go through a long application process. Lesson learned there? Patience, planning, allotting extra time, and drinking lattes are all very useful tools when it comes to handling official international affairs. I am incredibly appreciative of my visa not running up for a couple more months right now. Between this and the constant complications and extra things I had to go through before I got here with papers, forms, certificates, translations, my visa, registrations, etc., I think I should write a guide on how to do this, and begin by telling the world not to expect a cake walk and to allot themselves at least six months before their departure to gather all their papers and go through all the applications and registrations. If I ever do something like this again, I'm definitely going to be more efficient, and I'm going to try and get a long-stay visa a couple months before I leave America.
So, I guess there is a sort of moral to my estranged tale. When we go after something, we need to make preparations and use wise planning, and then use the power we hold within us to endure through all of the inevitable complications we encounter. And, ultimately, we need to realize the importance of truly making the best of our situations, which is not an easy task by any means. Sometimes, we literally need to force ourselves to and force ourselves to make the best of our situation no matter how many seemingly legitimate reasons and excuses we can think of to sit in bed and sulk.
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