I am officially in my second week of my second France trip. Wow, how much has changed. And yet how nothing has. My therapist remarked how my lens had changed, but the things around me have too, and it is a taking a minute to readjust. There's always culture shock, no matter how many times you've been somewhere, the stress and joys of living with a host family family, my own whack-a-mole mental health issues, jet lag, and classes.
Being here is still a dream. There's nowhere I'd rather be. But, having arrived, I had very much my head up my ass and each foot in a different world. I could not handle all of the above.
When I arrived, my host family was late. My anxiety rose to drastic levels, and when I arrived, I hadn't eaten a thing, had not slept in over 24 hours, was scared to see my host family as I was afraid things had changed, and I was trying desperately to stay awake til 8 or 9 without a nap to ward off jet lag.
Needless to say I talked their heads off in an anxiety driven, exhausted stupor for nearly two hours.
Which, honestly, helped set the tone for my week.
To their credit, they were nothing but kind.
I've never seen them be anything else. My host mother made me a sandwich (pj and j -- rhubard, I think, which is surprisingly good) which was absolutely not her job and my host father carried my bright pink, heavy suitcase, up the stairs, where it proceeded to scrape every one of the white walls, making my host mother make sad noises.
I have to laugh as I write this, a certain thing, a way of looking back, that my wonderful teacher calls "misadventures". It is so surreal that all that happened, but it's true.
I was absolutely in a terrible mental health space when I arrived (being inside, trapped in snow without power for 10 days will do that too you. Plus stress) and it showed. I could not hide it, and for a week, my mental health played the whack-a-mole game. It's still playing the whack-a-mole game but it's less, as I've had a deep sip of gratitude, and a realization that I've been entirely too wrapped up in my own problems, to the point of completely being grating and overwhelming to everyone around me. Though of course, they would never say as much.
I've had this moment of realizing: I'm nearly 30, I have to solve my problems myself. I can't wait around for the rest of the world to accommodate me.
This may seem like a strange topic for a travel blog, but it's not. That's what travel is all about, at it's end, It's about freedom, sure, but it's also about making your own choices and getting out of your comfort zone. And boy am I out of my comfort zone!
Last time a theme I encountered in my life, was gaspillage, or waste. I encountered ideas of self care, appearance, and warmth. I felt very much cared for and free, and as such, embraced my youth in ways I never had.
This time, there is a different theme. ECOUTER, et FAIRE ATTENTION.
The only other time I've been told to pay attention, and to listen was a job that wound up being toxic. I wrote off the lesson when I quit the job.
But this time, I cannot ignore the lesson. It's too important.
This time, it has been ground into me to ne panique pas, MAIS faire attention -- to everything, to the volume and speed of my voice, to the noise I make in the evenings, to the time I take my shower, to how much I talk. And all this has made me realize, I have no concept of space, or myself in the space, and in an attempt to ignore the things I don't want to think about -- I have drowned them out. By my voice, by my music, and most of all by my texting and my time on social media. I have never taken the time to stand on my own feet or to listen to what is really going on in my life.
So this time, I have decided to be entirely present. I have stopped my social media, my texts, and just listened to what I am thinking. And the results have surprised me. Surprised me greatly.
When I arrived, I realized, after several conversations with my therapist, that I wanted to be rescued. I wanted some one to sweep in, Queer Eye Style, and fix everything for me. And that WAS what happened last time. And I loved it.
But this time? It's different.
I'm the oldest, by far, my French is the most advanced, and I've been here before. I am also the most familiar with with French culture. To expect the same things, or to expect the trip to be the same as last time, is completely foolish. But it gets to be something else, and as I am able to adapt, I am realizing how cool that gets to be too.
And I get to give myself the attention I want.
Onto the cool stuff.
My classes are amazing. My teacher is superb, she is an incredibly talented instructor, puts her heart into her work, and is EASILY one of the best teachers I've ever had. She is kind and sweet. The classes are harder too. I was placed into B2 (dream come true! Woo!) and now everyone speaks French. Even on the pauses. It's amazing, and my fellow students are incredibly motivated, smart, and interesting. I feel an instant connection with them.
The city is still amazing too. Tours is absolutely superb and I feel instantly at home here. There's the AMAZING garden not 3 minutes walk from my host family's home, there's these huge beautiful streets with these amazing shops of all kinds, there's a library, there's SO many bookstores, there's the LOIRE, which I ate lunch at the other day, there's an art store. There's a flower shop, where I bought the most beautiful flowers for my teacher the other day (orange Tulips which were just GORGEOUS) and so much more. It's amazing how much there is to explore. I haven't even touched the beginning of it. And spring is beginning to SPRING. There are ducks in the pond in the garden, and I absolutely love them. There are buds on the trees, and new flowers that have been planted in the ground. There are fountains, the children are laughing (sometimes screaming) and everything just feels alive. And of course, the bakeries are as good as ever.
On Wednesday I went to the conversation group. And the librarian, bless her, remembered me. We talked about games and politics in the group for two hours.
I got a library card at the public library for free and checked out Lucy Knisley in French -- her fiction one. I bought a sketchbook, and a graphic novel (BD, en Francais) by an author I like -- Guy Delisle -- who I'd forgotten originally writes in French. And it's one I haven't already read. So that's cool.
Thursday was long. I don't remember most of it. It was all classes and I was exhausted. Same thing for Tuesday, plus some jet lag. I had jet lag Friday though Tuesday, though due to not taking a nap (well, I fell asleep Monday and Tuesday which prolonged things I think) I adjusted to the time change WAY better than I did on the way back. Monday -- I almost ran to the Institute, and when I arrived, I was out of breath, sweating, and a hot mess. I regret nothing. If Covid wasn't a thing, I would have given my teacher the world's biggest hug. (I would have hugged my host parents, but my host dad seemed uncomfortable last time, I was an anxious sleepless mess, and he offered a fist bump, so fist bump it was. My host mother just waved at me, when I came in, which considering how out of it I was, was probably a good idea).
The other students here, in the host, are nice. They're all about 20, (19, 20, and 20, I THINK). I'd already met one, and we get on well enough. Of the other two, one is a girl, who is very sweet, but whom I've probably freaked out with my intensity and fast talking. But I've enjoyed the conversations we've had, and her French is quite good. She's studying through her school's abroad program, which sounds a lot like the program I did in Paris with Hollins. All her classes are in French, and they're things like European Union, Politics, and cooking, which are all very French. The boy who I don't know, I don't know much about him. I'm sure he's nice.
It's easy to feel like a part of a matched set like that, and groups are overwhelming for me, but in the end, I think it's good. It's good for me to be out of my comfort zone and to be around others.
I have been crocheting a lot though. It helps with the nerves. As does drawing.
That's typically what I do in my spare time -- draw. I'm getting a lot better and I've especially been into portraits. I just finished two. One last night and one thing morning, of my teacher, and my therapist, respectively. I really like how they turned out.
I have also been watching shows in French today (yesterday, after school, I was just a vegetable). There's one called the Secret of Elise which is incredibly dark and I'm totally here for. It's in French, takes place in France, and I am proud to say I had it on at full speech, in French, without subtitles. AND I could follow the plot (which, secret of language learning, is the only thing that matters). I watched some of Brave (Rebelle) in French as well, and enjoyed that. As well as bits and pieces of other shows. It gives me great pleasure to be able to do this.
My host mom's food is good as always, and she and my host dad are still so kind.
And I joke that both of them see and hear everything.
Just yesterday, the other student and I were figuring out the laundry basket situation and some French grammar, and my host mother, from down stairs and somewhere in the middle of the kitchen, yelled out her comments. It's a very cliche, mother with eyes in the back of her head, but it works for me. I find it funny as hell.
I could add more notes about my host family, because I adore them, but one reason I could never be a journalist, is I'm only interested in writing about people, and yet, I find it a certain sense of betrayal to talk about someone without their knowledge too much.
Well, that's been my week in a nutshell (flashback to me trying to explain this phrase to my host mom in 2021 . . . NOTE TO PAST SELF: The word you're looking for is in BREF)
It's sort of blended together into their weird mix of good and bad, and I definitely needed to remember where I was, what I was doing, and not let my emotions completely get the better of me, but I am optimist for the time ahead and I love being here.
I still have no idea what I'll be doing in the future, but as my therapist is constantly telling me, BE PRESENT.
A bientot!
~ Emery
