On Parting + Some Entertaining Anecdotes

I don't tend to get particularly emotional at endings. I cry in movies and at pain, and sometimes I cry for no apparent reason in the middle of the woods, but I crying at endings has never really made sense to me. I don't think this makes me insensitive, but it does seem rather off-putting to a number of my friends.

Programs like the one we are in are unnatural in much the same way that Freshman dorms are. Whoever went, "Hey! Let's throw a bunch of people together for a fixed period of time so that they can get to know each other really well because they have a lot in common but then they have to leave to all corners of the earth," probably should've thought things through a bit first.

To all of you who seem concerned that I'm not emotional right now: Call me in three weeks, two months, or a year (or anytime; I like you guys a lot, and I'd love to chat!)

It still hasn't really set in that I've just forged very strong bonds with very cool people over a very short period of time. What has set in less than that is that almost immediately, we will split, travel to our respective corners, and suffer limited contact as a result of distance. It's hard to comprehend, but it's true. However, I trust that we will be in regular contact due to this really cool thing called "facebook," so I'm not too terribly afraid of "never seeing each other again," as a specific male roommate keeps threatening.

I leave to go home Monday at a ridiculously early hour of the morning (the bus leaves at 4:40 a.m.), so tomorrow is my last day in Provence. I hope to make the most of it, although I suspect I'll spend the majority trying to fit all of my things into my suitcase(s). We'll see how that goes.

____

I promised some anecdotes:

This will teach you to tempt fate. Last night, a group of us were having a glass of wine and taking some pictures (despite the abysmal weather) at Liz's house before going out to the Comté d'Aix for dinner (it's my favorite local restaurant). So, lately, Chris has been joking about ways to make Michelle (who is moving to Laos on Wednesday) and me stay in Aix. He slipped, "Maybe I could just break my leg or something and then you'd have to stay and nurse me." into our conversation while we were at Liz's. As we were walking down the stairs to go to the restaurant, something happened and he lost his footing, turned his ankle, and was rendered unable to do more than hobble down the street.

Eventually, Florence and I rushed to the pharmacy and bought a tube of "Biofreeze" cream to keep the swelling down, he and Michelle got a cab to the restaurant, and by the time we had finished dinner, the advil that Liz had given him immediately after the fall had kicked in enough for him to hobble home.

Liz, Florence, and I continued on to the restaurant, hoping to get there in time to get enough seats for everyone we thought was coming. About halfway between Liz's house and the Comté d'Aix, there was a "thunk," as Florence's bag dropped to the ground, shoulder strap broken beyond repair. We fairly quickly rigged the bag so that she could continue to carry it, began chatting about how bad things come in threes, and walked the rest of the way downtown.

If bad things come in threes, we may still be waiting for the last one. Or maybe something happened that can count. I'll keep my fingers crossed for the latter.



Today, we were sitting in my room as I began the first stages of packing. We were Chris, Liz, Lucy, Michelle and I. Several weeks ago, I bought a squeaky toy elephant for Lila, Meggie's puppy, and because I haven't gotten it together enough to take it to her, it's been sitting on my desk. So, first, Michelle threw the toy at Chris. Chris, after recovering from a poorly aimed throw, decided to hit a fungo with one of his crutches (bequeille, I think is the French word) perfectly arching the tiny elephant out my open window.

This in itself made us double over in laughter, and it took us several minutes of recovery time before I was able to grab my keys, pull out my flip flops, and go downstairs to recover the thing. I was still inside the gate when I saw a little old lady notice the toy, pick it up, give it a good squeak, look around somewhat skeptically, and walk away carrying the little elephant with her.

I shook my head, went back inside and died out laughing. Of all the things that could've happened, an old lady ended up with my elephant. I hope a puppy somewhere is happy.

Emails from Grandma

Every other day or so, I get an email in my inbox from my grandmother. I enjoy and cherish these emails, and I regularly share them with my friends. The thing about Grandma's emails that is entertaining is the way that, in a lot of ways, they seem as though they had a character or word limit put on them. Regularly, I will get emails that say:

Dear Lauren,

I look forward to seeing you when you get home.

Love,

Grandma

I don't respond to these emails as often as I should, but I wanted to share how much I enjoy them. 

I am looking forward to seeing everyone in a week and two days. I'll be home before we know it.

Dear Grandma,

Thanks for all of your emails.

Lots of love,

Lauren

Time of Your Life

Today marked the first of what I am certain will be numerous official and non-official "lasts". My Monday class at Collège Campra will be in London (or Brighton) next week, so I won't have them again. I foresee some of these lasts being welcome changes - the last time I have to carry my laundry 100 yards across town to use costly washing machines that may or may not get my clothes sufficiently clean; the last time I have to shower in the three square foot shower with a head that shoots straight across at the wall on the other side, making it difficult to actually wash oneself with two hands; the last time I have to visit friends with a very strong ulterior motive of using their unrestricted internet; the last time I have to worry about an unpredictable but powerful upstairs neighbor threatening to kick me out of my on-campus housing. But, as is often the case, change brings loss, and a lot of these lasts will accompany very strong emotions - the last time my friends can roll their eyes at me for choosing to come home and skype with my boyfriend instead of going out on the town; the last time we get to pack 20 people into a 16m^2 apartment that used to be a restaurant; the last day trip with great friends. The lists could both go on forever.

In the 1990s, Greenday released a song called "Good Riddance (Time of Your Life)." When I think of the phrase "Good Riddance," I tend to associate it with being pleased that someone is gone, but as I was wandering home from my (last Monday) class (ever) this morning, the idea that it might also be able to mean, in a completely non-sarcastic sense, "being pleasantly finished with and or leaving something enjoyable." And if that is a possible meaning, then I definitely think it is appropriate to apply to this experience. Moreso, two sets of song lyrics always pop into my head at apparent endings: "It's something unpredictable, but in the end is right." and "Every new beginning comes from some other beginning's end." The former is strongly apparent in my assistantship, and the latter seems to be emerging as I make plans to return to the States.

I've been having a hard time wrapping my head around the fact that the plans for this jaunt abroad started well over a year ago. It is equally difficult to believe that I've already been here for six whole months and considerably harder to believe that I will leave this place as my "permanent" residence in (now less than) two weeks.

The French say "doux-amer" to mean "bittersweet," and that's a very concise explanation of this leaving. There is sweetness in the idea that I will be close to people I love dearly upon my return; it has been hard staying in touch with friends and family with a 7-hour time zone difference that puts them out of work at midnight. However, as we near the end of our "stage" in Aix, dear friends here begin to scatter across the globe. There will be a day when it will be necessary to visit each one in Egypt, Russia, Italy, Argentina, Canada, England, and many different cities across the US. Or perhaps we could just reconvene on Aix once every few years, buy a house, visit, and enjoy Provence some more.

This past weekend was enjoyable. Katy, an assistant friend from Apt (a good bit north of Aix), came down, and on Saturday she and I went to Arles, the Camargues (a swampy area famous for wild horses [that couldn't drag me away], flamingos, and bullfights. Of these, we saw flamingos), and St. Marie de la Mer (the town in which the three Mary's are believed to have landed after the death of Jesus). Sunday, we had a picnic, saw a carnival (we dress in costume for Halloween and have parades for Mardi Gras; the French dress in costume and have parades for... April 3rd?), made breakfast-for-dinner, and watched The Breakfast Club. It was a good weekend.

My favorite photo from the weekend is this one of Katy on the rocks at the beach at St. Marie.

Well it's about time, Lauren!

I told myself I was going to blog and post pictures when I went to the fair a couple of weeks ago.

That didn't happen.

THEN I said I was going to blog and post pictures when I uploaded my photos from the Circus to my computer. I had stories for pages about the absurd fact that Chris had never been to a circus before to the man brushing a camel to the seemingly unstable supports holding up the net beneath the trapeze artists to the elephant that forgot to use the restroom before coming out for his performance.

That didn't happen either.

So just now as I started clicking around the internet, I decided that it's time for me to post again. But my  post isn't going to be about these isolated, incredibly fun moments that I've had in the past few weeks with some of my recently acquired absolutely lovely friends. In fact, I'm certain that there will be times I will wish that this post had been about them, but it's not (although I might post some of my photos at the bottom, we'll see).

I want to post about fear.

My closest friend here, Michelle, is going through a hard time with friends back home and friends abroad, and I feel for her. And, while you probably don't know her well or at all, keeping her in your thoughts and prayers would be a kind gesture at this particular point in time. In addition to the external stress from friends and family here and abroad, many of us are winding down our time in Aix, in France, in Europe, and working on sorting out our affaires (range-ing them, to be franglais). It's a frightening time full of a sweeping spectrum of emotion that brings to mind what Semisonic wisely sang, "every new beginning comes from some other beginning's end."

I am living a beginning that is about to come to an end, allowing the birth of a new beginning, and this prospect is terrifying. As of this coming Monday, I have four weeks left in beautiful Provence. During this time, I will work, enjoy myself, sleep too much, eat delicious food, play, romp, and bask in the beautiful weather that we are so fortunate to have. After this time, however, I will tumble back down - hopefully with as smooth an atterrissage as possible - to Mississippi, to my wonderful family, to my fabulous friends, and to no plan whatsoever. And this prospect is terrifying.

I look forward greatly to getting to spend time with the people there that I love, but at the same time, I anticipate the schism from the people in Aix that I love with anxiety. The bonds that we have here have been forged quickly and strongly, and as we separate, we will return to all ends of the earth: England, Laos, Russia, Egypt, Chicago, Vancouver, Virginia... the list goes on.

Thomas Friedman wrote about the world being flat. It's easy to bounce from place to place, experience new cultures, meet new people, enjoy the novelty of the world. He didn't write - at least in the bit that I read - about what happens when you have to bounce back home. I suspect very strongly that I will quickly find myself in a routine, but as of this moment I don't know what it will be.

I have applied to work in a handful of school systems in the Jackson-Metro area, but who knows if that's what I'll end up doing permanently? I don't.

I love it here, I love you all there, and I'm spinning my wheels in anxiety thinking about re-entry.

Well, it's about time that I post. It's about time that I come home. It's about time that I leave home. It's about time that I start again. Well, it's about time, Lauren.

[Here are some photos from the fair and the circus]

Yes, I paid 5€ to bungee jump on a trampoline.
I also almost passed out from the effort. I'm not 12 anymore. 

Chris attested that doing flips was harder than he expected.

Michelle's fantastic camera skills captured us both mid-air at once.

Yes, this man is SWEEPING a camel.

PR 5443 - FINISHED!

I don't think I've ever written two 20-page papers in 3 days before.

Check that one off the bucket list.

On to explaining the US Government to French people. I found this infographic on Google that I intend to learn. Any specifics that I should teach would be appreciated; I'm not exactly a government scholar.