Well, now that I'm home, I find myself wondering what to do with this blog. My first thought is that I won't have all of the captivating, entertaining, amusing stories to share anymore since I'm in Arkansas, not France. But my second thought is, why can't life be captivating and entertaining and amusing right here, where I live? It's not like I don't notice the little things that make life, well, life -- I just don't write about them as much as I ought to.
Speaking of observations, someone asked me last Sunday how I felt when I first saw the American flag hanging in Customs after landing in the States again, and I realized that I honestly couldn't remember seeing it. It's not that I'm not patriotic. I was very happy to be back on American soil. But the first thing I remember noticing in the Dallas airport wasn't the flag; it was being surrounded by that thick southern accent again. (The second thing? Spray tans and tacky attempts at being fashionable. Americans have a long way to go.) What made me feel even more at home was overhearing a couple of strangers deep in a conversation about South Arkansas farming and chicken breeds while waiting to board the plane to Little Rock. Sure, the topic seemed pretty natural. But two total strangers striking up a conversation? Hadn't seen that in months!
Another thing I hadn't seen in months? Wal-mart. I must say, when I ventured out into American society (i.e. Wal-mart) on my second day home, even the rednecks amused me more than usual (and usually they do a pretty good job). I never thought I'd miss those impromptu family reunions that always appear somewhere near the checkout lines, either, but it was strangely comforting to see people talking and hugging and laughing together again, talking about who's cooking what for the 4th of July and who's going to so and so's birthday party next week, like warm-blooded Southern people do. French grocery stores never seemed to have that same down-home, familial neighborhood feeling that our Wal-Marts and Knight's and Krogers have so much of.
Even our summer recreational habits have their own special Southern charm. For example, when I think of the lake, I think of ham sandwich and potato chip picnics and stuffy, dirty state park bathrooms. I also see the beer cans and cigarette butts lying half-buried in the sand next to wrinkled grandmas half-hanging out of their bikinis, and I remember how I always end up learning the full name of every kid within a 100 foot radius - complete with all of their colorful prefixes and suffixes. My trips to the lake have definitely provided me with a handy collection of truly Southern snapshot memories, but that's not all. They've also helped shape my standards when it comes to family relationships. The way I see it, as long as my grandmother isn't the half-clad 80 year old on the beach with a cigarette hanging out of her mouth, swearing and yelling at her grandkids to get their a**es out of the water, I figure I'm doing pretty good. All in all, I may leave the lake having seen more than I wanted to see and having heard more than I wanted to hear, but at least I have stories to tell.
So, yes, I knew I'd missed Southern culture, but I guess I just didn't realize how much. Now that I'm thinking about it, though, I do remember talking a lot about it when I was in France. Whenever I made generalizations about American culture or my personal background, I would always have to clarify that I was talking mostly about the South. I remember thinking that it felt strange. I hadn't expected to talk about America that way because I had only thought of myself as an American at first, not so much an Arkansan or a Southerner. I realized for the first time that you still can't describe American culture to a foreigner without making the North/South distinction (even more so than East/West). And I also realized that I'm really and truly not ashamed of being from the South and calling myself an Arkansan.
Sure, we've got our issues, but doesn't everybody? It's the last thing on my mind when I'm sittin' on the porch swing drinkin' sweet tea listenin' to the cicadas sing. Call us uncultured if you want, but you don't know what you're missin'. I sure didn't.
Friday, July 23, 2010
Thursday, July 8, 2010
Home
Haha, I didn't realize that my last post was about Normandy. It's pretty ridiculous to have a month-long gap in posts! I still haven't regained my sense of time since I returned home, though. If you had asked me the date on any day since the 17th, I wouldn't have been able to tell you 9 times out of 10. The jet lag hit me pretty hard, harder than I expected, so for about a week after the flight home, I was non-functional by dinner time every day.
But...anyway, the last week or two in Angers were pretty tough, what with the goodbyes and the subconscious stress about the impending change. They were also pretty special, because we were able to spend time with Clemence and her family before leaving, and my landlady had a sudden change of heart and became a totally different woman. Evidently, she quit work for a while and her stress disappeared, which translated into a farewell dinner Sunday night, crepes Monday night, breakfast Tuesday morning, and then a surprise lunch that nearly made us late for the train that afternoon. I was really shocked when she dropped a gift in my lap Sunday night: a lovely rose-embroidered tea towel and rose perfume from Doué-de-la-Fontaine (a town famous for its rose-centered culture). I had crocheted a scarf for her in her favorite muted blues and grays because I wanted her to know I cared about her, but I really wasn't expecting anything from her. She just seemed too overwhelmed and depressed most of the time. I realized that I had been too, though, especially towards the end, so I wrote a letter thanking her for taking care of me and apologized for being so distant sometimes. I know that didn't exactly help our relationship to grow. We exchanged our thoughts the morning of my departure, so even though I'm very glad that we ended up apologizing, hugging, and spending some really pleasant time together -- I can't help but wish it hadn't have taken so long in coming. I suppose that's just how life goes.
She wasn't done surprising me though. Not only did she give me a gift, but she loaded me down with gifts and notes for my entire family! For my dad, she found a special bottle of wine that she thought he might like; for my mom, it was a another rose-themed gift. And for my brother and sister, she bought two different kinds of chocolate (the really good stuff, too). Then she wrote a sweet note to both of them, and one to the whole family. Looking back on the stories from this semester in her house, I'm sure you're just as surprised was I was by this sudden outpouring of affection.
Unfortunately, obsessive habits die hard. She still spent 15 minutes digging through the bags of trash I brought down after emptying my room, just to make sure I wasn't throwing out anything that was recyclable. I told her that the contents were mostly old supermarket sacks and such, which was the truth. But, I kid you not, she went through every inch of that trash, admonishing me with every discovery of recyclable paper or cardboard that I'd missed, "Now THIS, this is not a sack, ma biche!" ("Biche" is a pet name that translates literally to "doe" - I promise) She even pulled out sack of months-old potatoes I'd thrown away because she "just couldn't bear to throw away good food" -- it was just too ingrained in her by her upbringing on the farm. I was just pacing the floor, praying that God would help her speed up the process, because lunch was getting cold on the table, Kendra and I had a train to catch in a little over an hour, and the suitcases weren't even loaded in the car yet. I sighed a sigh of relief when she finished rifling through the trash, only to stifle a cry of exasperation when she announced that she needed to go buy bread because we didn't have enough for lunch. When all was said and done, Kendra and I made it to the platform JUST as the train pulled in, and three minutes later (after almost *throwing* our suitcases onto it and exchanging hurried hugs goodbye from the edge of the train as the attendants started securing the doors) we were speeding away toward Nantes.
I'll always cherish my memories from the last couple of days we spent with Clémence at her house and in Paris. Crazy card games, old family photos, laughing at the high-class "bourgeoisie" sitting across from us on the train to Paris...and then lugging ALL of our bags through the Paris Metro to Clém's sister's tiny apartment...good times. Just picture three girls loaded down with three huge backpacks and an extra handbag dragging, kicking, hoisting, and all but throwing four solidly-packed suitcases down stairs, up stairs, down escalators, up escalators, onto and off of crowded Metro trains, through countless turnstiles, down the street, into a tiny 3 person max. elevator, and finally into two room flat. It took at least four trips in the elevator to get everything up to the 7th floor, and we had to suck in our breath on the last trip to get the doors open far enough for Clém to fall out. (The doors opened inward.) And then imagine doing most of that all over again the next morning to make it to the airport on time! I wish I had video documentation of this adventure because it would definitely win some kind of award, if not for bravery, strength, and sheer determination, at least for hilarity. :P
After one last coffee with Clém, Kendra and I did our time in the security line. The passport check felt like the Inquisition, but I survived.
What have you been doing in France?
Studying.
What?
French...and international studies.
*hmmm*
Are you travelling with anyone?
My friend, Kendra, over there.
How long have you known her?
A couple of years.
Where did you meet her?
At university.
What does she do?
Studies.....
Where did you pack your suitcases?
In my room.
Were you alone?
No, she was with me.
Did she help you?
No, I did it all myself.
Where else have your suitcases been?
We came with another friend to Paris, to an apartment.
How long have you known this friend?
5 months.
Where did you meet her?
University.
What does she do?
Studies...........
Did you repack your suitcase in Paris?
Yes, a little.
Did anyone help you?
Nope, it was just me.
Did you receive any gifts or letters in France?
Yes, but I opened all the letters. (Ok, I admit, I didn't open my mom's gift, but seriously...how many bombs are flat and smell like roses?)
What technology are you carrying with you?
Camera, laptop, phone, iPod...
What's the newest one you've acquired?
(my gosh) uh, the camera - it's my dad's, I started using it 5 months ago
*long, wary look* Ok.
And then I got a little sticker on my passport. I don't think I've ever worked so hard for a sticker. :P I mean, I understand why they would want to know if you've let some strange man who looks like Bin Laden help you pack your suitcase...some people just don't think about these things. "Oh sure, sir, you don't have room for your suspiciously bomb-shaped brown paper package in your luggage from ...Pakistan? I have room in mine, so of course I can give it to your aunt in Georgia!" Sounds totally legit. :P
Anyway, security checks went smoothly, and we made all connecting flights with no problems. That was a huge blessing. Our flight home was a little late, but that's ok -- it just meant that everyone had had time to build up some extra anticipation. ;) Audrey made the dash for the first hug, and I couldn't believe how much she'd grown, or my brother either, for that matter! Everyone laughed when I looked up and couldn't find his face where I'd expected it to be. It was so wonderful to see all of my family's and friends' faces again, and be able to actually touch them. It was a fantastic "welcome home."
The past couple of weeks are still kind of blur for me. Like I said, jet lag really hit me hard, but that hasn't been the only thing. Mentally and emotionally, the adjusting has been difficult. Drama between people that had been developing for weeks and weeks finally exploded, and finding my new place in relationships and
life is taking a toll on me. I knew that things would change while I was gone, but I thought that I would still be working on the same life "puzzle," so to speak, just with some new pieces. Now it feels like I'm staring at a totally different puzzle which happens to have some of the same pieces. I don't know what to do with it all right now, how to process it, how to fit in -- but I'm trying. Please be patient with me!
Anyway, I should probably go now and find out if my brother has started any fires so I can put them out before Mom gets home from VBS. ;) Maybe I'll have more time later to write out some thoughts about home and culture shock. (It goes both ways!)
Enjoy the rest of your week!
But...anyway, the last week or two in Angers were pretty tough, what with the goodbyes and the subconscious stress about the impending change. They were also pretty special, because we were able to spend time with Clemence and her family before leaving, and my landlady had a sudden change of heart and became a totally different woman. Evidently, she quit work for a while and her stress disappeared, which translated into a farewell dinner Sunday night, crepes Monday night, breakfast Tuesday morning, and then a surprise lunch that nearly made us late for the train that afternoon. I was really shocked when she dropped a gift in my lap Sunday night: a lovely rose-embroidered tea towel and rose perfume from Doué-de-la-Fontaine (a town famous for its rose-centered culture). I had crocheted a scarf for her in her favorite muted blues and grays because I wanted her to know I cared about her, but I really wasn't expecting anything from her. She just seemed too overwhelmed and depressed most of the time. I realized that I had been too, though, especially towards the end, so I wrote a letter thanking her for taking care of me and apologized for being so distant sometimes. I know that didn't exactly help our relationship to grow. We exchanged our thoughts the morning of my departure, so even though I'm very glad that we ended up apologizing, hugging, and spending some really pleasant time together -- I can't help but wish it hadn't have taken so long in coming. I suppose that's just how life goes.
She wasn't done surprising me though. Not only did she give me a gift, but she loaded me down with gifts and notes for my entire family! For my dad, she found a special bottle of wine that she thought he might like; for my mom, it was a another rose-themed gift. And for my brother and sister, she bought two different kinds of chocolate (the really good stuff, too). Then she wrote a sweet note to both of them, and one to the whole family. Looking back on the stories from this semester in her house, I'm sure you're just as surprised was I was by this sudden outpouring of affection.
Unfortunately, obsessive habits die hard. She still spent 15 minutes digging through the bags of trash I brought down after emptying my room, just to make sure I wasn't throwing out anything that was recyclable. I told her that the contents were mostly old supermarket sacks and such, which was the truth. But, I kid you not, she went through every inch of that trash, admonishing me with every discovery of recyclable paper or cardboard that I'd missed, "Now THIS, this is not a sack, ma biche!" ("Biche" is a pet name that translates literally to "doe" - I promise) She even pulled out sack of months-old potatoes I'd thrown away because she "just couldn't bear to throw away good food" -- it was just too ingrained in her by her upbringing on the farm. I was just pacing the floor, praying that God would help her speed up the process, because lunch was getting cold on the table, Kendra and I had a train to catch in a little over an hour, and the suitcases weren't even loaded in the car yet. I sighed a sigh of relief when she finished rifling through the trash, only to stifle a cry of exasperation when she announced that she needed to go buy bread because we didn't have enough for lunch. When all was said and done, Kendra and I made it to the platform JUST as the train pulled in, and three minutes later (after almost *throwing* our suitcases onto it and exchanging hurried hugs goodbye from the edge of the train as the attendants started securing the doors) we were speeding away toward Nantes.
I'll always cherish my memories from the last couple of days we spent with Clémence at her house and in Paris. Crazy card games, old family photos, laughing at the high-class "bourgeoisie" sitting across from us on the train to Paris...and then lugging ALL of our bags through the Paris Metro to Clém's sister's tiny apartment...good times. Just picture three girls loaded down with three huge backpacks and an extra handbag dragging, kicking, hoisting, and all but throwing four solidly-packed suitcases down stairs, up stairs, down escalators, up escalators, onto and off of crowded Metro trains, through countless turnstiles, down the street, into a tiny 3 person max. elevator, and finally into two room flat. It took at least four trips in the elevator to get everything up to the 7th floor, and we had to suck in our breath on the last trip to get the doors open far enough for Clém to fall out. (The doors opened inward.) And then imagine doing most of that all over again the next morning to make it to the airport on time! I wish I had video documentation of this adventure because it would definitely win some kind of award, if not for bravery, strength, and sheer determination, at least for hilarity. :P
After one last coffee with Clém, Kendra and I did our time in the security line. The passport check felt like the Inquisition, but I survived.
What have you been doing in France?
Studying.
What?
French...and international studies.
*hmmm*
Are you travelling with anyone?
My friend, Kendra, over there.
How long have you known her?
A couple of years.
Where did you meet her?
At university.
What does she do?
Studies.....
Where did you pack your suitcases?
In my room.
Were you alone?
No, she was with me.
Did she help you?
No, I did it all myself.
Where else have your suitcases been?
We came with another friend to Paris, to an apartment.
How long have you known this friend?
5 months.
Where did you meet her?
University.
What does she do?
Studies...........
Did you repack your suitcase in Paris?
Yes, a little.
Did anyone help you?
Nope, it was just me.
Did you receive any gifts or letters in France?
Yes, but I opened all the letters. (Ok, I admit, I didn't open my mom's gift, but seriously...how many bombs are flat and smell like roses?)
What technology are you carrying with you?
Camera, laptop, phone, iPod...
What's the newest one you've acquired?
(my gosh) uh, the camera - it's my dad's, I started using it 5 months ago
*long, wary look* Ok.
And then I got a little sticker on my passport. I don't think I've ever worked so hard for a sticker. :P I mean, I understand why they would want to know if you've let some strange man who looks like Bin Laden help you pack your suitcase...some people just don't think about these things. "Oh sure, sir, you don't have room for your suspiciously bomb-shaped brown paper package in your luggage from ...Pakistan? I have room in mine, so of course I can give it to your aunt in Georgia!" Sounds totally legit. :P
Anyway, security checks went smoothly, and we made all connecting flights with no problems. That was a huge blessing. Our flight home was a little late, but that's ok -- it just meant that everyone had had time to build up some extra anticipation. ;) Audrey made the dash for the first hug, and I couldn't believe how much she'd grown, or my brother either, for that matter! Everyone laughed when I looked up and couldn't find his face where I'd expected it to be. It was so wonderful to see all of my family's and friends' faces again, and be able to actually touch them. It was a fantastic "welcome home."
The past couple of weeks are still kind of blur for me. Like I said, jet lag really hit me hard, but that hasn't been the only thing. Mentally and emotionally, the adjusting has been difficult. Drama between people that had been developing for weeks and weeks finally exploded, and finding my new place in relationships and
life is taking a toll on me. I knew that things would change while I was gone, but I thought that I would still be working on the same life "puzzle," so to speak, just with some new pieces. Now it feels like I'm staring at a totally different puzzle which happens to have some of the same pieces. I don't know what to do with it all right now, how to process it, how to fit in -- but I'm trying. Please be patient with me!
Anyway, I should probably go now and find out if my brother has started any fires so I can put them out before Mom gets home from VBS. ;) Maybe I'll have more time later to write out some thoughts about home and culture shock. (It goes both ways!)
Enjoy the rest of your week!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)