So Saturday I set off for my adventure. When I arrived in Paris from Villedieu, I had to take the Metro to get to the Gare de Lyon for my next train. No problem. The metro doesn't scare me. So I bought my ticket and made my way to the entrance. If you've ever taken the Paris Metro you may recall that you stick your little ticket in and then quickly shuffle through the open doors before they slam shut again. Well, unfortunately, although I made it through the door in time, my little rolly suitcase did not. It was stuck, and those doors shut hard. I grabbed the handle and pulled with all my might. Unfortunately that only managed to pull my handle of my bag but the rest of my suitcase was still stuck in the door-monster. Lovely. Now people are getting antsy wondering why this stupid American girl got her bag stuck. So I took one hand and pushed the door to the side with literally all my might (which isn't much, mind you) and with the other hand I grabbed the side handle and pulled. I flew back with suitcase in hand and the monster-grip doors slammed shut behind me. Goodbye to you too doors. Grrr. So yeah, the Metro ate my suitcase. It was wonderful.
Train station observation: there are funny looking soldiers everywhere. They walk around in camouflage fatigues (yeah, you'll really blend in the gare de Lyon forest...wait....), and they wear silly berets on their bald heads. While they really should look intimidating, with their big guns and all, the effect is rather lost on me. I laugh when I see them. Don't get me wrong, I realize they must serve some very important purpose, and I shouldn't take them lightly blah blah blah. But, come on. I really wanted a picture of some, but I thought that would be going too far...
Enough nonsense, back to the trip. When I arrived I saw Elodie on the platform waiting and it made me soooo happy. I haven't seen her since I left Montpellier two springs ago. She hasn't changed a bit! She's just as peppy and smiley as before, and we had a wonderful weekend. On Saturday I stayed with her family and got to meet her mom and 11 year old sister Margot. Justin, her younger brother, and Lola, the dog, I remembered from last time. Her mom made us this wonderful white-cheese cake with a hint of lemon in it. It was so good. I need to ask for the recipe (not that I could cook it if I tried...). Her brother came with us to the movies, and we watched one of the only French movies playing (though her brother went to see Resident Evil III). The movie we saw was Les Coeurs des Hommes 2 (the hearts of men). Um, it was okay, but all they talked about was sex and their various affairs and the whole bit. I understood the plot, and some of the jokes, but for the most part I was lost. They used a lot of colloquial expressions and innuendos, which they didn't teach us in French class. So there were many moments when the whole theatre was laughing and I was like...oh... that was funny, right, what did they say? Afterwards Elodie was a little mortified that the movie she picked for me to see as a the token "french" film turned out like that. She assured me that French people aren't really like the people in that movie. Sure, Elodie. Whatever you say... haha.
On Sunday I had the good fortune of going with Elodie and Jean (her currant fiance, who you may remember me telling you from last time, she started dating when I met her, and he was the subject of many of our secret notes during our history lectures) to his grandparents house for Sunday lunch. Let me start by saying that Jean is an amazing guy. He's been so great to Elodie, and I'm super happy she found a guy like him (because I have doubts about the French male population in general). He's had a rough life though, and it always seems to correspond with when I'm here. Last time, when I was first getting to know Elodie and she had just started dating him, we found out that his brother committed suicide. Jean took hard, because they were really close. It came out of the blue too because he had never outwardly struggled with depression. And now, just two weeks ago, his father passed away. His father had always been sort of sick since his brother died, and he never really got over it. But a few weeks ago he got a really bad cough and the doctors couldn't figure out what it was. Then they found out it was some sort of tumor, and it killed him before they could do anything for it. So yeah, his family has been through a lot. And yet, when I meet them all, I couldn't imagine them struggling with all that inside because they were so warm and friendly. I can't even imagine. Anyway, they were the nicest people ever, and lunch was wonderful. I had my first asparagus (they thought maybe we don't have it over here. No, we do, I've just never tried it) and cabbage. Both were surprisingly good. So all those people who think I don't eat veggies, it's not true. If someone else cooks them properly, I'll eat them. If you give them to me and say, here, do something with it, well then all bets are off. Of course when I was eating the asperagus I couldn't help hearing Junior Asparagus' voice in my head. Veggietales has made me a strict carnivore, I think. I can't bear to eat Junior, so bring me a hamburger or something :) . Oh and Elodie made me a chocolate cake for my bday. It was a great afternoon.
Sidenote: when chatting with the grandparents I learned that they lived in that very house during WWII. The grandad told me about how he and his father used to press olives to make oil in the horse trough in the middle of the night. They had to be sneaky because all vital supplies had to go to the Nazis. They also told me how grateful they were to the Americans (and they added, the British) for coming to the rescue. They were really heartfelt about it, and they said it to me like I was the representative of all the Americans who came over. I knew that I, of course, had done nothing. But it felt good to know that they were grateful. It made me wonder about what I would have thought if I'd had been around during that time. I wonder if I would have even supported us getting involved. Everyone now thinks that they would have, but it's much easier to say after the fact. I wonder.
On Monday we traveled to Montpellier (because before we were actually closer to Nimes). The sun was shining as I ventured back to my study abroad city. I really do miss it. Well, I mainly miss it for the people. Something about being in France makes me think that I should be seeing Elodie and Bhavana and Christina all the time. France isn't the same this time around. It's not bad, just different, and I miss them all. Oh and I miss the sun, which apparently only shines in the South of France.
In the afternoon I had the good fortune of meeting up with Sophie (one of my friends in Madison last semester who actually goes to the Agricultural school in Mtp). Now even though Sophie (and Emilie who unfortunately wasn't in Mtp this weekend) is French, I never spoke French with her in Madison. She was there to practice English, and we always hung out with people who didn't speak French. So even though she and Emilie were there for a whole semester, I never once spoke French with them. So when I'm with Sophie I feel like I should be speaking English, but Elodie was with us, and with her I know I have to speak French. It was weird, because I kept forgetting what language I should be using. But it worked out fine, and Sophie and Elodie chatted it up effortlessly (I swear, their French is impeccable). In the picture Elodie is to the left and Sophie is on the right. For lunch we went to Aux 2 Fondues, which is that lovely fondue place where you drink out of baby bottles. Neither of them had ever gone, and I thought they should go at least once since they live there and all. It was fabulous, though I think they were quite surprised by the bottles (not typically French). I hope they become friends; I think they'd all really get along well. Oh and later that night I introduced Elodie to facebook. She doesn't get it at all, so it's up to Sophie to explain it to her in a way that a frenchie would understand. But hey, now I can write on her wall.Montpellier was hard to leave. Elodie and I had some amazing conversations about the past year, and our plans for the future. All of our talks were affected by a touch of sadness because we knew that after this year it would get harder and harder to see each other. That's the problem with my travels. By traveling I make friends all over the place and then, well, I have to leave. It kinda sucks. But I'm glad I know her, and we'll stay friends even if I can't come visit that much. Maybe I'll end up fabulously rich and I can go see her all the time...doubtful... but maybe.
And now I'm back in Avranches. Paris was canceled because Irene ran out of money, but it was better not to go before I got paid (which I finally was today, sweetness). I don't know if I'll travel much more this break, even though I have a week left. I kind of want some time to myself, and this is the first day that I have some. Since I got here I haven't had much alone time, so I'm going to take advantage of it now. It's funny because normally I hate being alone; I have to have someone around. But now, I just want some time to think and read and be by myself. Strange. If I get some good alone time in, then it'll make me that much happy when my roomie returns and I start classes again. So yeah, it's me and Avranches this week. Maybe I'll get around to all those books I meant to read.
No comments:
Post a Comment