I wrote the following entry a couple of weeks ago and have occasionally come back to it for editing and finishing. Ah the life with a busy toddler and a tiny baby! Well, it is true, my screen time has diminished vastly since I used to sit at the computer during naps. Well, now when everyone is napping, I try to as well. Well, at least the pictures are current!
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Leo!
Now that Leo is with us and we are getting to new this new little sprite and new ways of living.
6 weeks old already!
So, at the moment, I am motivated by the variety of (for lack of a better word) projects I am attempting to delve into. Many of them are rediscovering and some of them are new and exciting. And honestly, since it has been so long that I have been using or studying French, I would say that I am REdiscovering something NEW again. I have really lost so much in the way of communication. I have been told it will come back, but still I have taken one step forward and at least 10 steps back in the last few months. I am disappointed in myself - all the hours trudging through cold and rain in Paris to get to classes, hours spent in classes, at home studying with software, reading French books in the car, listening to Coffee Break French on walks - etc etc. The other day, I couldn't even remember how to ask someone what they did yesterday! Pathetic. I have been so focused on birth, babies, driving, toddler stuff (next entry on that!) and so on - that I just completely dropped French. Completely. So, gotta get back on that horse. (Cheval!)
Sabine wearing her baby like Mama.
Beyond French, my other obsession is getting organized, writing schedules, planning toddler activities, creating week-long menus, exercise, and using my time more effectively.
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I am happy to revisit the previous paragraphs (couple of weeks later) with a bit of optimism - as we are finding our rhythm a bit more. I must cut this admittedly weird entry short, but damn it, I wanted to post it so I could cross it off my list! (and quit thinking about it).
As I think things have settled a bit more, I should be able to blog more - something I really love doing. I have much to share, particularly around toddlerdom and new ways of parenting a very expressive (a hem) 2.5 year old. Book reviews coming soon!
Grappling with some of the same old same old: dismal repetitive thoughts that dampen my high spirits and leave me feeling disappointed with my own commitment to help make the world a better place.
What in the hell am I talking about? Many a books, articles and websites are dedicated to helping people adjust to living in a foreign country. I do find they are generally helpful for the basic stuff. But when it gets right down to it, there are just some things that cannot be duplicated.
When it comes to having an active political life in a foreign country, there are some special challenges. Sure, you can obtain a ballot overseas and even vote from afar. Sure, you can sign petitions to "Save the Whale" online. Of course, any organization is happy to get money to use towards a cause you believe in. But in terms of building real activist community, it just isn't as easy when you live abroad. Especially if you are an American and could be perceived of as an imperialist! Furthermore, activism and volunteering are inherently American. Yup, I said it.
Here in France, people seem to march because the union tells them too. They shut down the city and piss off everyone trying to get to work. Unions hold a lot (A LOT) of power. So, to that end, the perceived need for grassroots organizing (people power) is relatively low. Or even, for some causes, non existent. There are though some cool non-profits, especially here in Paris. But they don't seem to utilize volunteers much, at least that is according to a woman who worked for WWF.
French Persecutive on Feminism
I have referred to this before, but when asking a French woman if she is a feminist, she will generally look highly offended and declare, "NO! I love men too much". She also foolishly thinks that the feminist cause isn't needed here in France. Alas, I wish that were true. Check out the New York Times article Where having it all doesn't mean having Equality
I am not going to claim to be an expert on anything French - to be sure. But that is part of the problem of living abroad and being a can't-stop-myself do-gooder. When I watch the news (Especially Aljazeera), visit Mother Jones website, read current event magazines, etc I just want to jump into action. I want to DO SOMETHING! But what? And anyway, I am a foreigner, what right do I have to tell them how to live?
My own daily choices of not eating meat, recycling, use cloth diapers, buying as much fairtrade/local/bio blah blah blah, taking Sabine into nature, taking public transportation (like I can drive in France anyway - ha ha), not buying plastic water and being informed about what the hell is going on around me doesn't really feel good enough. I don't feel good enough.
Furthermore, I feel alone in my desire to participate in making the world a better place here in France. I know logically that simply isn't true and that we are all trying to do the best we can. But the fact is that, all of the wonderful people I know and the friends I have made here are ALL critical of something about this country. The Frenchies themselves are particularly pissed off. Other ex-pats and I agree on a lot of the bullshit bureaucracy that we must deal with in living here that would "never happen" in our efficient and courteous countries. Or on issues of education, environmentalism, human rights, nuclear energy, discrimination etc. What are we DOING to help make change? How are we working to make life better for ourselves and others?
My prefecture. Photo by Jacques Mossot 2009
One little example is the deplorable conditions/treatment of my local prefecture. This is the place where I had to go twice a year, for the last three years, to renew my Carte de Sejour - something like a green card. From the beginning to the end, on every level, it is horrible. They don't take appointments (anymore, cost too much), so you have to wait (sometimes all day). Often there is only one person working (women only of course) who is very stressed out and bitchy (naturally). Instead of a proper waiting room, there is a long hallway lined with chairs on the second floor where it gets unnaturally hot and stinky. Often people come with their babies and toddlers (they start school at age three), so inevitably, there is a lot of crying. AND then, once it is your turn, you must do your business standing up, talking through a little hole in a window with a crowd around you. Oh, did I mention that after your initial visit, you get a piece of paper to tell you to come back and pick up your card. (Oh, but, if you don't get it within a month, come back and tell us they say). AND then when you go back to get your card, you sign in and then everyone huddles around a window as they call your name. It is a third world country set-up. No computers, all is done in paper with tons of copies and copies and forms and copies. Hilariously, we asked the woman how we could obtain the much desired ten-year card. "Oh, you have to say that you want the 10 year card". WHAT. THE. HELL?
If you don't SAY you want the 10 year card, they will assume you want to come back every year for this demoralizing experience.
Now, I am the first to admit, making this experience more tolerable doesn't exactly change the world. But, in some ways it does touch human rights. You see, as you look around at this particular prefecture, you will see that almost everyone is either Arab or African. On the first floor, where you renew your drivers license, there are chairs, natural light, 5 windows open resulting in a short wait time, an electronic number system and much less people - French citizen people. oh, and I guess it is a coincidence that all the tellers on the first floor are men.
Now, imagine you are new to France and going to this shit hole is your introduction to becoming a French citizen. What does it say about your value, if anything? I am not going to detail Hicham's experience with getting his American green card except to say : efficient (as in 20 minutes) and basically pleasant.
BUT then, the issue really is this: HOW does a person change the status quo in a foreign country? Who do you talk to? How do you convince them to care about this? How do you build consensus? How does change happen in other places? Just so many more questions than answers. I guess these are things I need to learn about.
All that said, when I read about American change agents, dynamic and effective activism, creative and energized non-profits challenging the status quo, community gardens in ghettos, people taking the power back, people volunteering, giving back, being invested in their environment, individuals participating in their neighborhoods. In looking back at my experience as a political activist and non-profit work, I ask myself, how can I use my passion and skills here in France? What am I called to do here, beyond raising my cool kid, if anything?
Then I think, that as an American, I have within me the ability to follow the American dream as defined in 1931 by James Truslow Adams: Life should be better and richer and fuller for everyone, with opportunity for each according to abiltiy or achievement regardless of social class or circumstances of birth.
This post has given me a lot to think about. I would love to hear your thoughts, comments, ideas, etc. email or comment please :)
Sooooo, as does happen after putting "it all out there" in the blogasphere, I thought again about what I wrote. I know that there are a great number of blogs who play it safe and don't share any controversial opinions, non-mainstream notions or put anything that they may later recant or addendum. I wish I was like that, but it just ain't my nature so.... an addenduming we go. Or here is a fun analogy: as I get more comfortable in the blogging chariot, I am picking up speed here people ... but then slowing down, going in reverse and driving down the same road but with different non-rose colored shades on (good one, huh? ... er not).
Which brings me to the addendum that I titled this entry about. Sooooo, my entry before last was about TV being for losers ;) and that marinated a bit in my mind as I was doing what? Cleaning ... um, yeah. and I thought that perhaps I didn't give enough credit, or any, credit to some of the TV shows that I have enjoyed and to others that have helped me get through some tough times. This is NOT to say that I am recanting in anyway what I written, because it is my truth. BUT sometimes, a person doesn't feel like being creative or feel like contributing. Yeah, TV IS undoubtedly a time suck - but sometimes that is what we need, at least once in a while (but not as a lifestyle, ew). Sometimes we just need to be entertained. To distract. To make us feel less lonely. To make us laugh. To see people acting silly, serious, or in pain, or in healing, or whatever the hell it is. To get the fuck out of our heads for a minute.
34 hours per week of this? Why?
What I realized was that although my consumption of television is clearly less than the average 34 HOURS A WEEK that my fellow Americans watch according to the New York Times. (Added up, that is more than 9 years of life, scary shit).
I nevertheless failed to mention four shows that became like companions to me over the last three or so years. Yeah, I know, I know, I made it sound like I never, ever watched tv ... and well, I didn't really, but I did watch some TV SHOWS on the internet which is basically the same thing, right? It all started when Hicham left for France and I was weft awone....
What I mean by that is, if you read back on the the early days of this blog, you would see a very distraught woman terribly upset at leaving her home and friends (not job, ha!) and most beautiful state of North Carolina in exchange for Paris, France to be with French hubby who was living in Paris.
There were times when I just couldn't be creative or contribute because I was so fucking depressed. I wasn't the best company either because hanging out with me was full of phrases like" oh, boo hoo, this is the last time I will ever sit in this booth" or "i will never have bubble tea like this again" or "see, how nice that waitress was? they are all mean bitches in france". Of course, all of those statements proved to be mostly accurate (boo hoo).
So, unlike my ceremonious introduction Lost, I am not even sure HOW I watched my first Star Trek Voyager episode on what was at the time called, Stage6.com (now defunct). This amazing website had each and every episode of every season of Voyager. In the last few months of my life in NC between finishing at my jobs, getting rid of hundreds of books, furniture, clothes, etc and spending time grieving with friends - I watched Star Trek voyager nightly and sometimes even with breakfast.
What can I say? I missed Hicham and living in limbo was really hard. I was amazingly depressed and just getting to the finish line of the day my plane (with Olivia in with the cargo) would leave for France was all I could hope for. I even knew at the time, very aware in fact, that I "should" enjoy this time, live in the present, blah blah blah, since it was soon to be over. And yet, limbo is not enjoyable. It just plain isn't.
Captain Janeway
So, I distracted myself with the wonderful crew and Captain Janeway as they, ironically, tried to get home after being flung into the other side of the universe doing a heroic endeavor. Janeway, strong and wise, striving to do the right thing, struggling sometimes, never perfect but doing her best, oh my goodness, just thinking back on her makes me want to watch an episode. The witty doctor, the cynic half human Belanna, the player Tom, the spiritual ChaKotay and all the other characters who made the Voyager a diverse and interesting space ship. You never knew where you were gonna be when you watched Voyager, another planet, on the ship, befriending an alien species, being taken over by one, in the future, in the past .... thanks to the holodeck, there was no limit as to what the plot of each episode would be. But you were almost invariably guaranteed a happy ending. That is what I so desperately needed at that time. A bunch of strife cleared up cleverly with lovable, relatively complex characters and ON TOP of all that ... it was SCIENCE FICTION!
Then, after clearing out of my house I briefly lived with my friend Rachel to help work for the presidential election which happening in November. I flew to Paris on December 1. Anyway, she had a TV AND cable. After our long days, we would sit in her livingroom and watch election coverage, the Daily Show and I would discover all kinds of different shows. I was over 30 years old and had no idea what tv had become during my absence. The Dog Whisperer for example blew my mind! It was brilliant! I also discovered a wonderful show called "Clean House" and HGTV in general. Wow! wow! WOW! Inspiring stuff to be sure. Those shows made me really proud of myself that I had narrowed all my belongings down to 26 (albiet large) boxes, 4 suitcases, one dog kennel and a dog. Helped me to let of that crap ..
Then, my plane took off, I was no longer in country limbo.... BUT I was in home limbo. Will and Grace helped me through that one. I had seen a few episodes along the way somewhere and so I knew the premise. and I knew it was damn funny. This show slid into it's comfy place since my belongings were still on the boat. Hicham was at work. We didn't have a phone line yet. I didn't have any friends yet and it was cold as shit outside. And so, I huddled around my laptop watching episode after episode of hilarity.
Then I discovered ....last year RuPaul's Drag Race. Like America's Next Top Model, but with Drag Queens who had lip-sync for their lives, make costumes of random objects and display real creativity during various challenges. Dragalicious. And of course, RuPaul is my hero/ine. I don't have to explain that one because it is all about Ru. I have all of RuPaul's cds, books and have seen RuPaul perform twice. Love Love Love that Queen of Queens.
So, what do all these shows have in common? Pulling it together, getting where you want to go, living your life on your own terms, being silly and having a good damn time even when faced with obstacles.
So, yeah, I was probably a bit too harsh about TV not having a place in life, because it can be a wonderful tool to be inspired by, to relax with or just to laugh your ass off. Just not everyday (and certainly not for 34 hours a week, wth? I still can't get over that. Imagine, that is the average and so some watch 70 hours of tv a week) and not at the expense of living your own life instead of watching someone else's make believe life.
Having reread this, I will admit though, that TV has been important when I was at my lowest .... or when I am my most tired .... or when I just don't wanna live this life. Soooo, my original theory holds but with some more texture... and way more longwinded than was probably necessary. But guess what? Since I don't have any tv shows to watch, I can type and type and type and type all i want, i want, i want.... ha!
Just a little update ... well, not to say that I haven't actually been blogging. I have. I just haven't felt like sharing outloud. Having the desire to write and the urge to put it out there come from two entirely different places. I guess the superstars of blogging, which I am most obviously not, have the consistent urge to do both.
BUT, I at least did want to POST once more before the month is over to say unequivocally "NO, I have not forgotten or even ignored my blog or you or whatever". I have thought about posting what I consider to be relatively interesting thoughts, experiences and pictures, but was feeling a little reclusive. A touch possessive of my life. Hell ya might even say, snobbish. AND, in truth, the month of July has been a little overwhelming. We had THREE guests here - in a row. Four days, six days and five days.
After the extra toothbrushes left, I sort-of had to recover my space. I have been on a reorganizing and decorating bender. A superior blogger would have captured each room in gorgeous lighting as each space evolved to something suitable for Apartment Therapy. I have a few shots though and so when it is all said and done, I might be able to make some sort of a montage. But I can assure you, this gray weather (city of light MY ASS!) the lighting will be hideous. But here is one before/after of Sabine's room as it is now called. More to come.
So, beyond just wanting to repaint the living room (after more than two years of living with this stark white room), I am blabbing on about it endlessly to Hicham to convince him that this needs to happen and soon. Sometimes, (a hem) I have ideas that come and go, but when I continue to be charged up for a sustainable amount of time, he will get behind it. Thing is, painting is a hassle and painting a rental apartment that has to be repainted again before leaving is a fool's errand. Thing is though, I have always embraced the title of the fool with glee. Hell, I painted the bedroom red and orange, the bathroom vanilla (though unfortunately it is more yellow than creamy white). So what why not go whole hog and just keep going? Sage green? Mauve? Taupe? Oh we shall see.
We are also slowly but surely ridding ourselves of furniture that Hicham's family generously gave us before I got here. So, of course, because it was here and we didn't have any money (renting apartments in France is cost prohibitively high), we just used it. Then became complacent as it worked, even if it was sort-of ugly. This would also be the time to pontificate on how obtaining furniture is (of course) more complicated in France. Note, I didn't say more difficult, I said more complicated. I guess that should be a given since my French abilities make even the most mundane thing often times mind bogglingly complicated. But, I am not going to. I won't also now enumerate on how French standards of time or service or enthusiasm levels often clash with the American in me. I just don't feel like it. (See, I am becoming French).
But I will say, that I have been giving away stuff stuff stuff. Even stuff I like and want to keep, but know that making a less cluttered environment will be good for us all. That philosophy is keeping the momentum going. Two solid oak wooden chairs, free and gone. One solid wood Ryder toddler bike, free and gone. One red, velvet gorgeous red sofa, 100 euros and gone. lamps, clothes, toys, desks, books, linens, gone gone gone. I am not at the minimalist living stage yet, but closer to never asking, "Do you know where my ____is?" ever again.
Finally, I have been nurturing some local friendships. For a while there, after watching cool friends come and go (y'all know who you are), I took a bit of a friendship making hiatus. Recently though, I have been hanging out with other "lifer mamas". These are women who fit a similar profile to me: English speaking ex-pat married to a Frenchie with a toddler. Of course, one is leading the pack by being pregnant with baby number two. And you know what they say about pregnancy: it is an epidemic. That is not to say that a few of my friends have no children or more than two already (y'all know who you are too).
Oh yeah, and speaking of being a mom. Yeah, I fucking love it. Sabine is awesome. More on that next time.
So, I have been thinking about 'starting' a blog for a while now. I had started one THREE years ago. It was to facilitate connection with me and my former life, to share my not very brave new world with friends and family and yes, to join the masses of cool people who blog. I guess after moving from NC to Paris, I was consumed with living in Paris and not really talking about it. Not that there wasn't much to say, and frankly, wish I had - but that is neither here nor there. I got right NOW, so let's go...
I have read many, many blogs - found many times by clicking at the blog suivant, or in english, the next blog button and roaming around on the blogosphere enjoying the many variations of how people express themselves, make their lives appear and share new information. A great many of bloggers have inspired me to think about things in new ways, feel deep jealousy at how beautiful someone can make their home look during the holidays, feel lucky at how good I have it, create new sauces and provide insights into life as an expat in France. I have watched perfect stranger's families grow, change, win some and lose some. These strangers eventually become online friends. Probably will never meet them, but in some ways I keep better track of their lives than my 'real' friends who don't have blogs.
Me, age 15, when I spent half my life
blabbing on the telephone.
It makes me sad sometimes. I recently read an article about telephone conversations and how they are really, really out of style. Had I been blogging when I read it, I would have been able to bookmark the link and share it with you. But anyway, you don't really need a link to believe that long phone calls are just more rare these days. I can remember HOURS spent on the phone, sometimes even falling asleep with the phone hot next to my ear. I know it sounds so bizarre now days, but it is true. I remember watching movies on tv while being on the phone. Interestingly, I still have long conversations with friends I used to have long conversations with (you know who you are)... but people whom I have met in the last 15 years - with a couple of exceptions, it just doesn't happen.
Many of my old friends tell me that they just don't find people like me in their life anymore. (yes, it is not me trying to feed my ego a giant bowl of smooth mint ice cream, it is just true). A few of my new friends have told me how nice it is to finally find someone they can 'be themselves' with and connect with authentically. I doubt very, very much it is because I am super friend of the year, I have had many people tell me straight to my face that they can't fucking stand me and all my drama (bye bitches). In any case, I get the desire to connect - I have it too. That is why I am resuming this blog. I really, really, really deeply, sincerely hope that I will hear back from people sharing with me their thoughts on what I share here. Don't hold back, you know I rarely do (but I have learned that I can when I really have to).
This blog is also to share my experiences with myself, to witness my own life as I articulate and reflect later on something that happened. What I used to recount to good old friends on the phone for hours simply is more difficult because honestly, I think I think slower then I used to. As stuff simmers in my head, authentic notions are developed. I am pretty sure that when I was younger I thought more efficiently, more intense, more vulnerable, more open, more quick to tell you what I thought because so much was so interesting and exciting.
Blazing her own trail, 15 months.
Well, I am getting older, more experienced and frankly, sucks but true, I have seen a lot of what the world has to show. I now get to see my little daughter Sabine as she points with great interest to the little path over there. She is a little explorer and wants to get the hell off the beaten path whenever she possibly can. The good news is, while I am her mother and therefore protector, I am also her companion happy to go where ever she wants to (as long as she will have me).
So, okay, here's to resuming a blog, connecting with words my little bubble to your little bubble - together we can burst into a new scene of ideas, sharing, challenges, growth, inspiration, vulnerability, and tons of pictures of Sabine as she explores her new world in 2011. Please join me (and subscribe it you want to).
Ever the walking cliche' or at least I feel like it, I had my 'awakening' and it was today. I have had brief interruptions of sleep-walking through the day of the blazee, BUT today was a day that all the naysaying negativity about Paris has gone to sleep and I ... I have awoken to the glory of the city of Light.
I had been in my sleepy way of should be practicing French, but watching "Valley Girl" on YouTube is just so much more interesting. Like totally! But I had a grocery list to get and as you may know, the stores in Paris are unbelievably closed on Sunday!
So, I dreaded doing it. I pretty much have only had fun when I am out - but it's the thought of leaving our cozy sanctuary that does not appeal to me. I am not pleased to say it, but living in Durham made me a serious homebody. There were only two places I would rather have been: the forest or the dance floor - and the truth is, they are just extensions of home. ANYWAY!
Got the bags to carry the groceries home. On my list was toilet paper, coffee, bread, soy milk, yogurt, apples, laundry softener (gonna give it a try), rice cakes, cereal and lotion... We will get the veggies tomorrow at the market and I will bring the camera for blog purposes! Which is what I wish I had done today!!!
But of course, what exciting thing could happen between here and 4 blocks to the store? Well, a group of musicians COULD be standing on the corner playing Fwenchie music like the other day... or a new store could have a wine/cheese event... or there could be some particularly beautiful fruit or flowers in one of the numerous street shops worthy of a photo... but today there was a musical extravaganza in the streets!
AND IT WAS MOST LIKELY ONE OF THE COOLEST THINGS I HAVE EVER SEEN. Now, don't get me wrong, I have seen some dynamic drumming in India (imagine hundreds of Indians drumming and walking) and some funkadelicious drumming in Honduras on the islands during some Garafuna holidays and so on... but today, I saw the French version of drumming that would have put Hillside High in Durham to shame (well, not really)... but allow me tell you what was so special about this drumming and dancing down the streets of a small neighborhood in Paris. The drummers were 80% FRENCH WOMEN AND GIRLS and the dancers were all French women. The entire group spanned from 14 years to 50 years old. These lovely women were pounding those HUGE drums and swinging their hips and the dancers were giving the crowd filling up the sidewalks everything they had! I of course, started crying right then and there. Now if you know me, I can cry over a feel-good commercial.
The other interesting thing about it was that for the first half of the parade, the cars drove right along side of the dancing/drumming parade. It was a two way street and they all seemed to take turns going. That is one cool thing I have noticed about the people here - sure, they may not be 'friendly', but nor are they aggressive or possessive. From what I have observed, they genuinely know how to share space. It is kind of unbelievable at times. Even during this dancing in the streets, the flow didn't just STOP because of this, the street became used by both. I, for one (and maybe the only one standing there grinning and crying)thought it was totally amazing. Everyone, people with full shopping bags like me, daddies with strollers, old ladies with canes, young men with motorcycles, fashionista females all just doing their thing.
I stood their bopping, grinning, shining and crying at seeing French women in a new way and in seeing myself living in Paris in a new way too! I now am beginning to understand my relationship to the outside world needs to open up in a new way ... and so I need to change too. So, now it is when I say, see: I am now the cliche and I like it like that.
*Please Note* This is not our apt anymore. It was a summer apt we rented already furnished in the 19th Arrond back in 2008. It worked fine for us for a summer, but when we actually moved to France we found an apt about three times the size and even that can feel small sometimes. And our view is not a building, but the River Seine, lovely indeed.
After literally hours of my life WASTED looking for apartments, Hicham finds 'the one'. No, it wasn't a contest really, but there would be a certain satisfaction gained for the one who actually located 'the' summer apartment. I was close a few times though, tell ya what!
But in the end, it was Hicham who found our summer home. The photos are ones he took at the apartment to convince me that this was the one. To the average observer, it might seem odd that he took photos of the kitchen sink. But in fact, for me, the kitchen sink was a non-negotiable. I would not live in an apartment where the kitchen sink looked like it belonged in a bathroom. Yes, in Paris, it is common to find small bathroom sinks... IN THE KITCHEN!!!!! Certainly not enough room to wash a casserole dish let alone a cookie pan. Those sinks are a joke and a half, clearly designed for people who eat only cheese and bread all day - like the French... oh wait.
He took 40 pictures, many of them highlighting the nearby trees. I am only sharing 3 for your viewing pleasure, because you likely do not care to see the shower head of the apartment (also non-negotiable... must be attached above the head and not simply on a hose laying in the bottom of the tub... picky picky picky!)
Yea! What a relief. Knowing where we will live over the summer is certainly putting my mind in a restful position. And another cool thing is that my French school is only a few blocks from Hicham's work. So, we will go together in the morning, meet for lunch, he will go back to work and I will study French and well, who the hell knows what else? Blog more maybe?
Last night my friend Negar came over for soup and conversation. While I started out positive about everything, as the conversation blossomed, so did my reservations about the big move again (then the tears and a recap of dread and an affirmation of how perfect my life is). Negar is a good friend, she cried right along with me. I felt very listened to - authentically heard. In fact, just having another person agree that this move wasn't 'a big adventure, exciting or lucky' was a fresh of breath air.
For another example, say someone baked a cake and upon presenting it to the birthday girl, it fell on the floor... who would say,"Wow! Lucky you! Now you get to start over and make another delicious cake!" The baker would be mildly irritated to say the least.
It is as though people are responding to my moving away according to some formula. "Moving to Spain + Spain is fun = so your move must be fun too!" Then I am inclined to respond with at least a few minute explanation on what it means as I currently am interpreting it... which sounds like a drama queen who can't seem to be happy for herself. The conversation then ends with how great it will be. They are probably right, eventually it will be great. In the same way that a suddenly single person will eventually meet someone new. But to jump from one to another? - well maybe that is the right thing... maybe it is maybe it maybe
Surely, my blog must seem like a broken damn record.
In fact, I am leaving for Spain tomorrow. Hicham will have already arrived about an hour in advance of me and will wait in the airport for me. We will spend about 5 days there. He will go to interviews and I will meet Madrid face to face!
Surely, going there and experiencing Madrid will bring new songs to my broken damn record!
Well so, here we are. Just had a nice dinner that I got to cook for two. Thats right Hicham is home for two weeks and so that means more classical music, more herbal tea and some gorgeous intimacy. Yup- I really missed that man.
And so we went to a party, threw a party (both my b-day and his coming home), spent almost a week in the mountains all blissed out with a cozy cabin surrounded my trees and with a fabulous hot tub attached. We watched some cool movies, played scrabble, made good food, went on hikes and generally just appreciated being together. Three months apart was mildly dull for me while he was away but now I hesitate to admit, but believe it to be true, that actually I the three months really lacked serious vivaciousness. Hicham is truly my soul mate and best friend.
So, now we are back from bliss and re-encountering our regular conversation topic. So - what now? (but really, we mean later). As I have lived in Durham for over 5 years, it has become for me a home like I did not even know a place could be. I mean, one might assume that because I was raised in Minnesota - that my home would be where it has been known to snow in April. Of course, we all know that I hate that shitty weather and don't think very positively about the people (plenty of exceptions). MN is not my home and frankly, in my heart, never really was.
This attitude allowed me perhaps to travel as extensively as I did. For three years, footloose and fancy free. My home was my backpack and I didn't want for a thing. The connections I made in all those countries were mutually beneficial and I felt a part of a community of travelers and adventurors. Each day had the possiblity of something different than the day before. It was invigorating - not exhausting to find housing each day (now it sounds like hell).
But here I am, now admitting that I have found a place that I feel a part of - not different from, not particularly excited about - but connected to. Even people I detest (and there are plenty because I am sort-of an asshole), I know that I would help them and they would help me. And anyway, anyone I detest is just presenting an opportunity for me to grow. But I mostly don't seem to want to grow, change, evolve etc. I mean I do, but not really obviously:
So- the constant conversation is: Where will we 'go'? Now, this is clearly not a question that I want to ask or even ponder but Hicham has international needs to fill and those include his family in France and even his extended family in Morocco to some degree. Also, he just wants to live somewhere else at this stage in his life. I don't blame him, when I was his age that was what I did! I got the hell out of here, went to Europe, Nepal, India, Taiwan, Australia, Thailand, Honduras, Guatemala, Mexico, China!
Hicham agrees it is nice here and he likes Durham and agrees it is easy to live, work, place and be here... that is part of the problem. He wants more of a challenge. I, on the otherhand, would happily walk the same trails with Olivia for the rest of her life. When did this happen to me? This 'soul settling'? This 'cultural contentment'? This 'Durham Dream-don't wake me'?
It is hard to know if on one's deathbed if one would rather say, "I sure did it enjoy it where I was for all those years- a simple life, a comfy life an easy life. Great, old friends, deep sense of place and exploration of NC" OR if it would be nicer to utter "Hot damn, what an adventure, living here and there- always seeing something different, expanding my boundaries and challenging my own expectations of reality - it was unpredictable and required me to adapt but it was worth it"...
Yeah so - Hicham will leave in a few days. Back to France to stuff his head full of concepts that I will never grasp and in three months he will be done and then he will do an internship somewhere. There is discussion of London and I will go with him. Then, where is my home? Do I even have the gumption to get up and go and let go of what I have worked to obtain? I mean, not to sound materialistic, BUT our home is a cozy and creative space and one that I dread dismantling only to 'start again' in another country.
