While I am ecstatic to start grad school in the fall, it does not start until October!  Only… two… more…. months…. ahhhh….  I recently got a job at the Centre Pompidou Library, the BPI.  I am thrilled to have FINALLY gotten a job after all this time!  This, too, however, does not start until August 20th.  And so, since returning from my trip to the States, just like I had been doing before my trip, while my love goes off to his “grown-up job” my life has returned to doing the mundane daily tasks of household chores, grocery shopping, running errands, working out, and a lot of sitting.

“Why don’t you go do something?? You are in PARIS!  How can you be bored??”  This phrase, so commonly uttered, is…bullshit, really.  Yes, I am in Paris and it is a beautiful, lively city… that is very expensive.  No job = no money = no fun.  Without money the metro is “use only as necessary”, most museums are off-limits, sitting in a café for a 7 euro beer is a no-no, and going to the movies is out of the question since they cost about 9 euros a piece.  (When the choice is food and rent vs. a movie, you have to be logical!) Yes I have read books and done some sketching, and sometimes I will just go for walks and look at things, but just like anything, if you do it too much, if it is all you do, it becomes tiresome and less interesting.

All of this…. is why I cannot wait for school and my job to start.  I most of all can’t wait to use my brain for something productive.  Fact: the other day I was so bored I made tiny-sized food items out of playdough and let them dry.  I wish I were kidding.  Though skillfully crafted (I must say) and entertaining enough, I think I may have set my brain 10 years back.  I can’t wait to listen to lectures about art, read and research for my thesis, and write!  I can’t wait to meet others like me, to make some friends and DO something.  I am excited to work at the library, surrounded by books and help people find them.  (One of my favorite things to do at a library is ask to visit the rare books section.  Usually these books are locked away in a special room you have to have permission to access.  It is worth though.  Sometimes they will have books from 19th, 18th ,17th and even 16th centuries (sometimes even earlier!) on hand for you to see.  Just a FYI!)

Oh, I almost forgot!  End of this month, my friend Kasey will be coming to Paris from the US for a visit.  Then in September, my mom and my cousin Michelle will be here, too.

What really keeps me going is the “look-forward list”.  Between my boredom and the list, my patience has slowly diminished.  Gimme… GIMME…. GIMMMMEEEEE!!  Sigh.  Soon enough…

Alright, I am out of patience for today…

I am off to the Marché de Bastille to buy some fresh fruits and other groceries.  I am in Paris, right?  :)

A la prochaine,

Julie

Hello everyone.  I think it is about time I get back to my blogs.  I have neglected them for months, for a long list of reasons, and have lately been thinking a lot about starting back up.  Like most things I set aside, I would tell myself “I really should start doing that again” which would basically pass in a fleeting moment.  But as time went on and found myself thinking about it a lot and people kept asking me “What happened to your blogs? or “Are you going to blog again?”  And so I have finally decided to actually sit down and DO instead of just THINK.

Where have I been these past few months?  This (and I am assuming in my narcissism) is the question you have all been asking yourself every day.  It is a very good question actually, as I have been through hell and back and have passed a fairly eventful past few months.  I guess I can start where I last left off… March 29, 2010.

At this point I was still au pairing, living in Hayes, going through the day to day and pretending…. that I was happy.  While I will openly admit that I was miserable and that au pairing was awful, I see myself as respectful enough not to go into the gruesome details of why this was the worst job ever.  But, in short, the final straw happened and ended (gladly) my au pair gig on April 5th.  I instantly felt an enormous sense of relief mixed in with bitter hatred, confusion, and a small amount of defeat.  That same day I found myself back at my grandparents’ place in Metz.  Thankfully I have the best grandparents in the world and I still cannot thank you enough…

The first few days back, I felt sick.  I cried on and off for a couple days.  I was so angry about how the au pair situation turned out, was scared about my future, missed my boyfriend, I miss my friends and family from back home more and more and all this sent me into the “what does it all mean why am I still here” spiral of bad thoughts. What was I going to do now?  Where should I go?  Where could I go?

Luckily for me my subconscious has always been brutally blunt and finally told me to stop being a whiny brat, to suck it up and file it away behind a closed door, to get off my self-pitying ass and look forward.  Thank god I listened.  I mean, really, I wasn’t out on the street or anything, my family supported my decisions, I had a great boyfriend, I was no longer in a job I hated, and most importantly nothing had changed as far as my desire to go to grad school.  I just kept telling myself I can do this and everything will be fine.  And what do you know, I am alive.

By this time, Julien had been working and living at a friend’s in Paris.  Since I was out of work, I thought it might be time to start looking for another job.  After barely a week back in Metz, one of Julien’s friend’s told me about a temp job working as a receptionist at a school.  I instantly accepted and began packing my bags.  (Literally was still on the phone and started packing).  I was thrilled.  This was exactly the kick in the ass I needed.

I moved to Paris (unofficially) in mid April and cozied up with my boyfriend… and his friend… and his other friend.  For nearly one and a half months, four early twenty-somethings shared a 25 sq. meter (270 sq. feet) studio in the heart of Paris.  Ridiculous you say?  Crowded you say?  Insane you say?  Yes, yes, and yes.  But so fun.  Sure there were moments of “oh my god I can’t do this anymore I need some spaaaaaace!!”  But mostly, the four of us spent that time hanging out 24/7, eating together, going out together, laughing together, getting drunk together, watching movies together , sleeping together – no seriously….Julien and I slept on a one person, yes one person, blowup mattress while his two friends shared a couch futon –  and somehow surviving in our tiny little place.   At least rent was really, really cheap. (Or free in my case…)

During this time, Julien and I made a big decision that couples tend to come across at some point in time: the question of living together.  After sort-of last minute, unsuspectingly living together in such a confined area for so long, we actually didn’t hate each other!!  In fact, we felt closer.  Getting a place together just felt right, and so began the apartment hunting.  Little did we know…..*insert scary screeching killer music*

How can I put this… apartment hunting in Paris is a perfect example of the “Survival of the Fittest” theory.  For every apartment, you have anywhere from five to fifty people gunning for the place.  Each showing is filled with hopeful candidates displaying their best fake smiles and fumbling lies about how great they are, clutching a folder filled with enough paperwork to successfully steal your identity, your parents’ identities, and ruin your life forever.  I cannot tell you exactly how many apartments we saw during our month of searching, but if I had to guess it was close to twenty.  Of these twenty apartments, half of which were inhabitable shitholes, we gave our hopeful little application folder to about 10 places only to come up empty handed.

Disheartened and frustrated, apartment hunting was running our lives.  All free time was spent on the internet researching apartments followed by endless metro travels to visit what seemed like a never ending list of apartments.   Then finally, just one week before the lease was up and we had to be out of our friends’ apartment, we found a place.  It was a perfectly pleasant visit with a kind woman, eager to rent the place out to a young couple.  We loved it and got approved that same day.

On May 30th we moved in to our apartment, cozily located in the 11th arrondissement of Paris, just barely a ten minute walk from the Bastille.  I am still adjusting to the fact that I live in Paris…  !

Around the time we  moved in, I had already sent out my grad school applications, nervously waiting for a response.  I was going to apply to three schools but the one I wanted the most was the Sorbonne.  With its exceptional programs and faculty/staff, the Sorbonne is ranked the number 1 school in France and ranked 27th in the world.  And I got in for a Masters in Art History.  Finally, after all the craziness of au pairing, moving around, being stressed and worrying about my life, things were finally coming together.  I had an apartment, I had a great boyfriend, and I got into school.  I was ecstatic.

In addition to getting accepted, I realized that July 2nd was my one year anniversary of living in France.  I can’t believe how quickly it went by and all the things I did and saw.  I was excited to have stuck it out and build a little life.  At the same time, it made me think about how much I still missed my friends and family and how great it would be to see them.  After talking to my mom, she decided she would kindly (thank you so much mom) give me her frequent flyer miles and bring me home for a little over two weeks!  I was thrilled about the idea of coming back to the States ans see all the people in my life I care about. I was curious to see what has changed and wondered what it would be like to go home after being gone for so long.

I arrived in Chicago on July 8th, exhausted from the always enjoyable eight and a half hour flight and seven hour time difference.  And you know what?  As soon as I got home, everything felt just like it used to.  It didn’t feel as weird as I thought it would and I felt a sense of “home” that I hadn’t felt in a long time.

Currently, as I write this, I am sitting in my bed, the night before I head back to France.  I have spent two amazing weeks seeing the people I love and am so happy to have been able to do this.  Seeing my family and hanging out with my friends was exactly what I needed to top off the list of good things that have recently happened. It is a bitter sweet feeling which excites me knowing Julien and my new Parisian life awaits me, yet sadens knowing I will not be back for quite some time.

They say that as you grow older you learn from your experiences, good or bad, and you change according to the demands in your life.  I have always been ok with change, because change is exciting and new, even if it is a little scary at the same time.  I wouldn’t trade this past year for anything, no matter how crazy it sometimes was.  Tomorrow I am heading back to my new home.  I am a Parisian.  And I am ready.

A bientôt,

Julie.

Tomorrow will officially be 8 months that I have been in France.  That is strange to say out loud.  It’s interesting to see how I have grown and adjusted since I have been here.  Sure I am still mostly the same, but I have learned and experienced so much that it is only natural to go through some changes.  I find myself really enjoying the lifestyle in France.  Sure, my current job/living situation isn’t “typical” nor really the ideal situation, but it is a start.  This summer I will (hopefully)be  moving to Paris for grad school.  Fingers crossed… !

Anyways, some recent travels…

In late January I went with my boyfriend to Nancy, a city about 35  minutes south of Metz.  I have been Nancy plenty of times over the years during my visits France, but it had been about 7 years since I had last seen the city.  It has a famous plaza called La Place Stanislas dating back to the early 1750s; it is gorgeous.  The plaza and its former royal palace are accompanied by its famous gold and black gates, the royal crest still dawning their peaks. Today, the palace’s sections have been turned into a museum, a hotel, an opera, the Hôtel de Ville (a government building), a pavilion, restaurants, cafes, and even a night club.

While we were in Nancy, we went to a “beer bar” called Le Ch’timi in the vielle ville part of Nancy.  Although France isn’t exactly known for their beer (not to say they don’t have a few quality ones!) being so close to Belgium and Germany means plenty of beer is available    The cool part about Le Ch’timi?  Besides its old fashioned, thick wooden beamed decor and wooden tables, is that their drink list (about 6 pages long) contained beers from all over the world.

I ordered a Belgian beer called Pauwel Kwak.  I had never had it before but as I tend to prefer darker, hoppy beers my choice was made easy when I read the description “strong and heady”.  Plus, I can’t say I have ever had a bad Belgian beer.

Then, last week I went to the Alps with my au pair family.  We stayed in a town called Châlet, just near to the Swiss boarder.  Though I am not a skier, I can not deny the breathtaking view.  I would definitely like to go back with friends sometimes, and hey, maybe maybe give skiing a retry or maybe attempt snowboarding… maybe.

That about brings everything up to date.  I have some time off coming up, so Wednesday I will be heading to Paris again with my boyfriend, visiting grad schools and hanging out the city.  I still feel like I am at that major transitional point in my life and have no idea what is yet to come.  But to me, that’s what this whole experience is all about.  That’s the best part…

A la prochaine,

Julie.

My holiday break started December 22nd.  I spent the week prior dreaming about getting away from everything for a bit.  Spending some time with my family for Christmas, traveling, and seeing old friends.  The week before my break was torture, really, because all I could think about was having 4 weeks off of work!!

And then I met Julien.  Yes, everyone, I met a boy.  Little did I know that going out for drinks at the Irish Pub would lead to me falling for a Frenchy.  I guess it is true what they say, that you always find someone when you aren’t looking.  But that’s for another time

So finally, December 22nd came and I returned to my grandparents’ house to spend Christmas with them.  This was to be my first Christmas in France; I was both excited to spend Christmas here and sad to miss Christmas with my family back home.  This year in France, my Christmas including my grandparents, my uncle, two of my cousins, and myself.  Unfortunately about half of my family couldn’t make it: My father and brother were in the US, my Aunt spent her Christmas in the South with her brand new baby granddaughter, and three missing cousins, spread out in France and Italy.  But it was fun none-the-less, with lots and lots of food and drinks and laughter. (For details on the food… see my food blog!)

mmmmm… escargots!

After Christmas I went to Scotland.  A friend of mine from college, Katie, is going to grad school at University of Aberdeen and invited me to visit!  Another friend of ours, Joe, flew in from Chicago as well.

I flew in to Scotland on December 27th and, unfortunately had a slight mishap.  Due to weather, my flight was delayed an hour and a half, causing me to miss my train to Aberdeen, forcing me to spend a night in Edinburgh, buying a bus ticket and heading out early the next morning.  At the time I was frustrated, but looking back it is kind of ridiculous and funny.  Either way, I made it to Aberdeen the next day around noon.  Katie took me to get my first real Fish N’ Chips and showed me around the city.  The Fish ‘N Chips was awesome, and the city is absolutely beautiful.

Aberdeen is located on the eastern coast of Scotland, a bit in the north.  Katie took me on a gorgeous walk up the River Dan which lets into the North Sea.  I even got to see an old World War II bunker that over time has been slowly sinking into the sand.

The three of us and Claire, a friend of Katie’s, then went to Edinburgh to spend New Year’s Eve at the city’s famous street party.  Our first day there we walked around the city and visited Edinburgh Castle.  Situated high up on a cliff, the castle, its fortress barrier, and several buildings within the walls are still intact.  The castle dates back to the 12th century and is absolutely breathtaking.

New Year’s Eve was, needless to say, awesome.  Edinburgh closes one of its largest streets (Princess Street), provides a stage with music, plenty of lights, and fireworks at midnight; There were easily a few thousand people.  The four of us had a great, great time!

Afterward we spent the next two days wandering the city, taking pictures, eating, and drinking beers at pubs.  Scotland is a beautiful country and I would recommend to anyone who has never been to go!!

I flew back to France on January 2nd, celebrated my 24th birthday on the 4th, and spent more time at my grandparents’ house and at my boyfriends’ place.  This brings us up to today, sitting in my Mamine’s den, writing this post.  Tomorrow I am going to Paris with Julien for a few days before heading back Hayes to work on the 19th.  I think its safe to say I have had a hell of month…

A la prochaine!

Julie

I think the greatest thing about moving to a new country and traveling alone is how much you learn about yourself.  I don’t think anything pushes your psychological state as much as throwing yourself into a place where no matter how much you read about it, how many times you have vacationed there, or  how much you think you know,  you are clueless.  When I initially left the US, besides being sad to leave friends and family, I was bothered that I had to leave behind the majority of my belongings including dvds, books, art supplies, apartment “things”, my bed, a car, some clothes and countless other things.  Yet the more time I spent here the less I cared about those things.  I have come to really understand the fact that things are just things and can be replaced.  They don’t matter anymore.

To be honest, and to my surprise, that feeling passed quickly.  You almost don’t have time to worry about those “things” because suddenly you are forced to relearn the basics in “how to live” and the process of building a new life.  Where do I go to get my haircut now?  How does the medical system work here?  How do you say “are you hiring?” in French?  What do I do if I need _____?  The everyday things we take for granted, the stuff we don’t think about and just do, those are the biggest test.  They test your patience.  They test your ability to ask questions, to not be afraid to show that yes you may be a little naive but are trying to learn.  Never have I lived more by the expression “you learn something new everyday” since I have been here.

I remember very early on after moving here, maybe a few weeks, going to the pharmacy to pick up a presciption for my grandma.  I have never really been sick in France before, maybe because all the times we vacationed as a kid I was neve here long enough.  As I was standing I line looking around, I realized not a single thing in the pharmacy looked familiar.  Nothing.  I started wondering, “Which one of these boxes if for headaches?” , “Which one is the cough syrup?”,  “I have never heard of any of those brands of condoms before”, “I don’t even see where the band-aids are!” and so on.   It was then that I realized, “wow, I really do have a lot to learn.”  That little epiphany was my first big “moment” when I realized I am actually living here aren’t I.

I’ve noticed in the last 5 and 1/2 months how I feel I have grown stronger in character from my experiences here.  Even when I have those days when I just want to break down and cry from feeling alone or like I don’t know what I am doing, it always passes and I always end up okay.  I have found that I can count on myself a lot more than I give myself credit.  It used to sometimes worry me that I didn’t know what was going to happen in my future, but now it excites me.  I don’t know where I will be a few years from now.  Will I stay in France?  Go back to the US?  To a different country maybe?  I don’t know.

While I don’t think I was ever a person who was afraid of change, now I know that I am not.  Change is an adrenaline rush; the unknown, while sometimes scary, is surprisingly gratifying.    I am having a great time meeting people, learning new things, traveling, and absorbing as much as I can.  I know I still have so much to learn, but for the first time in my life, I feel really free in myself.  I am okay with who I am, with being on my own, and with the decision I made to come here.  This is right.

A la prochaine,

Julie

Europe is about one-third the size of the United States, something a lot of people do not realize.  France, for example, is approximately the same size as Texas.  The great thing about Europe being small is how close you are to other countries.  Traveling around Europe is very easy, especially since the creation of the European Union (open boarders).  From where I live for example (Metz, France), by car I can be in Luxembourg in forty-five minutes, Germany in an hour, and Belgium in and hour and fifteen minutes.  Europe also has a great train system and continental European flights can run as cheap as 39 euros by using airlines such as RyanAir.

Since being here, I have traveled all around France, been to Germany, to Luxembourg, and will be heading to Scotland December 27th.  In the spring I am hoping to get to Belgium, the Netherlands, and maybe to Vienna or Prague.

I went to Luxembourg about a week ago with a friend who works there (merci Damien) and he was able to show me around.  My favorite part was the veille ville (old town) called “Le Ground”; it is beautiful.  Luxembourg is set in a deep valley, the oldest part in the bottom, the newer parts built outwards.  Unfortunately it was raining the day I went, but it was still so interesting.  Seeing how much the landscape shifts, both architecturally and culturally speaking, in such a short drive was really exciting.

Luxembourg is a tiny country with an interesting, ancient history.  The country has, over time, diminished in size and only a small percent of its population remains true Luxembourgeois.  The local language (Luxembougeois) sounds like a combination of English, German, and maybe a little French.  It is only spoken, and up until about two or three years ago there was no dictionary or proper written form of the language.

All around the veille ville are ruins from the city’s ancient fortress wall.  I have always been a sucker for ruins

From the 15th to the early 19th century, Luxembourg was ruled by the Hapsburgs, one of the longest reins in it’s long history.  In the photo below, the coat of arms for the Counts and Dukes from this period is still displayed throughout the city.  It remains the State’s coat of arms today.

I would like to back to Luxembourg sometime soon (maybe on a sunny day) and spend some more time looking at the architecture more and maybe finding some of the museums.  At least it is only a 45 minute trip away

A la prochaine,

Julie.

When you move to a new country, no matter how well you think you know the culture and the people, you don’t.  Culture shocks are common, almost required, when relocating to another part of the world.  And whether you find yourself completely appalled or completely in love with certain cultural mores the best way to learn them, and remember them, is to live them.  Especially when you make mistakes.

Since coming to France as a child, I thought I knew a lot about French life, culture, and people.  No, I never thought I knew everything, and I knew I had A LOT to learn, but I definitely think I overestimated myself.  Since I have been here of course I have experienced some misunderstandings or had some fairly uncomfortable interchanges with people but, like I said, I learned.  These past 5 and a half months have taught me a lot about the social values and politics of French life.  While I have remarked the billions of differences in almost every aspect of life in France versus the United States, where have I noticed the biggest difference?

The rules of love and relationships.  I don’t think I could have been less prepared for the life lesson I was about to be handed.  No, I have not had anything serious while being here, but I have spent my months meeting lots of people, having “interests” and one “fling”, if it can even be called as such.  And so, I have compiled a list of differences I have noticed between the rules of American and French relationships:

The Top Ten Things I’ve Learned About French “Love”:

1. PDA (a.k.a Public Displays of Affection) PDA includes everything from holding hands and kissing to snuggling, starring into each others eyes saying “mon coeur” to making out and sometimes boarder-line sexual activity.  While back in the States a little PDA is okay, a lot of it tends to be reserved for when you are spending time alone.  In France, PDA is not only acceptable, but seems almost encouraged.  Whether walking past rows of cafes, walking through the park, or in line at everything from the movies to the grocery store, PDA is there in full force.  Love or Lust?  I still can’t decide.

2. Dates, Hangouts, Casual Meetings Going out for drinks?  A movie?  Dinner?  Ice Cream?  Shopping?  The man pays.  End of conversation.  Whether you are on a date or hanging out with guy friends, as a woman, you will almost never, ever, pay.  I had a difficult time adjusting to this one because I felt weird always letting guys pay for me.  And while I have gotten used to it and sometimes it is nice, I still occasionally have a hard time and will insist on paying.  Though I think with some time I can make some concessions for this one if necessary…

3.  I Man, You Woman The fact of the matter is, that even though France and most of Europe have come a long way, women are seen as inferior (usually) as in literally the guy should make more money, be stronger, smarter, etc.  Sure this exists still in the US, but not to the extent that it does here.  Men are not used to a woman that makes more than him, has a lot of ambition, isn’t afraid to speak her mind or talk about sex, and so on.  Please realize I am speaking in generalizations, as I have met some men who are not like this, but for the most part this rule tends to be true.  This one has been a reeeaallly difficult one to swallow and I am not sure if I ever will.

However, I will admit that chivalry is not dead, it is in France.  Never have I had so many doors held, been helped with my coat, had an armed placed around my shoulder, been served politely by men at a store and so on.  I guess there are always two sides to a coin.

4. Hello, Kiss, Love While in the US when we meet someone we like, we usually take some time to get to know the person before getting into a romantic relationship.  Well, in France, it is not uncommon for people to couple up after just ONE date.  1 rendez-vous + goodnight kiss = boyfriend/girlfriend.  I had seen and had been told this before, but did not believe it until I experienced it myself.  I had only been here maybe 2 months when I met a guy and we went out one night.  We had a great time and at the end of the night when he dropped me off he asked if he could give me kiss and I said yes.  We spoke the next day and then saw each other the following day and when the subject came up as to what our intentions were he looked at me, puzzled, that I would assume anything accept that we were dating.  This was quite a shock to me and ended up being an interesting yet strange 3 week “thing” that died faster than a 10 cent goldfish from the pet store.  That lesson I made sure to remember; no kisses until I know I want to be their girlfriend.

5.  Its Been One Week? Number 4 sort of leads into number 5.  Apparently, when you were “with” someone, even for just one week (or three) it is normal to refer to the experience as a past relationship and for this person to be referred to as your Ex.  This one I will never understand.  One week does not a relationship make.

6. Affection Fact: French guys like to snuggle and have no problem admitting this.  This is one on the Top Ten I really like.  Sleeping over at a guys the first night is totally accepted, and I literally just mean sleeping.  When a guy says “I want you to stay the night with me because I want you in my arms”  it does not automatically mean “I want to have sex with you”.  Yes, this one was a first hand experience and at the time had no idea that is what that meant, which led to me declining to thus hurting his feelings to my total confusion followed by me asking my friends to explain followed by me quickly realizing this “relationship” was going nowhere fast because I had just failed.  Lesson learned.

7.  Mon Coeur, Ma Princesse, Cherie…. Pet names and verbal affections are almost as required as PDA.  The strangest one was learning “Je t’aime” (the French version of I love you) does not have the same grandious, this-is-a-big-deal importance that “I love you” does in English.  This can sometimes be said in the first few weeks of a relationship.  And once it is said, be sure to say it often.  “Je t’aime mon coeur j’ai hâte de te voir ma princesse” works just fine.  (I love you my heart and I can’t wait to see you my princess).

8.  Games and More Games There is a lot of sly game playing going on and I do not speak the language.  The woman is supposed to play a role to reel in the man but is not usually the one to approach and should seem uninterested even if she is only to then pretend to be woooed by her admirer as he “faire son Français” which means to “do/play his French” meaning turning on the charm.  If a man is interested in a woman, he will have to be the one to make the move.  Most French woman will just wait rather than take the initiative.  And if he does not approach her, she will move on to the next guy without saying anything.  Interesting, to say the least.

9. Show Me, Don’t Tell Me When getting to know/dating a person, the French seem to have this unspoken language of saying what you want without actually saying it.  Openly talking about what you expect in the relationship, talking about sex, talking about what you think all the time is just not necessary.   And I thought learning the spoken French language was hard enough…

10. Friends? There is a fine line between friend and lover.  In the US it is common to go to lunch with coworkers or acquaintances, man or woman, alone or with others.  However, in France if a guy and girl are alone out and about, a lot of people assume you are together.  My going out for drinks with a guy alone has turned into me explaining that we are just friends, and that I am sorry I did not realize you were expecting more.

In the end, these things are not all necessarily bad things nor good things, they are just different things.  As I said, my experiences here have taught me a lot and I expect that I still have so much to learn.  Not just on love, but in all social behavior of living in France.  One day at a time I guess. 

A la prochaine,

Julie.

This past week, my friend Raechel came to visit for ten days!  It was so great to see a familiar face, someone who I can just be myself with, someone who gets me.

We spent a weekend in Paris visiting one of my cousins and the city, then went to Metz and Hayes for the rest of the week.  One of the things I like about having someone visit me in France is that I get a chance to share with them something I have never been able to explain with words: why I love France.  Because I have family here and know Paris and Metz fairly well, I was able to show Raechel a view of France other than that of a usual tourist.  The best way to really feel a country’s culture is to live it; to spend time in real people’s homes, eat real local foods, and enjoy not only the large monuments but the subtleties of your surroundings.

On Thanksgiving, I made a meal for 12 people including myself: my first full Thanksgiving meal! (check out my other blog: La Belle Life for more details!)  It was really great to share something so unique to American culture with my French family and friends.

After taking Raechel to the train station this morning, I became sad and felt lonely.  Small waves of the “whatamidoinghere’s” crept up behind me as they do from time to time.  As the day went on I shook them off and realized how much stronger of a person this whole experience has made and is making me.  Seeing Raechel was something I definitely needed, but I know I am doing the right thing being here.  Tomorrow it’s back to work and back to “normal” life.

A la prochaine,

Julie.

When my mom was 18, she was invited by a friend to vacation and visit her friend’s family in Metz, France.  Fresh out of high school, not knowing a word of French, my mother gladly accepted and boarded a plane to Europe for the first time.  Little did she know that this experience would forever change her life.

Throughout the trip, her friend kept saying “don’t worry so-and-so speaks English you will be alright”.  It didn’t take long, however, for my mom to notice that “speak English” actually meant “says a few sentences then gives up”.  After several days of frustration, my mom accepted that she would just have to rely on translations and try to enjoy the sites.  One day, my mom and her friend went to her friend’s cousin’s to hang out.  My mom was introduced to a friend of the cousin, my dad.  She was told, “this is Jean-Michel, he speaks English”.   My mom being polite smiled and spoke to him, assuming his English skills were as minimal as all the previous “English speakers” she had met thus far.  This time, however, to my mom’s surprise, this man could actually speak!   He and my mom spent the remainder of her trip talking and getting to know one another.

For the next several years, they wrote letters and took turns visiting one another both in the US and in France.  One summer while visiting my dad, my mom decided she would take some time off of school and live in France.  Later, in August of 1978, at the age of 21, my father packed his things and moved to the US to be with my mom.  They were married a couple years later and gave birth to me in 1986 followed by my brother in 1988.

As a child,  the French culture was an important part of my life.  We spoke French at home, had French au pairs, visited  the country every 2-3 years, and ate French food.  I always loved visiting France, spending time with my family, traveling around, eating food, and experiencing the culture first hand.   I remember telling everyone that someday I was going to try and live there.  I could never tell if people thought I was serious or not, but when I said it I meant it with all my heart.

In January of 2009, I turned 23 and had one semester of college left.  I had been nervously waiting on my grad school applications, knowing that because of the extreme difficulty of getting into an art history masters program, I may not be going back to school in the fall.  In order to calm my nerves I would close my eyes and think about the upcoming summer, how my dad and brother and I would be visiting France again to celebrate my grandparents 60th wedding anniversary.  And then it dawned on me… after all these years of talking about living in France, I decided that if I didn’t get into grad school, I would move to France.  I told myself it’s now or never.

When April came and I received my rejection letters, I was devastated.  I found myself going through a  “what does it all mean/my life is over/what am I going to do with myself??” phase.  After several days of self-loathing, I decided I really was going to move.  I think when I made the decision back in January, I had assumed I was going to be going to grad school and that while it was a good back up plan, I don’t think I really thought it would happen.  With only three months left until July, I began to set into motion everything I would need to do to leave.  My lease on my apartment was up in May, so I moved in with some friends for a couple months to work as much as a could before quitting my job.  I moved back to my mom’s house a few weeks before leaving, packed up my life into a suitcase and a backpack and boarded the plane to France.

November 2nd will be 5 months that I have been here.  I can’t believe how quickly it has gone by.  In these past months, I have learned a lot about France, about the culture, the way of life here, and especially about myself.  Though the act of coming here was easy, the staying can be difficult.  I have gone through some adjustments, learning how to live like the French, making new friends, starting a new job, and so forth.  But I have also learned how much more I can handle in life, how little I need to survive and how courageous I was to do this.  I am currently working on grad school applications to French school for the fall of 2010.  I am meeting new people, traveling around Europe, and experiencing life from a different point of view.

On one of my “bad days” when feeling lonely, I was talking to my dad about how sometimes it is really difficult.  He told me how when he left for the US, he went through the same thing.  He told me that he almost went back to France on numerous occasions.  He then told me, “If this is something you really want, everything will eventually fall into place.  It may take some time, but it will happen.  I am proud of you.”  My mom told me that though it was hard at times when she lived in France, it changed her life and she wouldn’t change it for anything.  Having my parents support me in being here has been an enormous help.

In this blog, I plan on sharing  intimate details of my experiences as I adjust to a new life.  The past 5 months have taught me a lot, especially the misunderstandings and mistakes.  I want to share my experiences (and my learning process) with the culture, the food, love, friendship, family, and the everyday life of the French.

These are the adventures of an ex-pat.

A la prochaine,

Julie