Day 14: Seize the Day

My mom was kind enough to remind me today amid our frantic texting (since there are only a few hours each day that fit the schedule of communication) that I have been in France for two weeks! Where has all the time gone? I feel like I have been here for much longer than that, but at the same time I feel like I have just left home. The fact that there are still so many new experiences each day probably doesn’t help. I have found some footing since my arrival, but that footing has been unstable and unreliable. The day I stepped off the plane, I should’ve known that my life had changed forever. There isn’t any going back.

That may sound depressing: it isn’t. The fact is: I’m working on becoming who I was always meant to be! Each day here, I realize that it isn’t just the people that I’m afraid of or the language! I’m afraid of finally realizing who I am. I think the best thing that I could do was take away all of the comforts that I had built up in the world I left behind. Now, though I still have amazing communication abilities with home, I have been left to my own devices. When things get tough, I can’t drive home. I can call home, and I know I will have someone there to help me through those tough times, but I can’t rely too heavily on their distant support.

This is a momentous occasion indeed. I sit, nowadays, for many hours just peering out my window at the wide world. The high mountains tower over this bustling city. Daunting and magnificent. The light moves across their faces, evincing new crevices and soaring peaks. The snow blankets each peak creating a jagged jaw biting at the (sometimes) clear skies. There are cloudy days with rain and snow. Sometimes the cold creeps under your skin and you wonder if you will get inside before you have frozen nearly to the core. Other times, the sun spreads its arms and you feel glorious warmth. It wraps you up, soul and all, until all you can remember are those faint nipping winds that grab at the tip of your nose.

Of the city, I can truly say that I have been through centuries of human existence merely by taking the time to step off the tramway (their version of UTA Trax!). At one point in time, the tallest building at the valley floor was the spires of a cathedral, sturdy against the tests of time. We walk across a bridge, one of the oldest in the city, to take a stair-filled pathway up the bottommost part of the mountainside. The stairs lead up, up, up. Each step takes you to a new vista of the sprawling cityscape below. Mashed up streets, buildings rising out of the ground here and there with rivers bending and twisting man’s creation, and newer infrastructures leap to greater heights, altogether this is a new symphony: this city has a rhythm all its own. Much different from home: the ordered tempo, the gradual crescendo and decrescendo, and the expected staccato. The new movement and pace has caught me off guard. I need to accustom myself to these differences before I start trying to interject my quiet harmony.

I should go back and describe the “we” of this scenario. Some of you won’t believe this; especially those that know me well. I have actually made new friends! Yes, I even have photographic proof (and, no, I did not have to pay them anything to stand around and take photos with me! The first of the group includes Kitty, Lisa, Michelle, and Dahye. I can tell that they all will be important characters in this new adventure of mine! Kitty is from the Netherlands, and she pushes us all to practice our French (THANK YOU!). Lisa, from Germany, has helped me practice a great deal of Franglish, and she has provided (and braved the streets of Grenoble in) her car on a very important Ikea expedition. Michelle is Indonesian and she comes from Down Under! Finally, Dahye is Korean, and though she is sometimes quiet, I think she is an important member of the group (because I’m quiet most of the time…).

There are others, though, not that they lack any importance! There is Arlieke, a friend of Kitty’s, Ambra, from Italy who helps us all speak French, Nick, from the states-New York, and Tom, another New York native. I have also come to realize, that though it may feel like I am alone in this new world without much English, there are many other U.S. Americans and British students here.

The original group, from left to right: Jesse, Lisa, Michelle, Dahye, and Kitty. This was taken at Punto Gusto, an Italian bistro with amazing pasta and a latte to die for (mostly because it is the only coffee I've had since I arrived...).

Ambra, Kitty, Dahye, Michelle, and Jesse: Remember that note about the old bridge? Well if you get enough people to jump at the center of it, the bridge actually undulates... 

One of my favorite shots taken by Michelle.

Most of the days are spent trying to decipher the language. That has been the most difficult part so far. The processes to obtain a bank account were lengthy, but were no more difficult than if I were home. The processes to buy a French cell phone, again, were not that difficult. My understanding of these processes, however, was greatly diminished by the fact that I have trouble deciphering the sounds that come out of other people’s mouths! I swear I have been studying this language for the passed two and a half years. I swear! Even with those odds on my side, I sit and I wonder what is happening around me.

My classes go about the same way. They are set in two-hour time blocks. I only have six classes this semester (which sounds like a lot, but it leaves me with a lot of free time). They are two-hour time blocks, but they are only once a week. Doesn’t sound that bad, it really isn’t, but those two hours can drag on and on. Especially when the seating in the classes is quite uncomfortable. Though, I guess with a little perspective, it really isn’t that bad at all.

On Mondays, I take a Media and Writing course that discusses some literature and has us practice our writing skills, ahem, our French writing skills. After that course, I am supposed to have a Linguistics course on Syntax and Discourse. This class doesn’t start until this upcoming Monday, so we will see what it has in store for me!

Tuesdays consist of one class in the morning. The two-hour block is split between two instructors. The first hour, the group practices translating French to English in the most accurate and fluent way possible under the guiding hand of a quick-witted British man. The second hour is spent under the unsteady and altogether nutty guidance of a lightning-tongued French woman translating English phrases to French. But seriously, she talks so fast! It is all I (and the others in the class) can do to keep up (mentally and in our notebooks…).

Wednesday mornings are spent in French Grammar. The instructor is deliberate in speech and chooses his words for our understanding. This deliberate nature early in the morning leads to a lot of yawning on my end, though I’m sure it will be beneficial in the end. He has promised to teach us practical grammar, that of true spontaneous speech. It seems a bit out of my reach at the moment, I must say.

Thursdays leave me the morning to myself. I am still adjusting to the timing here, so I have been sleeping in a lot. This may or may not be beneficial in the long run. Anyway, the afternoons consist of two classes. The first is a practical course on speech centered on the theme of the local history. It is taught by the grammar teacher, though this time around I have a better time staying awake. The first class was spent learning a lot about different maps and documents presented in class. Well, my attempt at learning it since I am still having a hard time deciphering any spoken French at the moment. Afterward, I head to my Cinéma course. We have now watched four clips from The Jazz Singer, two Charlie Chaplin pieces, and an A. Hitchcock classic, Blackmail. The instructor is mellow in his temper and speaks quite softly. I can tell that he loves what he does, but I still don’t catch most of what he is talking about. Needless to say, I probably won’t fill my notebooks this semester…

That brings us to today, Friday. No true classes today, though I did sign up for a hiking course! Well, as the facilitator detailed at the informational meeting today, it will be more of a snowshoeing course… Yes, snowshoes, or “raquettes” in French. I’ll probably never forget that word. I didn’t bring my big coat with me, wouldn’t fit in the suitcase, so I guess that gives me a week to find a (hopefully) waterproof coat and some suitable pants! Grief, this homework is going to be a tough one. I guess I will look at this expense like I look at book expenses back home: necessary.

And thus is my life. My new life, in France. We have already started making plans for our breaks. There are too many amazing places (Italy, Switzerland, the south of France, Germany). I am going to try to get to as many of them as I can.

Anyway, here’s to a good dose of Carpe Diem. Seize the day! I recently watched The Best Exotic Marigold Hotel, rented from iTunes. Sonny continually stated that, “Everything will be all right in the end... if it's not all right then it's not yet the end.” That really hit home, for it was during an afternoon of homesickness. I knew at that moment that I would be all right. No matter what, the world progresses to a new day, and I am there to see the dawn of that new day. I can make a million mistakes today, but tomorrow will always be a new day. If I make a fool of myself today, I will be that much wiser tomorrow. This is a very extenuated series of trials and errors that will lead me to a greater appreciation of life. Tomorrow will give me new opportunities to seize the day, even if today wasn’t that successful. If I can keep that in mind, success is surely the only outcome, non?

Well, here’s to seizing the day. Let’s all see what tomorrow has in store for us, shall we?