For those of you who were with me when I wrote my Euro blog, I promised I'd write my reflections of being back in the States at some point. You may also recall that this never happened. I guess this is it.
So, I just did the math. In a life time (we are estimating that at 85 years, hopefully, if not more) a person has 1,020 months to live. I lived in France for 7, almost 8, months. I'm just rounding down for today. I lived in France for .69% of my life...that's not even one whole percent of my life people!! So riddle me this, why is it that somewhere I spent so little of my life, consumes so much of my thoughts on a daily basis? I used to get SO frustrated with people who went abroad, and then came back and they literally could not have a conversation without talking about like.... this one time in Greenland..... but now that person is me! I try really hard not to talk about being abroad all the time, but I do have to work not to mention it. I probably still fail a lot. I had a professor last fall who talked about when he studied abroad and how much it changed his life. Now, he was not old by any means, late thirties/early forties, but I wonder if that will be me? Will so many of my thoughts be consumed with nostalgia, even 10+ years down the road?
I think France has been on my mind so much lately because of one reason. Sunday was May 19th, the day all my friends left me in Montpellier to travel or come back to the USA. It really weighed on my mind a lot last week, but in the midst of telling y'all about my fun weekend in So Pi, I sort of glossed over that part of my weekend. That was a monumental day for me last year, because it marked the end of my adventures with all my new friends, and started the fun with my family in France. I just cannot fathom how an entire year has gone by since then, and I'm already 10 months home in the USA. I've been home much longer than I was there. So why can't I stop thinking of my life in France?
When you leave to study abroad, they make sure to tell you that you will have reverse culture shock when you return. That's a load of horse shit. They need to tell you to mentally prepare to have your whole world you knew in the States so turned upside down that you literally can't even go out to eat without getting annoyed with how freakishly cold the American restaurants are, and they need to tell you that even though you SWORE while in France you would never eat and drive at the same time, that you would take the time to enjoy your food, you would one day find yourself late to work, eating in the car. They should tell you that you will hate yourself for compromising on all the promises you told yourself you would uphold upon your return to the USA, because they are just not possible in the American lifestyle. They should tell you that you better say sayonara and au revoir to the old you when you say goodbye to your family when you leave, because that person won't be waiting for you at the baggage claim when you get home. I'm not saying the new me is bad, I love myself (probably too much), but just telling me to "expect reverse culture shock" just has not cut it.
I'm sure the love for France and Europe has to do with the situations because it was all new and fun and I had no obligations other than not to miss the train with the nonrefundable ticket. It is so hard to work a 9-6 job and not reminisce about the days when all I did was eat, drink, and socialize. That's not real life, even for the French, but it was a happy, easy time that literally everyone should kill someone to experience. I'm running out of steam folks, there's not much more.
I just find myself wishing there were more times in the day where I felt connected to France. The most frequent of those times I do feel a little like the French me is when I walk Sienna at night. My neighborhood is so quiet some nights that it feels like I'm back in my secluded little room in Vert Bois Bâtiment B. Which I also miss a lot. Its amusing because of how much I hated that room when I first got there, and now I sit daydream of sitting in my bed, looking out my window, and just being 100% content with my life. I love North Carolina more than any place in the world, but some days France snobbily intrudes on my NC life and takes over for a day or two, and NC just seems so incorrect. Its times like these I could kill for an espresso and a pain au chocolat, and I'm not talking about those gross ones from Panera that looks like a hippo used it for a stool. How many days until WEG in Normandie? 456.
This is not the extent of my thoughts regarding being back in the States, but its all for now. I've worn myself out. Bonne nuit, my loves.
In case you want to know the millions of things I miss about France, here is my Pinterest page of just that! France Pinterest Page
Shout out to my friends from Montpellier. I'd say I miss you more than you can imagine, but I think you have an idea of what I'm feeling.
I remember talking about study abroad with you and Brie one day at the barn before you left...I'm so glad studying abroad exceeded all of your expectations. There really is just no comparison.
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