I made it home!! I've been home for about a week, and it's taken that long to adjust to American culture. After six weeks in Brittany, we all prepared to leave our new homes and families and head for the city of lights and of love, Paris. I had dinner with my host parents and Monique's aunt and uncle (who were stranded in Brest with us) for my last night in Brittany. We talked and laughed so much, and we ate even more. Dinner started with melon, nuts, galettes, and meat with cheese. We had a dish of veggies with cheese and tomato sauce, then toast with ham, cheese, and spices, then salmon with rice and a veggie cake, then cookies and fruit for dessert! And bread of course. The French have no fear of carbs. Their little dog, who had growled at me every time I tried to pet him during our RV trips, came up and let me scratch his ears!! He barked at me when I stood up from the table, but I'm trying to forget that. I want to remember only the happy times in our relationship. Monique's aunt and uncle gave me their address so that I could write to them.
We left their house about midnight and I went home to sleep in my bed for the last time. I could feel my throat tighten as I said goodnight to Monique and Dominique and headed for my bedroom. I took my time getting ready for bed. I knew this night would come, but that knowledge didn't make the reality any easier. My packed suitcases had been a constant reminder of how little time I had left. As I crawled in bed, I felt the tears coming, but I fell asleep so quickly that they never came. This summer was so much more than an academic experience. I miss my host family fiercely. I keep up with them on Facebook -my host sister just had her baby!- but it isn't the same as living with them like their own child.
The next morning, I wasn't my normal groggy self when my alarm went off. I lay in bed trying to believe that this was my last time in my room. I dressed slowly and sat on my bed for a while. I had breakfast for the last time with my parents. We weren't very talkative. I felt like I had so much to say but no words. Dominique put my luggage in the car before they took me to meet the rest of my group. When we neared the meeting place, I thought, "I'm gonna cry. I am so gonna cry." When we got out of the car though, I was holding it together well and was distracted by moving my luggage to the bus and saying hello to the other students. We talked for maybe twenty minutes with the students, families, and our professors. When Larry called us all to the bus, it was at least five more minutes before anyone made a move away from their family. Any hopes I had of not crying flew out the window once I saw Monique crying. Aw, man. I thanked my parents as well as I could and gave my last kisses and half-hugs. The French aren't real touchy (gee, could I tell stories about that), but when Monique kissed my cheek the last time, she held me close with an arm tight around me. That counts as a hug, right?
We reluctantly found seats on the bus and continued to wave to our families. Dominique waved and Monique blew me kisses. As we pulled out of the parking lot, it was impossible to distinguish between the laughing and crying. We passed around tissues and laughed with each other. One boy shared his "J'aime la Bretagne" teddy bear with a girl who already missed her family terribly. As we got on the highway, we were passed by a host family with rolled down windows to wave to their student. That brought another wave of tears and funny and touching stories of our families. Doesn't that sound ridiculous? We were emotional wrecks, but see how affected we were by our time with these families?
Our first stop was at Versailles. Oh. My. Word. Can you say "extravagant?" There were hundreds of rooms, each with a domed ceiling and intricate crown moulding. There are extensive gardens and a cathedral inside the palace! We had about two hours to see what we could. There was a crazy amount of people in there, so we moved with the crowd. Oh! We saw some Americans. We heard some too. As we waited outside with other student groups, there was a group from the States behind us. We heard the leader say, "Alright, everyone. Don't let any other groups come between us. Stay together and push!" As they hurried through the rest of the groups and to the front of the line shouting, "Push! Push!" we look at each other, astonished. On peut faire ça?! On peut pas faire ça!! You can't do that. They weren't let in before the other groups, and when we walked past, there were several in my group who shouted, Poussez! Poussez! (Push! Push!)
We continued on towards Paris, and there were many shouts as we saw the Eiffel Tower in the distance. "We're really here! We're really in Paris!!" We had a tour of the major sights of the city before taking the metro for the first time for our dinner at the youth hostel. When we were full and happy, we headed back into the city for a boat ride along the Seine. We glided through a Paris that seemed magical with the sparkling Tower and musicians playing for small audiences along the river. As we drifted under a bridge glimmering with the metal locks of lovers to symbolize the strength and permanence of their love, the girl seated next to me exclaimed, "La vie est vraiment belle!" (Life is truly beautiful!)
Our next few days were packed with activity. We left the hostel early each morning and never returned before midnight. One of my favorite moments was the night we all climbed the Arc de Triomphe. The city was lit up underneath us as we stood in the middle of the biggest roundabout I've ever seen. The twelve streets make a star-like shape as they meet the Arc. One of my professors sat a group of us girls down to tell us a story he knew we would adore. He was nineteen when he first came to Paris. The first thing he did was climb the Arc de Triomphe, and as he reached the top, there was a man proposing to his girlfriend. That was the moment he fell in love with Paris.
My favorite day was the last full day we had before we left France. We arrived at the Louvre at nine in the morning. We were there as a student group and were supposed to stay with our professors. Once we were inside, we gathered very very closely to listen to what Larry wanted to whisper to us. He said that once we climbed the stairs to our right, he would discreetly pull off his "group leader" nametag and we would disperse as if we didn't know each other. Since we didn't have individual tickets, we were supposed to play it smart, not make eye contact with museum employees, and fumble around in our purses for a long time if they asked to see our tickets. "I know it's in here somewhere..."
When Larry finished his instructions, he said they would see us at six. Nine hours in Paris?! Sweet!! We wandered the Louvre for several hours; it is a massive museum. My favorite piece was a sculpture of Psyche and her god. Till We Have Faces, anyone? Ah, it was beautiful. When we saw all we wanted to (and several hundred other pieces), we bought macaroons and had lunch in the gardens in front of the museum. We took the metro to the Père Lachaise Cemetary to seek out some familiar names like Oscar Wilde and Edith Piaf. We cracked up after trying to explain to an American man how to find Jim Morrison's grave. He approached us and said "Jim Morrison?" and pointed to his tshirt, which displayed the rocker's visage. We supplemented our French instructions, which he didn't understand, with hand gestures.
After a few hours and tons of walking, we boarded the metro for the modern art museum the Centre Pompidou. We chatted with another group before spending some time exploring the museum. I've never been able to decide how I feel about modern art, but I know I enjoyed the museum. Then we headed for the Champs Elysees in search of the Haagen Dazs we saw during our tour of Paris. There we spent almost 63 euros on ice cream. No regrets. We met up with the rest of our group and our professors for our last dinner together, and -surprise! It was at a karaoke bar!! Since it was our last night, we were allowed to sing in English. There were some goofy song choices; all the boys (including the profs) sang Avril Lavine's "Complicated."
When we got back to the hostel, we shared all the soda that was leftover from our goodbye party with our Breton families. One kid brought a portable scale which was passed frantically around many of the girls' rooms. We had some issues with heavy suitcases as we tried to check bags at the airport the next morning. Boy, was that an experience. There was a self check-in that didn't work with any of our passports, so three Air France women signed us in one by one. The line to check luggage took as long as a French dinner. By the time all our luggage was checked and we raced through security, we had no more than ten minutes before our flight took off. We ran through the airport (which isn't small). At least we didn't have to sit long on the plane before it left the runway! Again, we were spread out in the plane, but that didn't keep us from talking to each other- but this time it was in French! There were a few words spoken in English, but our American accents were so strange! Needless to say, we spoke in French for most of the flight. I tried a few times to speak in English, but it was near impossible, so I gave up. My responses were short, like "fine," but often they came out in French before I knew what I said. It was the strangest experience; I couldn't get my mind or my lips to form my native language. I didn't worry but just stuck to French.
It didn't prove to be a problem till I got to customs in Chicago. I walked with my open passport to the counter where the officer asked way too quickly "how it was going." I felt my eyes get bigger as I repeated slower in my head what he had said. How....how's it...going. Oh! "Good." Then somehow something French slipped out, and he asked, without smiling, "You trying to speak French with me?" Oops. Then I tried to explain in English that I hadn't spoken English for several months. He asked me way too many questions than I was comfortable with or could answer with my less than proficient English. In the middle of a story I was telling him about reaching across the table during French dinners, he said, "Accepted," and gave me my passport back. Phew.
All the students and professors met up to get our luggage and make our last goodbyes (mostly in French). My family was there to pick me up! I wish I could have told them how much I missed them. They were so patient as I tried to translate from French what I wanted to say. We met my grandparents, aunt, and uncle for dinner, and conversation was a little easier. I had eaten a small portion of my salad when I realized everyone else had finished. Man, we eat quickly here.
It was wonderful and bizarre to be home. First, I was afraid of my Labs when I first saw them. THEY'RE HUGE! Walking into my bedroom was strange. I had been so far and done so much, but my room hadn't changed at all. The rest of the evening was great; my mom and I sat in my room going through all the treasures I had brought back. I had almost an entire suitcase for the cookies I had!
I wore shoes in the house for the first few days. The French always have shoes on in the house, and I didn't like how my carpet felt on my feet. I didn't eat much the first few days back; my stomach was angry every time I tried to give it too many preservatives or too much sugar. Now I'm all over the cheeseburgers and brownies. I missed those.
I've stayed in touch with lots of students from my group. Maybe next week I'll get together with some girls to make macaroons! I've also stayed in touch with my family in Brittany. I'm hoping to study abroad in college, maybe back to France. I would love to see them again!! Until then, we will continue to send letters and Facebook messages.
This summer was the best and hardest experience of my life. I didn't expect to work so hard and have my heart grow to love so many people. The heartache for France is much stronger than I anticipated. knew we had a lot of homework and I would often be up late studying, but until I had time here to rest, I didn't realize how much material we raced through.
Thank you all so much for supporting me throughout my time in France. I cannot express how much your letters meant to me. They got me through this summer!! And thank you to everyone who kept up with this blog. I loved sharing my thoughts and experiences with you, and I hope you enjoyed it too!
Love, Kate
