Home

I've been home for a whirlwind of 10 days.

In those 10 days these important things happened:

Painting (at odd hours of the morning--thank you jet lag)
and moving into my condo

Cartel Coffee--repeat many times

A 1920s themed get-together

A 3-day trip to Long Beach

Beans and tortillas at the best Mexican place in town

115 degree heat
113 degree heat
116 degree heat

^Biking in said weather^

And seeing many familiar faces

Feels like Phoenix.

Marché

I think one of the biggest compliments someone gave me was calling me

A farmer's market girl--

I'm pretty sure I was radiant.

It's true. I love open air, live markets where you can actually buy food that is barcode free and tastes real from people who remember your face and thankfully, here, they happen everyday.

Yes, everyday.

Some days, I want to pull up a chair and simply watch.

Today there was a mess of people between the 2 markets in adjacent plazas and amidst the mass crowd, vendor booths overflowed with "solde" items, and musicians played on street corners.


All on the same street, the size of one lane--if that.

For me, being here as obviously a foreigner, the market has given me a sense of a foundation--
a place where I feel "at home".

By now, I've cultivated a couple relationships with various vendors:

I buy olives from a man who perpetually whistles a delightful tune and always asks "Comment ça va?"

I'm teased by a vendor for wearing my green beret in the middle of summer.

A couple, whom run a organic farm, sneaks "extra" goodies into my sack like fresh figs and green plums. I think this is their way of insuring that I come back for more--

It works.

I ran into Ashmi (another vendor) during the National Holiday and was greeted with a standard 2-kiss greeting and felt utterly "known" and a sense of belonging.

I'm certainly not ready to leave this "home" and

Goodbyes are hard.

Returning

Are you eating?

Shortly after I moved to Aix, I called my parents to tell them, "just in case they were worried about me" that everything was fine and I had successfully secured a roof over my head. My father's next question was something like this:

Are you eating?

Yes, I've been eating.

Very, very well.

Bordeaux and Arcachon

This past week, I spent a couple days touring Bordeaux with a dear friend from Tempe who spent a portion of his childhood summers playing among the winding streets, riding his grandfather's bike, and getting lost himself.

I'm already trying to calculate the maximum number of bottles I can bring back

From Bordeaux we rode the train to Arcachon, where a friend of his lives and we spent the next two days on the beach, watching storms roll in on the horizon, and took a couple tours on the boat. Not to mention amazing dinners at some wonderful restaurants.

L'été

 

Summer has arrived and thus many shops are closed. 

 

Fermé.

For weeks.

Or months. 

If one works 35 hours a week in France, it is mandatory to take 5 weeks vacation every year.

Mandatory

No ifs, ands, or buts. 

Claquer

Slamming doors.

They will stay in France

Every last one of them.

My apartment has these wind tunnel traps:
If I have my balcony doors open as well as the kitchen balcony doors, my door slams shut.

CLACK!!

I think this is one of the first verbs I learned:

claquer-to "clack" or bang

aka: the sound that literally makes you jump in your seat,

catch your breath,
and makes your heart stop

All at the same time.

Chez Moi

Welcome!

I've been living in this apartment for 1.5 months and over this course of time there have been some things that I've come to love and others that remind me of things I'm excited for in Phoenix.

I love that I have doors in my room that open up to the balcony where I can sit in the sunshine and read and where our laundry hangs to dry. Most nights I sleep with the door open, which then leads me to chasing mosquitoes around my room at odd hours in the morning.

I will certainly not miss these pesky, blood-sucking insects.

The laundry cycle of 2 hours and 36 minutes has certainly taken some getting used to, but the fact that I'm forced to hang dry my clothes rather than depend on the convenience of a dryer gives me an excuse to be outside.

I love the gas stove. Love.

And on the other hand, I'm so looking forward to returning to my knives, non-pliable silverware, and an actually "set" of dishes.



This bathroom design: having the toilet separate from the shower, is I believe, God's gift to siblings. I can recall countless times while sharing a bathroom with my brothers where someone needed to use the toilet at the precise moment while someone was occupying the shower, or vice versa. The countless arguments and pounding on doors that could have been easily avoided.

Meet my shower. Although I appreciate the water that has been conserved and the time that has been saved, I will thoroughly enjoy showering when I can stand up and have both hands free.

Musique

Musicians throughout the streets.

Everyday.

Somewhere.

The adventure is finding them.

Français

Bank deposit receipt

If you want to feel like you can do anything
and that the world is possible,

Learn a new language.

It's nowhere close to easy.
Promise.
But the amount of reward and self-satisfaction is beyond worth.

One thing that I've come to appreciate over the summer is the overwhelming sense of joy
when I "successfully" communicate or do a simple errand in French.

Some streets of Aix have even seen full-out happy dances

Everything about this "new" language seems a little awkward and very unknown
so I constantly operate in an unfamiliar realm,
which I feel has made me more likely to do or try things that otherwise would be undiscovered.

I've quickly learned that although there are little triumphs,
there are grave errors.

Many of them.
Over and over
again.

ex: faim et femme

And in the midst of humility, I've learned laughter.

Here's another example:
I discovered this nice little container on my first solo trip to the grocery store.

At first glance this appeared to be yoghurt--

take a close look at the white creamy stuff in the spoon and tell me that doesn't remind you of yohurt

It's not.

After eating quite a few and realizing that this wasn't exactly yoghurt, I turned to trust 'ld Wikipedia to uncover exactly what "fromage frais" was---

It's similar to cream cheese.

I still laugh, especially when I continue to eat it for breakfast
like this morning

Counting

Counting.

The things I will dearly miss

and the things I will be happy to leave in France.

The excitements of coming "home"

and the sadness of leaving a new found love.

When I left, I wrote about being a "rooted tree"
and in so many ways I feel like I'm straddling the collision of two worlds,

yet again.

This marks the downward spiral of packing and moving,
just as I feel like I'm finally "settled".

Am I ready?

I've not a clue

Presqu'île de Giens

My friend, Vanessa, kindly invited me to spend the week with her family at their home on the Presqu'île de Giens,

No, this was not terrible at all

It was nice to be around "family" dynamics

but it also made me miss and long for my family and community at home

The countdown begins

Faim and Femme

French 101:

Femme--"fem": Woman

Faim--"fay": Hunger

French has this tricky rule about not pronouncing the last letter of words,

but as my roommate says,

C'est l'exception qui confirme la règle

It's the exception that proves the rule

Alors, I thought that "faim" was one of those exceptions--that maybe I should pronounce the "m"--

Alas, it is not.

Lesson learned.

I was talking with Michel, a jewelry vendor, today about my studies and when he asked what I wanted to do with my degree.

*I get this question a lot

I started talking about world "faim" and working for a non-governmental organization.

When he cocked his head to one side with a very quizzical, confused look on his face, I knew I was pronouncing something terribly wrong. I've seen the face many times before--it's part of the language learning process.

I repeated myself--saying "faim" like "fem".

Another quizzical look.

When I was in Spanish classes in highschool, my teacher taught us to circumvent around a word we didn't know and describe what we were trying to say in another manner. Extremely useful when trying to learn a new language.

So, I tried again, instead trying to say something along the lines of "someone eats because they are hungry"--insert circular motions on my stomach and other various descriptions.

After another very puzzled look, I finally wrote down this word I was so desperately trying to say,

Michel just laughed.

Completely convinced I said "someone eats because they have woman", "I have woman", and "eat woman" in approximately 6 various form before realizing my grave mistake,

I couldn't help but laugh as well.

I want some Emily Bayless!

Meet my friend

Emily Bayless


Not only is she smart, sassy, and funny
She's extremely talented and makes awesome ceramic work.

In fact she was asked to be a part of a post-bachelor program in Long Beach

where she will move in a couple of weeks.

Before she moves she wants to sell some of her functional work here

You should check it out

Plus, how can you say "no" to a face like this?

La Journée

Everyday, my roommates ask "So, what did you do today?" as my days seem to be filled with leisure and theirs work.

Alors, here is my "average" day:

First a nice morning trip to the market, where I try to arrive before the tourists other people. If I arrive early enough it allows me more time to chat with some of my "regular" vendors and avoid the massive crowds.


This is usually followed by un café in the Palais de Justice where I sit for a bit and try to read the newspaper, which ends up looking like this after a while:


Until a few days ago, I was able to grab a free paper on the way to the market. I then started having difficulty finding this particular paper, and after 2 days it proceeded to turn into a full on scavenger hunt through the city for this newspaper (I really like this paper, plus it has a suduko puzzle). Alas, after many days of scouring everywhere, I resorted to searching on the internet. For whatever reason, the last issue printed was last week, which explains why I searched high and low with no avail. When I told my roommate, she just matter of factly said,

Well, it's summer.
They probably went on vacation.

Yes, the newspaper stops printing because it's summer
and invariably vacation time.

The rest of my day is usually spent doing a various French lesson/exercise after meandering through these gorgeous streets

They call me a "lady of leisure"

Fromage

Lots of it...

Aisles devoted to it...

And oh my goodness,

It's really, really

Delicious

Watch out for this one though:
It smells...
like dirty socks
like something slimy forgotten in the refrigerator

Hmm..how to adequately describe it's sheer potency

It is the lucky recipient of it's own air-tight container and whoever whoever eats it, does so in the kitchen with the door firmly shut.

But the stinkier the better

Confort

There are days that I miss Phoenix

And days I think I don't ever want to go back

I'm getting past the "honeymoon" phase of traveling
and into the reality where things seem less novel

So today I indulged in a few of my "comfort things"

Still working on the translation for comfort-food in French

It's funny the things you start to miss

I miss my glass jars

Thankfully, I visited a friend in Switzerland this week, where his aunt graciously bestowed to me

2
beautiful
glass
jars

Never underestimate the little things