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Making moves, taking chances, and enjoying what life brings me along the way.

23.7.12

Problems Come and Problems Go

I suppose I can no longer cheat you all with pretending that I am still frolicking around in France. In fact, it would be rude and dishonest to not confess the truth to my faithful readers out there.

It really has not dawned on me that I have been back in the USA for almost two weeks. I am not sure if I have just grown immune to what has been going on or if I am mentally and emotionally already moving on towards a new life challenge. As a friend of mine put it, if I were to have cried every time I received some sort of new information about my situation in Lyon, my eyeballs would have already popped out of my head. Indeed, the last time I cried was at the American Consulate over a month ago. I sobbed the entirety of my two hour meeting (well, once they finally had the guts to stop lying about being there for me.) In essence, they claimed that they would do absolutely nothing for me if I were put into prison for staying in France to fight for my rights. I find it quite ironic how we are brought up to believe that we should always fight for what we believe in, yet when we do that, no one seems to care unless there is money involved behind the scenes or a life (more so multiple lives) at risk. 

In any case, I am not asking for your empathy. What is done, is done. So I keep strong on the outside and replay Steve Job's graduation speech at Stanford University hoping that this past dot is leading to an even better future me. Who knows maybe all of the technical, complex French I learned through all of the letters I received from the Direction du Travail, Préfècture, Tribunal, other lawyers, and judges will come into play later down in the line when I am an International Law lawyer. Or perhaps it will push me to fight for foreigner rights in my own country. Who knows what life has in store for me.

Until then I can only laugh at the fact that I had two police officers with me at all times in the airport. They refused to hand over my passport until I was buckled into my seat. (And the damn seat belt sign was not even on yet.)  However, I absolutely cannot take it for granted that I cut all of the lines for check-in, baggage drop, security, AND was the first (escorted) person onto my plane out of France. It still seems all so surreal that this was my life. That I was kicked out of a country I love as much as my own and treated like a criminal when I did absolutely nothing wrong. But, life goes on and when one door closes another opens, and all that optimist jazz.

Ultimately, I want to thank all of you who have supported my move to France, who have kept in contact despite the time differences and distances, who have cared about my life abroad, and most of all who have bothered to take five minutes out of their lives to read what I have written on this blog. Without you I would have never bothered to keep this thing going. I know that there are millions of blogs out there in the mysterious internet galaxy about teach abroad experiences, daily life happenings, traveling, food, and happiness, but thank you for reading MINE! I feel BLESSED to know that you have followed me around France, England, Ireland, Germany, Switzerland, Italy, Sweden, Denmark, Morocco, and Tunisia the past two years.

So where do you come back into the picture dearest reader? Well, I've got a two part plan. I suppose you could take a gander that I don't give up. Everything is all in the making/editing/figuring out phase but at least I am putting you first in my plan right?

For my English speakers, I will be doing more of an opinion section and I am up for any and all comments, big, small, ridiculous, or controversial. Please sign up to leave your thoughts.

For my French speakers, I will be writing to you in French (please correct my grammatical mistakes), showing you America from an authentic American point of view. The reality, not the media provoked bullshit you are used to seeing on your television sets and iPhones.

So that's that. Until next time, un grand merci to all who continue to support me through this journey. And please do not leave without listening to this lovely band: click here.
Bisous,
La Petite Pamplemousse

1.7.12

Growing Old Is Getting Old


I've always loved this song by Silversun Pickups. The guitar is dreamy in the beginning and badass at the end, the bass consistent and reassuring, and the lyrics just perfectly written. I think the slow crescendo is what really grabs my attention.

It's funny how certain songs bring back certain memories, or even more so how you fall in love with a song and you don't really know why until something happens to you that resembles what is told in the lyrics. It's quite an interesting genre of art, music. It really determines a whole heck of a lot in terms of our happiness. I feel like we don't really take the time to think about what we listen to these days and it's a shame because there are some really talented people out there who are shining behind the multi millionaires who control the industry. Anyways....

These past few weeks I've been listening to a ton of old music that is just starting to make sense in my life. Some examples:

  • Ambling Alp - Yeasayer
  • The End Has A Start- The Editors
  • Float On - Modest Mouse
  • Ramble On - Led Zeppelin
  • Lost - Coldplay
  • Slide Show- T.I. and John Legend
In essence, this past year has been a hard one. I don't think I've ever faced more dilemmas, more drama, more heartache than at the age of 23. My patience has been tested, my love for the little things in life has gotten me through each day, and my blind faith in fate has pushed me to keep strong. I am not at all who I was when I first came to France almost 2 years ago. However, instead of dwelling on specifics about my past, I'd rather look forward and keep my mind full of hope and determination. I will keep my head up because 24 started out wonderful. I saw Mont Blanc for the first time from Lyon (up at the top of the Fourvière.) I sat there just taking in the beauty of the city, the contrast of red roofs and white snow, the  blinding sunlight. Maybe I'm crazy, maybe I've lost any and all common sense (you can't really blame me, I've always been book smart, not street smart), or maybe I have just gotten too wrapped up in the romantic lifestyle here in France. But if one thing is for sure, Florence Welsh has got it right: "It's always darkest before the dawn."



Mont Blanc!

Mont Blanc

My life


What a beauty
To make my birthday week even better, I had my belly dance recital on Sunday. Last year I was so nervous! This year the only thing i was nervous about was splitting my pants when I had to throw myself to the floor at the end of the second dance. I'm not one to brag, but I'm pretty damn proud of myself. I've come a long long way. I haven't danced since I was 8 and back then i did jazz, tap, and ballet. Definitely not the same as belly dancing! And of course i have to mention that during my very first dance recital I decided to sit down in the middle of the stage I was so scared. So as my Mom puts it, "You've come a long way. Sitting in a lobster costume and barely moving your claws to "Under the Sea" to dancing half naked in front of 600 people."

You can watch the videos here (right click for the first dance) and here (for the second dance). (They were taped by my friend's boyfriend so there are a couple parts where he does close-ups on her).

My belly dancers (Beginner's class)
My past two weeks in Lyon have been very hectic as I'm still trying to fight the French government for my paperwork. Yep, 10 months later and the battle is still going on; BUT, I won't give up! Tuesday afternoon I took a breather from the chaos and headed to my French "family's" house in Chalon-sur-Saone. I enjoyed the countryside, home cooked meals, and company of my adopted French parents, Remy and Marie-Line (you might remember them from last december when they rescued me from getting stuck in France during the snow storm).

Yesterday my friend Catherine invited me and two other friends to her house in Trévoux. She made us a wonderful lunch and we managed to eat this whole pie!
Catherine's Chocolate Pear Pie!
After lunch we headed into the town center to check out the old Parliament house (now the tax office and local court house). Inside the court room there were beautiful frescoes from the 1600s. As always, I was amazed by the ancient artwork. 

The dash slanted in this direction announces the legitimacy of Francois I's son.

After the French Revolution, these three flags were painted over the original violent scene.




                                       
                                                 Trévoux
Left side for the donkeys, right side for pedestrians.


Old contraption once used to dig up diamonds!
We stopped for ice cream and then headed off into the Beaujolais. What a wonderful (but hot) day to drive through the vineyards and red-stoned villages. During our drive we stopped at Oignt, home of Louis Pradel (the old mayor of Lyon). Apparently Mr. Pradel ordered for the rose gardens at the Parc de la Tete d'Or in memory of his hometown. He also created the Fourvière tunnel to prevent traffic jams (and become more welcoming to out of town visitors). Not sure if seeing 4 weddings in one day is a sign either, but it sure was a beautiful day for those newlyweds.


Ahh, la campagne :)


Old Medieval washing area (below the fence)






Ah simplicity
All in all, a wonderful start to a new year and a new me. If all goes well you will be able to continue tracking my adventures on this blog. A more philosophical post up next...

Keep dry in this rain and keep those spirits high because the dog days are over....well at least for the next 2 days here in Lyon.