Ever Fallen In Love (With a Landscape)?

À table! It's time for a ton of food for thought, or rather an endless stream of thoughts coming out of my head that may or may not move you to think. It all depends on the caffeine level in your bloodstreams. First issue of business: Where is my life going? This is the last week of school for majority of the other Lyon assistants, thus goodbyes are already in arms length and I don't like the thought of it. It's incredible that 7 months have already passed us by here. Although I've been searching for jobs every chance I get, I'm still in the slow French mode and I think that's just fine for now. I'm appreciating more than I ever thought I would about the little things. Like how I bought my first watermelon of the season and was smiling as I carried the heavy thing 5 blocks back to my apartment. Or how I can watch the sunset on my walk back home from the gym. Or how green all of the leaves are and how the grass now has to be cut every week because everything is alive and happy again. Or how my students got perfect scores on their last quiz. In short, I love life despite the unknown future hovering in front of me like a bone on a string (in which case, I'm the dog). The unorganized manner of things isn't as horrific as I once thought; you just have to take a second and dwell on what's going well rather than stress over what you don't know. And if you think someone has it better than you, read this beautiful thought from Tarun J. Tejpal's novel, The Alchemy of Desire:
"We delude ourselves about the neatness of life. The truth is no life is neat. Those we see-and those we read about-seem to possess neatness only because we know so little about them. The hidden sprawl behind the face at the door is always vast. Every life is beset by its unseen demons-avarice, jealousy, deceit, lust, violence, paranoia.

There is no neatness in any life-great or small. It is only an illusion men foolishly pursue. The face at the door is just that-the face at the door.

All lived lives are a mess" (pg 304)

Now onto my adventures in Normandy. I took the TGV to Paris and then swapped trains to get to Rouen. My luck with transportation here in France is nonexistent. The first train had issues with the doors so we were running 15 minutes late, which meant that I was trying to maneuver myself through the metro labyrinth with 10 minutes left to get to the other station. The first thing I thought in the Paris metro: It's dirty, smelly, dark, and crowded. Second thing: I love Lyon. Third thing: Hopefully a legitimate trip to Paris will erase my biased attitude, but I have a feeling it will leave the same mark as NYC, and that's not a good thing. I missed that train by literally ONE MINUTE. I went to the ticket office and asked the lady at the help desk what to do. She responded to me in broken English. From what I gathered, I could just get on the next train, no big deal. It seemed too easy to be true, and that's when I realized she was speaking to me in English. At thiscan't really differentiate the difference. I flip between the two so frequently at school that my brain doesn't really register anymore that it's a different language; I just somehow know how to respond. Oh hell no, I thought. We aren't playing this game. I responded in French, I have no idea what you just said. Can I use this ticket or do I have to exchange it for a new time? Her face flushed crimson and she excused herself. That's right France, I speak motherflippin' French. Let's keep it that way shall we?

Once I got into Rouen, Matt found me and we were off to drop our stuff at the hotel. The famous Normandy clouds were over our heads as we walked through town. Once we found the place, we were off to find a quick bite to eat before our concert started...that is only until we realized it was 7:30 and everything was closing. We managed to find a Monoprix just in time. Pasta boxes in hand, we walked across the Seine River to the venue. We bought our tickets thinking we'd hear the beautiful Amelie soundtrack. We were afraid we might even fall asleep during the concert. Oh how completely opposite it turned out to be. Yann Tiersen's band produced a melange of sounds that reminded me of The Flaming Lips, U2, and Sufjan Stevens all in one night. It was bizarre and beautiful and unexpected. It made me think of how I saw France the week before I came over; what I expected to do, who I expected to meet, how I thought I'd change, etc. Again, so different from reality.

The band

Boy does he know how to break the bow hair!

<3

After the concert, we went out with Matt's British teaching assistant friends who were all leaving the next day or sometime this week. It was a bittersweet round of drinks, and it really hit me again that my time is slowly coming to an end and I'm not really too thrilled about it. Sure, I want to go home and have a proper BBQ (there's the British English rubbing off on me), drive my car, see the US flag everywhere, go to the supermarket at any hour I damn please, etc. But at the same time, the weather is just starting to get nice and I'm really not done exploring who I am or what I really want in life.

The next morning we were supposed to go to Dieppe early in the morning, but the gray clouds and late night provoked us to sleep in until 9. We decided to stay around Rouen for the day since the weather would most likely ruin the views from the seaside cliffs. I saw more Gothic cathedrals here than I would ever imagine and although majority of them aren't in actual religious use anymore, you can imagine how the people back then really believed that their ceilings could reach God. I found that the most impressive ceilings were in the now cathedral turned art exhibition, Cathedrale de Saint-Maclou. I gawked around the empty halls, trying to capture a mental photograph since the physical one below doesn't do any justice. We also stepped into the Cathedrale Notre-Dame de Rouen. They were in the middle of cleaning the outside and repairing broken, withering statues when I went. It was amazing to see how dirty it was before and after. Furthermore, how it continues to stand in one piece since parts of it were built back in the 4th century. Fun fact: It was the tallest building in the world, from 1876-1880. It contains the heart of Richard the Lionheart as well as the remains of his ancestor, Rollo, the founder and leader of the Viking tribe who came to claim the area as Normandy. We also went to the remaining tower of the castle where Joan of Arc was held before being burnt alive. The man who worked there let us in on a secret: the tower named Tour Jeanne D'Arc was the main tower, but not the one she was held in for six months, contrary to popular belief. The castle was built by Phillippe-Auguste in 1204. After a devastating fire and other additional destruction during Crusades, the orders came to demolish the castle.

Richard the Lion Heart

Jesus, yo.

Saint statues which are waiting to be replaced/copied.

Main Tower (Tour Jeanne D'arc)

Spot where Joan of Arc was burned alive for leading the fight against England (to reclaim France).

Churches galore!

Echo, Echo (Cathedral de Saint Maclou)

So amazing

Stereotypical pétanques game

Famous Rouen ceramics in a fayencerie window (with the Mason symbol).

Gros Horloge (Astronomical clock from the 14th century

On Sunday, we headed to Claude Monet's house in Giverny. We decided to try it, despite hearing that we could only get there by car. We took the train to Vernon and walked 3 miles on a hidden bike/jogging path. The sun was out and once we finally arrived, we were so happy. The gardens were absolutely blissful. Every color imaginable, every amazing scent the nose could dream of, every other tourist smiling. I was talking to Matt earlier about how crazy it is to think how a day trip now would take weeks back when there were carriages and horses, or let alone, just your two feet. I was saying how much of a shame that would be to never leave your own country, to never meet other types of people, to never experience other cultures. And then we walked around Giverny and that thought disappeared completely.

Castle remains on our walk through Vernon

I would love to buy this house, if anyone knows the owner....

Springtime

So beautiful

Purple and Gold represent!

Monet's famous lily pond

It was a wonderful weekend up North in Normandy. I have two more days of school left and my last vacation comes my way. I have so much I still want to do. Gotta do battle with the ticking of time. It's all so bittersweet. Another teacher, Marjorie, leaves us for maternity leave and that means more chaos with substitute teachers. On the other hand, I have something to look forward to, the English Field Day. I'm putting together a whole day for my kids and I cannot wait. Another adventure coming up this weekend so stay tuned! Bonne nuit XOXO