Send Me On My Way

It tends to rain before I move. I never really noticed the pattern until last night when I was sitting in the pouring rain, listening to Two Door Cinema Club and The Dø on the Roman ruins. I looked out onto the Lyon skyline, looked down at all of the people cheering and dancing, and thought to myself that I can't leave. This place is my home now.

Looking back on my life, it all makes sense, and maybe this misfortune chain of recent events leading to a loss in a perfect job happened for a reason. Every summer when I left Rehoboth it poured, when I left home for JMU it rained so much 81 was flooded, when I left JMU for good it thunderstormed the night before...I know I tend to over-analyze majority of things, but this is just too weird. The only time it didn't rain was before I moved to France....

I'm not really sure what to think anymore. I was really upset earlier this weekend, but now I just feel empty. Everything was planned out perfectly. I kept thinking on my vacation how excited I was to go home for a bit and come back to this wonderful life. I had a job doing what I liked, I could continue with all my new hobbies here in Lyon, I would have all my Lyon friends coming back the same, I could keep working on my French and apply for a Masters, I could stay in the same apartment with my Bulgarian sister, so on and so forth. But Americans have to go through so much more paperwork to stay in Europe and my boss is not willing to do this after signing a contract with me. Too much effort to have me as her new Pre-K English teacher. So after changing everything for this opportunity, I have to pack up my bags and go home for good. Of course, I've already bought a one way ticket back to Lyon, so I have to come back to get the remainder of my stuff, but I can't bear the thought of coming back just to pick up my material possessions. I feel like I just went through a bad break up.  I have one last chance tomorrow morning to try the prefecture. Come on angels, help me out here.

Until then, I'll try my hardest to put my big girl pants on and trudge through this, dancing around my room as I pack, thinking about every amazing person I have met along the way here in this beautiful country, reminding myself of all the breathtaking places I was able to see, and loving every second I spent here in this city I will forever call my home.

It's gonna be, whatever it is.
Until the next chaper,
La petite pamplemousse

Summertime, Time, Time, Child, the Living's Easy

After much deliberation, I decided to go on vacation after failing to get a visa appointment here in Lyon. I booked an appointment at home (thinking it'd be much easier there), packed my bags, and went to explore the South. My first stop was Marseille. Although I have previously blogged about this city on the sea, it's worth mentioning a final time. Maybe « Third time's a charm » really is applicable sometimes in life. I tend to only go back to places and people when I really love them...

My first impression of Marseille back in 2004 was heaven on earth. I was on an exchange program with my high school in July, I had just read The Count of Monte Cristo, and I was able to stand where a large portion of the novel takes place, the Château D'if. I was meeting new people, it was my first trip outside of the USA, I was young, and I was in love with everything. Seven years later, I returned to Marseille to visit my high school exchange friend, Julie. We spent a weekend catching up in person, laughing about our old high school ways, and discussing our future plans. The second visit to Marseille was cold and rainy, instantly putting a damper on my past vision of the city. I noticed the trash left next to the overfilled dumpsters (this was during the strikes mind you), the monstrous amount of pigeons thrusting their necks around, and the aggravated drivers honking their horns every five seconds. I instantly thought choosing Lyon as my new home was for the best. This time, I headed down to visit two friends, Selim and Anthony. I left Lyon in the pouring rain and the clouds followed me  They showed me the Palais Longchamp, the Notre-Dame de la Garde, and we walked up and down the beach. Although the rain came and went throughout the afternoon, I was just happy to see new things and have fun. Selim instantly picked up on my embarrassment to take pictures in a big city and stole my camera, starting a photo shoot of hilarious pictures. I'm not really sure why I get that way, perhaps the possibility of someone stealing something while I'm focused on capturing the view, or perhaps it just feels more intimate in smaller, quieter towns. Like I only have the right to take pictures when no one else is around.

Storm's a comin!

Palais Longchamp, home of the Natural History and Art Museums in Marseille

Notre-Dame de la Garde

Inside

The next day we headed to Eyguères, a small town near Avignon, to watch the bulls run for July 14^th, France's national holiday. There I met a bunch of Selim's friends from Judo, all of whom instantly welcomed me into their close-knit group. One of the many ways in which Southern France beats Lyon is the extreme friendliness of everyone. I guess you could say the same thing about the USA. I always missed people saying hi to me (no matter if I knew them or not), holding the doors when you're halfway across the street, welcoming you into their party, and so on when I went home to Philly from Harrisonburg. We began to sing along to the bar music, playing the most ridiculous games, exchanging stories, and just living life. By far the best afternoon all summer long. I felt at home in a place I had never visited with people I had just met hours earlier.

The following morning I moved on to Toulon to begin my couchsurfing. There I was greeted by a lovely French grandmother who cooked me an amazing lunch, spilled out her life story, and went with me to the beach (She was the one who dared to go swimming in the freezing water, not me.) She had married her husband at the ripe age of 23 (thanks for the pressure, Madame), got divorced about 8 years ago, went through a terrible depression, traveling around Northern Africa to get rid of it, and now they are dating again. « C'est la vie, » she said, grinning. Toulon is a huge Navy town on the coast of France. It was from Toulon that France sent ships out to conquer Algeria in 1820. Marie-José was actually born in Algeria and a large majority of her stories had to deal with the transformation she and her birth country went through during her childhood. We went to a free jazz concert at night dancing the night away to an amazing organist from none other than N'awlins. The following morning I took a boat tour of the harbor (one of the largest in Europe) and learned all about the French Navy and local history. Overall, another amazing experience because of a wonderful host who taught me that it's never too late to learn how to sail, travel alone to a foreign country, or fall in love.

French beach=tons of pebbles!

Sunset on the docks

Napoleon wanted this Opera House to look exactly like the one in Paris.

The third stop on my trip was Fréjus. My couchsurfing host here had recently sprained his ankle so he was able to take me around everywhere since he didn't have to work. We first got a drink at a small port in St. Raphaël where the wind would not stop blowing things away. Then we went to a restaurant on the beach where some of his friends lived. Again, I felt at home. It was like I was in Rehoboth but everyone was speaking French. All of the locals were joking around, the owner would go over to the open kitchen turn up whatever song was playing and sing and dance about, the servers all came over to say hello and give me kisses as if I too lived there year round. I could not stop laughing and smiling. The sunset was amazing and I kept thinking how lucky I was to be able to visit such a beautiful place. The next morning, my host, Frédéric, took me to the local Roman ruins. We also took a tour of his town, discussing the recent loss of his father. Between Marie-José and Frederic, I learned more life lessons in two days than I did the past year. As Frederic said, « It's better let life go with a smile, acknowledging that you've done all you've ever wanted to do, than to be sad because it's over. »  We went back to the restaurant since it began to rain and then as it cleared up we went to climb the Cap de Roux. Another wonderful day with amazing views on life, nature, and happiness.

I want 3 little French babies like this! So cute

This used to be an aqueduct, transporting water up and down the area!

Something about vines climbing up old French homes makes me smile

"Two roads diverged in a wood, and I--
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference."-Robert Frost

Beautiful rocks

Sunset from Frédéric's apartment

The following day I was supposed to move onto Grasse and Nice but the hostels were too expensive. I didn't realize that if you booked a 4 bed room you had to pay for all 4 people. It's too bad my friends have all gone home. Not quite ready to head back to Lyon and still wanting to hang out with fun people, I called up Selim and was back to Marseille. Selim's friend was visiting from Grenoble, so he was going to be exploring tourist attractions anyways. We headed to Aix-en-Provence for the afternoon, exploring the town by following Cezanne's history. We stopped for drinks, taking in the afternoon sun and hanging out with more of Selim's friends, Vincent and Amy. The next morning we headed to the Calanques. I think that living next to the Shenandoah Mountains for four years really taught me how to love climbing and walking through nature. The views were spectacular with the contrasting colors of the gray rocks, turquoise ocean, and lime green bushes. Of course the idiot I am, I didn't think to put my bathing suit on before our trip. I waded up to my thighs nonetheless in the frigid waters. I tried to make fajitas for the boys in repayment for allowing me to stay last minute, but of course France lacks most of the necessary ingredients. I promised Selim he'd get his fair share of Mexican food when he moves to the USA in a few weeks. Finally the next day we met up with Anthony again and headed to his grandparent's camping site. We had a typical French BBQ (yummy Merguez), headed to the pool for a bit, and tried to set up our tent. As we laid out this bubble wrap sort of tarp, I found a ton of snails hanging out. I was surprised no one wanted to cook them (bad joke, wamp wamp wamp). That night we headed to another beach town, Bandol, where we walked along the night market, ate sandwiches and ice cream, and enjoyed the free, but not so wonderful karaoke. Every time I went to sing along, they either changed the lyrics or moved on to another Michael Jackson song. Oh France! The following day, Anthony's grand-mom made us this wonderful soup. They were surprised I liked it (not sure why I wouldn't, it's French food after all!). Some sort of basil, garlic, elbow macaroni deliciousness. We did absolutely nothing all day but sleep and eat. They were teasing me because I wanted to go do something, the antsy northerner! That night I headed back to Lyon, welcomed by the rain once again.

 

Canary yellow houses in Aix-en-Provence

I love French squares.

Breathtaking!

Baby beach amidst the rocks

My Mercury's In Retrograde

Well, not really. My horoscope actually claims that I should be having the time of my life with new love interests, fun times, and prosperous work projects. The past week has proved to be quite the opposite.

My first week of vacation was spent searching for a new job: sending out emails, calling businesses, editing my resume, and writing letters to any work I could find in relation to my major or past experience. My head killed, my legs wanted to run far far away from my problems, and my lack of social interaction (all my Lyon friends are gone now) made me one delightful person.

Friday brought good news: a job offer in an international multilingual school. I was estactic, that is until I realized the next hoop I have to jump through in order to stay another year in France: the visa renewal process. You would think it would be quite simple. I have a valid passport and visa, I have a job contract, and I have all of the necessary documentation, as stated on the website. All I have to do is go to the préfecture and get in line to get a ticket to be able to talk to a representative. Sounds like the deli counter you say? Yes, it does. The only difference is that it takes 10 seconds to get a ticket to order your cheese and meat, whereas here in France, it takes, oh you know, all morning. I arrived at 7:45, thinking that being a little more than an hour in advance would suffice. I got the bus, then the metro, crossed over the bridge and walked with high hopes that I could get everything done in one day so that I could FINALLY go on the vacation I planned to start on July 5^th. Once I made it to the street corner, my mouth dropped. OH MY GOD, Zane was right, I though. This is exactly like a new Ipad launch. I made my way to the end of the line, a half of a block away from the doors, and immediately became antsy. People were pushing to cut the line, yelling in all sorts of foreign languages, and one lady even dumped her water bottle on another person for giving her trouble. At 9 am the doors opened, at 9:20 they closed for the day. I waited in line with a bunch of persistent people, hoping and praying they would re-open in an hour or so. The police came to action in an attempt to break up the people who didn't get a ticket and make them go home. Their response to the protests, « It's normal to wait like this. Get here earlier tomorrow. »

I decided to go back later to double check that I really did have all of the necessary documentation. Tania had told me that when she went, what was published online, was not the same as what they actually asked for in the office. I barely was able to get out my first sentence when the man cuts me off, « It's over today. I can't help you. We don't have anything. You have to come back tomorrow. Bye, have a good day. » Asshole, I muttered to myself. How are you supposed to get anything in this damn country.

Afterwards, I accompanied Tania as she went to hand out resumes for a new part-time job. She previously worked for McDonalds. They gave her a week of vacation around the same time that school ended. When she went back the following week for her schedule, they said she didn't have any shifts because she was missing paperwork. Paperwork for what? Well, first they claimed it was renewal paperwork. She went back multiple times every week to make sure everything went through and was ready to go.  And every time she came back home frustrated because the secretary had screwed something up, either forgetting to send a document or call someone to check on what was actually missing. Today, she went back once again to find out that actually she's been working illegally the past year because they never filed her paperwork LAST YEAR. Not sure how they can pay her in checks illegally, but that's the excuse for this week. Furthermore, she found out that the local director of the Department of Labor came to McDonalds last week, solely for her paperwork, and McDonalds failed to contact Tania. Now, the Department of Labor is closed to the public and she has lost yet another week of her time and money. Finally, while walking around, a lot of the employers we approached gave us bizarre looks. « So, you're French or Bulgarian? » « Bulgarian but I've lived in France the past 2 years. » « Sorry, the job isn't available. » I've never been one to accept stereotypes but France is really starting to make me reconsider this with their oh so obvious discrimination against foreigners. To anyone who's ever been discriminated against in the USA, I am sorry on behalf of my country.

Today I woke up and was at the préfecture at the advised time of 5 am. I was a lot closer to the doors this time, but apparently not close enough. Je peux plus France, je peux plus. I can't take it anymore!

Within those four wasted hours, I was able to make friends with the people around me. The lady behind me was from Senegal (and had a beautiful accent when she spoke French), the man and his mother in front of me came from Tunisia, and the lady next to me was from Russia. Mothers pushed their babies up and down the street, elderly couples took turns waiting in line so one could rest their feet, and police cars drove down the street every so often to check up on us. I attempted to test my Arabic as I listened to the men next to me(I remembered my numbers and a few key words but not much more unfortunately), listened to my Ipod until the battery died, and stared at the skyline wondering why I was even doing this. It was a long four hours. What got under my skin the most? When people on their way to work either stared us down like animals in a zoo, or avoided our eye contact completely as if we were going to give them the foreigner disease. The Philly attitude boiled deep in my blood and I was tempted to shake them and yell. We are the same as you; it's your damn government that makes us stand out here at all ours of the day because they can't be bothered to get their shit organized and make an online reservation system. It baffles me that local French people call this normal; I mean, don't you get fed up too? I know you're all used to the slow pace, but seriously! It's disgraceful to make over 400 people fight for 100 tickets. I essentially waited 4 hours to be told that ACTUALLY you need to sleep on the motherflippin' street to get a ticket to even be considered for the day. « Like dogs, » my one neighbor yelled back. Indeed my friend, they treat us like dogs. The same man from yesterday came to take apart the barriers and once again ignored any and all questions fired at him. Some people must just enjoy ruining everyone's day.

I have the oh so slightest feeling that whenever I get inside the building, I will continue to get hassled because my French isn't good enough or my accent is hard to understand.

I think my rant has gone on long enough for all you out there. Thanks for letting me take out my anger. And here's to all who waited in line with me the past two days. God Bless you all.

I miss you, USA!

Happy 4th of July to all of my friends and family at home. I miss you all so so very much and it kills me to not be at the BBQS and fireworks this year. Have a ton of fun, play some baseball, and God Bless America!

XOXOXOOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOXOX
From your favorite American halfway across the world.