Any Last Words?

It's been nearly a month since I left France.  It feels weird just typing that phrase.  Because at this point, it's hard for me to grasp that I was there at all.

When I stepped off the plane onto Canadian turf for the first time in over 10 months, there was this feeling of having come full-circle; of ending where I began.  Everything I had left behind came to greet me, unchanged.  And it was not a glorious re-entry into my old life.  There was no parade with blasting horns and dancing girls to celebrate my return.  Was that what I had been expecting?

Eh.  Maybe a little.  My imagination tends toward the eccentric.

I was expecting to be the shiny stone hurled into the pond of my former life.  Breaking the surface dramatically, sending ripples in all directions.  But life is not a pond, it's an ocean, and we are really much more like pebbles, trying to find our place and make an impact in the endlessness of it all.  This is a truth I find both terrible and inspirational.

I wanted to end this blog with a word of wisdom, a nugget of insight that might reward my readers in some miniscule degree for having followed me this far.  The best I can leave you with is this:

Life goes on. 

Not matter how bad or incredibly good a situation gets, no matter how far you manage to remove yourself from all you know, Life will find a way to move forward.  Move with it.  Don't try to beat it for time, and don't weigh yourself down to stay where you are, longer than you should.  Wear sunscreen.  Enjoy all you can, and endure all you must.  Reach out when others swirl by, Life is best weathered with friends.  It is also very short, so put little umbrellas in your drink whenever you get the chance.  Don't sweat the small stuff, but never let the little things pass you by. 

I might travel to Europe again, I might not.  I might have a kid that goes on her own exchange one day, I might not.  I might start another blog.  I might not.  But right now, none of that really matters.  Because all that ever matters, is right now.

With all my love and pixie dust,
Sarah B

Roll out the lazy, hazy, crazy days of summer. Dust off the sun and moon and sing a song of cheer. ~ Nat King Cole

Yes, summer is officially here, though as I write this rain buffets the window at my side.  Peu importe, I'm willing to wait out the sunshine!

I guess the most exciting thing that has occured recently is the termination of my career as a french student in 1ere L.  I did it!  I have survived a full school year in a foreign school system.  And while I wouldn't say I thrived, I finished the year with a decent GPA. More importantly, I met some people at les Cordeliers whom I shall truly miss upon my return, and who I feel will welcome me back if I ever got to travelling to France again.  I know I'd be happy to have them sometime in Canada!

But the arrival of my favorite season of the year is cause for celebration in itself.  So far I've visited a Texan friend, Manon, in Laval.  And I leave this Tuesday for Aurey to visit Finnish Riikka and German Gerda on my last trip out of Dinan before my ride to Paris, to catch my return plane home. 

I had not really thought about going home until late last night; it was then I realized: there are a mere 13 days left to me here in France.  I'm still having trouble wrapping my head around so small a number; how can 10 months melt down to 13 days so fast?!  Like butter in a microwave...

But it's a good thing I faced the reality of the situation now, because I still have a boatload of things to see to if I want to come home at all!  So that will probably be all my news for the recent future; when I'm not with friends saying goodbye, I'm packing suitcases and writing thank-you cards!

'Tis better to have loved and lost, then never to have loved at all ~ Alfred Lord Tennyson

How do you move on from the people that walked beside you as you learned a new language and braved a new world?  How do you say goodbye to the people you’ve shared the most important year of your life with?

I think you never say goodbye at all.

This weekend was the last Rotary Exchange Student reunion of my exchange year – an unmistakable sign that my adventure truly is winding down.  We kayaked and rock-climbed and swam fully-clothed in the lake because we didn’t have our bathing suits on.  We signed flags and notebooks and ate bread and slept shoulder to shoulder in sleeping bags on the hostel’s corridor floor, because it kept us closer for longer.  But as all things ultimately do, the weekend came to an end, and we have parted ways.  Leaving us all with that awful ache of loss.

But the pain we feel upon leaving those we care about is the acknowledgement of our love for them.  When the time comes that we may no longer take the relationship we have with one another for granted, it hurts.  But I feel they never really leave us.  People may go separate ways, but the love between them remains.  It is in this way that life teaches us to be strong, to be brave enough to give away our hearts, and to love fiercely and freely.  Even when it hurts.  With this demonstration of courage, we come to obtain a bond that may weather any storm and overcome every obstacle; that transcends all distance and time.  In this way, we never need to say goodbye.

To the Exchange Students of District 1650: over this past year we have become a team, with experiences and bonds that can never be replicated nor matched.  It has been a pure privilege to share this defining slice of my life with you, and I wish you all the best for your futures.  Finally, I hope you will always remember that my door is open to you forever:  both at my home in Canada, and in my heart.

The Year Gone By

While I should be composing a post illustrating the new host-family I have recently moved in with, plans for the future as summer rapidly approaches, and the fact that there remains a mere 9 days of my career as a french student, I have instead been struck by the creativity bug!  I promise to do a proper update soon, but in the meantime I`ve been writing poetry!

In the year gone by, I've been to the top of the Eiffel Tower.
I've walked over sands leading to the Mont Saint-Michel
I've even gazed into the eyes of the Mona Lisa, and realized
This is not what living in France is about.
 
Listen:
 
Life in France is driving through the green tides of the countryside
And eating crêpes beside a dark-grey storm of a sea
 
It is asking friends over for just the appetizer
And discerning the importance of petits cafés
 
It is summer nights and live music calling from café doors
And wandering about a town gone dead come Wednesday
 
On Thursday, it is eating galettes at the morning market;
It is discovering always new things of an old town
 
It is passing a hand over a stone wall and thinking of
The number of centuries your fingers have just felt
 
Our river la Rance is more beautiful than the Mona Lisa
I prefer the castle on the corner to Mont Saint-Michel
And our little church inspires me more than the Eiffel Tower
Because this is what living in France is about.
 
Listen:
 
It is knowing it's everyday beauty
the slightest details that are what makes it great
 
Mostly, it is the sound made by sneaker soles on cobblestones
And the scent of fresh bread on the air

When Exchange Students Come A'Calling

Last week-end 6 exchange students came to Dinan for a tour of Brittany, hosted by my friend Marie.  Having been sick at the start of the week, I only got to meeting up with them 3 days into their trip, but the 3 days we had left were PACKED!

It started with my calling up Marie Monday night, having cancelled on a party minutes before, to see if they were doing anything the following day.  Turns out I didn’t have to wait that long:  It was bowling night!

I got to Marie’s at 8pm and settled down with the other ESes; I heard about how the boat-ride had gone earlier in the day and helped with dinner.  And then we ate dinner.  And we took our time about it.  When we had finally cleared the table it was 11pm and we were a little tired.  After a quick vote however, we decided to go anyway.  It was the right decision.  I haven’t bowled in forever and as the night wore on my aim went increasingly off, but it was fun right through to 1am.  Getting home, I stumbled into bed, got a couple hours sleep and was up again at 9 the next morning.  Off to Dinard!

Dinard is a small town beside the sea, much like the more widely-known St Malo.  It was an overcast day and still way too cold to be frolicking on the beach, but Dinard does feature an indoor salt-water pool.  That’s where we were headed.

To be honest, I didn’t really see the point of a salt-water pool.  It was just like any regular swimming pool; only the water tasted bad and stung your eyes.  But the Jacuzzi was as good as any, and after swiping a couple floaties from the pool’s swim lesson stash, we had a good time finding different ways to abuse them.  (We even named some of our methods, such as the Magic Carpet and the Drowning Buddha.)

The rest of the day was relaxing; we ate, played with the dogs, watched tv, ate.  Normally, I would have had to have been looking forward to school the following day.  However, it being the last day the Eses were in town, I convinced my host-parents to let me take the day off to visit Rennes before they all caught their trains’ home.  Another mostly overcast day, and we didn’t do anything extraordinary – poked our heads into a couple shops and explored the gardens, then waited together for the trains to arrive.

And this part was interesting.  Because about half of the people I said good-bye to at the train station, I would never see again.  Some of them would be departing for their respective countries within the month!  And then I thought, well that’s not so odd, I have less than two months left now.

I still don’t know how I feel about this fact.  Only that it is a short time, and I had better make the most of it.