All the World's a Stage

In the days when I did theater, I never let myself go. Even after the curtain rose, with the audience filling the chairs, I would find myself still repeating my lines off stage, afraid that the words I had recited countless times in the past weeks would escape me. This hindered me from ever truly giving myself over to the experience. I was never able to live in the moment on that stage or be true to the world in which my character was living. I didn’t trust myself enough.

Last night as I lay in bed, my mind was going over the list of things I needed to accomplish today. I saw myself going to the post office and soon I had a whole scene playing in my head. I rehearsed what I would ask the man behind the counter. « Bonjour! J’ai besoin de vingt timbres… » I stopped. « …pour les Etats- Unis. » No no no. « …aux Etats-Unis. » Wait. Which is it? And in that moment, I asked myself, does it matter? In all honesty, I think either phrase is correct. But what irked me was discovering my unrelinquished fear of making mistakes. I have asked for stamps countless times in French and have never walked away empty handed. So why do I still find myself repeating words and questioning something I know?

Shakespeare wrote “All the world’s a stage”.  There of course are many interpretations of what he meant by this. But for me, if I take this quote in its most literal sense, I find that my life on the stage is a magnified reflection of how I act in life.  Just like in those days of theater, it comes back to the simple truth that there’s a lack of trust within myself. The scenes I rehearse in my head are almost never what are played out. Instead of fretting over what I’m going to say to the man at the post office, I need to learn to just listen and respond to what comes at me.
Life is truly unpredictable.

A gift to myself: a Nutella recipe book along with my first creation.

For reasons unknown, I have grown quite fond of this chocolate, hazlenut spread while in Europe. 

Perhaps it was forced on me by the lack of peanut butter.

Regardless, I love Nutella and this has undoubtedly been my best purchase thus far.

Life and Learning

Two months ago today I arrived in Commercy, France. I was bright eyed and ready for what the next eight months would bring. Now here I am, a quarter of a way through this adventure.

What I’ve learned about myself:

• Small town living is not for me.
• The things that come to my mind don’t always need to be spoken.
• I miss having roommates.
• I love working with students.
• The more free time I have on hand, the less I seem to accomplish.
• Grey’s Anatomy is a girl’s best friend when it comes to learning French.
• Perhaps I can learn to be a reader after all.
• Hot water, bubbles, candlelight, good music, and wine can make even the worst day better.
• I don’t like walking home from the grocery store with heavy bags in tote.
• Some days I don’t even step outside and I’m okay with that.
• I prefer having a set schedule.
• I hate not being able to pick up the phone and call whoever, whenever.

This list just touches the surface. Being here has given me more time than ever to reflect who I am and what I want in life. Sometimes I feel like I’m going crazy with all this free time, but then I remind myself that I probably won’t have this much freedom again until retirement. Enjoy it while I can.

In general, things are looking up. I had a wonderful weekend. With the holiday on Friday (Bastille Day here in France), I spent the day with one colleague, her family, and an older retired couple. It was a day filled with food, games, and laughter. It reminded me a bit of home, especially when the round of Rummikub began, one of my family's favorites. There of course were language difficulties, as always. 

"BreAnna, do you like playing cards?" 

"No, I don't have a pet. My mother doesn't like animals in the house."

Oh my. But after six hours, I blame my exhausted brain for that one.

Saturday I was invited by another teacher to have dinner at a Chinese restaurant with her, her boyfriend, and her childhood friends. I wasn't sure if I would be able to last through another day of endless hours of French, but as the evening began, the conversation seemed to come with ease. We enjoyed the buffet, then headed back to the apartment for some Trivial Pursuit. Now, this game isn't for me when the questions are in English, so imagine me trying to play in French. Needless to say, I wasn't the most valued player. Despite the language barrier, it was still enjoyable. We took turns having me read off the cards in French, then having the other players try their best at translating them to English. This created quite the uproar among the group, making the next three rounds fly by with ease.

And on this typical Monday night, I sit enjoying a cup of tea, listening to the French radio, and basking in the glow of not having anything to do. What a great start to another week of life lessons.

Tour de France

The fair in Bordeaux

In the wise words of my mother, “just feel”.

I’ve been waiting for a day when my mood was a bit brighter to update my blog as to bring a little more joy to my writing. But here I am, over two weeks later, and not much has changed.

So instead of stressing myself out by thinking what can I do to fix this, I’ve instead been trying to take the above words to heart.

If the man at the pasta stand doesn’t understand that I want a Coca Zero even after having repeated myself three times and I walk away mad, feel mad. If I’m smiling from ear to ear because the elderly French woman at the costume shop and I had a great conversation about her travels in the United States, feel happy. And if the skies are gray in Commercy, the rain keeps pouring, and I still have no one to talk to, I’m slowly learning that it’s okay to feel lonely.

The best thing I’ve found about living in France would have to be the vacation. So amidst all this emotional turmoil I’ve been experiencing, I took advantage of my twelve days of paid time off…

Thus begins, my vrai Tour de France.

Bicycling through Bordeaux

Wine Tasting

Claire and I began our tour in Bordeaux: the wine capital of France. With a city bearing such a title, there was no way we could come and not take a tour of the local vineyards and wineries. Sunday morning, we woke up for a full day’s worth of pressing, fermenting, smelling, and of course tasting. We were accompanied by a nice retired couple from the Aquitaine area who spoke little English, thus making this a tour completely en français. At the end of the eight hours, I left with a tired brain from the abundance of new French and wine vocabulary being thrown at me, but leaving with the thought that if my next plan doesn’t work out, there’s always wine school. The rest of our time spent in this charming city included an evening tour of the city with a local Bordelais and an adventure on bike, checking off one more item in my book of things to do.

Next came the castles. We made the city of Tours our home base and took it from there. We were able to explore three châteaux in two days. Every time I set foot in one of the 500 year old structures, I couldn’t help but be in awe of the work it took to build and to see the beauty still standing today.

Château de Chenonceau

Château de Blois

Château d'Amboise 

On Wednesday, I had a special treat. My dear friend Asha from England, whom I met while working as a nanny in Maine two years ago, made the trek undersea (via the Chunnel) to reunite our friendship. It’s crazy to think we’ve only been together three times: first the United States, then England when I visited her in 2009, and now in France. Yet we never seize to have a great time. We took the next day and half to tour the big sites in the city of love. Following, we headed back to my neck of the woods. We took in a local restaurant of Commercy, saw a French circus, visited the “big city” of Nancy, and I was even able to show off the pride of my town, the madeleine. It was great to have a partner with whom I could discover new things throughout my area.

Asha and Bre in Paris

Halloween morning Asha and I headed back to Paris where we said our goodbyes, and I once again was reconnected with Claire. The two of us then hopped another train heading west, to our first French city, Caen. We celebrated the very American holiday with all our old friends in all our old spots. It was great to reminisce, but it was just a gentle reminder that you can never recreate the past. New memories were made, but the old will always have a special place in my heart.

Bre and Claire in Caen

And here is where my tour ends. There is, of course, much more that could be said. But living in a place where I so often don’t have the right words, has made me really take a moment to step back. Do I always need to say what comes to mind? When I find myself stuck on not knowing how to say something in French or missing the moment to add in my tidbit because the conversation has already moved on by the time I understand, I wonder if my words would have mattered anyway. So instead, I’m listening more and talking less. And when I'm completely lost, I'll tell myself, "just feel".