The sunny Easter
Monday morning on which I last put pen to paper seems a strangely distant dream;
a sign of the whirlwind form that the past few weeks have taken (and my lack of
authorial discipline…) After a fortnight in the familiar setting of Solihull (interestingly
considered both bizarre and impossible to pronounce by all Alsatian parties
consulted…. Have they seen their place names?) I have finally arrived at the
point of taking stock and sifting through the fog that is this returning
travellers recollection of 7 months as une
alsacienne. Despite initial reservations, I am pleased to say that hey, il
n’était pas si mal que ca. It wasn’t so bad after all. There are even some things I’m missing
already… Ironically first on the list being the weather (*of late*). Just prior
to my departure, arrived both my mum and the sunshine to enable me to profiter bien to a final few days in
Alsace. Summer arrived without warning, allowing a pleasant three days of
walking and enjoying the sights of a region that blooms in the finer seasons
and becomes even more beautiful with a sprinkle of glorious sunshine. Compared
to the-not-quite-so-beau temps here,
this climatic treat made the farewell even more bittersweet.
(*it must be noted
that the Alsatian winter is not something I currently pine for. I enjoy being
able to feel my toes on a daily basis.)
It was also with a
twinge of sadness that I left the chez Ellen
I had grown rather fond of, and the neighbours that came with it. Two
conversations amidst my suitcases were a reminder of the precious nature of all
encounters, brief or otherwise. Even if I did not spend a great deal of time
with my those living around me, even small conversations and the mere crossing of paths
means that each of us played a role in a season of the others life. Lydia and
Paul are names I will associate with College Daniel, and I am pleased
our journeys overlapped. Similarly, I
know I am blessed to have been able to tisser
les liens and spend time with a wider selection of real-life-French-people
I never would have pictured meeting.
From une chere Parisienne who found Alsace almost as foreign as I did, and luckily also shared my like of tea drinking accompanied by good conversation, to learning about the lives of more 'experienced' acquaintances and being treated to kind hospitality and not to mention good food. I was of course treated to the
stereotypical three-hour-lunch that necessitates strategic eating to enable you
to last until dessert. My mum made this mistake when invited by an amusing but
thoroughly lovely older couple, Annie and Claude, in thinking the avocado-salad
was the main course – it was only midday after all.
I’m already enjoying the
fact that “ foreign correspondence” can now officially be on the to-do list….
Hearing an update from church reminds me that I really was part of the
community, and not to mention the fact that it makes me feel rather cultured to
have French pen-email friends. The
visits to chateaux, trips on the TGV, and lessons in
Alsace-culture-and-etiquette, made for an interesting experience. But it was
actually learning to “do life” and to do
it alongside people regardless of changes in language, culture and country is
what i consider to have marked the year thus far a success. Personal Development (according to
the latest lingo in HigherEducation) looks to me like more than a growing vocab-book (though this useful) and a host of adventures and exploits to recount. Its negotiating a role in the French
education system that wasn’t quite as easy as I anticipated, finally finding
French humour funny (after understanding the joke), and enjoying la vie quotidienne and the every day
chats that go with it. I love the fact
that this season was filled with interesting encounters, genuine friendship,
and all the ups and downs of real life, just la version francaise. Despite
the seasonally sunny glow under which Part One concludes, I’m not quite ready
to leave the story there. Not yet “fluent”, and feeling there are still
valuable lessons to be learnt, fortunately the adventure doesn’t stop in
Alsace. Soon to be swapping my bike for the metro, a slow pottering pace for
the rhythm of 9 to 6, I’m just about ready to re-pack the suitcase.
Bring on Part 2.
To be continued.
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