Wow, almost a full year has passed and I didn't even write down the grande finale. Everything has become sweetly faded; blurred by time. Yet I will relate to you if not my feelings, then the facts of time and place. After the fact is nothing like getting my experiences served fresh, but I will do my best.

Or better yet, here are some diary excerpts:

le seize Juillet, 2009. 23:20

Why is the word hostel so close to hostile? Etymology is fascinating to me. The room is gorgeous with high ceilings and a small balcony. There are two bunks with four women to sleep in them. There is a very nice Grecian woman who is a French professor, an Asian girl who asked if I had a hairdryer, and another woman who just came in noisily with another man and women, went out on the balcony, and just as noisily left. We'll see how much sleep I'll get, as no one is in bed yet and only the Grecian woman is in the room. But I'm so tired I don't think it will be a problem.
It was so hard to leave Estella in Francois' apartment -- I didn't get to the hostel until about 8pm. It was almost unbearably hot in the subways even at that time of the day. And it hailed tonight! I was walking home (to the hostel that is) from a late dinner @ a slightly American place :-( , when lightning lit the sky and it started raining lightly. I decided to keep wandering because it felt so good to be utterly and completely free. Then a wind blew up and the storm literally blew in; gusting forcefully down the wide corridor of the main avenue. It was amazing. One second drizzling, next hailing the size of gumballs and rain the size of m&ms.
I was next to a McDo and promptly took cover. It was all very exciting I must say. It really hit me today that no one knows where I am. That is frightening, thrilling and daunting all at once. Thrilling especially because I have this chance now, and yet I know it's temporary.
Estella leaves for Greece at 2:30am tomorrow morning. I'm so glad I was able to share this London/Paris experience with her. I feel quite amazed that something like that is possible to coordinate, and especially blessed that it is possible for me.

Alors, bonne nuit. A demain. Je crios je vais au Louvre!


le dix-sept Juillet, 2009. 20:36

My last night in Paris and I'm celebrating. I ordered my first glass of wine tonight (the first that I ordered with just myself as company). It's sitting in front of me currently untouched. I haven't eaten in awhile (since lunch, but I'm really hungry) and I know it's best to wait for my salad. I tried to find a boulangerie that a website said was san-gluten, but alas I walked several miles through a sketchy part of town for naught. The building wasn't even there. It was worth a try.
Oh wow. The wine is good. A beautiful rose that hits all the right places on your tongue. It is sweet and dry.
Earlier today I was in an Indian shop when a man asked me if I liked the hat he was trying tipped up or down (it was one of those pinstriped pimp-hats). I said down and then he made a joke about Michael Jackson. He said I wasn't French. I agreed and told him I was American (always not a good idea, but I forgot). He told me I spoke French well, so I thanked him and made to leave. He stopped me and offered me his phone number, saying he was a DJ (riiiight). He asked me if I was alone. (Yes, I can just see you shaking your head, but wait there's more!) Thankfully I had the presence of mind to lie and I said I was avec mes amis. I also said I leave Paris tomorrow. He started talking again, but I was already out the door. Then he did what I was afraid of and followed me out of the shop. I walked quickly and he yelled. I kept walking, but all he did was say 'salut mademoiselle.' I didn't look back.

What should I do tomorrow morning before I go to the train station?
schedule so far:
8:30am petit dejeuner, pack, McDo for internet to get name of supposedly delicious and cheap vegan place, buy last minute gifts?
12pm dejeuner
1:15 leave l'auberge, prend le metro
2:00 Gare de l'Est
2:24 train departs


le dix-huite Juillet, 2009. 13:30

I love train stations. And airports. And while there's always an accompanying sadness, for me it's always far overwhelmed by my excitement at going someplace new.
I'm on my way back to Strasbourg for 2 days before I go home, sweet home. As my stay in France comes to a close, I discover I have quite a few emotions. Happiness at all the experiences I've had and memories I've made. Sadness at having to leave. Excitment: completely and utterly excited about going home.
There are others which are less clear, but which add to the general explosive feeling I have.

It's odd being back in le Gare de Paris l'Est where I met the Cumberfords -- my first contact w/ friends/family in over 2 mos. -- just nine days ago. The fact that I am now traveling back by myself overlays a layer of sadness on my excitement.
I am feeling guilty and nervous about what I did and didn't get as gifts. I hope people like their presents. I'm glad I got lots of soap. I think that's one of the most authentic things I've gotten. It's hard to find 'authentic France' in Paris -- maybe impossible, depending upon your definition.


July 20th, 2009.

I can't begin to count how many times I've thought of this day in the past few months. When you look forward to something so much, you sometimes begin to project emotions or actions on to that day before it's even arrived. And now that the day is here, everything is confusing because obviously the truth of what happens isn't the same as previously imagined.
Even though I successfully made it to the Frankfurt airport and onto the right plane (a big feat as it turns out) and am even now flying over the Atlantic, I still can't quite believe I'm going home. As we get closer (there's still about 6 hours of flight left) I think my excitement will definitely build, but right now it's as if I'm in a daze -- I'm having trouble keeping thoughts in my mind for an extended amount of time. I am tired though, and have had a lot of strong experiences and emotions in the past week.

A side note about my journey to the airport, which for some reason I neglected to write about at the time:
I had the bright idea that I would take le train, as it was cheaper, even though Jean-Luc (the dad) was taking the bus to the same airport, same day, same time. I was assured it would be no problem to navigate. So Jean-Luc takes me to the Strasbourg train station so I can catch a train to my train. Which ends up being a train to a train to my train. Thank god mostly all Germans speak English very well.
I am safely and securely seated in my train that is supposed to take me directly to the airport. After about a half hour of playing sudoku (my best friend on this trip), the ticket taker comes down the aisle checking seats, etc., and tries to inform me (I say tries b/c I don't understand German in the slightest) that because I did not SPECIFICALLY choose a seat number (which I thought I had, but apparently I was just 'general') they had booked the seat I was in, and all other seats were taken, so I was going to have to sit in the aisle with my stuff (way too much stuff btw). All said and done, this ended up being not so bad.
Eventually we arrive. There is no airport. FUCK! I have to admit I was about to flip my shit. I ask for the airport and the guy points generally towards the ground. Really? Well I have to take the subway through Frankfurt to get to the airport, but I don't have enough coins for a ticket and my the machine won't take my card, and there are lots of buttons all in German. An extremely nice lady helped me choose the correct ticket and exchanged me coins for my cash (thank you dear lord, euros are used in Germany too).
By now I'm sweating profusely (ok I'll tell you -- a duffel AND a backpack. UGH.) underneath German soil, waiting for the train and praying I'm waiting for the correct one going in the correct direction. I ask two people to make sure.
Finally on the subway, now what stop to I get off at? Thank you for requiring English in your schools Germany; don't mind me, the spoiled and silly American. I get off at.........the right place!!! Going up the escalator I say Jean-Luc's concerned face peering down at me. It was like ascending to heaven.

Back to my diary.

It also feels strange not to have said goodbye to Jean-Baptiste (although he and Laetitia wrote an extremely touching letter), Florent, or Paul-Eric. Not strange for that family, but strange for me. I always have a hard time with goodbyes. I need to work on that, especially because I like going places so much. You have to leave somewhere to go somewhere.
I must admit, even though it was very nice not having a cell phone (I don't like answering the phone) it will be extremely nice to call people whenever I feel like it. Having to make Skype dates and dealing with internet issues was a bother.
I feel a deeper sadness then I expected at leaving the Servias and France. I hope it works out for me to return -- hopefully soon. Maybe this spring, or next fall (school in France?!)...who knows what will happen. Anything is possible :-)

later on the flight.
I'm getting extremely excited now!!! I can't sleep! I know I should, but my mind won't calm down. Still another four hours or so of flight left.
I love flying. I wish I could fly without the assistance of engines. I want to go hang-gliding. I also love airplanes because if you're lucky to be on one, it means you're going someplace new (it doesn't matter if you've been there before). I also love how time takes on a different meaning. When I flew to France a whole night passed by in the space of several hours. Now, on our way west, we're chasing the sun. Even though we will have been airborn for almost 10 hours, only about 3.5 hours in sun terms will have passed. I'm told that going west is less confusing for the body. Although it might be different for me b/c I had to get up at 4:30 am. Already that feels like a long time ago...my stay in France. It's hard to believe 2.5 mos. have passed. Strange indeed.
I wonder who will be at the airport.