I don’t feel like I am even entitled to post on this blog now. I have been in North America for several hours and I am now in Chicago airport. Leaving France was possibly the hardest thing I have ever done. I could not drag myself away from the city. I could not drag myself away from Iannis. So much so that… I was 5 minutes away from missing my flight. (Well, that was also due to the fact that security decided they wanted to leaf through all my drawings and comment on every one.)
I feel empty of tears, although I know for a fact that I have more available for Winnipeg. I hate hearing English. I hate all the space and the trees and the sprawl and the ugliness. I despise the smiles on the faces of the people ; the smiles that do not mean anything at all. Such a service – centred culture- I find it nearly annoying. Of course – it is the lack of service-centred culture that prevented me from changing my ticket yesterday. The only reason I will be glad to be back is for the people I love.
I do not belong here. I belong in France.
My last official French act – I think it was going to the Louvre. The Louvre was really fun, actually, because I only had half an hour to see all my very favorite works of art. Suddenly, I realized – I know my way around the Louvre! I actually was able to take a path (I recorded it on a Louvre plan) that led me to all my favorites in half an hour! I am pretty proud of this path – it is quality. I feel like selling it to tourists.
The last evening, Iannis and I went for a walk in Montmartre. It was warm and the sun was setting. There were so many, so many tears this evening. We ate homemade raclettes, which is a french specialty of potatoes and lots of butter and cheese that you eat as soon as it melts on the raclette maker and charcuterie. mmmm!
I forgot all the cheese I bought at a Fromagerie in Iannis’ fridge. I can’t believe it. Sorry to everyone I alluded to gifts of cheese. It’s not going to happen. Or maybe I should have just gone to IGA… who knows who would know the difference?
Actually, my last memory of Paris the city itself was going out to catch the taxi I called and having a different taxi pull up and start arguing with my taxi guy. The taxi I was getting into was not the one I called- it was just the one driving by. Who knew? It was slightly stressful, and the taxi drivers were throwing around my portfolio. ahhh! I was already crying because I was leaving, and my french left me, and all I could say was ‘be careful’ … weak.
I am sorry I am being so negative about NA but I am sure you can all understand. It will take me quite awhile to to get used to it again – and I am not sure I really want to.
I will continue to post for awhile to kind of recap the sejour with reflections.