More than a week has passed since I last posted, which frankly feels absolutely impossible to me. So much has happened, but at the same time it seems as if absolutely no time has passed. However, I, seemingly contradicting my previous assertion, must admit that I often feel like I have always lived in France (perhaps because the landscape is so eerily similar?). For me, the past days have been exciting, terrifying, and packed with newness, and I hope you enjoy the following quick (ish) recap of the highlights.
Vendredi (Friday): Diner in Sallanches
Three days after my arrival in France, I was still extremely exhausted much of the time. Listening and speaking French, coupled with six hours of décalage horaire (time difference), is not exactly a piece of cake, and I was struggling to stay awake for hours at a time. However, I was still delighted to be invited to a lovely Mont Blanc Vallée de l'Arve Rotary club dinner and meeting. I was lucky enough to be at the meeting on a very important night for the club, marked by a delicious multi-course meal. To be perfectly honest, I was so exhausted that I spoke quite simply for much of the conversation, reacting and processing much more slowly than usual. Even so, I thoroughly enjoyed meeting all of the wonderful Rotarians, all of whom are incredibly intelligent, kind, and (thankfully) generously clear with their speech. I returned home quite late that night, and fell asleep as soon as my physically heavy head hit the pillow.
Samedi (Saturday): Lyon
I have looked at pictures of Lyon for years: the food, the architecture, the people, the history, everything I could get get in my grasp. I was very sorry to see Marielle, my lovely host sister, leave our house in Domancy, but I was hugely excited by the prospect of seeing Lyon, to which she was moving for university, live and in person. Saturday morning, we piled into the car, a large drying rack protruding into the back seat and between myself and Marielle, to begin the two-hour-long drive to Lyon. I napped for the ride to the city (I told you I was extraordinarily sleepy! Also, to be fair, I had been out late) and woke to the hustle and bustle of the streets of Lyon. We efficiently moved Marielle's things into her charming new apartment before driving into the heart of the city to eat lunch.
We dined at Brasserie Georges, an enormous restaurant established in 1836, and I was more than satisfied by my Saucisson Pistaché "Maison Bobosse" (pistachio sausage), a delicious dish which my host family informed me is a Lyonnais specialty. I also munched on some wonderfully fresh strawberries with Chantilly cream. And yes, I am acutely aware that this is very quickly turning into a food blog. Please bear with me.
After lunch, my family showed me a handful of the most beautiful sights of the city. We first visited la Place Bellecour, home of a magnificent statue of King Louis XIV, as well as renderings of the Saône and the Rhône at King Louis' feet.
We next took la Ficelle, Lyon's cable car, up to the basilique Notre-Dame de Fourvière, a stunning cathedral perched on the summit of a hill, overlooking the city of Lyon below. The cathedral is almost silent and talking in anything above a hushed whisper is frowned upon. The ornate decorations and rosaces de vitrail, (beautifully designed stained glass windows) made the whole church look and feel like something out of a magical conte de fées (fairy tale). After exploring the building, we moved to the nearby wall, by which many people were pressed up to get a good look at the stunning vista of Lyon. We were rewarded for our patience by some lovely photos and memories, before taking la Ficelle back down. We walked the streets of Lyon, peeping into windows at the pink praline treats, before heading home. I will give you one guess who took another much-needed sieste on the drive back.
Dimanche (Sunday): The UTMB, or Ultra-Trail du Mont-Blanc, is an incredible test of athleticism in which runners from all around the world run and hike, day and night, through the Alps. This year's fastest runner, the French Xavier Thévenard, finished the course in 20 hours, 44 minutes, and 14 seconds. The race's finish line is located in Chamonix, a charming ski village near the foot of Mont-Blanc.
At noon on Sunday, I arrived in Chamonix to meet the Rotary inbounds of the Chamonix Mont-Blanc Megève club, of whom there are eight. We talked, took group photos, and got to know one another, before helping to set up tables and chairs for the post-race dinner for volunteers and runners. We also served drinks, pouring all manner of beverages for the hard-working athletes. I will never forget, even in my old age or if I wanted to do so, how to say "this is flat water, and that is sparkling water" and "no, there is no white wine; I'm so very sorry" in French.
Our group of inbounds is one of the kindest collections of people with whom I have ever had the pleasure of sharing an afternoon. For many of them, French is their second foreign language, and one of which they do not speak much. The bravery of these exchange students is something which I truly admire, and something of which they should be very proud. I am fortunate in that I am in a country that speaks a language with which I am familiar, and I am very aware that others in our group have a different task and experience ahead of them. In short, late at night when I arrived home, I felt extremely fortunate (and yes, sleepy) to be able to share my journey with such wonderful peers.
Lundi (Monday): Ah, the first day of school. I have not been the "new kid" since first grade, and I will say that the brief moments of standing alone by the casiers (lockers) and watching as best friends found one another and embraced, kissing each other on the cheeks, were terrifying. The fears of not making friends, not being able to understand anything, offending someone, and being shunned for being American were all racing through my head faster than Monsieur Thévenard raced over the French, Swiss, and Italian Alps.
Thankfully, I was quickly put much more at ease by my host sister Elise's best friend, who introduced me to her own friends and welcomed me with open arms and slow, clear French. I was, and still am, immensely grateful for her kindness and efforts to make me feel safe and wanted. For the first time since crossing the threshold of the Lycée du Mont-Blanc, I felt the plum-sized knot in my stomach loosening.
Throughout the day, I slowly but surely was reassured, by the warm smiles and friendly curiosity of everyone I met, that I would survive the first week (and maybe even the year!) at this French high school. To summarize: DO NOT BELIEVE THE "COLD" FRENCH STEREOTYPE! French teenagers have been more welcoming and wonderful than I could have possibly hoped, never mind hoped for myself.
Since the first day, school has gone swimmingly, all things considered. My teachers are quick-witted, understanding, but push me to work myself as hard as I can to keep up. I have never worked this hard in school before, and, as many of you know, that is not to say that my previous educational experiences have been too easy or unrewarding. Right now, I come home every day éreinté (mentally exhausted) and épuisé (physically exhausted), but the long hours are some of the most rewarding and intellectually stimulating time I have ever spent. I miss my friends and family back in the States, but I am incredibly reconnaissant (grateful) to be where I am.
So yes folks, it is indeed Friday, and this Julia is in love with her lot.