C'est presque fini! After months of scabrous preparation and cyclopean piles of paperwork, the seemingly Sisyphean task of readying for France is near complete. I've made the trek down to San Francisco, CA, had an easy, less-than-five-minute appointment at the French Consulate, and now my Visa and Passport sit neatly in a folder labeled "France". Next to it, a copious array of bags lay in the corner of my room awaiting packing trials.
Packing. The final, and tedious, task lingers on the edges of my thoughts, stress creeping up my spine like ivy the longer I procrastinate. However, with boxes of personal items scattered throughout the West, packing will just have to wait. At the moment I am working as a cook and wrangler out in Wyoming for a ranch called Double Rafter Cattle Drives. I also attend Montana State University in Bozeman during the school year, where I have an apartment with four other girls and major in French and Anthropology. To add to the chaos, my parents are in the process of moving out of my childhood home in Washington, and down to Idaho. So, the next arduous task: scrape together what belongings I can find and put them in a bag.
I hope that I can find my power adapter and voltage converter. That's probably the most important thing that I could take. I've also tried to limit my books to five: my favorite text book Rond-Point for vocabulary, Conversational French for tidbits and phrases, Barron's 501 French Verbs for the tricky tenses, the Bible, and then something just for fun. Limiting my book collection was extremely difficult and maybe I'm overdoing it on the textbooks, but it's been a long time since I've used my French and I'm afraid that I'm a little rusty. As for clothes, all that I have planned so far is a windbreaker/rain coat. I know that I will definitely need that in Aix. As for the rest? Je ne sais pas.
Although paperwork is a sponge that sucks the fun from any coming adventure and packing is a source of anxiety, I'm still jittery at the idea of spending a year in Aix-en-Provence, France. But reality has yet to set in, still only ideas and daydreams roll around and crash in my head like waves. I imagine a sweet French family, maybe with a small, yappy dog and a cottage in the country near vineyards, and the vibrant reds of poppy fields. I imagine wine tasting, spelunking and admiring Neanderthal artwork. I imagine walking to school past bustling markets wafting with an aroma of freshness, while devouring gravity-defying pastries as politely as humanly possible, and chattering as best I can with the locals.
In reality, the French will probably laugh at my accent and kids will tell me to say things that don't actually mean what they tell me. Ah, c'est la vie!
I don't quite yet know what to expect, but whatever may come will be warmly received and will undoubtedly expand my cultural knowledge and alter my perspective for a lifetime.
Á bientôt!
Packing. The final, and tedious, task lingers on the edges of my thoughts, stress creeping up my spine like ivy the longer I procrastinate. However, with boxes of personal items scattered throughout the West, packing will just have to wait. At the moment I am working as a cook and wrangler out in Wyoming for a ranch called Double Rafter Cattle Drives. I also attend Montana State University in Bozeman during the school year, where I have an apartment with four other girls and major in French and Anthropology. To add to the chaos, my parents are in the process of moving out of my childhood home in Washington, and down to Idaho. So, the next arduous task: scrape together what belongings I can find and put them in a bag.
I hope that I can find my power adapter and voltage converter. That's probably the most important thing that I could take. I've also tried to limit my books to five: my favorite text book Rond-Point for vocabulary, Conversational French for tidbits and phrases, Barron's 501 French Verbs for the tricky tenses, the Bible, and then something just for fun. Limiting my book collection was extremely difficult and maybe I'm overdoing it on the textbooks, but it's been a long time since I've used my French and I'm afraid that I'm a little rusty. As for clothes, all that I have planned so far is a windbreaker/rain coat. I know that I will definitely need that in Aix. As for the rest? Je ne sais pas.
Although paperwork is a sponge that sucks the fun from any coming adventure and packing is a source of anxiety, I'm still jittery at the idea of spending a year in Aix-en-Provence, France. But reality has yet to set in, still only ideas and daydreams roll around and crash in my head like waves. I imagine a sweet French family, maybe with a small, yappy dog and a cottage in the country near vineyards, and the vibrant reds of poppy fields. I imagine wine tasting, spelunking and admiring Neanderthal artwork. I imagine walking to school past bustling markets wafting with an aroma of freshness, while devouring gravity-defying pastries as politely as humanly possible, and chattering as best I can with the locals.
In reality, the French will probably laugh at my accent and kids will tell me to say things that don't actually mean what they tell me. Ah, c'est la vie!
I don't quite yet know what to expect, but whatever may come will be warmly received and will undoubtedly expand my cultural knowledge and alter my perspective for a lifetime.
Á bientôt!