-F. Scott Fitzgerald, The Great Gatsby
In case it's not obvious yet, I adore this town. I am constantly refreshed by my surroundings. In between the broken French and the sweet rosé, reality occasionally seeps in. I’m trying to be more graceful about falling apart. I don’t mean falling apart in a negative way, because I am 20. I have the luxury of redefining my humor and my aesthetics and my passions in the South of France. I have the privilege to reevaluate the appropriate weight of academics and social life and self-discovery. I’m trying to be okay with being lost in a culture and myself and the staggering uncertainty of everything that lies ahead.
Fortunately, I am able to do so among friends, over baguettes and camembert. I am constantly reminded that I do not belong here by the gentle smile the woman in the cheese aisle at Monoprix offers when my friends and I whisper to each other, “How do you say cream cheese?” The softness in her eyes seems genuine, as if to say, “Poor you.” But I wish I had the French to tell her that I am so ridiculously fortunate. I can walk around the outskirts of Aix listening to old Amy Winehouse whenever I please. I can board a plane to Italy for fall break for 20 USD. I can sleep with the shutter slightly open and feel the shimmering heat of the morning sun on my face. I can take time out of my academic career at a prestigious liberal arts college to rethink my priorities and my food choices and the way I wear my hair. This is what privilege looks like: Stepping into France and almost fitting in. Almost getting pitied. Asking your parents if you can spend a year here.
I leave in six weeks. I haven’t accomplished everything I dreamed of doing because most of my goals were abstract and naïve. This isn't a dream. I realized that France has many more dimensions than the manner in which I had my parents decorate my bedroom in elementary school. My grasp of the language is inconsistent and self-conscious. But I am incredibly happy here, despite being so lost, because I have space. I have space to grow and whittle myself into something more solid. Something more whole.
Meanwhile, I’ve been traveling. I’ve been to Malta, Spain, and Italy. They were all splendid, but I prefer France. Here are a few of my most treasured photos from my trips!
XOXO
Bisous,
Lucy