La conclusion

It was bizarre to pull up the Blogger website sitting here at home in my basement. It just didn't feel right. I guess that may be why I've been avoiding it all this time. I also put off unpacking for over a week, as if I thought that by not going through the physical act of taking my things out of my suitcases, the fact that I am at home - and no longer in France - wasn't actually true. Needless to say that didn't work. One can live in denial (and without clean socks) for only so long.

Not that I am sorry to be home! At least, not entirely. It was wonderful to see my family for Christmas. And it is great to see my friends again. In fact, I've slipped back into my whole old life like I never even left. It is bittersweet. France seems like a distant dream, or another reality. Was I just there a little over two weeks ago? It seems impossible. I left so much behind - a whole routine that I'd built for myself, people I met, relationships I developed. And the blog was a part of that other world.

But finally my relatives chiding me for not updating my blog spurred me to tack on this hodge-podge form of a conclusion. Maybe it is more like an Epilogue. But it is true that I couldn't leave things hanging and unresolved. Something had to be done.

So here I am. There is no way to recapture my mindset before departing, but I will try to at least give some closure to the various threads traced in this blog.

It was really tough saying goodbye to my American friends as well, since most of them are from far away - Chicago, New York, etc. We had a soirée finale and as president and vice-president, Sarah K. and I were in charge of making eggnog. See, I didn't even know people made eggnog. I thought it just magically appeared in those cardboard cartons sometime around the end of November. But Mme Rouchet, director of our program, said it was a tradition the Americans did every year and everyone really liked it. So we did some internet searching and found a recipe that looked easy - you could even do it in the microwave! Ha ha. Sounds good in theory perhaps, but in truth it was a recipe for disaster. Well, the stuff must have been drinkable, or maybe it was the two bottles of rum we put in it, but most of it ended up disappearing. Personally, for the several hours of labor that went into this stuff, I was rather underwhelmed. But some of my French friends loved the stuff though, and even asked for the recipe! Probably only because they don't know what the real stuff is. :)

Saying au revoir to my French family, or at least Madame and FX, was hard too. It's so funny that at the beginning I thought Mme Macaire didn't like me. When she said she would miss me, I believed her. At least, I detected some real regret to see me go! Monsieur Macaire told me I was the American student that worked the hardest out of the dozen or so they've had. Madame disagreed - 'remember that quiet girl that studied all the time?' - but told me that I was the one who was the most active, not that I was the most social, but that I had the fullest balance of working and going out and that I'd been involved in the most activities. She also said I had gotten to know the most French people. So in a way I feel like I succeeded! That's exactly what I had hoped for. Really, in the end, the only thing that disappointed me about my séjour in France was that it had to conclude.

FX gave me his adorable little stuffed duck, a prized possession, and some of the tea we used to share during our Franglais nights. I was really touched. My conversation group threw a party to send me off, with cider and all sorts of homemade goodies. And my French friends hosted a fancy dinner for the Americans of our group that were leaving, with fois gras and champagne. Nothing makes you feel appreciated like leaving a place...

The journey home was looong. (22 hours, start to finish, with 14 in the air.) It's taken me this long - two weeks, I'd say - to readjust to life at home. There are certain things I will always miss - the casual ease of speaking French all the time, the warm smell of fresh baguettes that rushes out the open doors of the patisseries as you walk by, the slightly slower pace of life, the sound of the tram accelerating away from a stop, the sight of the chateau on the way to the train station. The awesome power of the organ in those huge Gothic churches. People-watching outside a café sipping those not-too-sweet hot chocolates. Roaming whole cities by foot. Scheduling weekend getaways on the spur of the moment. Most of all, that special feeling - earned only through several months of awkwardness! - when you don't stick out like a sore thumb anymore; when you get the customs and technicalities right; when you've truly blended with another culture. Just as France has left a permanent imprint on me, I left a part of myself in France.

I know that if at all possible, I will go back there someday. Hopefully someday soon.