The Light Switch

It's hard to believe that almost two weeks have gone by since I arrived here. I feel as if I've been here longer, but, at the same time, can't believe how time has gone.

Over the weekend, I had the opportunity to work on my French a little bit. I seem to understand much more than I can communicate; I'll get there eventually.

Saturday, I attended a Rotary meeting with Paul, who was turning the presidency over to someone else that night. Having met Rotarians at home, the members of the club in Vaison seemed similar to the ones back in Grand Rapids.  Overall, the night was fun (as I found myself faced, once again, with good food).

I've gotten used to answering questions about myself while I'm here. To every new person I meet, I must explain what my purpose is here in France and other various questions about myself.  While I felt everyone was overwhelmingly accepting of me, it was during one of these question sections that I found myself feeling uncomfortable.

I don't believe that the comments were in anyway meant to be judgmental, but not being able to properly defend my position or explain anything makes it come off that way.  Of course, all of this stemmed from the always unavoidably uncomfortable question:

What do you want to do when you get out of school? (At least she spoke English, right?)

Then comes the lengthy explanation of "I'm not completely sure, probably I'd like publishing. There aren't a lot options for that though in the area. Of course the ultimate goal is to have my work published blah blah blah..." Continuing to say that while I'm almost done with school, my boyfriend works at the moment to save money to go back and won't be done for another few years. So likely, I'll work toward finding a job in the area first.

That's when I got the look and the sort of tutting noise that people make when they hear about in old friend from school who went down the wrong path and is now addicted to all sorts of drugs.

This woman was disappointed in me. Because, quite clearly, in her eyes, I was planning my life around a boy. Now, I didn't (and won't here either) go into how much I agree that planning your life around a boy is one of the stupidest thing a young girl can do. After all, how often does it work out? Instead, I politely explained how long we'd known each other and how long we'd been together.

The response (which normally consists of a smile and "that's so cute and nice to hear") was another shake of the head and soft tutting. The second woman shook her head as well this time and seemed to woefully explain how her daughter has been with the same boy for ten years, but what can you do?

Much of the remainder of our conversation consisted of me being told that I needed to "Get out of Grand Rapids" if I wanted to experience the world. That I should go and take an au pair job for a year and to "learn languages" to open the world to me. If my boyfriend loves me, he'll wait etc etc etc etc.

I can't disagree with getting out of Grand Rapids and seeing the world (what else was I doing for six weeks in France? and hadn't I just told her how much I'd loved Ireland?). And learning languages is a wonderful way to  open yourself to the world.  I love to travel; I want to go to Japan and Australia, Spain or China. But I'd like to do a lot of those things with my boyfriend.

We've been together for over six years now; I think there's a point where you decide you'd like to include somebody like that in your plans for the future. Granted, no, we aren't married or even engaged at this point, but I'm not going to go tromping around the world by myself with out considering our relationship and where it is likely headed in the future.

Anyway, small rant aside, the evening proved fun. I got to sit next to a nice woman who was a new member of the Rotary group, and I had a lovely conversation with her.

Every year when the children get out of school, Crestet has a small festival. There were bumper cars and a few carnival games, but the main event was a big meal.

So last night, I got to practice my French a bit. Because the town is so small, everyone really knows everyone else, so Paul introduced me to quite a few people.  A live band played, and people danced the Madison (which has become strangely popular in France).

For the first time, the food I couldn't handle.  I don't like seafood. The mussels I tried because I'd had them in Ireland (with lots of garlic mind you) and enjoyed them.  These ones just tasted like sea water.  So I pecked at my chicken and rice and ate bread until the cheese and salad came.  It was a small town get together, and it was fun.

More and more I find I like the slow the quietness of Provence. No one is in a big rush to be anywhere. Meals at Domaine de Crestet, for the most part, are eaten together. Evening tea (did I mention I was starting to like Green Tea a bit? Mission Accomplished).  It's all so relaxing.