Wherever you go, there you are

In this morning's class, in response to what is your (astrological) sign, my comment was "I am a swimming pool." I felt quite pleased with myself: pisces = piscine, right? Wrong. I should have said  "poisson" (fish). My comment brought a lot of laughter to the room, and then Christian, my teacher, joked "Je suis le Piscene Olympique de Montpellier," referring to an actual pool here. (And though the joke seems pretty tame now, it had us in tears.) This was the bright spot of my day.

I am loving my class, and my teacher is really, really good. But life has a way…..

There is a saying related to a Buddhist teaching that goes something like "no matter where you go, there you are."As I study and travel and sightsee, I see all through the lens of who and what I am, as well as some attending emotional baggage, which still needs to be unpacked. As I wrote in on a postcard recently, I am doing my best to understand and to be understood. In that regard, life is not all that different here.

When one travels, one hopes for some refreshment and new perspective, and while I have seen some amazing sights, I am finding this journey to be quite challenging. Yesterday, as I sat on the lovely balcony on a lovely, bright Sunday morning, I found myself fretting and feeling quite frustrated with what seems to be an immeasurable distance between what I can do with the French language and what I hear from native speakers. I felt totally discouraged. And then I stopped and said "Hey! You're on vacation! You're learning French for fun, remember????"

And I need to remind myself that this is a working vacation. Very much so. When Jacqueline asked me on Saturday where I was going to go that day I told her that I did not want to go anywhere. She looked at me with surprise. I tried to explain that I had left seven days ago, had two days of travel, and immediately upon my arrival I began French class and have been doing a lot of sight-seeing. I spent the morning puttering around my room and putting things away and, in the afternoon, I took the tram into the centre of town and found Le Bookshop, a little store that sells English-language titles. I have very much felt the need to have a book to read, to give me some escape in the evening. I have lived alone for many, many years, and there are times where I may go for two or three days alone, without speaking to anybody. I really like alone time. A lot. And I have absolutely no alone time here at all. I decided today that, upon leaving Montpellier, I am going to a spot where I can really rest and recharge (a vacation!!) because, once I reach Paris, I am going to want to be sociable and to be on the go.

Jacqueline is a very conscientious hostess. Her meals are really, really good. In the evenings she prepares a full repast — bouef bourgignon, ratatouille, roasted chicken, all sorts of fresh vegetables and salads. One night we had a dish comprised of cod and anchovies laced with tomatoes and pickles. I had never had anchovies before, and I found the dish quite tasty. Another evening we had, what appeared to be, deviled eggs, only these contained sardines. They were served with a fennel salad and a carrot salad and a fruit salad that she had spent a good part of the afternoon in preparing.

Jacqueline is very old school French. Everything in her household runs on a regular schedule. The meal is on the table at 7 pm sharp, like clockwork. No nonsense in this household! The other day she told me she had cleaned house, and when I asked her if she cleaned once a week she looked at me with a look of horror! Mais, non! Trois fois! (Three times!) Jacqueline reminds me of my very proper and correct English mother. The only difference is, my mother had a sense of humor, as well as the capability to bend a little.

I am soon to get another explanation of how to use the toilet. I have followed directions regarding its use; however, well…. there is a problem. Jacqueline is on the phone now, I think possibly with someone to give her further assistance, since her efforts have not been successful in repairing the problem.

And the little fridge in my room is running. Again! Even though there is only a handful of grapes in it, and even though I told her the other morning that I had turned it off because it had awakened me several times during the night. Yesterday I had left the grapes sitting in my room, and when I came home, they were in the fridge and the fridge was running. When I removed most of the grapes this morning I turned off the fridge. I have turned it off three times and she has turned it on three times. Tonight I am turning it off before bed; however, I will turn it back on in the morning, even though there is nothing in it to keep cold.

Last night I felt homesick as my friends were all commenting on the blood moon on Facebook. I would have loved to have walked out in my yard and looked at the moon. I couldn't do it here because, once darkness hits, all the shades go down on the large sliding glass doors. And these are not just your little pull-down items. These are large, mechanical devices, the likes of which I could not have raised without disturbing Jacqueline. So, I did not get to see the moon.

I am in a bit of a state today, having awakened in the middle of the night, and having stayed awake. This afternoon, in order to get out of the apartment and in order to force myself to stay awake, I took the tram down to the Mediterranean. At the end of the line is a bus stop, but, rather than wait for the bus, I decided to walk. It was a little further than I realised. What with having a sore toe and my Crocs (instead of my sturdy walking shoes), it was a bit of a challenge; however I kept on walking and walking, and I eventually made it to the beach.

There were just a few people there on a long stretch of sand and rocks. A fellow approached with his towel and I took the liberty of asking him if he could tell me where the bus stop was. He explained in very, very broken English. Then he proceeded to strip down for a tan, and I began to snap some photos. As I was shooting, he called to me. He was laying on his stomach and made a motion with his hands and a sound that seemed as if he was asking me to put on his suntan lotion. Egads! No, as it turned out, he wasn't asking for suntan lotion; he wanted me to take a shot of all of the tattoos of women in very suggestive positions that were displayed across his back. I accommodated his wish and he laughed and I decided maybe it was time to try to find the bus stop.

Well, I couldn't figure out the schedule, and so I began to walk, now not just with sore toe and Crocs, but with sandy feet, a sore toe and Crocs, and now, unlike the walk out, I knew how far I had to walk to get back to the tram stop. I also had no water and hoped I could get a drink at a place I had seen as I entered the area; however, it was closed. Long story short, I was really, really lucky. When I got to the next bus stop, people were waiting and a bus soon arrived and it was mine and I dealt with a very impatient bus driver whom I couldn't understand and trusted that he gave me back the correct change for my 10E bill and even if he hadn't I wouldn't have cared, cause I was exhausted and the bus was air-conditioned. Thank you.

From the bus, took the tram home to find the toilet issue and the fact that I was locked out of my credit card account and couldn't reach the number they had given me on my cell phone, so had to hunt and search for a number to call from overseas. I finally reached an operator and reset my online access, but have still to go to the bathroom, something I have needed to do since leaving the beach.

And THIS is what it is really like to travel (well, some days, at least).

In case you don't know what water looks like...

And here is some air, with some birds

       

Crocs on Rocks