Sunrise on the Seine

This morning as my metro was crossing the Seine the sun was rising. The sky was lit up a beautiful grapefruit color, with golden clouds, and the water was reflecting it. It was a beautiful way to start the day, and a great way to mark 6 weeks in this amazing new life.

6 weeks. Wow. I can’t believe how fast the time has passed. Though it seems like years and years ago that I was stepping off the plane. I’m in a French time warp, but I am loving it. I am so glad that I am here for the full year, because right now the idea of going home after 3 months is so depressing, even 6 months. I am happy I am here for the long haul. It is still a bit mind boggeling though, to think about just how long it is. So I avoid that. I take things one day at a time, one meal after another.

I am building a new life. Constructed mainly of bread, desserts, dictionaries, and lots of sign language. I recognize people on the metro now, the regulars. I know the hours of the public library off by heart, I know where the best hot chocolate in the city is, and I could walk around the grocery store blind folded. I feel at home. I have made my own little niche in this huge city, my own little place.

Yesterday I played Rugby at school….. I have trouble understanding the rules of a game in English, but in French? It was sad. I understood that if you had the ball you wanted to run it to the end of the field. I thought that was pretty much it. So, someone passed me the ball, and I held onto it for dear life and ran. I ran and ran, all the way to the end of the field. Then I started to wonder why no one was chasing me, and why everyone was laughing at me…..turns out I was supposed to run the other direction. They all thought it was pretty funny, but needless to say, no one passes to me anymore.

The other night I woke up having a really bad dream. It’s rather complicated, and weird (as most of my dream are) but I will give a shortened version:

I was on the ferry boat going from Vancouver to Naniamo, it was the end of October or early November. It was me and Bridget, my dad and someone from rotary. I kept asking why we were going home, it hadn't been a year yet, it couldn’t have gone by that fast. And everyone kept telling me ‘Yes, it was a year, and now you are back.” But I knew it hadn't been a year. I kept saying “I don’t remember Christmas, I don’t remember Christmas. It wasn’t a year. I want to go back.”
Later on we were back in my house (only it wasn’t actually my house), and I asked my dad if it had really been a year, and why I was back so soon. He told me that no, it hadn’t been a year, only 2 months. I was back home because Orange (a phone company) was having a really savage battle with another phone company, and it was safer for me to be in Canada. I was distraught. I just wanted to go back.
I woke up and for a second I thought I was in Canada, then with a huge sigh of relief I realized I was in my bed, in France.


I want to thank all of you who have given me this opportunity. Thank you thank you thank you.


A teacher of mine once told me that everyone had a choice in life. We could choose to live, or to simply exist.
I am choosing to live, and I am loving it. I have never felt so alive. Sure, there are days where I just want to curl up, times when I want nothing more than to be surrounded by a language I understand, or to be simply hugged by my parents and told that it will be okay. Sure, there are hard times, but that comes with choosing to live. And trust me, it is worth it.