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Shoes hanging on a telephone wire by the Russian Orthodox Church near my apartment.
Despite what the lack of blogging might suggest, I did indeed make it to New York and am settled in my new apartment. I’m living in a charming little apartment near McCarren Park, which is populated day and night by soccer and football players and I can spy on a skateboard park from my window. I’m walking distance to the apparently trendy Bedford Avenue, which as far as I can tell is a long stretch of books, coffee, and people wearing thick glasses and skinny jeans. It’s been a little overwhelming and I’ve been so grateful that my amazing friend Elizabeth has been accompanying me around town and showing how this city connects together.
First NYC Space Invader sighting! In Brooklyn, on Beford Avenue.
My cab driver from the airport had no clue where my street was, so I had to call my new roommate for directions while he yelled at people on the street. But I did make it and met Elizabeth at a coffee shop where I got a much needed iced coffee and vegan pastry. Then we moved my stuff into my apartment and made our way to her neighborhood, the East Village, and got falafel.
Flowers for sale in Brooklyn Heights.
The next day, we explored Brooklyn Heights and DUMBO (another Brooklyn neighborhood), which were both lovely, and met up with Elizabeth’s friend Sally. Delicious melon Popsicles under the Brooklyn Bridge while exploring a flea market were involved. Oh, and the popsicles were discounted due to their being broken. Saving the pennies!
Waterpod docked in Brooklyn.
We also visited the Waterpod, which was stopped in Brooklyn and was docked on the river. It’s a floating eco-habitat and had plants and even some chickens, who didn’t seem bothered by the somewhat nauseating boat swaying. There were also gorgeous views of Manhattan from the boat. Which are obscured in this picture by my focus on the Waterpod. Sorry!
A skeleton flamingo stencil in my Brooklyn neighborhood.
I’ve tried to do a lot of exploring and so far have visited just about every bookstore between Union Square and Astor Place. I kind of love Union Square. Yes, it’s over-crowded and gentrified, but there’s so much people watching! I saw a guy wearing a Boba Fett mask playing the accordion, a group of enthusiastic Hare Krishnas, a hula hoop contest, and bought delicious strawberry juice from the green market.
Deer and butterfly window display.
One night, we went to a curated cheese tasting by Liz Thorpe of Murray’s Cheese. I had no idea such amazing cheese was produced in the States. I guess I’m a French cheese snob after all. We also got bubble teas in the East Village, mine being a Lychee Nectar flavor.
Animal pillows at the Areaware Pop-Up Shop.
Another evening we went to the Areaware Pop-Up Shop, which had free wine and art and objects from New York-based designers. I especially liked the above animal pillows and would be quite happy with any of them.
I feel like I’m leaving out a lot, but the past few days have been a blur. A very hot blur, I should add, because the humidity here is insane. And air conditioning is mediocre at best. We have a window unit and I bought a necessary fan, but it’s still hot. Oh well, fall is soon and winter will come after, and I’m much better with the cold than the heat. It can’t be colder than the top of the Alps, right? Well, I had a job interview yesterday at a musical theatre organization and I have one at an education nonprofit tomorrow, so I’m confident that a job is ahead.
Dead face garage sign in Valence.
You can tell with the assistants that we’re all aware that the end is near, because every time we encounter each other this question always comes up: “What are you doing after France?” And the response is almost a uniform “I don’t know.” Some people are going to graduate school, a few are still undergraduates, a handful have jobs waiting for them, but most are like me and are just hoping that something turns up when we get back home. Although home is so arbitrary. Is Oklahoma still my home if I don’t intend to move back there? What about my hometown, Bartlesville? My parents are moving away from there, so I’ll have no reason to go back. And the United States seems too large to call a home, although it might be my best answer. The fact is that in two months when I go back to the United States I’m going to have to find a new home, job, apartment, and life. I would be lying if I said I wasn’t nervous, but then again I’m ready to see something new and, I’ll admit it, be in a country where I’m no longer a foreigner. I get tired of being an outsider and even when I’m not speaking and therefore hiding my accent, I feel like I have some cloud of otherness around me. Yet I’ve definitely felt like an other in the United States, especially in the awkwardness of high school or in rural towns that still have George W. Bush stickers on all the cars.
Buvez Choky! An advertisement for chocolate-flavored coffee.
Despite all that, I know I’m going to miss France terribly. I’ve met some wonderful people and have seen and done more things than I expected to do in my entire life. If I ever get depressed here, I’m only a 5 minute walk from what will undoubtedly be the most delicious pastry of my life. I’ll miss getting coffee at cafes with no worries about deadlines. I’m going to miss having so many friends. After graduation from college, most of my friends moved away and while I had a lot of acquaintances, there weren’t many people with whom I could have a casual yet meaningful conversation. Maybe it’s more of me being comfortable with myself, but I just feel like I know so many wonderful and open people here that it’s going to be sad to possibly not see some of them again. Although with the wonder that is the internet and Facebook, I’m sure that there will always be some contact. On the positive side, I will know people all over the States and the world and when traveling should never be far from a friend. And to those that I have met over here who might be reading this, know that you’re welcome to sleep on my couch or floor wherever I may be living. Even if it’s a closet-size apartment in New York.
Le GARAGE.
I find myself keeping an unofficial mental list in my head of the pros/cons of France versus the United States. For example, the teenage boys pushing in front of me and the man with a cane to get on the bus today would be a con. The spitting on the streets and people not cleaning up after their dogs are also negatives. However, I can see a crumbling castle on a hill when I walk through the center of town and can take a train to Provence whenever I want. Definitely pluses. In the end, France is not some sort of magical dreamland nor is it a slum, just like the United States.
As to where I want to live in the United States when I get back, my hope is a major city with New York, San Francisco, Washington D.C., Chicago, and Seattle all under consideration. I am honestly up for anything.
Armistice Day ceremony in Valence on November 11.
I’m a little behind on posting, so I’ll sum up what I’ve been doing with some pictures of Valence. On November 11, I went to the Armistice Day ceremony in the park. It was raining, although that trend would continue for all of Armistice Day (which as you may recall from a previous post, was one long string of board and card games). It was a little unnerving that the soldiers seemed to be carrying automatic weapons for the ceremony. Although I did like their capes.
Armistice Day capes. Probably year-round capes.
I went to the ceremony with Jacinta, an English language assistant from Australia. We were pretty lost about what was going on. The ceremony didn’t end with much fanfare, just the soldiers marching off and the people with umbrellas staring at them leaving. There was a lively recorded version of La Marseillaise that played during their march. But there were guys with bugles there, so I don’t know why they didn’t play it. Maybe the bugles, like the guns, were just for show. Or at least that’s what I hope about the guns. I really doubt a war is going to break out in Valence in the middle of Armistice Day.
Flowers at the feet of the WWI memorial in Valence.
The memorial itself is in the Parc Jouvet and includes a large concrete obelisque, two walls with soldier names from 20th century wars, and this statue of a fallen soldier. I’ve noticed that almost all the WWII memorials in France have a little box on them or a small urn that contains ashes from the concentration camps. I find this to be a little strange. I guess something needed to be done with the ashes, but then again, all they are is stashed at the bottom of a giant block of concrete. I don’t know, something about it is off to me.
Le Suisse(s). A creepy Valence speciality.
On Saturday, November 15, Sarah, an English language assistant from England working in Privas, came over to Valence and we went to the Bouquet de Vins. It was amazing. We paid 5 euros to get in and could taste all the wine and regional food that we wanted. The regional delicacies included Le Suisse, seen above. He is a pastry man who tastes like an orange scone. The story goes that when Pope Pius VI died while in prison in Valence in 1799, the Swiss Army men who guard the pope came to collect his personal effects. To honor this or mock them, no one is sure, a local baker made a pastry wearing the Swiss guard uniform. And for whatever reason, they kept on making them. The above Suisses are in the window of what people consider to be the best bakery in Valence. I did buy one of the tiny ones on the left when Liza, another assistant in Privas from the States, was visiting.
Stairway to the center of Valence.
In addition to le Suisse, there was nougat, chocolate, cheese, truffle oil, caramel liqueur, and so many other things that are far from health foods and therefore amazingly decadent. Of course, there was also the wine. Over 150 wines and things in the wine family were available for the degustation, like the Champagne-like Clairette of Die. All of the wines were good, although I definitely liked the Clairettes. The wines were all from the region, so there were a lot of red and white Côtes du Rhône (as we are along the Rhône river). And the best part is that none of them were terribly expensive. There were a few that were 40 euros, but even that is decent compared to the cost of wine in the States. On average, the wines were around 8 euros. And all of the winemakers were very friendly and chatty so I got to learn about wine in French.
View of the cathedral in Valence.
I think I’ve finally detoxed from work in the States and can relax. It was just such an abrupt change from working full-time 40 hours a week in a job that never had a break from stress, plus all the freelance work I was doing. I think I’m to a point now in France where I can finally just relax and not feel like I’m wasting time. I don’t know if it’s being an American or what, but I always feel guilty about relaxing when I could be working. I’m also used to rushing around to get things done as quickly as possible so that more work can be done. It’s just such a different approach to life here where it’s okay to drink coffee and stare into space for an hour. Not that I’m going that far yet. If you know me, you know that in a way I like to deadlines and work. But I am starting to not be stressed by the stress-free life, if that makes sense.
Kiosque at the Champ de Mars in Valence.
Work continues to get better as I adjust to the teaching routines. I really do the same thing everytime in terms of the ritual of the class: song, redo what we did last week, introduce new material. Soon I’ll be starting the Very Hungry Caterpillar in three of my classes. I’m also getting better at my private lessons. All of the kids I teach privately are incredibly sharp. So I’ve been using the book of Native American short stories I brought. My favorite is the story of the rattlesnake. Basically, a boy is walking along the road after a cold night and sees a rattlesnake. The rattlesnake asks the boy to pick it up, warm it, or it will die. The boy says no, the rattlesnake will bite him. But the rattlesnake promises not to, so the boy picks it up, warms it, and then the snake bites him. The boy asks the snake why it did that when it said it wouldn’t bite him. The rattlesnake says, yes, it said it wouldn’t bit him, but the boy knew it was a rattlesnake.
Parc Jouvet in Valence.
I’ve gotten to a point where I have somewhat of a routine. I can look forward to the bar quiz on Tuesday, although I’m usually not too much help with the questions about France. I usually meet with the international people on Wednesday. There are philosophy lectures on Thursday. And usually music at the pub on Friday. I do like to mix it up, so this week me and Lauren, a language assistant from Canada, went to the Internationale Biennale Design in Saint-Etienne. It was mind blowing. I have many pictures and will post about it soon. This weekend I was hoping to meet some other assistants today in the South, but I don’t think it’s going to work out, so I’ll try to catch them tomorrow. Next week will be epic, with two Thanksgiving celebrations, the Fete de la Lumiere, and Ratatat in Lyon.
I have a lot more pictures of Valence on my flickr that you can check out. I’m trying to work all my photos into blog posts, so maybe some of them will turn up here soon.
