I did laundry and slept. Right now I’m trying to figure out how brave I am. The post is short because of my uncertainty.
Monthly Archives: October 2023
Day Thirty, Bonus post
As I was going about my day, I had thoughts that I jotted down because they resonated with my sensibilities. If they don’t yours, that’s okay.
- Know what you want and make it happen.
- Fall in love with everything always, every day.
- Don’t forget to look up to the falling leaves. Their promises have already been met.
- Keep moving, even if it’s a sidestep. (Miss Marge used to tell me that was the secret to a long life, keep moving. I added the sidestep because I’m prone to misadventures and being lost).
- Desire paths are not always according to the plans of the well intentioned.
This is a quote I read today in an article about “Desire paths.”
“You’ve just taken a “desire path,” described by Robert Macfarlane as “paths & tracks made over time by the wishes & feet of walkers, especially those…that run contrary to design or planning”; he calls them “free-will ways.” Robert Moor offers other terms, such as ‘cow paths,’ ‘pirate paths,’ ‘social trails,’ ‘kemonomichi (beast trails),’ ‘chemins de l’ane (donkey paths)’, and ‘Olifantenpad (elephant trails).’ JM Barrie described them as ‘Paths that have made themselves.’
Pass it onward!
Day Thirty, A long day
I have difficulties sleeping. The last few nights have, even without coffee, been a practice in very late nights very early mornings. The challenge of the realtor visits is that I don’t want to be here when they are. I can’t contribute anything to the conversation, the place is too small for multiple people, and I just know that the “perfect” me would notice things “Real Me” had not. Best to get out of dodge and go see the world.
This morning? Last night? It was around 6AM when I finally fell asleep. Although I’m exercising a lot more and drinking less coffee than I would at home, I’m struggling. I was in a deep, warm, comfortable sleep when loudspeaker’s loud chanting voices woke me up. The music was upbeat and sincere. The chanting voices were raised in protest against something. The only word I could make out was Pourquoi (Why).
I willed them to continue on their way, but they stopped right under my tiny window, played two songs, marched on with a trail of equally loud chanting. I’d been asleep for 4 1/2 hours. Ugh.
I checked the time and my messages. The realtor wanted to make a visit today and tomorrow according to the host. I really don’t like feeling displaced by something I wasn’t aware of when I booked this place. Meh. I asked if they could do both visits tomorrow instead. Nope. Both visits would be today but none for tomorrow. Hooray!
I looked up the department of tourism for Caen, Normandie, France. The website was in both English and French which was great, but one of the events I was interested in (A Science exhibition at the Universitie de Normandie) didn’t have an address. It had a great write up, which is why I became interested, but the address was the name of a road.
I attempted to call but the woman who answered the phone didn’t understand or speak English. She managed to request I call back in five minutes. I told her yes. I waited. At the appointed time, I made another call. Nope. Same woman. Two minutes more please. (What I actually understood was: Sorry, Two, Please.
I felt a bit deterred, but Dude’s I’m in their country, I should at least have a rudimentary grasp on the language. Baby words is how I describe the knowledge I have. It’s been a handicap but not a disability.
I was able to gleen that the Science Exhibition was taking place on Campus 2. Hey! I know that the tram goes there. I did a Twisto search and Voila! I got dressed, put on a sweater today (22 mph winds all day with spotty rain), and went to the tram station.
The tram was clean although a bit crowded. It was lunch time so there is a transitional period. As each stop was announced, I started to feel a bit anxious. Would what I’m looking to do be where I think it is? What if I got it wrong? What if it’s a different stop? The inner dialogue can get noisy.
Abide, Dude. You’re killing time anyway, what difference does it make when you get to somewhere you don’t know where? Eat when you’re hungry, drink when you’re thirsty, rest when you need to, but keep abiding. That’s what I kept telling myself and it helped me slow my roll(s).
The end of the line, route termine’. I exited the tram in the rush of students. They were heading generally in the same direction. I can see how people end up in a crowd mentality. It felt like I could hear the collective saying, “We know where we’re going. Follow us.” Obediently, I cautiously followed.
AHA! On the ground in red spray-painted letters, Science Exhibition this way! My confidence leapt forward. I was really going to find it! As the crowd broke off in different directions, I found another sign on the sidewalk pointing me on the path. The wind was wickedly blowing, a might bit of a sprinkle, but not drenching. I reached a fork in the path. I took a guess and kept moving forward. I walked around a large bush and I saw the sign!
I took a picture of the map. I used Google’s translator lens to figure out what I was looking at, and moseyed towards the first building on the map. I have learned that Pousser (POO-say) means push and tirer means pull. Sortie is the exit. I was feeling quite proud and confident at this point. That is until I couldn’t understand anything.
Okay, it’s science. Not my forte as a rule although interesting enough to rabbit-hole me at times. But, I was lost. There were no visual clues to what was being discussed. There was a lecturer and a crowd of teenagers mostly listening. I tried to pick out words I know, but no dice. I exited feeling less confident but more curious.
The map said that the different departments were represented by color code but as I observed my surroundings, I came to understand that the map was upside down from my perspective. I went in search of the symbol I understood. Music. It was marked in teal on the map. I came to the courtyard where there was another map showing my changed location, but this one wasn’t upside down from my perspective.
There was an information booth in the center. I asked for directions to the music. Turns out that the concert isn’t until Sunday night. Although I was allowed to experience the exhibits, be aware they’re all in French and today (Friday the 13th) was primarily directed at school aged children. Lucky me! I speak baby word French, so no problem.
I found a cafe inside a building labeled simply SCIENCE. Sounds legit. My curiousity grew as the displays in this particular building were more tangible, more hands on, more engaging. I decided to try again.
I learned that the large black dome-like structure was actually an inflatable planetarium! How freaking cool! Then I found a sandbox display to demonstrate erosion. That turned into a conversation with a knowledgable young man with dark curly hair and brown eyes. I spent the most time with him learning about the ecological effects heavy agriculture does to the environment.
Then he showed me the display next to his which deals in exponential micro-plastics. I can’t remember the name of the effect he told me (a couple times actually), but it’s like…if a fish eats one piece of micro-plastic, it could be okay. But the heron that eats that and 9 other fish is going to have 10 micro-plastics. The bear loves herons and eats 10. That’s 100 micro-plastics. It just keeps getting more and more. This is an extremely simplified version of what I was told, but the more we talked, the more concerned I grew.
SIDENOTE: I read a short article today about how the ecology of the planet has declined with as much as 73% of wildlife being driven from their homes, or eradicated all together. Roadtrips when I was a kid meant we had to stop relatively often to clean the bug butts off the windshield. As I’ve grown into the world around me, it occurred to me that I haven’t had to clean my windshield very much at all. I mean, their bugs, who cares? But bugs are food for other useful species, a necessity to the world.
With what I learned and that trivial bit of knowledge, I was feeling guilty that I contribute so heavily (although not as bad as I used to be) to the decay of our precious planet. But, I did manage to download the DIY plans for a micro-plastics filter for washing machines. Basically, it acts like the lint screen in a dryer works, only it captures the offending plastics that come off our clothing without our knowledge. I’ll see if I can figure out how to give you the link since I got it from a QR code. Does it work on American washers? I don’t know. I’ll have to make one and see.
Okay, exit soapbox. Thank you for indulging me.
I found several other tangible activities that I could understand and follow. It became intriguing to understand. A challenge that I met to my satisfaction. My confidence returned.
As I left the exhibition, the rain was coming down at a pretty good clip, the wind was blowing the trees so hard, they were bending and bowing in protest. I found my way back to the tram and rode back to Rue Saint-Jean. It was a great afternoon and I’m glad I did it.
Peace be with you wherever you are. You are loved!
Pass it onward!
Day Twenty-Nine, Palace and Mall
I know! I’ve been sharing with you all these wonderful places. When I went to the Chateau de Caen, there was just so much to see and share. This will be the third and final installment of what I’ve already done.
The white building
is where they held banquets and meetings.
It smells like age, it felt hallowed, it had bird
poop everywhere as well as their feathers.
The meeting hall is where they gathered. The stained glass window faced towards the East. The broken picture with the walls showing could feel the age it held. Even though much of the buildings that I’ve been showing you were destroyed by the bombings that took place in 1944-ish, they’ve been lovingly restored.
Why all the pictures of the floor? Because they weren’t just stone floors. They were carefully crafted of 3″x3″ squares with the brown broken up by the blue/green/and white mosaic tiles. I was impressed with the technique and the style. In addition, I could sense the thousands of people who walked those very floors whether they be nobility or a janitor. It’s an inanimate building, but I imagined the stories the history could tell if it were explained by the people who lived, worked, met, and played there.
The building on the lower left is the Meeting Hall. This picture was taken as I stepped up onto the castle wall to walk about and see the “world” layed at my feet. I wondered, since this is one of the larger palaces, what it must have felt like to keep watch from here. Pacing back and forth, ever keen for noises or visual changes in the landscape.
A bit of a confession. When I exited the Meeting Hall, I went to the right. I saw a path that led up a hill to the castle wall. I really got excited to walk about the place, but instead I ended up at the wall, not a place to walk it. As I wandered back down to find the right way to get where I wanted to go, I snapped these shots to give you a bit more observational points of view.
I’m not exaggerating when I tell you I couldn’t breathe at first. After having seen pictures at the Musee de Normandie several days ago, the destruction that was brought on this city was painful to witness. But like a true warrior champion, thriving despite the terrors it’s endured, I felt the resilience of the people throbbing with life. I didn’t expect to feel emotional. Curious, yes, but to feel the collective breath of humanity pulsing was phenomenal.
These pictures are of a keep being excavated. It dates back to the 11th century in some places. The round building is one of the corners. Around that is a freaking moat! I wonder if it were filled by the canal that used to run in front of the nearby church of Saint Peter.
All that and a bag of chips, eh? That concludes my visit to the Chateau de Caen, former palace of William the Conqueror. I’m glad that it’s taken me a few days to get through all the pictures I took because it’s allowed me to reflect instead of react.
Thursday, the twenty-ninth.
The place where I’ve set up shop until the 20th is for sale. They call it a condo, I would call it an efficiency apartment. For a person who travels a lot or who spends a lot of time at work/play, this is an ideal place for one person to crash. Live…I don’t know. It’s functional.
Because of the circumstances, a realtor has been bringing people by to view the place. Monday and today I’ve had to make myself scarce so they could show it uninterrupted. I’m totally okay with that. In a way, because the place is small and gets untidy if you turn around, it’s holding me responsible for maintaining a cleaner environment than I would back home.
My house in Tennessee is pretty much my studio so there are a variety of projects in various stages of progress in my organized mess. My cat is a furball so I vacuum more frequently that I like, but he’s a cute asshole of a furball.
ANYWAY!
I went in search of art supplies. I’m jonesing really bad for a fix of some paint on my hands. I tried looking up art stores and art supply stores but got housewares and home decorating shops. I thought a bit and tried looking for craft stores. TADA! I found one. Address in hand, I used my Twisto app to navigate. What do you know? Not only did Line 1 go where I wanted to be, BUT the stop was a half a block away! I did the tidy up of apartment and of myself, dressed (because nudity is not acceptable as a rule) and headed out to kill some time.
The ride was very city view. Twisto warned of protests in the city center of Caen that were possible disruptive of the bus service, although I didn’t notice delays. I rode to the end of the line.
Color me so very American because I was perplexed at what I was seeing. I even asked the conducteur if I was at the right place. He assured me I really was at the mall. I didn’t think to get a picture because I’ve never seen anything like it.
Think, strip mall made up of big name box stores (each with a separate entrance but not connected inside), surrounding a more American version of mall familiar? The mall was made up of a variety of shops and boutiques like what I’m used to. I visited a shop called “Normal” because…
Have you ever seen the videos of sheep being put through a chute to get sheered? That’s pretty much how this store was set up. A guided maze with products in white wooden sectionals towards the inside of the store, the walls holding shelves of products. The shop primarily sold toiletry items. Colognes, face masks, makeup, cleansers, bodywash, razors, lotions, etc. There were some things that didn’t seem quite right in the Normal store, but it wasn’t a bad experience.
Food courts weren’t a thing. It had casual dining places around the periphery of the mall proper. There wasn’t a central place where you could pick and choose from a variety of gluttonous gorging.
There are a LOT of hair salons in this town and in the mall. There are also a large number of lingerie stores. Side note relevance: Along Clinton Highway (25W) from inside Clinton (TN) all the way down to I-40 (near Knoxville) there are a ridiculous number of car dealerships both old and new. FINANCE HERE! is a common hawk. In comparison, there are as many hair salons here as car dealerships there.
Having walked the circle, returning to my entry point, I stepped back outside. I went to the left (East I think) where I found another store.
Context: I left my apartment at 1PM (7AM East Tennessee time). I didn’t get back until 7PM (1PM East Tennessee time).
I went into every freaking store they had. Turns out, I wasn’t at the right place for the craft stores. I popped (typoed and wrote that pooped) back on the bus which took me to a place called Mondevillage.
It was like a shopping community. An outdoor mall, per se. The middle of the complex had an island shopping area with a variety of restaurants, chocolate shops, toilets, and a security office. That island had a bus stop on each side of it, but each side was one-way. The next layer was parking lot broken up by color. Example: You parked in Rose 3 or in Aqua 4. It’s a much better system than the parking lot marking in American malls. You parked in…G7? H6?
There it was. The craft store. It had a list of things it contained. I could pick out beaux art, musical instruments, books, and a couple of other things. I felt proud of myself that I could recognize the names of things even though they were spelled out in French.
I entered the store and felt a bit confused because it was similar in style to say…Books-A-Million or a single story Barnes and Noble. Undaunted by the books I couldn’t read, I checked out a few things, browsing about.
Next I found the musical instruments section. It wasn’t as flashy as Guitar World, but there was enough to do basic instrumentation. I plugged on.
Need a planner? Agenda books lined shelf after shelf. I like the idea of making an agenda better than a day planner. It sounds more like you’ll get something done instead of writing it down hoping to cross things off a list you planned to do.
Next came a beginning art section. I didn’t realize it was beginner. Dude, I can’t read French as well as I’d like! But, I found a small set of paints, a small set of brushes, some graphite pencils, a small sharpener, and a gum eraser. The paper they had was in envelopes, not books or pads. I searched through, looking at the pictures that showed what the paper could be used for. I couldn’t find any that would work with gouche. I asked and was shown the correct paper to purchase. Hot diggety!
CHRISTMAS doesn’t come just once a year. It shows its ridiculous face in October here too. Meh. Don’t get me wrong, I’m fine with the holiday season. But, it should not be bleeding this far into early autumn.
I turned the corner and found a painter’s dream. I looked at what I’d selected, thought about what I already have back in Tennessee and what I would need bare minimum to get my “fix.” After checking out some of the pricing, I can honestly say, I was much happier with what I’d already selected. Less than 20 Euros too!
Okay, let me confess one more thing. The checkout line was rather crowded. Off to the side was a self-checkout. I thought, what the heck. It means I don’t have to use the translator to communicate. I can just ring up my stuff and go. I’ve done it reluctantly before, how hard could it be?
There was a security guard standing watch over this particular section. A good looking fellow with dark skin and a bright smile. I went to the one he directed me to, looked at the screen, and froze. A big red button on the touch screen had words I didn’t recognize on it. I looked around the area but didn’t see anything else. I pushed the red button.
I understood that it was ready for me to begin ringing up my items. I scanned each item and set it on the loading shelf to the right. When I’d done that, I wasn’t sure how to tell the machine I had completed my transaction and was ready to pay. I stared at the screen willing myself to understand. The security guard came over and showed me how to push the red button again. OY! I gave him a tiny yellow duck as a thank you.
My Twisto app kept crashing so I couldn’t figure out how to navigate back home. I deleted it, redownloaded it, signed in again and I wasn’t at the right stop. Are you seeing a pattern here? I sure as heck am!
I got on Line 21 which would take me to someplace around the halfway point where I would transfer busses and get on a different bus to get back. BUT! As I was following the location finder, the correct bus I was on, was NOT going on the route shown on the map. Crap!
Luckily, as the bus was turning, I saw the stop with the bus that I KNEW went in front of my house and back to the stop I’d first got on from. Thank the stars someone had already dinged for the stop. I got off, made it to the correct Line 1, waited briefly, and made an uneventful trip back.
What a glorious day. Tomorrow I’m going to do laundry, wash the sheets and towels, and relax. Saturday morning, I have to find something to do again. I’m thinking of taking the bus out to the airport to see what’s shaking. Or I’ll head to the Twisto bike stand and pick up a bicycle to ride around for a bit.
May peace be with you wherever you are. You are loved!
Pass it onward!
Interaction, a bonus post
He didn’t have enough, but I did.
He searched for resources embarrassed.
He promised to return, hurrying away.
I gave because I could.
It wasn’t much, less than 2 euros.
The cashier looked puzzled
but she accepted my gift to him.
In fact, she chased him down
while I waited, patiently.
I made sure he got a tiny yellow duck.
I made sure the cashier got a tiny yellow duck.
My spirit felt good and right.
He didn’t have enough, but I did.
Pass it onward!
Day Twenty-Eight, Nostalgic Contemporary
Yesterday I went rip-tearing about town on my happy feet. I shared a bit of my experience as well as promising to share more of what I saw and enjoyed. I have not forgotten, but I wanted to share a couple of things that happened today before we dive into nostalgia.
That’s the white horse from the place near my client’s home. She ran over to where we were and posed the question of our existence. I told her she was a lovely horse and she posed in the second picture. Bored because we gave her nothing but praise, she munched on the grass.
The stand in the tree is too small to be a treehouse and has blotchy type camoflauge on it. I’m guessing it’s a hunting stand. The people who own the house behind that stand have a large fenced in yard with a solid black gate to their driveway. It was open enough today to see a little dog, about the same size as my Porkie (Pomeranian/Yorkie mix). It was mostly white with brown on the ears and boy did it have a voice!
The last pictures are what I had for dinner. It was kind of set up like a Salsarita’s or a Moe’s in that you started with the dish size, then added sauce of your choice, then meat (or not), then you could add a side. I chose plantains. (They also offered vegetarian and vegan options as well). The man spoke a little English, but we mostly laughed and pointed. Laughing was because of my atrocious pronunciation of the menu words. I’m getting better though!
Now let’s do some timey-whimey stuff and go back to the yesterday.
Until around the mid-19th century, the eastern end of the church faced onto a canal that was then covered and replaced by a road. It’s spire is seen in several pictures that I took from the Chateau de Caen which is practically across the road from this ornate tribute to Saint Peter.
This is what I saw as I approached the Chateau de Caen. I wasn’t really aware that’s what it was. These sights are what grabbed my attention and pushed me to explore.
The castle is being renovated and excavated. A garden is being put in the courtyard. The paths are lined with fencing which guides you to the places you’re allowed to visit. This next video is what I came to first.
For 3Euro50 you can explore the permanent exhibits of fine art. I’m not particularly fond of the period that used black as the predominant color. I find them to be off-putting, but I did find some I like as well as a little joke.
There is so much more to show you, but I’m late in posting. I forgot how much I love the hyper-focus of production. I’m still learning how to use the tools I have, so bear with me. For a newbie, I don’t think I’m doing so bad at it.
May peace be with you wherever you are or go. You are loved!
Pass it onward!
Day Twenty-Seven, Can Caen!
I spent six hours walking around today looking at various places in Caen. I started out with no particular place to go, but found the Caen Castle. It was the palace of William the Conqueror. I have a lot of pictures to sort through for that one, so I’ll share those tomorrow since I have to work and most likely won’t get out much to explore.
As I ride the bus to work, there is a place called Moon and Sons. I thought it a clever name. I notice it quite frequently making a mental note to visit, but I didn’t until today. OMG!
The absolute enchantment of the place was gushing over my senses. I messaged my friend Jen and told her, we would hang out here. When I showed her several pictures via text, she enthusiastically agreed.
Sidenote: I’ve been working through Going With Grace’s The Living Practice. There are a few that I didn’t do because they’re not as important to me. But there have been a couple that have really put me in a stuck position.
- Who/What was your most impactful death?
- Who are you? (You can’t use: job, body, relationships, characteristics, accomplishments, possessions, or anything external to you).
I don’t know how to answer those questions. I could give knee jerk answers but these are deep questions. I want to answer them to my personal satisfaction. Quality vs. Quantity I suppose. As I ponder these two, I encourage you to consider them as well. AND, if you’re of the mind to try the course: The Living Practice (The link will open in a new tab).
Pass it onward!
Day Twenty-Six, High Horses
The title is misleading, I know. I read it and picture a couple of equine’s reclined while indulging in some “funny” grass. But it’s not about that.
Besides bouncing a ball back and forth, it’s my job to encourage my client to take walks to maintain mobility. Sometimes he gets cranky and will only walk in the yard which is not very interesting. And then there are days like today when we get to walk down the country lane to a side road that borders a field with four horses. I’ve described them to you, but today, I got pictures!
That last picture is a fire hydrant. The red top comes up and off. There is a cylinder inside. I saw some municipal workers clearing out the interior of one. It’s an interesting design. I don’t know how effective it is, but they evidently work because they get maintained.
While we walk, we talk about different things. His voice is quiet so I lean in to hear his take on things. He was genuinely delighted that the one horse was so close to us. I like when he laughs. He doesn’t do it often, but when he does, it’s magic.
I can’t see out of the small window in my small room, but I got brave tonight because I could see the sky. There is a short slanted roof below the window. The first picture is pretty much straight out the window. I angled up and down the street to see what it looks like. The sky was prettier in person. My fear was in dropping my phone while trying to see outside.
While at my client’s house, their daughter was in town from her bike-ride across Europe. She and I talked about how looking a fool is something you need to get comfortable with really quick because with the language barrier, charades is sometimes the best you can do. She disclosed that she also shops by picture and was slightly embarrassed that she couldn’t speak French as fluently as she thought she could.
She’s really a great human. I like her very well.
Why can’t we have nice things like this? This is across from the bus stop in the Cairon Commerces. To the left of this is a recycle and trash station. It’s clean, cozy, and peaceful. The horse that stared at me is farther to the left of this pictutre.
Peace be with you. You are loved!
Pass it onward!
Day Twenty-Five, Listen
You know, the church bells don’t sing here.
The cars pass by, the scooters and motorcycles whine
At times loud music stays long enough for a stop light
I hear youthful voices interacting in bubble-gum bursts
Males with raised voices gushing laughter at one another
The steady whir of the fan sets a background,
noise I don’t pay attention to for a while because
I’m listening to a spider win against the fly.
Pass it onward!
Day Twenty-Four, Chores
I was given notice yesterday that the place I’m staying is currently up for sale. The realtor would be popping by to show the place today, would I mind? Uh, well…since I have no real choice in the matter and I feel like refusing would jeopardize my current arrangement, Yeah, sure! A while later I was messaged with a Whoops, sorry. Rescheduled to next week.
Five flights of stairs is not a lot in the grand scheme of things, but I’m fat and tend to be sedintary if not motivated to accomplish a task. Hey, I come by it honestly, my mother is the same way! The idea of dragging anything up and down those stairs sincerely makes me consider exactly what I’ll need to do once I get down the stairs (THAT’s no problem).
- Take out recycling (Google image translate informs me that it’s on the ground floor)
- Take out the trash (Also on the ground floor)
- Do a load of laundry including towels (Ground floor and over two doors)
- Pick up some groceries (.2 miles away is the Monoprix Hypermarket)
- Get nail clippers and hand lotion (Pharmacie across the street)
I double/triple checked that I had all my dirty clothes and towels loaded into my handy buggy. I got the trash out of the can, tied off the bag and put that on top of the dirty clothes, securing the slide. I put the recycling bag handles over the buggy handles. Double/triple check, yup. That’s everything.
Grabbed my bag and keys, unlocked the door from the inside with the key… Pulled my buggy into the dark hallway, locked the door with the same key I used to open it from the inside…Open the stairwell doors and descend.
Down to the lobby where there are three doors. One goes to the outside. One doesn’t open. One reveals a storage area with a closed door off to the right. I open it because it will and I found the trash bins! Hooray!
I didn’t see a place for the recycling to go until after I’d dropped it into the cans I’d found. It was behind another closed door. Dudes, I thought about correcting my error, but truthfully, I was grateful I even found the trash bins.
I am not a graceful person. I’m large but unaware of my size most of the time. I don’t feel like I’m a size 20. In my head, I’m much smaller. I could be reading more into it than is necessary, but it’s rather magnified over here.
As I’m in the grocery store, shopping by picture, guessing at words, refusing to translate because I’d have to translate the entire store, I felt an ineptitude that I’m not a fan of feeling. It really snaps my awareness into a clarity about what it could feel like to be illiterate. I’m practically mute because although I can say simple things like please, thank you, good day, I’m sorry and my numbers, I’m ridiculously unable to do things I take for granted back home.
I’ve observed that the people I’ve interacted with have primarily spoken more than one language. They have at least a rudimentary conversational base which I am lacking in their native tongue. I feel small here. As if I could be quickly and easily forgotten. I want so badly to communicate, to let them (whomever that may be) know I exist. Maybe I’m like Ariel, wishing to be a part of a world that doesn’t belong to me. Perhaps.
Why did you get the emotional roller-coaster? It turns out that the laundromat is slightly different than the one I used before. I tried to will my brain to translate the words into ones I could understand, for some of them it did, but not enough to know what the hell I was doing. I didn’t ask for help. I just stared at the sign, trying to make sense of the symbols.
A young man, maybe 22-24, asked me in accented English if I were going to be staying long in France. Yes, until the end of the month. He suggested getting a laundry card and loading it. Instead of paying 4 Euros per wash, I’d only pay 3 Euro 60. Well, heck. That’s a pretty darn good deal. I followed his instructions. Voila! I have a loaded laundry card.
An hour for a wash. Yikes. I toddled across the street to the pharmacie, found nail clippers but no lotion. The woman behind the corner kept trying to engage me by asking me questions in French. I smiled and nodded, thank you I said. I tried to explain that I needed a small bottle of hand lotion. She stared back at me with an equally blank look on her face. I felt a little better. I relented and pulled out the translator (Why aren’t babbelfish a real thing?) A bit of back and forth and I tucked my purchases into my pocket-bag.
I’m reading a book by Jenny Swartz. Freddie Nechtow gave me the book “The House That Walked Between Worlds” and I finished that three book series. Now I’m on a new adventure by the author. Maybe it’s because of what I described earlier about illiteracy, but I don’t typically read for fun any more. I like to get lost in the world the author created. I like to ride the emotional pony around the imaginary carousel. It takes up a significant chunk of time which is why it’s not something I readily do. However, I sure am popping them back like illicit drugs trying to get a reader’s high. I returned to the laundromat and read.
After my clothes were dry, I folded them and stacked them compactly into the bottom of the buggy. I headed off to the grocery. The weather was gorgeous out, if not even a wee bit warm. But the sun, the people, the neighborhood feel of Mondeville created a sense of being. It was good.
I arrived at the store, picked through the aisles, collected my necessities, checked out, loaded up my buggy, and walked back a different route.
What steps I have traveled on roads past tense and presently, altared; a communion of daily lives exalted as the fevered prayers of the faithful knelt in the pews with bowed heads whispered words of conversations, of confessions, of wrong paths and right roads taken A map to their righteousness emblazoned on a rosary bead. I sit in the silence, aware. I wonder if their God would understand if I spoke prayers in English. I wonder if the forgiveness would somehow taste different or if the mercy would cold shower me with a condemnation... con-damnation? Instead, I don't press my luck. I return to the community I don't belong to hearing the voice of the God that doesn't speak my language. MM 2023
I tugged the buggy up to the top floor. I unloaded the groceries then my clothes. I texted with my friend Jen who is currently in an inconvenient situation. I dozed for a bit, then woke up to tell you my eventful/uneventful day. Tomorrow I plan to go to church (at 4PM here) so, there will be plenty to do while I’m waiting.
Peace be with you wherever you go. You are loved!
Mare Martell 