Legal to research

It doesn't look like much...a little yellow cardstock thing (which only looks big because of the angle and how close it is to my computer's camera!)....BUT this is the much-needed "Certificat de Scolarité," meaning that I am official here. I just got my student card and these things in the mail....so now I can proceed, once again, to the Prefecture to solidify my residence permit. Until Aug. When I will either go home or enter the process again. The coolest part of this card, for me, is that it says "M2 R Lettres modernes"....meaning 2nd year Masters in Research. I'm a jeune chercheur. A young researcher. Now I have to get off of blogger and get back to reading!

An interesting road ahead

I have started my second year's master's classes. I switched schools, changed programs even, and have been greeted with the stark and very real reminder that I am NOT in an English-speaking country. I say this because, in all honesty, I sometimes forget. The majority of my friends are anglophone...and those who aren't, can speak English quite well...and prefer to! In Paris, if you ask nearly any ex-pat if they are friends with more French people or more foreigners, they will laugh aloud as if you asked the most assinine question possible. Foreigners. Bien sûr! We find each other in this home away from home...we form bonds easily in our displacement. And we form friendships on a common language that doesn't leave us without great expressions, in which we can be completely ourselves, in which we can actually be funny! So I find myself speaking more often in English than in French. Which is too bad, of course, and yet when a French prof says that we must cut ourselves off from people who speak our language, I think there's no way that I would choose to continue living in this country if I didn't have my core group of friends!
All of this is to say that this year I'm no longer operating to any extent--academically--in English. I will also write this year's 100-page thesis in French. Argh. I worry about eloquence, I wonder if I can be nuanced, I fear that I can't be poetic or visual. Not to mention the extra time it will take to look up words I don't know, to find (or not find) equivalent expressions, and to ensure that my structure is "French" enough. I will have to find several readers/editors...I can't just sit down and let me ideas flow...and I will rarely be entirely certain that what I put on the screen won't, in some way, be modified, cut, or re-written by somebody whose French is maternal. But I guess the time had to come. I have to remain positive...and perhaps write myself a note on the bathroom mirror: "You are still smart in French."

Oh, the France

I could be a movie star, or a robber. I never know in this country. The other day I was walking home and several men on the street kept staring as I approached them. The one, holding a baguette sandwich, suddenly got an excited look on his face, and he hurried up to me and asked for my autograph. "Why?" was my natural response. Then the other two guys are looking at me, scrutinizingly, one saying, "Non, it's not her," the other, "Yes it is her!"...guy with the sandwich is still looking at me eagerly, says, "Well, you are ****, non!?" Non. I'm not her. I laugh, walking away, still being eyeballed. Then on Friday I go to my local Monoprix...it's a small and more friendly version of a WalMart here. Groceries upstairs, home/beauty/clothes on the street level. I grab my toothbrush, soap, mascara, head upstairs for the only thing I needed up there: a package of toilet paper. I was going to check out upstairs when I remembered that I wanted to find a water-filtering pitcher. So I went back downstairs. A plain-clothes guy approached me: "Did you pay for that already?" he asks while reaching over my arms to touch the pack of toilet paper. "Non, not yet." "Oh, well, you cannot be downstairs with that. You must pay for it upstairs." Hmmm. Okay. I had already inquired, when I was new to the store, if I could pay for items from the downstairs, upstairs. Yes, not a problem. So I tell this plain-clothes security man..."Oh, I see...I can carry things upstairs, but not downstairs." Right. I ask if I can just grab the water filter and head right back upstairs to pay. No. I was standing right next to the stairs...needing to go into the ailse RIGHT next to where we were talking. No. Not possible. You must go upstairs immediately to pay! Really!? Wow, alright. So I go...and he's coming with me. I ask him, yes yes yes, he must now accompany me to make sure I pay. Hmmm. Even wants to tell me which cash register aisle to get into! He waits at next to the cashier, he watches me, he then goes to walk with me back downstairs. He leans in and confidentially says, "You know, I really should have taken you as a robber, but I know you are not....so you just have to obey this rule and then we won't have to take you into security!" Wow, alright...yes yes yes, I understand now the rule, thank you very much sir, and no, I am not a robber. So I'm back downstairs, now looking for the water filter. A tall man with a "Security" sweater is now talking to Mr. Plain-clothes. Security dude walks up to me and says, "Mademoiselle, I need to see your cash register receipt." WHAT!? Are you joking!? I actually started laughing. A 6-pack of pink toilet paper was causing THIS kind of commotion? So then I ask him where, in the store, is this ever-so-serious rule posted so that the customers KNOW not to make such an infraction. Oh, it's posted somewhere. "But WHERE?" I inquired, now getting completely annoyed. Oh, but it's a rule. RIGHT, a rule that is NOT posted anywhere. I argued and laughed and finally suggested that perhaps they make the rule visible. And left the store. They didn't carry water filter pitchers afterall. But the worker in that department couldn't tell me that. She just gave me a "Pfff" and said she had no idea if they carried such a thing....I should just look around to find out! But then today I had a moment of redemption. I went to the outdoor Sunday market, and at one of the butcher's, I asked for chicken breasts. The butcher pulled out the whole chicken....threw it on the wooden block, and proceeded to whack off it's head, it's legs, and then dive into the center to extract the center white meat breast. Whew! I got skin and all, a few bones. But he liked my eyes. Thought I must be from the north of France. (Usually I'm mistaken for a German, so that was a completely new identity mistake!) So he gave me a champagne-corked bottle of blond beer! It's local to some region of France, though I don't know where. Perhaps the North. Just tucked it right in there with my chicken wrapped in paper.

And there is a Part Deux!

Summer vacation part two takes place in the States. It makes me realize, though, that I am completely discrediting almost 4 weeks of vacation in Paris! I can honestly say, though, that my categorical self almost blocked that part of my time, knowing that I still had my trip home to follow. So going home meant first going to Monterey, California, for my Mom and Paul's wedding. It was more fantastic than I anticipated! I was lucky to stay in the same hotel room as my mom...with Leah as well and Paula in an adjoining room. So we did our hair together, our make-up...drank wine, talked at night, and tried and re-tried different outfits together. I got to see the excitement in my mom as she awaited her wedding. And I think the second time is quite powerful. To say those vows to somebody after having lived them with somebody else. To know what they truly mean, to understand what that commitment entails, to be courageous and confident enough to make it work. My mom and Paul re-discovered each other, and I am so happy that they have both found happiness in their relationship. I didn't know necessarily how the marriage would change the dimension, but after having been home, I get it. I saw it. I felt it. So....going back, the wedding in California was amazing....

Then I was back in Wisconsin. The first stop was a trip to Lake Geneva to see my friend Steph and her now 5-year-old daughter Auden. This has become an annual affair, and it's such a joy to see Auden's growth each year. This year to see her start to swim, to ask questions about my family, to watch her act out entire scenes from The Sound of Music...she can recite poetry by heart, she sings Ani DiFranco, she even drove the boat. Then at night, Leah, Steph, and I sit on the couch or porch and sip a little wine, talk, and occasionally dive into the container of custard! I then had time with my dad, got to see his last softball game of the season, didn't help at all in the house he's working on, but I did help pick out two vanities, sinks, and fixtures! We made dinners, sat out by the pool, spent time at Crystal Lake, took some morning walks (though we both agreed, not enough of them!)...and had some really great and necessary conversations. I also played with my high school class in a fundraiser softball tournament. Leah sat on the bleachers with my dad, Mom, and Paul, as they all watched me strike out every single time! I also got to spend some time in Milwaukee with Josh...hang out in the Cholive headquarters, go out together, meet up with mutual friends of ours...and I even got to see one of my former students from LE. My mom and I also did our summer peach canning... And then for the first time in 12 years, I went to the Sheboygan County Fair!! The cows, I adore. Had to see them the first night with my dad. We also went to see my horse, Mac, and I almost cried when I walked into his stall. I bought him when he was 4, and he's now 22 years old! And still looking and moving beautifully! Then we found my cousins and their friends...people I knew from years back, friends I showed horses with...and we all experienced an Oil Can Harry concert. I can't remember the last time I drank so much beer, nor had so much beer spilled all over me! The only logical thing to do, then at 1 am, was to go to my dad's pool! I then got back to the fair with my mom and aunt...and we did all the animal barns (particularly intrigued by the poultry! what diversity!!), did the crafts barn, looked at the canned food and knitting and cases upon cases of breads and other baked goods!

And then I went down to Chicago. Leah moved into the most fabulous apartment...so I helped her unpack, arrange and re-arrange...we schemed about the best places to read, to dance, to talk on the phone, to watch the sun turn pink, and to, of course, drink coffee! I also got to make a trip to Indiana to visit Obadyah. His situation deserves its own posting...so I will save that. I got to see my old hair-dresser, Patrick, who gave me a fabulous cut...got to have dinner with cousin Nic, hang out with Heather Foley...and just enjoy time being with Leah in her environment.

Then merely days later, the Munsterer's arrived. They are my sister-in-law Molly's family! They all came for the Ironman triathalon in Madison....which my brother Jon was, of course, participating in! With cars packed full with coolers, food, cowbells, sneakers, layers, an outdoor tent and chairs, and even a megaphone...We carpooled to Madison, where Jon had already arrived and checked out the course with his coach, Pete. The weekend was absolutely amazing. Inspirational. Non-stop fun! We were such a good "Team Jon": Munsterer's, Becky (Molly's sister), Josh, Leah, Paula and Dan, Pat and Steve, Dad, Mom and Paul... of course the two yellow labs, Scout and Duke! Molly made us all matching t-shirts, and having loaded up on a carbo dinner, we were all ready to hit the course at 5:30 the next morning! Jon of course got there much earlier! With the sun rising over Lake Mendota, all the swimmers got into the water. It was like a sea of minnows when the cannon sounded and everyone spanned out across the water. Jon finished his 2-mile swim in an hour. Paula and I watched him transition from the swim to the bike...we all met up, and then drove out to our spot along the bike route. The bike was 112 miles...and we were at marker 45 and 90 miles. We met up with Pete, set up 2 tents...and then proceeded to yell and cheer and clap and dance...make human pyramids and do kick lines and ring bells for the next 5 1/2 hours to cheer on the bikers! I think Jon gave us the biggest complement ever when, after all was said and done, he said that we were the most fun cheering group along the entire bike route! Oh, we had energy. (And when that lagged, we went to the coolers for beer!) Then we went to downtown Madison where we caught Jon on at least 6 times along the marathon route. We kept on cheering, taking more breaks to sit on any grass or pop into a bar from time to time. But then 12 hours later, we all parked it at the finish line. Jon (still running!) came through at 12h45min. He did sooooo well! The sun had set over the capitol building, and there was music blasting...and Jon was so amazingly still full of energy! He had more than we did! We took photos and then went back to the hotel where none of us could even walk anymore. But Paul had brought celebratory champagne, so after getting Wendy's burgers, Jon and Molly came back to meet us all in the hotel where we opened champagne and re-invigorated ourselves by re-counting the days events...and asking Jon a thousand questions! The next morning we had IHOP breakfasts and thanked our stars that the day's rain hadn't fallen during the Ironman. And then I had to say good-bye. And it all felt very strange. To Josh the night before, to Leah after breakfast, and to Jon and Molly at the hotel. But it was the most fabulous way to end all of our summer vacations. Because all summer we'd all been talking about Italy...then California...then the Ironman. And when that final benchmark is over, a different reality hits. So next: Christmas!!