So with only one full month left until my departure, I've been reflecting a little on what I am going to miss once I take that train to Paris, and eventually a flight back to the States. It goes without saying that I will miss Colin, my Friz'Bisontin friends, my assistant friends, and the random assortment of other friendships I've made during the last seven months. And of course I will be happy to go home to my family and friends from Cincinnati and from Wake. But I thought it might be interesting for you (and a good reflection for me) to think about some of the more mundane and possibly less obvious parts of my life I will miss and which I will be glad to resume in the US of A. So, here is my (occasionally irreverent) list -- in no particular order:
Things I will miss about France in general, and Besançon in particular:
1. Boulangeries in general, choco-amande croissants and macarons
I don't know where to begin here. I feel like I'm just now getting down all of the vocabulary for the
boulangeries around my apartment. You would think it would be simple (
baguette, croissant, etc) but actually lots of
boulangeries use their own proprietary names for the varieties on a basic baguette. More than once I've gotten funny looks when I use another
boulangerie's term when asking for what I think is the same variety. I usually get "Ooooh, you mean __________." Oh well. The bread is delicious and I am thankful every time I walk home to my apartment with a fresh baguette.
2. The prices being exactly as they read on the menu/price tag
Why haven't we thought of this yet?! So simple, but so much easier on the customers! You don't have to try and do weird math in your head (7% tax * $3.99 for a sandwich yields *headache*). Maybe I'm just bad at mental math, but I don't see why we can't just adopt the system of including the tax in the listed price. It certainly makes things more expeditious at the cash register, because you can have your exact change ready.
3. Cheese
Saint Félicien is the current obsession, add it to the list of: 18-month comté, Roquefort, morbier, cancoillotte au vin jaune, mimeolette....
4. Seeing the Citadelle lit up at night
In keeping with #3, this one is super cheesy. I am ashamed to admit I still haven't been inside the Citadelle (don't ask, it's a long story or really a long chain of excuses). I'm certainly going to go before I leave, but until then I can enjoy a great view of the lights from my bedroom window, or anytime we drive by on the way to Ultimate practice. There's also a great view from one of the streets in Battant -- if I remember I want to try and get a picture from there before I go.
5. Beer (worth drinking)
Just to get things straight, I don't think of myself as a beer person. Sure, beer goes really well with certain foods, like a juicy burger, a German frankfurter or pretty much any Czech dish. But before these 7 months I wouldn't think of it as anything besides a compliment to food. Wrong! Welcome to the land of Belgian beer. With wine under control, the French don't feel badly about looking to their northern neighbors for some good beer (not that there aren't French beers, but I can't remember the last time I had one, or if I ever have, for that matter). Maredsous is the main beer on tap at the Brass' and the blonde (6) and brun (8) are, in the words of Brian Regan, "both favorites," depending on the evening.
6. Getting Carte Avantages Jeunes discounts on practically everything (or under 25 discounts).
This one is pretty trivial, but it does come in handy. At any given museum, movie theater, event or location which requires a ticket there is probably some discount if you're under 25. I guess this may be the case at home too, but I feel like it's more advertised here. Of course, this one will only be good for another year or and a half so for me, but I'm enjoying it while I can.
7. Horse-back riding
This one is quite sincere -- although the horses may not always be top, I have really enjoyed my weekly lessons at
Les Ecuries de Chateau-Galland. It took me a while to get back into the rhythm again, but now that it's nearly time to go I realize just how wonderful that hour per week has been. And now I have a whole range of French equestrian vocabulary!
8. Being able to journal on the train
Not having a car does have some advantages... like always taking the train. And while the train can be (relatively) expensive and sometimes long, it does give me a chance to catch up on my journaling, which I never seem to have time to do otherwise. And it's a great way to see the countryside, which is often incredibly scenic.
9. Bref.
A TV show (well actually a series of shorts) through Canal+, Colin introduced me to it a few months ago and I've become hooked. Each episode is only two and a half minutes long, which is good because the characters speak incredibly quickly and I often have to watch an episode multiple times before I understand all of the jokes. The first "season" just came out on DVD and I'm definitely going to get it before I leave!
Things I will be happy to go home to (in America in general, and Cincinnati in particular):
1. Stand-up showers
I know these exist in France, but my apartment doesn't have one, and I am therefore going to be grateful to re-enter the land in which stand-up showers are a standard feature.
2. Clothes dryers
Again, can I live without one? Yes. Will I be happy to have access to one again? You bet!
3. Certain goods and services not costing an arm and a leg (manicures, clothes)
It's common knowledge that the cost of living is generally higher in Europe than in the United States, and that is definitely true for certain goods and services more than others. For example: clothes. I was shocked the other day when an Old Navy ad popped up in my Gmail -- it was advertising some kind of "Everything for $4" sale. I challenge you to find a single item of clothing in Europe you can purchase for 3 euros (in a store, the market in Planoise may be able to hook you up). And I'm not even a fan of Old Navy, because their clothes often fall apart quickly, but even for the "cheap" clothes here, you can't buy them at that price. Another example: manicures. Obviously this falls under the "extras" category, but I haven't seen a single salon advertising a manicure for less than 21 euros ($27). I probably have had a $27 manicure before, but I usually pay half of that for one at home. Needless to say I've been doing my own nails here...
I feel it's worth adding that, on the other hand, there are some things which are considered luxury goods at home which are infinitely less expensive here. Really good chocolate might be one example, wine and beer would be another. Food in general, although it's more expensive, it's possible to have a "gourmet" meal here for half the price it would cost you at home. For example, Saturday night Colin and I went out to a restaurant called
Le Vin et L'Assiette. The idea is you pick your food and they bring you a glass of wine which corresponds with the dish, but don't tell you what it is until afterward. For the record, our guesses were totally wrong, but the food was amazing and the wine complimented it perfectly (although the proprietor might have thought of it the other way around). Our meal was the sort of thing Jean-Robert would charge an arm and a leg for, and although it certainly wasn't cheap, it was more accessible here than at home.
4. Not having to formulate and auto-correct my questions before entering a store or starting a conversation (and not having to worry about botching the tu/vous decision).
The "tu" and "vous" distinction still gets me sometimes, especially with adults who are clearly older than I am, but who I meet in casual contexts (such as, when Magalie's friend was there when Colin and I were invited to dinner). Or, sometimes when I meet someone who is clearly my own age, but who is a complete stranger. I think I usually get it right, but I've certainly gotten it wrong at least a few times, because I recognize the slightly-shocked expression which rapidly morphs into the "oh wait she's not a native speaker, it's okay" expression. At which point I cringe on the inside, and add that situation to my archive upon which I can draw in the future.
5. And along with that... being able to pronounce the words "frog," "fennel," "noodle," and "socket."
What do all of these words have in common? In French, they all end in "-ouille." As in "grenouille," "fenouil," "nouille," "douille." I seem to have a kind of block when it comes to producing this particular sound, and despite the efforts of more than one native speaker, I have yet to successfully produce it on my own without significant repitition first. If anything, it has taught me greater empathy for non-English speakers trying to distinguish similar sounds: when the kindly native speaker attempts to demonstrate the two different sounds (the correct one and my failed attempt), I of course hear exactly the same sound twice. "Can't you tell, it's the difference between
nouille and
nouille?" Ah yes, it's all clear now...
6. Spicy food, Thai food in particular
If given the choice, I would probably pick French food as the single type of cuisine to eat for the rest of my life. Luckily I don't have to make that choice, and I'm excited to have access to spicy food again (an type of diversity definitely lacking in French cuisine).
7. Being able to drive, especially on a summer night with the windows down
I hope I remember how, it's been 7 months!
8. Being in the same time zone, or a lot closer to the same time zone, as the majority of my friends and family
This doesn't seem like such a problem at first, but for my friends who work long hours, this has made Skyping nearly impossible (it doesn't help Steph and Charly go to bed earlier than I do, and since our walls are very thin talking on Skype would certainly wake them up).
And with domestic postage costing about 1/3 of the price of an international stamp from France, I will be motivated to recommence letter communication with Trey and Holly!