Spring floating

If you have been following my blog (probably not) there has been a lot of negativity lately, so much negativity I have even amazed myself. It'll be weird for me to look at these posts years with the so-called wisdom I'll have.
So let me seize on the chance to be positive. Mostly to let you have a glimpse of why I've been floating in this country for so long.

Today was a day that could never happen in the United States. I got up early to go to give class to a private student in Thionville, a nearby town about 40 minutes or so by train from my home. It's a three-hour intensive class, so it's a lot of preparation added on to the early communte. I get there at 9:00am bang, I wait and I soon I receive an unexpected sms from my one (private) student, Brigitte.... no, she won't be coming to class, she has a headache and is taking the day off. Granted she writes this to me 10 minutes after the time the class would have started! So I feel shitty for having wasted all my time, and I was already stuck their because I had an afternoon class, even if I would still be paid for part of the time wasted. \

That is when I bumped into Nat, the other language instructor who says "no prob, just switch with me, just move your afternoon class up a few hours till now, your students are here anyway doing something else, I'll shorten my class with them too, and we can all take the afternoon off". At first, the little American inside of me thought.... no, they have plans for the morning, have projects, need to have lunch sometine, how would we find a room?, how would it work out?, is that possible? there is a little fraud there somehow... nah nah ni, nah nah nah" . But let it be, and so it was.... I ended up taking an open classroom in the school, and made a deal with my students that we'd do about half the time, no one would know about it, and we all could have the afternoon free. And if we had to blame anyone it'd be Brigitte and Nat! But actually so many people had taken the day off anyway that there weren't even any secretaries or assistants around. So this morning was kind of like organized chaos, everything was on auto pilot, you know... photocopy machine works till the first jam then puff, improvised attendance sheets etc. In the end, I made out better than if Brigitte had come, for a lot of reasons as you'll see later.... financially 6 hours of class in 2.5 hours, with 4 of them paid and a whole afternoon free! Floating in France can either bite you hard in France, or you can win big time.

Next, I head out and start walking back to the station. And what do I see? People dressed up like Halloween singing and drinking beer in the street! So I learn of the BAC carnaval tradition! The equivalent of Seniors in High School sporadically decide (whenever they want to) to play hooky (all of them), go party in the street, all with the excuse of protesting the fact they have to take the Baccalaureat, a hard, thorough exam at the end of their studies, to get their high school diploma. In reality they drink a lot of beer, make a mess and condemn the napoleonic tradition. OMG!

Arriving at the station, I find a crowd of disgruntled people waiting for trains. The SNCF train workers have gone on strike again!!!! Again, nobody knows why, no apologies, no info available. My 1PM train ain't coming! It's 12:35, so I thought, here we go again... I dodged one bullet and survived well, just to get hit straight on in the head with another!! But don't dispair.... what did I see? The 10am train, arriving late, going in my direction! No, I didn't have a ticket, but I couldn't miss the opportunity. I had to jump on that train, like my life depended on it! Who knows when the 1pm would have come. And no conductors, means I could actually get away with it. Even if there were, today was my day and there was no way in hell they'd get a dime out of me...

All in all, I actually won again. It makes you feel alive, and strangely productive. I got up on the wrong side of the bed and turned every bad situation into a success story. Yeah, I know it's pure luck, and it's really the same message as before. My life is floating on a cloud, normally a storm cloud but today a beautiful bright fluffy one. Whatever, it feels good, and speaking of clouds, the underlying reason for everything happening today, the real unspoken reason, be it Brigitte's blue flu, the changing of classes from morning to afternoon, my pact with Nat and the students, the Senior carnaval, and the train strike.... if a miraculous thing happened today.... after 9 months, the sun came out in France. Yes, Spring has finally arrived.. It's incredible really! Getting out of my train in Metz, I looked up, and gasped. Oh my God. Now if you live in Florida I guess you cannot appreciate this, but in France this is really unexpected, because the weather is so terrible almost all of the time. So this was as close to being touched by the hand of God that you every possibly humanly imagine. Then you realize what the century old legends of Springtime in Paris and the beauty of France is about. You suddenly see flowers everywhere, geraniums, nacissus, lilies, green trees, think lawns. You hear the sweet sound of river water slowly floating downstream as you slowly saunter over the bridge. You notice the sunshine ricocheting off whitewashed buildings built centuries ago, gone with the winter coats, on with the miniskirts. The artists and wannabe artists are painting outdoors. Everyone seems to be in love with life and each other, walking, holding hands, running, rowing boats gently across the lake, sunbathing on benches everywhere. The French are just enjoying life and laughing (yes even laughing in France, it does exist), and, sipping those tall glasses of rosé wine in outdoor cafes, and of course, you bump into everyone you've ever met, and celebrate together, for of course, but of course, nobody is working, every bogus excuse is good for for being out, about and alive.

Rontay, Rontay, Rontay, Rontay, Rontay, Rontay, Rontay, Rontay, Rontay, Rontay, Rontay, Rontay, Rontay, Rontay, Rontay, Rontay, Rontay, Rontay

Easter Sunday 2010

Well, here I go again. Another doomy blog. Honestly when I set this up, I thought I would be posting lots of cool things but it turns out that I'm using my space here to vent out my frustrations and organize my thoughts. Easter Sunday is only good I guess if you're a child, have children, are part of some big family, or perhaps are the really religious type. I do have fond childhood memories of the Easter bunny, chocolate eggs, Easter egg hunts and all that stuff. We all used to get dressed up in new clothes, usually white, my mom always said it was the time of year you put away your winter wardrobe and got out your summer one, and if necessary go on shopping sprees to get new outfits and show them all off.... to people at church.... to people around town... to cousins and aunts.... why was this custom so important? And after mass, and egg hunts and easter bunnies, there was always some big feast with a smorgasboard (no idea how to spell that omg) but I do remember there was always ham and deviled eggs, with cranberry juice served in itsy bitsy glasses. Later we'd make the day of it, go to a horse race I think, take a promenade along the river or walk through some nicely mowed park to check out the flowers that were about to bloom. Yeah, Easter! Traditions? Why am I getting so nostalgic? I honestly didn't even think about all that stuff till right now.
It's just because I guess, whatever, if you're alone, and living in France it really sucks! It is still cold, still rainy, there is nothing to do, everything is shut, everyone has disappeared lord knows where, no sign of any resurrection here. Sigh!
The real coup de grace for my morale was the phone call to my parents at the nursing home. I'm not the only one sad and alone, but at least they don't even remember that everything that characterized their life for so many years and was so important for them, is gone.... Today my mom was brain dead. I really tried to have a conversation with her. I ended up sounding like the cop interrogating a suspect that just would not answer. So what this and what that and when and where and how and why? All I could get from her was a uh-huh, yes honey, and a few I don't knows. It's terrible to get like that. As for my dad, well, he was talkative today. But I've got to follow him into wonderland. Nothing he says is even remotely connected to reality. But I got a half hour out of him, going from navy stories, to WWII, to car accidents in the 1960's that might (not) have really happened, to conversations with nurses and guests and doctors that might (not) be real, to family gossip, and future plans, and his vision of reality.... all of which is completely bogus, I think. Talking to him confuses me so much, but I happily followed him into his world. Nobody else will. I owe him that.
So, all of this musing brings me back to the point/doubt/idea that has been in my mind unanswered for several months now. Could I possibly return home, take them out of that nursing home, move in with them in their old house, take care of them (with all that entails and implies... getting them up and dressed, maybe bathing them, certainly given them shots, medicine, cooking, cleaning etc. etc.) indefinitely? Sigh. sigh. It would please them, it would please others, maybe it would please me too?, it wouldn't please my sister(s) but f*** them. Just maybe it would have good results, just maybe it would be a success story, maybe a bit of love and care from me would do wonders. It would at least save them from losing all their estate from greedy health care workers... Just maybe, this is the right decision to take and the right thing to do.... But just maybe also, I would fail... I'm not a nurse by any exaggeration of the term. Giving shots of insulin? Well, terrifying as it might be I could do it. Restraining them if they want to leave, how aweful. Just maybe 24/7 looked in a house with them would kill me before them. So I here we are again with my yes, no, maybes. Wouldn't it be nice? Literally or sarcastic?
Easter Sunday in Metz, France 2010. Great
Rontay