While the weather didn't know what to do, I was moving from the south to the north & west and back. A second visit this year from home got me busy for the past few weeks & I have mixed feelings on recovering our apartment's regular stillness & ordinary routines. It's really easier to crave for solitude than having to go over in getting used to silence again. And tasting home again is such a sweet comfort - having it twice in a year is like a candy store window you know you cannot have. Below, me & Jeanette in Basilique Sacré Coeur Paris.
Going to Paris for a couple of days got me bummed out - the metros, the crowds, the capricious weather - but seeing my sister-in-law & her mom is the only delight of Paris - I get to make Jeanette kulit again just like the old days. Apparently, we had an exceptionally warm weather in Paris that made walking more unbearable. Following the usual route from Paris, we were welcomed by the rain & cold in Lourdes. On our way back to Marseille, we had to make an unexpected detour. After being consumed by Paris & the drenching rain of Lourdes, I was never this frantic in being home. Arriving Toulouse, my left shoe's sole tore open, the train arrived, we got in, changed my shoes - in the train heading to Bordeaux. We were 20 minutes too early for the right train & the most expensive mistake I made (after 6 years of taking the train), especially if you happen to get a controller who is a total asshole. I'm boycotting any train trips for now, or until I'm able to laugh at my impromptu visit to Bordeaux.
Then there's the reconnection to the past & how the versions of yourself resurfaced. The random reminders of how you changed & how you actually miss your former versions. The bridging to your one true home & how things will only be better if you're there to see it for yourself. On how my titas cry when they go, touched by the thought that I am so far away from family. The thing is after they've left, there was this impending hole - masked by their visit - that has been threatening me long before. What am I going to do after they leave? It's so exhausting to go over things again, justifying my neverending plans, or rather fears, and those nuits blanches that ties my stomach inside out. Those knots that remind me of my frustration when things don't go the way I hoped them to be. I am a prisoner of freedom now so uptight with normality just because I don't happen to have all the things I consider important in life. When you know exactly what you want but just couldn't have & you need to change plans. Sometimes we just receive little doses of life but potent enough to paralyze us for a moment.
Going to Paris for a couple of days got me bummed out - the metros, the crowds, the capricious weather - but seeing my sister-in-law & her mom is the only delight of Paris - I get to make Jeanette kulit again just like the old days. Apparently, we had an exceptionally warm weather in Paris that made walking more unbearable. Following the usual route from Paris, we were welcomed by the rain & cold in Lourdes. On our way back to Marseille, we had to make an unexpected detour. After being consumed by Paris & the drenching rain of Lourdes, I was never this frantic in being home. Arriving Toulouse, my left shoe's sole tore open, the train arrived, we got in, changed my shoes - in the train heading to Bordeaux. We were 20 minutes too early for the right train & the most expensive mistake I made (after 6 years of taking the train), especially if you happen to get a controller who is a total asshole. I'm boycotting any train trips for now, or until I'm able to laugh at my impromptu visit to Bordeaux.
Then there's the reconnection to the past & how the versions of yourself resurfaced. The random reminders of how you changed & how you actually miss your former versions. The bridging to your one true home & how things will only be better if you're there to see it for yourself. On how my titas cry when they go, touched by the thought that I am so far away from family. The thing is after they've left, there was this impending hole - masked by their visit - that has been threatening me long before. What am I going to do after they leave? It's so exhausting to go over things again, justifying my neverending plans, or rather fears, and those nuits blanches that ties my stomach inside out. Those knots that remind me of my frustration when things don't go the way I hoped them to be. I am a prisoner of freedom now so uptight with normality just because I don't happen to have all the things I consider important in life. When you know exactly what you want but just couldn't have & you need to change plans. Sometimes we just receive little doses of life but potent enough to paralyze us for a moment.
There would always be a lot of convincing before I join clubs or associations. I did have a couple of clubs at school although I was always the last to join. Now, I find myself being one of the founders of our little Asian corner, Les Amis de l'Asie (friends from Asia). Last saturday, we had the Forum of Associations here in Carry where we had the chance to introduce our association just created early this year. Below: The Forum des Associations at the Carry Port, Place Jean Jaurés. Photo from Carry le Rouet official site.
The association for now has three nationalities: Filipino, Vietnamese & Malgash (Madagascar). During the forum, people would come & talk about their trips to China or to Thailand. Some would even strike up a conversation in Chinese. Only a few would speak about the Philippines, or even first ask our nationality. For the majority, Asia is China for the French & it was our sole reason to have a map of Asia on our table. Wouldn't it be a bit strange for the French to find an Asian association without a Chinese member? Below: At our booth, Malou, Kala & me during our shift, we had adobo & fried rice for lunch.
As of now, the association welcomes new arrivals, offers Asian cooking classes & culture discovery. Chinese courses will follow because it was the most demand. Although a lot of people are not interested with anything Asian in our little town, there are some with so much passion for Asia. A kick off for an association like ours is difficult especially in our area but I believe it'll be a surprise, a little treasure if you will. When I moved here, I was looking for an association exactly like ours.
My mom has always been a smart dresser. According to my titas, she would sometimes buy fabric to make into a dress instead of buying food. Being the youngest & the only girl, we used to wear a mother & daughter terno when I was younger. She would force the boyish rug rat I am into wearing jewelry & dresses when all I want is the same Tretorn rubber shoes as my brothers. You could say that I was a late bloomer & started being more girly when I went to college.
"You don't look like you came from France!" I remember my mom telling me when we went home in 2004. I purposely wore the exact same clothes when I left for France 4 years prior & it made me feel good. But the remark was quite puzzling. How does a balikbayan supposed to look?
Looking through the new photos of my friends way back in highschool & college in Friendster has always been fun & surprising. Some you can't recognize, others are amazingly transformed not only physically but also in life. In short, there was an apparent change. And I wondered about my own physical evolution - in what way is it apparent to them?
As much as a comment like, "Grabe, you never changed, ganon pa din looks mo since you left..." from a friend I didn't see for 4 years is not so significant as "You still look the same!" from a friend I didn't see for 20 years. Really makes you wonder if it's a good thing or not. And the idea that your sense of style & complexion normally follows when you change country is evident - more expressive in make-up & clothing & pale skin. My mom likewise told me that I looked better when I'm pale & I have always loved sunbathing & getting a golden color.
My style in clothes has always been discreet & classic. I have never been expressive in make-up nor in the way I dress. My aunts told me that I look younger without make-up & I just occasionally put some because I am too lazy to wash it off before going to bed. From branded clothes & shoes before I got married to total generic filled cabinet & shoe rack - my discreet black shirt doesn't need a brand & I am seriously thinking of putting more colors in my cabinet.
Change is evident. It is growth. We cannot look the same as 20 years ago. But I'll never know why it is always expected in a new place & after a long absence. Maganda siya ngayon. Does it really say something on where we are in life?
"You don't look like you came from France!" I remember my mom telling me when we went home in 2004. I purposely wore the exact same clothes when I left for France 4 years prior & it made me feel good. But the remark was quite puzzling. How does a balikbayan supposed to look?
Looking through the new photos of my friends way back in highschool & college in Friendster has always been fun & surprising. Some you can't recognize, others are amazingly transformed not only physically but also in life. In short, there was an apparent change. And I wondered about my own physical evolution - in what way is it apparent to them?
As much as a comment like, "Grabe, you never changed, ganon pa din looks mo since you left..." from a friend I didn't see for 4 years is not so significant as "You still look the same!" from a friend I didn't see for 20 years. Really makes you wonder if it's a good thing or not. And the idea that your sense of style & complexion normally follows when you change country is evident - more expressive in make-up & clothing & pale skin. My mom likewise told me that I looked better when I'm pale & I have always loved sunbathing & getting a golden color.
My style in clothes has always been discreet & classic. I have never been expressive in make-up nor in the way I dress. My aunts told me that I look younger without make-up & I just occasionally put some because I am too lazy to wash it off before going to bed. From branded clothes & shoes before I got married to total generic filled cabinet & shoe rack - my discreet black shirt doesn't need a brand & I am seriously thinking of putting more colors in my cabinet.
Change is evident. It is growth. We cannot look the same as 20 years ago. But I'll never know why it is always expected in a new place & after a long absence. Maganda siya ngayon. Does it really say something on where we are in life?
In changing wardrobe, will my mom tell me next year, "Wow, you really look like you came from France!"
When it came in late & after our almost a month long heatwave, the mistral breezed in & never left - summer is over. Although we didn't plan much of a getaway this year, we never pass up a chance to discover more of France's unbeaten tracks, void of pure tourists.
After a bit of Paris, the Cote d'Azur & the Pyrenees over the past years, the valleys of the Auvergne region (center-south) allured us for two reasons: 1) I wanted to see the great Viaduc de Millau & 2) Aurillac can only be reached by little roads (national & departmental) after Millau. The region is abundant of castles & typical little towns. It is the only region that has five official cheese. Again, France is truly one beautiful country with so much history.
After a bit of Paris, the Cote d'Azur & the Pyrenees over the past years, the valleys of the Auvergne region (center-south) allured us for two reasons: 1) I wanted to see the great Viaduc de Millau & 2) Aurillac can only be reached by little roads (national & departmental) after Millau. The region is abundant of castles & typical little towns. It is the only region that has five official cheese. Again, France is truly one beautiful country with so much history.
The Viaduc de Millau, one of the world's megastructures & the highest bridge totalling to 336.4 meters high & 2.5 km long. Below, the cheese all over France in the Marché aux Fromages built in 1890.
Aurillac is a small town in the Cantal department of the region that goes back to the 9th century. The town is likewise known for it's Festival d'Eclat, theaters & street animations since 1986. It was my first time to explore this kind of festival & it was hard not to be hypnotized by the spirit of various arts, originality & expressions.
The living portrait, the semi-political Belge & my favorite, the groovy stickmen.
The trolls, the moving piano & the guy with a box, really funny!
There is so much to discover in this region that you can find car routes to visit one town to another. We had to pass the Route de Fromage (cheese trail) for lack of time but we took time to visit the little town built around a Benedictine Monastery in Conques, dating back to the 8th century. We also learned that the region is known for religious pilgrimages. It truly is one of France's greatest treasures & considered as a Grand Site.
The monastery surrounded by the town with its typical roof made of lauzes (think local slates made of rocks). The town only has one ATM macine, some shops don't have phones & it is still spared of commerce & extravagant tourist traps. It is well conserved in the middle of nowhere.
France, and the rest of Europe is a history & culture overdose. We have yet to take a peek in the east & north of France. Although we exploded our budget for this year's summer, it was all worth it & France has proven once again how they conserved a country that is definitely enthralling. And my appreciation of the beauty & France is growing everytime summer ends. If only I could replace all the pine trees by coconuts.
I am a crazy good samaritan
While I was busy blogging awhile ago, my neighbor infront knocked on our door. She was telling me that she left her other set of keys in the keyhole from the inside so she couldn't open it.
Me: Vous voulez telephoner quelq'un? (You want to call somebody?)
My neighbor: Tsk, sighs.
Me: Est-ce que vous avez laisser la porte de salle de bain ouverte? Comme ça on peut passer par la? (Did you leave your bathroom door open? So we can pass by the balcony.)
My neighbor: Eh, non. Tsk, sighs.
Me: Going to other side of the balcony. C'est dangereux par la et c'est loin de votre balcon. (It's dangerous here & it's far from your balcony.)
My neighbor: Tsk, sighs.
Me: Bon, d'accord. Est-ce que la porte de votre balcon est ouvert? (Fine, ok. Is your balcony door open?)
My neighbor: With a million dollar smile. Oui, c'est ouvert! (Yes, it's open!)
Me: Crazy in my head went. Je vais. (I go.) This is what I crossed over, pressed on the building wall, to help her open her door:
My neighbor: Mon Dieu, comment j'ai eu peur. Je vous embrasse. Merci beaucoup. (My God, how I was scared. I give you a kiss. Thank you so much.) Il faut pas dire a quelq'un quelque chose comme ça. Ca reste entre nous, hein? (We shouldn't tell anybody something like that. It's between you & me, huh?)
And instead of just sighing, she just couldn't tell me to do it. I smiled & when I closed our door, I was still shaking. Although we were just on the first floor, the idea of making a circus act still gave me cold feet. What the hell was I thinking?!
Summer is the busiest season in France where you will find yourself doing the same thing as everybody else - moving around. Not only that there are so many displaced people everywhere, a silent tension is also present mainly due to the heat & the crowd. Summer crammed within a two month period is part of the holiday craze. Italy-France (to Gap) border.When home is a tourist spot. Carry le Rouet is a small, typical barrio by the sea in the south of France where the calanques are the only main attraction. Due to the heat wave, we have more local tourists this year & living here is a total nightmare. As our apartment is situated right in the tiny center town, everybody that goes in & out of Carry passes right in front of our windows. For two whole months (and a couple of weeks more), we witness our little barrio come to life from morning till midnight. Noisy teenagers, crazy drivers, honking cars, and I've already received a finger from a teenybopper. At 11pm, parking is still a problem even in our building's private parking filled with visitors of a friend of a friend of a friend. But the good thing about living here is that we get to be quiet at least 9 months in a year.
From France & beyond. Thanks to the EU, moving around Europe has never been as easy. The first time I crossed the border of France & Belgium, I was ecstatic. Coming from a country that shares no borders, the thought of having the option to visit at least 25 countries to date by merely an automobile ride was amazing. Road trips on different countries are already a sight in itself - France is one truly crazy country for speed limits & radars, not to mention the very pricey toll charge. I don't remember any tollbooths in Germany, Swtizerland works by "vignettes," valid for a year for 25€, Spain & Italy has reasonable road passage fee. And France border is also known as the most bustling border cross. Last weekend, while crossing France-Italy border via Ventimille, traffic was horrible in entering France. The only country I experienced border check aside from France is Switzerland via Geneva & Locarno. I suppose it says a lot on the relationship of what one country has to another & I wonder. The only one thing that makes me love the roads of France is the aire de repos (resting place some with picnic area, or restaurant, or gas station but always with public rest rooms) - there are 596 for every 30 kms or more in autoroutes (freeway). There's your toll charge.
Aire de repos
From the tropics to Europe. Europe is a vast variety of culture & differences from border to border. But there will be little things that will remind me of home. Now that it's summer, road trips remind me of family vacations - fresh fruit stands by the road, halo-halo, dirty ice cream, ripe mangoes & watermelons on the beach. Then there are getaways with friends. Ah, the magic getaways with friends. Last weekend, we were at a friend's surprise party in Switerland that became the familiar party I used to go to - se lacher (to let go) - except I couldn't just let go even if everybody was. Is it the ambiance? Is it the level of familiarity?
Open air candlelight dinner in the BRRR Swiss mountain
Well, one thing is for sure - never pass a chance to move around. It is the only moment where you truly know where you want to be. After 6 borders or so, France is beginning to grow on me but I still want to grow old in the Philippines.
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