[Travel] Life goes

If they ever paid me to write a daily journal for a living, I’d be like Thoreau in a torn-up tent in the middle of heaven-knows-where now. I’m not so very up-to-date, you may say.

The Spain trip ended in February giving way to waves of midterm and essays in March, I thankfully did not drown, but there were some water-swallowing…Studying leisurely for 2 months and then all of the sudden, having to write a 10-page paper in French, History of French Art, mind you: Nothing to laugh about. The exams went eeh…yeah they went. You can only suffer during so much time, yet the papers were unlimited devices of torture because the amount of time I need would always be at least 5 times that which I would need for a normal paper in the States. As a result of this 3 week-long- seemingly-never-ending-drag, my daily habits changed…No more talks until 11 pm with my host parents, no more Dr.House in french, no more late-night leisure reading of which that pleases me. Dinner, unfortunately, still stayed late, which meant less sleep. Just me and my gigantic tea mug strapped down in front of German Expressionism, a distasteful style that became ironically more incomprehensible and unappealing the more I read about it. European Union and its enlargements served to be a more engaging subject for my second paper, yet, the eternity that it took me to do research and actually sculpt out that paper was enough to make me indifferent after I had handed it in.

Before I knew it, I was on the border of April, planning for the 2nd big trip of the semester. Last paper placed with a big sigh into my prof’s hands, last scribbles on the exams scribbled, I was packed and ready to do the typical Eurotrip with Amy. 2 weeks seemed mighty long and yet so quickly did they pass by. Eyes filled with fully-loaded 14 days of sightseeing, body flattened like tires overused, and clothes desperately yearning to be soaked in perfume…we returned this past Saturday. It never felt so great to lie in my own bed with a mug and a book, and oh, CLEAN pajamas, sleeping in only until my hungry stomach permitted it no more. Monday was a horribly out-of-it day for everyone. We need a vacation from that vacation…I need a recuperation from all that fun. To bring justice to those wonderful traveling days, I will tell them slowly and hopefully, with enough enthusiasm and memory, as if I wrote it the day of. Keep out for the next posts!

Coming back to Nantes was amazingly comforting. Traveling made me miss home like always, yet also, I longed being back at this city, with my host family, our lively dinners, a french speaking environment, an ambiance that has been attached to me for the past 4 months. It is after all my home in Europe, a place I do know well in this foreign continent. And then I find it shocking that I would have but 3 weeks to savor it. My friends here, having been hit by the same realization, are squeezing in all types of plans, and outings in the next 3 weeks…perhaps a boating down the Erdre, the river running through the center of Nantes, or a karaoke-night. Hopefully, we’ll have dinner together tomorrow after class. I’m skipping Grammar Friday, to spend a long weekend from Thursday with my host family at the seaside. They have been such an integral part of my life here, living alongside this family has pushed me confidently through my days here and learning from them was what made this trip an unforgettable experience. It’s unimaginable, leaving and yet, it casts its eeriness on me. I remember being disappointed each time my 3-day-camp ended each of the 3 summers that I was there…I can’t foresee parting ways with this 5-month life and all that it taught me. I look forward to being home, to start the summer…it is just too difficult to leave spring. Life, like a wheel, rolls on, I suppose…I’ll enjoy myself before it makes the full turn.


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