Such sweet sorrow

"I just want to say, I love this place! This has been my life and so it's going to be very odd, I think for all of us, because I don't know what my day-to-day life consists of without you--all of you--and it's wonderful. And I just want to say that I've loved every minute. And I thank you all very much."

The lovely Janette posted this video on Tumblr just now, which has the cast and crew from Harry Potter saying goodbye to the films. It's emotional and lovely, and Daniel Radcliffe's speech at the end just summed up everything I feel about leaving Aix.

It just doesn't feel right that we're leaving. Somehow Aix became my home these past weeks. I know that sounds lame, but the fountains and markets are part of my daily life now; I can't imagine being without them. I can't imagine walking down a busy street and not hearing French. I've become so used to these things, and to eating fruit and cheese and baguette every day. This was the summer of apricots and peaches for Cara and me, starting with our apricot juice on the first day. I never successfully ate a peach in class; I always got juice all over myself.

More than anything, I'm going to miss the people. I miss them already, and I haven't yet left. I wish I could be poetic about it, but I can't. Each time I try, I start tearing up and end up writing something heartfelt but terrible. I've deleted so many sentences. I love my friends here, and I don't know what else to say about them. I have this feeling that they're supposed to stay a part of my life for a really long time. I wish I could take them home in my suitcase and introduce them to everyone else I love. We've talked about reunions, and normally I'm cynical about those sort of plans, but I really do know that we're going to see each other again. We couldn't not.

Kevin, Janette, Kyle and me

Last night was a lovely end to the trip. I got dinner with Janette, Kyle, Kevin, Mia, Elle and Mel: we went to a restaurant called La Fontaine. We tried pastis (I loved it) and drank wine and finished eating at 11. Then we went to a bar called Le Manoir, which was a lot of fun. Our group changed throughout the night; Elle and Mel left, while the other Katherine, Brooke, Clara and Kim came. We drank and danced and talked about how much we love Aix. The bar closed at 2, and we went on to a club, which became more crowded as time went on. Finally we realized how late it was (with finals the next day!) and were heading home, when we decided to jump in the fountain. La Rotonde is, as Janette put it, "the biggest fountain in the city of fountains." I've posted pictures of it before; it is from 1860 and marks one end of the Cours Mirabeau. You're have to jump in the fountain before you leave Aix. (It's like streaking the Colonnade at W&L.) So we did, and it may sound mundane but it was beautiful. It was cold, but you got used to it. Janette, Kyle and I even climbed up to the second level, where the water was much shallower. Walking back in wet jeans after 4 am was completely worth it.

Recreating a classic at the Place de l'Hôtel de Ville

Today we had finals, which were fine. I never wrote about my classes; they were nice, although archaeology could be a lot of work. I loved my professor for Provence in film & literature. Professor Radulescu had told me to take classes specific to Provence, and I'm glad I did, because I got more of a sense for the region and for the city itself. At the same time, there are so many things I wish I'd done and seen that I didn't. I guess that's natural (is it?). I wish I had more time. I wish it were June again.

As Kevin said earlier today in regard to the archaeology final, "J'ai ramblé." I'm rambling now, with the fascinating result of having said nothing. I'm relying on quotes and pictures and stories because I don't know what else to put up here. I want to analyze how I was a big brave girl to go off into France all by myself, but right now I just don't want to leave and I can't think about anything else.

Remember this first picture of Cara, Kyle and me at Roussillon? Janette took it. It's still one of my favorites from the summer.

After finals, IAU threw a little farewell party with sparkling wine and cookies. It was nice to get everyone together so we could say a proper goodbye, but something felt off. We were trying to act like we weren't leaving. We kept hugging and promising to keep in touch, but we couldn't actually leave; it's hard. I'm used to sad goodbyes (summer camp!), but that doesn't make them easier. On my walk home, I got a song stuck in my head--and for once, it wasn't "La Force du Destin." It was "Be Back Soon" from Oliver!; at camp, we sing it at the end of term. The lyrics (to the camp version) are below.

Cheerio, but be back soon
We know somehow we’ll miss you
We love you, that why we say, “Cheerio,” not goodbye

Don’t be gone long, be back soon
Give me one long last “God bless you”
Remember this old tune... Be back soon!

We must not fear, we’ll be back here,
Today, perhaps tomorrow.
We’ll miss you too, it’s sad but true
That parting is such sweet sorrow.

And when we’re in the distance
You’ll hear this whispered tune...
So long, fare thee well
Pip! Pip! Cheerio! We’ll be back soon

When we were finally saying goodbye for real and walking away, we decided to say à bientôt instead of au revoir. Because à bientôt means "see you soon."

But let's not talk about fare-thee-wells now

Some of my favorites: Clara, Kate, Kyle, me, Cara and Janette

I'm getting nostalgic. I'm so comfortable being in France that it feels like it's been so much longer--but at the same time, it feels like I got here. How is it time to go home already? If I could turn back time--if I could find a way--I would, and I'd go through this experience again just to soak it all in even more. I've been living in France for six weeks and now I'm expected to just leave?

The entrance to Cézanne's studio

This morning, Cara and I went to the Atelier de Cézanne: the Impressionist painter's studio on the north side of town. To put this in context, today before class we visited the studio of one of the best-known painters of the nineteenth century. One of the painters who inspired Picasso (whose house we'd already visited). Life is so beautiful here! The atelier was great--they've left it basically how it was when Cézanne died. There was a huge window taking up most of the north side, and all his paintbrushes and props were everywhere. You can see Mont Ste-Victoire, his favorite subject, from the windows. We also walked around the garden for a while, which was lovely.

Tonight IAU hosted a picnic in a park on the other side of town, and that was nice. All the host parents brought blankets and dinner and wine. All the American students took pictures of each other. At one point, Kevin had six cameras on his wrist and it was absolutely hilarious, although written out it isn't as great. Everyone here is wonderful in so many ways. They're easy to talk to, fun, generous and brilliant.  I've said this a thousand times to just about everyone, but I love my friends here so much that I refuse to believe I've only known them for six weeks. (Don't worry, friends back home, I love you too!) 

Janette and Cara, who I love to pieces

I made a playlist of songs that remind me of this summer. I've already mentioned many of them in this blog, but the playlist currently consists of:

• "Prelude and the Sound of Music" - The Sound of Music. This reminds me of the beautiful day at Moustiers Ste-Marie, le Lac de Ste-Croix and in the lavender fields
• "Overture," La Force du Destin - Verdi. This is the theme for Jean de Florette and Manon des Sources. It's stuck in my head the vast majority of the time.
• "Belle" - Beauty and the Beast. Bonjour!
• "Don't Ask Me Why" - Billy Joel. "Now you parlez-vous français." Now I do!
• "Foux de Fa Fa" - Flight of the Conchords. Pomplemousse, baguette, daily life.
• "Habanera" - La Gloire de Mon Père. This is the theme for La Gloire de Mon Père, another movie we watched in the film & litt. class
• "Vincent (Starry Starry Night)" - Don Mclean. Van Gogh painted in Arles, which we visited the other weekend.
• "Hedwig's Theme" - Harry Potter. Deathly Hallows part two was beautiful, and I got to see it before anyone in America!
• "Sur le Pont d'Avignon" - Jean Sablon. I visited Avignon and there's a song about it.
• The Pokémon theme song. This is less obvious, but Kyle likes to sing it when he knows we aren't videotaping him. His stick figure character is a guy singing Pokémon; mine is a short girl with a bow, of course, and Cara's has curly hair.
• "La Marseillaise."
• "Mourir demain" - Pascal Obispo. I learned about this song in high school, but it's a great way to learn conditional phrases while completely rocking out.
• "Dog Days Are Over" - Florence and the Machine. Remember when I was having a few blah days? This song helped.
• "Happy, Happy We," Acis and Galatea - Handel. This is the great romantic duet from one of the operas Cara and I went to see, but its lyrics are mostly "Happy, happy."
• "You and I" - Ingrid Michaelson. This makes me think of the Luberon excursion: "Let's get rich and buy our parents homes in the south of France."
• "Hakana Matata" en français - Le Roi Lion. It's just great. I love Disney songs in French.
• "Carey" - Joni Mitchell. Something about this song sums up everything I feel right now. I keep listening to it on repeat.

My "extended host family": me, Martine, Jackie, Kate and Elle

The lyrics to "Carey":

The wind is in from Africa
Last night I couldn’t sleep
Oh, you know it sure is hard to leave here Carey
But it’s really not my home
My fingernails are filthy, I got beach tar on my feet
And I miss my clean white linen and my fancy French cologne

Oh Carey get out your cane
And I’ll put on some silver
Oh you’re a mean old daddy, but I like you fine

Come on down to the mermaid café and I will buy you a bottle of wine
And we’ll laugh and toast to nothing and smash our empty glasses down
Let’s have a round for these freaks and these soldiers
A round for these friends of mine
Let’s have another round for the bright red devil
Who keeps me in this tourist town

Come on, Carey, get out your cane
I’ll put on some silver
Oh you’re a mean old daddy, but I like you

Maybe I’ll go to Amsterdam
Or maybe I’ll go to Rome
And rent me a grand piano and put some flowers ’round my room
But let’s not talk about fare-thee-wells now
The night is a starry dome.
And they’re playin’ that scratchy rock and roll
Beneath the Matalla moon

Come on, Carey, get out your cane
And I’ll put on some silver
You’re a mean old daddy, but I like you

The wind is in from Africa
Last night I couldn’t sleep
Oh, you know it sure is hard to leave here
But, it’s really not my home
Maybe it’s been too long a time
Since I was scramblin’ down in the street
Now they got me used to that clean white linen
And that fancy French cologne

Oh Carey, get out your cane
I’ll put on my finest silver
We’ll go to the mermaid cafe
Have fun tonight
I said, oh, you’re a mean old daddy, but you’re out of sight

Southern food in the south of France

One of our first nights here, my host mom Martine invited her friend Jackie, who is hosting Elle and Kate, over for dinner. Kate mentioned, wouldn't it be fun if we did an all-American meal for them at the end of our six weeks? Well, tonight we did just that! It really was fun. Unfortunately, it was too cold to eat outside: it stormed today for the first time possibly ever, and was much chillier than usual. However, I welcomed a chance to wear my blue twill pants and justify the fact that I packed them.

Elle made sloppy joes; I made spoonbread, slaw and sliced tomatoes; and Kate made banana bread and chocolate cake. Our host moms provided the wine and champagne. I'm still full, two hours after I got home! My contributions were very popular, especially the spoonbread. It's an old family recipe that traces back at least to my great-granddaddy, but nobody seems to have heard of it outside of the South. Basically, spoonbread is cornbread but better, softer and in a casserole dish. My mom explained to me that the difference is, with spoonbread you scald the meal before you cook it (with the boiling water). Anyway, I'm posting all my recipes below in case you'd like to try them! What I cooked tonight was a little improvised, because of problems with conversion and measuring; I mostly went on what felt right, but it was a great success.

I love the potential food has to bring people together. Even though our host moms and Pierre, Elle and Kate's host brother, found the sloppy joes to be very spicy and the cake very sweet, we were all able to laugh about it and bond over it. It's so simple--everyone needs to eat--but also very powerful. And it was beautiful for me to share the kind of food that I've grown up eating (and seconds, thirds, fourths) with people on a different continent.

The finished product! I probably should have cooked it a little longer, but it was still delicious.

Spoonbread - my great-granddaddy's recipe

1 cup (160 g) corn meal
1.5 tsp (27 g, 15 mL) salt
2 tsp (10 ml) baking powder
2 cups (480 mL) boiling water
1 cup (240 mL) milk
3 eggs

Preheat oven to 400 (200 celsius). Melt 1 tablespoon bacon grease in a 1 quart casserole. (I cooked up bacon just for the grease, but if you're serious you'll save your bacon grease in an old coffee can.) Mix dry ingredients. Add boiling water, then milk, then eggs (fork-stirred). Pour batter onto hot grease. Cook 45-60 min. 

My slaw, with the sliced tomatoes hiding in the back. You can also spot the "American burger" buns and Kate's delicious chocolate banana bread!

Slaw - I just modified a recipe I found online, but it turned out great
1 cabbage (I used Chinese cabbage, since that was what I could find)
2 carrots
1 cup (224 g) mayonnaise
2 tblsp (25 g) sugar
2 tblsp (30 mL) cider vinegar
black pepper
mustard

salt (I used celery salt and no celery seed)
celery seed

Rinse and chop the vegetables; mix the sauce with spices to taste; combine and refrigerate until ready to serve.

How to peel tomatoes: It's so easy! Boil water. Submerge tomatoes, one at a time, in the boiling water for maybe 30 seconds. Let cool slightly and use a fork to peel off the skin. Chop them upside down for minimal mess. Pronounce with a Tidewater accent (tomah-tah) for maximum success.

London in the rain

They're changing guard at Buckingham Palace
Christopher Robin went down with Alice
Alice is marrying one of the guard
"A soldier's life is terribly hard,"
Said Alice.

I went to Buckingham Palace on Saturday, and they were changing the guard shortly after we got there, but seeing and hearing everything in the rain with all the tourists around was terribly hard.

Buckingham Palace

It was so lovely to finally get to London! It seems that all my friends were there this year: Elizabeth, Danielle, Dane Davis, Josh... even Anna and Amanda visited from Edinburgh at one point, and John Grigsby is there right now. Having seen so many pictures on Facebook, I was definitely excited. I left Aix on Friday, took the navette bus to the Marseille airport, waited, checked in, went through security, waited and drank some rosé, went through passport control to my gate, waited, got on the plane and drank the rest of my rosé on my way to Gatwick. I flew Easyjet, so I didn't get to pick my seats; I ended up on the aisle both times. I like looking out the window, but I don't know how much I would have seen since the weather was quite gloomy. However, my rosé was delightful (seriously, it's nothing like what passes for rosé back in America) and I made good progress in Manon des Sources. I landed in Gatwick airport and, after a long line and a bit of an issue at passport control, I was officially in London!

In case you're ever traveling to the UK, you need a permanent address or point of contact for your time there before they will let you in.

But it was worth it (I finally got away with giving them Rachael's name and phone number), and then I was in London! Rach met me at the gate and we took the train to Redhill, where she lives. It's right by London, but is technically in Surrey. Little Whinging, where the Dursleys live in Harry Potter, is in Surrey. So basically I was right by Little Whinging; be jealous.

Privet Drive (not really)

I met Rachael at the most magical place on earth the summer of 2009. It was the year I was head of archery, and she was one of the British counselors who come every year to work with kids and experience American summer camp. She was so amazing at her job that they came up with an award to give her. Rach came back to camp last summer, but I was doing my Shepherd internship teaching English to refugees in Richmond, which was quite the experience. We'd stayed in touch, and when she heard I was coming to France she convinced me to fly to England for the long weekend. I'm glad I did!

Rach and me at camp in 2009!

This past year, Rachael has been working as a sort of dorm mom at a state boarding school in Redhill. School just let out, but she was still living there, so we had tons of space to hang out in the dorm. So yes, I spent the night in a real British boarding school. It was basically Hogwarts. It was out in the countryside, which was really pretty, but a decent enough walk in to town.

For dinner the first night, we got fish & chips from a place in town and hung out at the boarding school until it was time to go see HARRY POTTER! I'd already seen it, because apparently it came out in France before it came to England, which makes no sense. The movie theater was in Reigate, which was just a few train stops away--it was very small and brick and cute. The manager came in and gave two speeches about how it was the end of an era with the final movie. It was so good to see it again, and I cried at all the same points. Absolutely brilliant.

Saturday was the big sightseeing day. I'm not even sure where to start. We saw everything: Buckingham Palace, Big Ben and the Houses of Parliament, Kings Cross, Hyde Park, Trafalgar Square (one of my favorites), the London Eye and the Thames, St. Paul's, Tower Bridge, the Tower of London, London Bridge and the HMS Belfast. What a list! We also stopped for tea and a kind of delicious cake called chocolate tiffin.

Look at my cute umbrella!

The rain put a bit of a damper on the day and the wind bent my cute umbrella out of shape, but we took the Tube everywhere--yes, it really is as amazing as everyone says. I have some strong loyalty to the New York Subway system, but the Tube is very well done. Plus, it played host to three of the most memorable moments:

1. We overheard a teenager (unfortunately American) explaining what a majestic cow is like. He then went on to say: "Well, more people get attacked by sharks, but you're much more likely to survive a shark attack than you are a cow attack. Have you ever seen a survivor of a cow attack?"
2. We--or rather, Rach--helped a very nice older lady figure out which train to take to meet a friend. I'm pretty sure she was American, possibly from New England. And now she'll go home to America and say how nice everyone is, which is lovely.
3. I saw Clara, from IAU! She was headed to St. Paul's from the Tower of London, and Rach and I were heading the opposite way. This is the third time I have run into someone I know in a major international city. (I saw some church members in the Musée d'Orsay and a friend from camp on Fifth Avenue.)

The cloudy weather did make for some cool-looking pictures! Here are some of my favorites:

I'm very talented.

London was beautiful, even in the rain. Even though by the end of the day I'd seen so much and walked so much, I can't wait to go back for longer and really get to know it better. Even though it was packed with tourists and souvenir shops, and felt just like New York in that way, the politeness set London apart. All the signs say things like "please don't play your music too loudly through your headphones; it may disturb the other passengers." How pleasant!

Rachael and I both zoned out on the train back; we were absolutely shattered from the long day. We had a nice chill evening eating pizza at her place and watching a British sitcom called Outnumbered. It's about a family with brilliant, smart-aleck kids who are always proving the parents wrong. There's an episode where they go sightseeing in London, and they saw many of the same places that we'd seen earlier that day, so that was fun.

On Sunday we got "Sunday lunch" for, well, Sunday lunch. It's basically a Thanksgiving dinner, with a roast (I had turkey), gravy and all the vegetables you can imagine. Just looking at the picture again makes me hungry, even though I ate absolutely all of it and couldn't have gone back for seconds.

Yum! We had a little more time to kill after lunch so we wandered around the local mall. I learned that there's this pedicure treatment where fish bite the dead skin off your feet. Terrifying. Anyway, then Rach put me on the train to Gatwick. My time in Gatwick was again a lot of going through lines and waiting. I had two pots of tea and finished Manon des Sources. I wandered through the duty-free shops and ended up in a bookstore, where I found books by my French professor! Domnica Radulescu has published Train to Trieste and Black Sea Twilight, but more importantly she is an absolutely amazing professor. She wrote my recommendation for Aix, and has actually taught theater at IAU in past summers. I hadn't read her novels yet, although I knew about them, so I bought them for in-flight reading. I'm already about 3/4 of the way through Train to Trieste--I just devoured it on the flight, and it was beautiful. It is really fascinating to really know the author whose work you're reading. I've read my dad's book, Whose Kids Are They Anyway? Religion and Morality in America's Public Schools, which I highly recommend, but it isn't quite as poetic. Professor Radulescu's book is about a love affair and fleeing from the Communist dictatorship in Romania and re-making yourself in Chicago as a political refugee, and it's just incredible. There are so many moments in the book where I hear her voice coming through, and it's just really cool that I found something my professor wrote in an airport in London.

I found my second W&L connection once I was back in Aix: a poster advertising an exhibition of Cy Twombly's work! (He lived in Lexington, attended W&L and visited often.) And it was interesting: I had a strange, sweet sense of homecoming when I got back to Aix. Mia said she felt the same way. I couldn't help thinking, "Bonsoir, la Rotonde!" when I saw the famous fountain. Everything felt comfortable and peaceful, like coming home in the summer or getting back to Lexington for O-week. It's amazing how in five short weeks this has become home.