What it really is, I think, is a desire to share. Though I've had basically two modes of communication thus far, neither have been exactly receptive, to say the least (my journal and my roommate, who is British). It feels nice to finally be in control of my communication situation. Some details on on my life in France thus far:
Getting here was almost a nightmare. My plane in Frankfurt was an hour late; I got lost in Gare du Nord in Paris; I almost missed my high-speed train; I was defected on by a sparrow; I took an embarrassing tumble (with my backpack on) at the airport. I was also in possession of a duffel bag, a backpacking pack, a rolling suitcase, and a violin. Plane-plane-shuttle-subway-train-train-car. At least I had this countryside to calm me down:
What I later learned was a relaxed attitude, rather than ineptitude, prompted my French "caretakers" to leave me at my apartment doorstep Thursday night and remain out of contact until the following Monday. They wanted me to settle in; I understand now. But I was pretty unhappy with that arrangement, and so took things into my own hands the next day: I visited my school, talked with the Internet guy, emailed my boss, made some French acquaintences, got a bike (I get to pick it up tomorrow!). I've been here for scarcely a week, and have already gotten my schedule, attended an orientation meeting, met all my teachers and students, filled a prescription, visited the music school, and arranged to ride some lady's horse for her. I plan on opening my bank account tomorrow.
And all of this in French! It's been pretty difficult at times, especially when trying to convey personal, complex thoughts and emotions like being nervous about something or feeling a bit down in the dumps. But my language skills have improved immensely, and I have no idea how I got through college French at all without having experienced language immersion like this before. I actually enjoy it very much, and it's certainly a confidence booster being able to have a lucid conversation with someone in another language.
This is the view from my window:
It's really incredible here. The mountains are beautiful, there's a huge lake in the middle of my town, the water is delicious. Everything is made locally, including munster cheese (the actual town of Munster is quite close) and wine (less than 3 euro for a bottle!). I'm continually blown away by the quality of life in Gerardmer, and the ease with which people float along from day to day. (I can't really attest for the people of France themselves; I'm sure there are some who aren't quite as chill.)
I'm finally beginning to feel settled and content living here. The first few days were, to my surprise, quite difficult for me. I can't say that I've ever fully experienced homesickness until now -- when I'm living in a tiny town in the mountains in which everything is closed on the weekends or after six, when no one speaks my language, when I have no mode of international communication, when I have barely any direction as to where or when I have to set up this "job thing" for which I'm supposedly in France. I was embarrassingly lonely.
To my relief, I had some sort of epiphany the other day while jogging, and feel much better now that I've finally climbed out of the shadowy bowels of my existential crisis. This is an experience like no other (and certainly not like Australia! I was distracted from Day 1), and I'm doing my best to make the most of when and where I am. There are sports aplenty (alpine and cross-country skiing, swimming, jogging, sailing, horseback riding, cycling), students to teach, and foods to eat. And seven weeks of paid vacation! Wahoo!
