.... but that doesn't stop me eating them. They're so damn good. I don't know why a French baguette tastes better actually eating it in France, but they do. It's the same with mayo. I've always been a fan of it, can't imagine my turkey sandwich or tuna salad without it (then again, I don't know how the hell you would make a tuna salad without mayo), and here, it's worse. I think the producers of this wonderful product have slipped in small amounts of crack with the Dijon that is also in this happy bottle, thus making it impossible for me to refuse. I try to eat healthy, I really do. But there are just some things I can't live without, and while you all know chips and salsa are at the top of this list (which totally sucks here in France btw but ironically enough still doesn't stop me), I would so much rather add an extra hard 20 minutes of cardio for my deeeelishious ham baguette sammy - and don't you dare hold the mayo. In fact, go ahead and give me a little more. No really. Please suh, cannIhave s'mor?
One of my best friends asked me what is I like about France so much that keeps me here, because if I don't have seriously valid reasons then I need to stop avoiding growing up and come home. Now I know this statement was in part selfishly coming from love because she misses me and I miss the beejeebies outta her, and it did get me thinking: what IS IT about France that I love so much? Am I really here because I'm avoiding growing up? The answer is more complicated than not. It's really hard for me to define my love for this country. I don't think I'm avoiding growing up. I actually came here to start growing up or at least figure out what I want to do with my life. I thought teaching was my future. Either teaching English here in France or teaching French back in the grand 'ol U S of A. Annnnnnd it's not. It's not like I don't like teaching. It was actually really fun! I'm using the past tense because now, as if this should come as such a shock- time has passed too quickly and now my contract is over. I loved (most of) my students, and (most of) them loved me. It's not as if it was too hard, or something I wasn't good at. I was really good at it. I've actually come to realize that I'm pretty damn good at anything I put my mind to! Not to sound to egotistical or anything. But it's true! And I am so gawddamn tired of being poor. I haven't been a college student for a long time now but it sure damn does it feel like it. My friend Chris says to me, " yeah Rach, you're poor. But you're poor in France. Embrace it!" No. Well, yes. I want profit from the fact I live here. Profit meaning I can take a train to Spain, or Italy or especially to another city in this beautiful country without having to eat only baguettes and mayo for the week or two following my little escapade. And yes, given my opening statements of this blog this may seem like a contradiction, but we all know eating one thing and one thing only consecutively for one week or two (with the only exception of course being real chips and salsa or any other combo of Mexican food) gets old real quick. Not to mention me getting real fat real quick, something I'm not a fan of either. SO. I've decided I need to pursue a 'real job'. One that has a nice salary. How about some benefits? An opportunity for growth, a promotion, a bonus or two? Traveling for the company is a primary goal. None of this is going to happen being a teacher.And not that being a teacher is not a respectable or 'real job'. It's just not the job for me. While at first the idea of not making a lot of money and having summer vacay off was appealing enough, it has since lost its luster. And so, all this leads to what many of my friends, family and colleges have said about my personality and drive for life for many years: get into sales!
So that's the plan people. Ultimately this job would be in Paris or Marseille, but I'm not ruling out NYC, LA or even my love: Seattle. Why is my first choice to stay in France? Well, in an attempt to answer my dear friend about my affection for this country, here goes:
Sight: have you seen the water in Marseille? Colors of turquoise green and blue like none other I've seen. I've been on a beach or two, and those of Hawaii and Thailand are absolutely incredible. But have you heard of Les Calanques? It's the (soon to be) National Park here just to the south of Marseilles with massive white rock cliffs scattered with groups of dark green trees and the like, rock climbing faces and hiking trails that lead down to Mediterranean. It's amazing.
Terra cotta roof tops: I know they exist in the states, but not so much in Seattle. There's something about sitting on my balcony with a glass of rosé while I watch the sun set over my neighborhood that warms my heart; old buildings mixed with new, each set of windows donned with shutters and the red-orange roof tops in the shadow of Notre Dame de la Garde. It's wonderful for these eyes to see...
Smell: it just smells different here. Now depending on where you go, this is a very good thing or a very bad thing. Just like in any country, stay away from the garbage bins. Instead, walk down the streets past the numerous bakeries of fresh baguettes, croissants and fresh fruit tarts. Stroll through the View Port where the fishermen are selling their catch of the day that are still flopping around in their selling coffins. Monkfish, or Lotte, my personal favorite, going for 15EUR/kilo. Not cheap, but oh so worth it when you can. Especially when one of your Marseilles BFFs comes with you to your house to bake it with habeneros and home made aioli. Yum. Which pretty much leads to....
Taste: do I really need to elaborate here? The French know cuisine. From foie to fromage, paté to pizza, and everything in between, it just tastes better here. Except chips and salsa. I think this has been covered.
Touch: the Mediterranean sand between my toes. Giving my big, gay Marseille BFF a hug. The salty beach water in my hair and on my skin. The hot baguette in my hands on my way home. The cold, small glass of rosé in my hands while I watch the sun set. The fresh veggies I examine at the markets of Noailles and Le Pleine. It's the little things...
Hear: The TGV train wheels squeaking on their rails to my destination. My flat mates yelling," Raaaaaach! (which is either sounds like 'Rach' as you know it or "Rash", which isn't as cool but still endearing), RachChaCha or Nasty Poooooote!!!" Upon entry and exit the door to my building telling me, " La porte est ouverte. S'il vous plaît, refermer la port derrière vous". The French language on the street, in the store, at my job, in my house- anywhere I go. It's pretty much why I moved here. I can't help it. They know it sounds pretty too, but I honestly can't hold it against them.
I could go on. However its time to join up with La Famille to make a video for Mika's journalist project, and I need to stop somewhere, because I could go on for a long time. All of these reason are not to say that they are better or more important than anyone or anything I've experienced in Seattle/US. It's just what's going on in my life right now. I love my life. I love my family and friends. I miss everyone so very, very much. I also love adventure and change. I feel another coming on.... what's it going to be???
Much love,
Rachel
