The Love/Hate Relationship

 Greetings. As I'm sure many of you already know, there has been a beautifully sunny weather in France over the past two weeks. Spring has arrived early here, which in Paris means picnics, saxophones on the Metro and cold beers outside. It is starting to look pretty everywhere – the Champs de Mars has even been re-opened after a long, sad, wintry hiatus of inaccessibility.

This means that there will be picnics in front of the Eiffel Tower soon.

There are flowers in the woods next to my apartment, birds, squirrels, rabbits and ravens scampering around everywhere. Maybe it's not Martinique, Nice or Mallorca, but it's something beautiful all the same.

I took the opportunity this weekend and the previous weekend to push aside my dissertation, teaching and reading boring pronunciation studies and enjoy the sunshine because 'life is what happens when you're busy making plans' or something like that (I just wanted to enjoy the sunshine).

"Les jonquils de printemps"

Les jardins de Tuileries

Montmarte

I had two visitors over the past two weeks and we were extremely lucky on both weekends to get such great weather. Although Paris never gets old, I have now been to see the Mona Lisa at least five times, walked inside Notre Dame and the Sacré Coeur at least ten times and taken part in a couple dozen “Eiffel Tower” photos. But I am determined to be a good tour guide.

I have to say, even the Mona Lisa viewing feels better when it's sunny outside.

Now that March is upon us, it reminds me that my trip to France, the year as a teaching assistant somewhere in a rural wood outside of Paris, is drawing nearer and nearer to the end. Last weekend my friend Deborah and I were discussing the “year abroads” whilst sitting on the terrace of a café, in the sunniest sunshine. She suggested that I seem to have a “love/hate relationship” with France which I have to say made me laugh out loud (a real LOL ha).

It's kind of true, to be honest. Anyone who has been reading this blog this year will know that there's been a lot of “merde” over the past six months – whether it's France's fault or not is a different question though. However, I have concluded that even though there have been many frustrating moments which have happened to happen to me this year while I've been in France, I can't really say that it's a “hate” relationship. In France, I have:

1. made some of the best memories of my life
2. drank so much wine I can't remember only that it was good
3. Met some of my most fabulous and genuine friends
4. Tried many new things, from going skiing, eating escargots and swimming in the sea at night
5. Not just learnt a language but become a part of it

Over a period of 4 years, I have been back and forth to France, never quite finishing or saying goodbye. There have been some seriously cool moments here, especially with the friends I made from all over the world. These friends I made in my first year in France are the friends I knew that I'd never forget or lose touch with because we all had that drive to travel in the first place – the drive to move away from 'the comfort zone' and dive into something new without being able to see the outcome clearly.

“the only people for me are the mad ones, the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time, the ones who never yawn or say a commonplace thing, but burn, burn, burn like fabulous yellow roman candles exploding like spiders across the stars.”

This is the moment, this year, when I was really alone for the first time and trying to figure out how I was going to meet friends and make more memories; this was when I realised who my “fabulous roman candles” are.

It hasn't exactly been a case of making new friends, but establishing the ones I've made over the past four years, in all of my different situations. Without asking, they came to visit me. Week after week. The ones who are mad to live, just like me I guess.

(Mad to live in France, you might think).

So when it comes down to it, maybe there is some sort of love/hate relationship. There has to be that in order for anything good to become unforgettable. But more importantly in the love/hate relationship is that I love it – the part where I love France and I am proud of myself for making so many true friends here and for discipling myself to learning French to the point where now it's a part of me. When a language starts becoming a part of who you are, you can't go back.

However, I think that this year is when the era in France ends: I can sense that there's something different for me after this. Unlike what everyone seems to think, that I'll be coming back here as soon as I can when I've graduated, I'm fairly certain that a new country and a new era of experiences are on the horizon.

“The best teacher is experience and not through someone's distorted point of view.”