FIELD NOTE 5.83 - Differences.

They were talking their loud English all the way to and from the placement test, these 2 girls, and all I could think about was how different my perspective is from what it once was. These differences are probably not as great as I imagine they are, but still they seem incredible to me.
So they spoke their loud English and over and over I thought to myself "I am not like them" without even daring to let my mind wander to the next question: "If not like them, then like who?"

FIELD NOTE 5.82 - Placement test.

I swear the Sorbonne's placement test somehow managed to search out all those little words and rules of grammar that I told myself I would never need to remember and combined them into one 3-page exam.
Some people stood up a few minutes after starting and proclaimed they knew none of it. Some people made a few half-hearted attempts and left after 10 or so minutes. I just put pencil to paper and prayed that what I was writing and checking would somehow manage to transform itself into an acceptable answer.
After the written portion of the exam, there was a small oral portion. I sat down and just began talking. I was kind of proud of myself for being able to go that fast and only forgetting one word in the span of it.
Tomorrow the answers will be posted at 8h30. Strangely, I feel the same as I did in Nantes after the placement test I took there in January: there's nothing I can do now, there's no sense in worrying.

FIELD NOTE 5.81 - Early morning, 7AM.

For the next month I will be waking every morning at 7AM to give myself ample time to prepare for and get myself to class on time.
Normally I hate early mornings, but something about Paris changes all that. Taking a shower in my tiny bathroom, flinging open the shutters, rushing through Parc Montsouris to catch the RER - somehow all of it makes me feel like an adult, like I can actually pretend like I have an entire life of my own. Sure my parents paid for it, but that seems trivial.
So I run through this city's metro system, keeping in time with the French people around me and reading the French newspaper in between metro stops. It might not be a full life, but it's enough life for now.

FIELD NOTE 5.80 - Missing roommate.

It is now 0h12 and one of my roommate's has been gone since 18h30. He said he would be going for a short walk and that he would be back soon. That was 6 hours ago.
I realize that the 4 of us living here haven't known each other long and the span of time hasn't been enough to allow unbreakable bonds of friendship to be formed; however, I feel that 3 days of rushing through the metro together and endless hours of orientation when coupled with a few conversations do breed a certain level of trust.
At our orientation we were told the emergency number to call, but we were told not to call it if it was something that they couldn't fix. Not knowing what to do, we emailed a prof and were told not to worry until the morning.
So I guess if the morning comes and he's not here, then there's a problem. But until then there are 3 of us in this apartment all listening attentively for the sound of opening doors and turning locks. Not a fun way to spend a night...

FIELD NOTE 5.79 - This moment.

It is now 21h27 and I am sitting in the living room/dining room of my Parisian flat with the window open. It is that point in the day when it's not quite dark enough to require a light on but still not light enough to see everything. A few minutes ago it was raining and it is rather cold but I still can't bring myself to close the window.
It's moments like this that make me know I could live here quite happily. But it's also moments like this when I know that it's all ephemeral - light fades, the rain returns, and the window will have to be closed.

FIELD NOTE 5.78 - Parc Montsouris.

Today the weather has been slightly cloudy and cold but even still I talked myself into doing my preliminary readings for one of my courses in Parc Montsouris which is right across the street from my apartment.
Since most things are closed on Sundays, the parks of France tend to be particularly crowded these days and I was not surprised to note that Montsouris was no exception. The park was full of playing families while runners filled the pathways and old people sat on the benches looking on all the rest. I chose a bench not very far from the entrance but close enough that I could dash back to my apartment quickly in the event of a downpour.
I passed almost 2 and a half hours there reading and listening to little snippets of passing conversation and the occasional clip of pony hooves when they would pass with children on their backs.
I always love the parks best here because they are the places where I feel that I cease to be viewed as a tourist and I just am. Sure, the French definitely know I am not one of them with our greatly differing appearances and dress styles, but nor am I of the same sort of loud American tourist which they are used to.
So I read and they go about their lives. Occasionally our gazes meet and then we look away. And then I continue reading and they continue on with their lives.

FIELD NOTE 5.77 - Brewing time.

Eventually I realized that staying in bed all day when my time is so limited here would be a mistake, I slowly began to rouse myself out of bed so that I could begin my day. Soon after I had washed my hair and brewed a cup of tea, my roommates began waking as well.
And then Pegan began brewing coffee for all of us. Two hours later when the coffee machine had only managed to brew about 3 cups of coffee, it became obvious that something was wrong with the machine and so we added more water and waited another hour. In that time the machine somehow managed to make almost 7 cups and, rather than waiting for the rest to brew, we just turned the machine off and drank the strong brew as it was, calling it French.
We decided that in the future it might be wiser to avoid the coffee machine in favor of a café or perhaps waking early to give the machine ample time to brew. Lessons, lessons.

FIELD NOTE 5.76 - Sunday.

Sundays are lazy days in France and even in a major city like Paris this doesn't seem to change. Yes, the streets were far busier today than in Nantes, but there are also more people living here than there. I am told that life goes on as normal on Sundays in the more tourist-heavy districts, but I couldn't even bring myself to travel up to them today for fear it would shatter the idealistic image I have of France even after all this time.
So this morning when the light streamed through the slatted shutters, I pulled my comforter over my head and prayed for more sleep.

FIELD NOTE 5.75 - One month.

Strange to think that in a month from this moment now I will no longer be in France. I will have just landed and unboarded my plane at Dulles Internation Airport and will probably be awaiting my luggage in front of a conveyor belt beside other travel weary people.
Knowing this, today I have been filled with this sense of sadness even as I feel elation at the idea of being able to see my family. I tell myself there's really nothing I can do about time and that it will pass as it will, but I know that the month will pass more quickly than I ever could express to you.
Then Paris will be a memory just as Nantes is a memory. Then I will have to sort though the pieces to find what remains.

FIELD NOTE 5.74 - Could.

Walking back to my apartment tonight a single thought went through my head as I walked through the park the next block over: I could live here and be happy.
It was a passing thought but it gave me no comfort even though I knew 5 months ago I would have killed to have been able to think that to myself.
I think the problem for me was the single key word: could. Could implies many things, but to me it lacks the feeling of choice. I could live here if I had a program for a degree, I could live here if I had a job requiring it, I could...but would I ever want to for me?
It's silly to think that there could be an answer to this question. There's that word again...

FIELD NOTE 5.73 - Grocery shopping.

Nothing is more painful than buying groceries in Paris after having lived in Nantes. Tonight I spent 17 euro buying bread, cereal, comté, chorizo, pasta, butter, and a bottle of wine when it would have only cost me 10 euro in Nantes.

FIELD NOTE 5.72 - Saturday tour.

There was a bus tour scheduled for CEA students today to take us around the major spots in Paris. I decided to go to refresh myself on where everything was in correlation to everything else and all through the trip I couldn't help but to notice the differences between myself and the other students as they rushed to take pictures of every monument and street we passed while I was seated, camera in hand but feeling no need to capture anything through the window of the moving bus.
And as they chattered away loudly about all the places they wanted to visit and all the things they wanted to see, I just felt a little lost. To me Paris is magic, but none of it can be found at any of the major tourist spots. No, it's hidden in the breads of the bakers whose tiny stores are overlooked when they stand next to a McDonald's or a cup of coffee from a café well off the beaten path.
I wonder sometimes if it will be like this when I get back - if I will be lost among Americans.

FIELD NOTE 5.71 - The truest sentence.

Ernest Hemingway once wrote:

"I would stand and look out over the roofs of Paris and think, 'Do not worry. You have always written before and you will write now. All you have to do is write one true sentence. Write the truest sentence that you know.'"

This is the truest sentence I can write:

I thought that France might change me and make me suddenly know exactly what I wanted to do with my life and instead it has only further confused everything I thought I knew and wanted - and yet still, even in spite of all that, I have never felt more free or optimistic in my life.

That is my truth.

FIELD NOTE 5.70 - Inspection.

All students living in a CEA-owned apartment are required to undergo an inspection after students move in and then another just before they move out.
Today at 5h30 was our scheduled inspection and shortly after that time Elisabeth from CEA stopped by with her inspection forms.
Since I had just made a cup of mint tea to settle my stomach and the pot I had used was still warm, I thought it would only be polite to offer Elisabeth a cup of tea. She seemed genuinely surprised by my offer as if simple politeness was something unfamiliar in the typical American students they deal with.
So the tea was brewed and there were more comments about my kindness. It wasn't until afterward and I was talking to my roommates that one of them told me just how much she noticed the small gesture really surprised and pleased Elisabeth.
I guess it's true what they say about the little things being the most important...

FIELD NOTE 5.69 - Orientations.

Orientations are never really fun and today's was no exception.
As we were going all forced to go over the various rules and advice for living and studying in Paris, I half paid attention and I half thought about how the "petits trous" in Gainsbourg's "Le poinçonneur des Lilas" symbolize both holes stamped into métro tickets as well as graves.
Because of this my foot was bouncing along to a melody that no one else in the room could hear while the director talked of apartment rules and class schedules.

FIELD NOTE 5.68 - Problems.

Today I learned a lesson as I rose early to shower and get ready before having to leave for orientation at the CEA Global Campus while the rest of my roommates slept. This will be the pattern for the rest of the time here since I am taking an early-morning French class at the Sorbonne and they are not.
I tried to be as quiet as possible but all the loud drawers and back and forth running from the tiny bathroom to my room for more products ended up making a lot of noise. Another surprise was that the shower room, while seemingly spacious, actually is not-so-spacious once the door's closed. It quickly became apparent that I would be unable to put a pair of underwear or pants on in that room without running into something.
I'm not sure how I'll manage to get through a whole month's worth of showers in this tiny room, but I decided to instigate a new policy with my roommates. Since the bathroom is in the kitchen and the kitchen has a door with textured translucent glass, we have decided that if someone is taking the shower they will be given the option of closing the kitchen so that they can have a little more room and be more comfortable. See Cole solve problems - and before 9AM, too!

FIELD NOTE 5.67 - Paris rain.

This apartment is strange at night as it fills with sounds unfamiliar to me and the streetlight catches strangely on the blue embroidered curtains and transforms the flowers into circles. Meanwhile the rain falls outside and even through the glass of the windows and the wood of the shutters I can hear it.
Even as tired as I am, I cannot help but to hum "La Bastille" from the movie Les chansons d'amour as I close my eyes and drift off to sleep. The weather says tomorrow will be sunny and warm for orientation but I find the rain so much more enjoyable here than the sunshine.
It might be the romantic image of Paris I still hold onto and hope to find or it could just be a product of my fatigue.

FIELD NOTE 5.68 - Beginnings.

Strange to move into a house with people I don't know. Stranger still because I've never actually shared a room or an apartment with another person before.
At first it was like the first day of school: four of us, the three of them know each other well. This means I am the outsider, a role I'm far too used to.
We've started to talk, that's progress. Hopefully this will be something we can continue to do, even if it is just civil words to pass the time at this point. And I can't remember their names yet.

FIELD NOTE 5.67 - Bumpy arrivals.

After navigating a strike, having to stand for the entire 2-hour train ride from Nantes to Paris, and then navigating through the métros and up stairs with my heavy baggage, I finally arrived at the CEA Center in Paris only to find that traffic would be too heavy because of the traffic and that I would have to wait for a few hours there for it to die down.
But now, 6 hours after having arrived in Paris, I am finally in my apartment and unpacking my life for a month before returning to the United States.

FIELD NOTE 5.66 - Au revoir, Nantes.

Today I left Nantes. It was such a bittersweet thing to leave the city I've lived in for the past 5 months and where I've begun to create a life for myself. But even still, I have quickly come to realize there could not be any real life for me there. At least, not the sort of life I think I would like for myself.

FIELD NOTE 5.65 - Grève.

Grève. I have come to hate this word even as I've come to accept it as an everyday part of French life and culture.
So the news that SNCF was having a strike and that certain trains running from Nantes to Paris had been canceled really didn't surprise me but still the possibility of my train's being canceled sat heavy in my stomach as a stone.
The next morning I woke before my alarm and decided to set off to the train station early to see if mine was still on schedule.
It wasn't.
So I went through the process of changing my tickets to the noon departure and set off back again to collect my things and wait.

FIELD NOTE 5.64 - Sharon's.

Darryl and I moved out of Fresche Blanc Wednesday. Our train was scheduled to depart Thursday morning.
Rather than spending the night in a hostel, I asked Sharon if she would mind our staying with her. She said of course she didn't. So we moved all our baggage into her kitchen and piled it beside the sink.
Since she has been working non-stop for weeks, Sharon decided to use her afternoon off to catch up on her sleep. Darryl followed suit while I, too awake to even think about sleeping, contented myself in the kitchen making tea and listening to music that would match the tempo of the rain falling outside the window.
Somewhere in between brewing the tea and Sharon waking up to get ready and go to the gym, I felt infinite, as if I could carve a place in the world where the possibility of drinking tea in the afternoons while looking out windows was entirely possible.
I can honestly say that that night at Sharon's was one of my best in Nantes and it made me realize just how much I am going to miss her. I hope our paths cross again.

FIELD NOTE 5.63 - Château.

One of Nantes most famous historical features is its château, le Château des Ducs de Bretagne. Having seen it last time I was in Nantes, I didn't really think it needed a second visit. But Darryl wanted to see it and I wanted to walk, so we went.
Getting there required walking streets I've walked many times since January and yet for some reason I couldn't help but noticing just how different and new everything seemed and then I would remember that I passed the store/resto/café only yesterday and it had been the same.
I think the ending made things seem different to me, almost as if I had to take everything in again or else risk forgetting it all.
And now the question is this: Will I forget?

FIELD NOTE 5.62 - Moving day.

Moving out of Fresche Blanc was comprised of a few forms and a room inspection. Easy enough except that over the course of the semester my room had managed to become unspeakably dirty and one of the doors on my shelving unit had been broken and patched by me.
I spent the 2 days before inspection cleaning and recleaning. I swear that I would wipe down a wall or a part of the floor only to turn around and notice some splotch or patch of dust that I didn't remember being there only moments before while I was cleaning.
So when the man came at 10h30 on Wednesday morning to inspect my room, I was reasonably certain that the room was clean and praying fervently that he wouldn't happen to open the broken door just in case my patch job didn't hold. He only walked into the bathroom and said "putain." This is not a good word and I quickly asked what was wrong. He told me the vent wasn't clean and took it down for me to clean. I told him that I didn't even know that that came off and that I could clean it. He smiled at me before bringing me a form to sign.
And just like that I passed the inspection. A few minutes later I was taking my signed form down to the accueil to hand in and get back my security deposit.
I guess there really hadn't been any real reason to worry. But all the same, I think I clean better when nervous.

FIELD NOTE 5.61 - Raclette religion.

Since it was our penultimate night in Nantes, Ben and Ge decided that we couldn't possibly leave Nantes without experiencing the Nantais tradition that is raclette.
In a nutshell, raclette is like fondu save that instead of dipping your food into melted cheese, you melt cheese and then pour it over what you want to eat. As an avid cheese lover, the only thing I needed to hear was the words "melted cheese" and I was in.
The dinner ended up being wonderful and stretched until almost 11h30 in spite of our having said early on that since it was a weeknight and we all had work to do - they their jobs and Darryl and I our packing - we would make it a light dinner and finish early. But the meal was wonderful and the conversation never lagged, so we found the hours were all filled before we had even noted their passing. And then as if by some unspoken cue, the night was over and we printed our plane tickets before one last farewell.
I have never been good with endings or change. Some call both inevitable parts of life while I just say that they are both bitter candies I can't help craving.

FIELD NOTE 5.60 - Stars.

Tonight Sharon invited Darryl and I to another pizza party and we readily accepted. The night was just as wonderful as nights at Sharon's always are, but when the conversation turned to politics between pizzas and the ethics of beating children, I began to sip my wine a little more quickly and look around and what I discovered was remarkable: stars.
Stars in Nantes! I've been trying to look for them since I first came here and yet even still I can't remember ever seeing one for - save for those few instances when I asked people if something in the sky was a star or a plane, never was I given a definitive answer. But tonight there were definitely stars above Sharon's. They were not the stars I'm used to in the King William night. No, here they seem smaller and as if they don't burn as brightly.
But still stars are a triumph. And so it came that I sipped my wine and watched the stars.

FIELD NOTE 5.59 - Closing suitcases.

I came here with one suitcase and today my goal for the day was to get this same suitcase closed. After hours of laundry, packing, and repacking, I finally got the suitcase closed and it's sitting on the floor beside the door awaiting Wednesday morning when I will be leaving the residence.
I didn't exactly expect fireworks when the bags were passed and it's true that I'm technically not fully packed yet - there remain assorted toiletries and books that need to find their ways into bags still - butwhat I feel now is just this sort of deadened dread.
I knew this day was coming. In fact, I've been counting down to it since my arrival, but now I wish it wasn't so near. I think this is the way of life and the nature of studying abroad. And if this is true, then I will just have to accept it and let go.
Anyway it's not like I have a lot of time to really rage against this ending since it comes only 2 days from now.

FIELD NOTE 5.58 - Sun worshipping.

These past few days have reached highs of the low 80's here in Nantes and, since the residence has deemed it unnecessary to turn on the air conditioning, we have been given the choice of sweating in our rooms or sweating outside. At least outside there has been a pretty steady breeze.
Today I walked down to a little field on the banks of the River Erdre where people normally sit and pass a few hours in the sun. I took a few old magazines and my iPod but after a few minutes of being unable to focus on any of the words, I just decided to lay back and close my eyes.
Lying there like that on the grass with my eyes closed I could almost forget the fact that the grass was French and I almost came to believe that I was back in King William in my own back yard. I found the fact that this wasn't true incredibly scary and incredibly sad.
Half a world away the world goes on and there are people laying in the grass. Are they pretending they are in France, I wonder. But I didn't have time to ponder this for long because my contact popped out and was lost somewhere in all the clover.

FIELD NOTE 5.57 - Simplifications.

I came here with one suitcase and one duffel bag, both of which, while full, were nowhere near the point of being crammed full.
Now I have spent the day trying to make everything I have amassed into those same pieces of luggage. The bags are now full to bursting and not everything is in them yet.
I came here thinking that I could come with just the bare essentials and that I would leave with the same. But somewhere along the way I bought coats and shirts and cardigans as I needed them and now those clothes have formed a formidable pile at the foot of my bed.
This is the way our lives grow about us, slowly until we can no longer recognize just how much we have until we lose it or the time comes to move it.
Now I'm moving mine and what won't fit will have to be left behind. I think this is what life will always be for me now: a bridge of old shirts and French magazines.

FIELD NOTE 5.56 - Packing.

Tonight I realized just how short my time is here. So few days remaining here. And so I began the process of packing away all those clothes I bought with me and all that I've accumulated here.
I've been putting it off for a while now thinking that the packing would make the ending real. The ending is real and the packing is such sad business.

FIELD NOTE 5.55 - Saturday morning with Sharon.

Life is crazy, even here in Nantes where I have no job and few commitments. But even still my friend Sharon and I haven't been able to align our schedules for weeks.
This week though Sharon finally found a time that worked for both of us: Saturday, 10AM.
Okay, truth be told this time was a little early for me after having grown accustomed to waking at noon, but I managed to get myself out of bed and down to Sharon's apartment just at 10 o'clock.
We walked down to Marché Gloriette where Sharon needed to buy some produce for a friend coming to stay for a visit. I thought it was fitting that I should spend my last Saturday in Nantes with Sharon, eating fresh chicken eggrolls in the same marché that Sharon first introduced me to 4 months ago.
Afterward I accompanied Sharon while she did laundry at a laundromat near her apartment and sat with her on the front steps of a building across the street from it while the wash cycle was in progress and Sharon altered a shirt.
Sitting there like that all I could think was that this was the most perfect way I could have spent the morning.

FIELD NOTE 5.54 - Dedication.

In the book she gave me, Ge wrote: Don't ever forget: Grande est la vie!
I now realize just how right she is.

FIELD NOTE 5.53 - Au revoir, Fées Maison.

Friday night, like every Friday night, I found myself sitting inside Fées Maison with Ben and Ge. Only this week marked the end of our Friday nights together.
And so we exchanged gifts to remember each other by. I brought them a textured silver Zippo lighter, something I knew they would use often. They gave me a "Dictionnaire des mots rares et précieux" because of my love of words. Both were perfect.
Then we began talking of wars and translations and all the sorts of things that beer renders suddenly important. At one point Ge and I went to the bathroom together. She said that she is really going to miss me.
I told her that I would miss her as well but that I was sure I would see her in the future. And as I said this, I realized it was true.
With me "I'll miss you" and "We'll stay in touch" tend to be hollow pleasantries rather than genuine sentiment. But with Ge the words are all real. The promises to write and talk will be upheld, of this I've no doubt, even though to me Fées is nothing more than a memory and a place I will probably never see again.
Realities are like this, bittersweet.

FIELD NOTE 5.52 - Café.

I sit and drink my coffee. All around me there are French people going about their lives in French as mine goes on in English talking to Darryl. And even so, I feel like I am finally beginning to be accepted here.
Figures it would come now only just in time for me to leave, but still the feeling is priceless.

FIELD NOTE 5.51 - This is real.

There are days when I wake up and I have to remind myself that life here is real. The French language is alive and well. Life here will go on for these people just the same after I leave as it has for their entire lives.
I know all this, and yet I still have to remind myself to remember this.
There are times when I forget that French is something more than a language spoken in the span of classes or that France is a real country and not an abstract place on a map. This is what studying it in the United States has done to me. Or maybe I just did it to myself by losing scope of it all.
Even now when I wake up in my room here I sometimes wonder if when I actually open my eyes and take stock of where I am, I will find myself back in Virginia and all this reduced to a memory, something infinitely more abstract than a classroom.

FIELD NOTE 5.50 - Kebabs.

After a day of sequestering myself inside my dorm room transferring a semester's worth of notes from one notebook to another and drinking seemingly endless cups of tea, I was surprised to find Darryl at my door telling me that it was nearly 19h00 and to get my shoes on for kebabs.
What passed was an evening spent at what Mari assured me was "the best kebab restaurant in Nantes" - and after our wonderful meal there, I would definitely have to agree - followed by an hour of random wandering, stopping at a bar to say hello to a friend, and ice cream in front of the château.
It was a wonderful night, filled with many little moments that made me fall in love with Nantes all over again.
And so as I came back to my room with the notebooks and books strewn over my desk and bed, I walked over to the window and rolled down the shade, piled the books and wrote a single question on the page of my notes: Will he come home after all?

FIELD NOTE 5.49 - "Life of Leisure."

I stumbled across this song today and it's lyrics seemed oddly appropriate for my life right now as I've begun trying to talk myself into packing and as I'm finding the smell of my luggage bringing back way too many memories.

Life was leisure, learning French words
And staying in white rooms without any style
Mailing letters, and taking pictures
We put each others in a drawer for awhile

But when will it all fall through
What else can I tell you
You just can't turn me on and off
You just can't turn me on and off

We're always drinking, and we're always playing
And someone's always trying too hard
So book the tickets, and please her parents
She is lovely and he is really smart

And when will it all fall through
What else can I tell you
You just can't turn me on and off
You turn me on and off

At first you believed it
And now you don't believe
At first you could see it
Why don't you (believe)?

The future's glowing out of focus
Our talk is cheap but the phone bill is not
And how can one word mean another
And why am I staying up alone in the dark

When will it all fall through
What else can I tell you
You just cant turn me on and off
You turn me on and off

When will it all fall through
(Cause I know it will)
What else can I tell you
You just can't turn me on and off, on and off
You turn me on and off

Rainer Maria, "Life of Leisure"

FIELD NOTE 5.48 - Braving the cheese bar.

At E. Leclerc customers are given the choice of shopping the pre-sliced cheese or going to the cheese bar and choosing for themselves which cheeses they would like and having them cut for them personally.
Normally I settle for the pre-cut cheeses because I find the scowls on the women working the cheese bar to be a little unsettling. But today all that was pre-cut was 6 to 9 month old comté and I wanted a 20-month so I had no choice but to use the bar. Well, that and the fact that I'm leaving in a week made me less hesitant.
Surprisingly I ordered my cheese easily enough and found it to a highly enjoyable experience. I tell myself that when I get to Paris that I will try to survive on wine, cheese, and bread for the month. But something tells me the time will come when I miss the quaint little cheese bar inside E. Leclerc once it has been replaced by the tiny Parisian supermarkets.

FIELD NOTE 5.47 - Results.

Exams ended for me last Monday. After that the rest of the week was passed by the jury in deliberation as to which of us should receive our diplômes universitaires, little pieces of papers saying that we successfully completed niveau 5 of the IRFFLE program.
The sad truth is that these diplomas hold no real merit or value outside the Université of Nantes. And yet even knowing that fact, I still couldn't stop a part of myself from wanting one. Even if it was meaningless, I still have a habit of collecting papers and skills useless in the "real world" of business and marketing.
So today the results were supposed to be posted at 8h00, which really translated to 17h30. I went with Darryl after dinner and searched for my name on the impossibly tiny spreadsheet and followed the line with my finger to the word "passed" which was followed by a note of "très bien". Looking at all the other people's final scores I realized that mine was the 4th highest of my level and, of those, I was the only to have been in France for only a semester, the rest having been here a year. So maybe I can speak and write French better than I thought and maybe I don't always give myself enough credit.
So even though my diplôme universitaire might be just a meaningless paper in the United States, to me it is now a mark, a badge of something more.

FIELD NOTE 5.46 - Stakeout.

Darryl ordered a pair of Vans from the United States that have been in Nantes since 8 May. For the past week DHL has been trying to deliver them to the residence but each time has been unsuccessful because they can't leave the package unless she pays them 12 euro for the delivery.
The residence, being French, doesn't bother to send the DHL courier to her room or call her even though she has left her cell phone number at the accueil. So she has asked me to help her.
I have called DHL and asked them when they will next deliver the package and their answer was not a French one that I was expecting, but more familiar: "It will be there some time between 9 in the morning and 6 at night." Seems some things are the same no matter where you are and I wondered if French cable men are the same. Probably so.
So today we conducted a stakeout in her room, both of us looking out the window with anticipation each time a car could be heard in the residence's driveway. Thus passed 6 hours. The package didn't come today but I can't really lie and say that today was not enjoyable. No, I think the day spent sitting in her room watching old episodes of Judge Judy and filling the hours with random conversations was perfect.

FIELD NOTE 5.45 - Life is life.

If there is one thing that studying abroad has made me come to appreciate more than anything else it is letters. I used to send and receive emails and messages without sparing them a second thought. Now they have become lifelines, little reminders that there are still some people who remember me across the ocean.
Today I received a message that ended: Profite à 200% de tout ce que tu vas vivre en France, tu ne seras jamais plus le même après. Et même si tu restes en Virginie, ce sera un autre Cole qui sera à la fac! Bisous! Tu sais que je t'adore! Now I can't get these words out of my head.
I know they true because I feel their truth resonating inside me. But I wonder now how this change is going to play out. Before France I didn't know where my future was heading or what I wanted with my life. After France I know this still won't change. I am still just as lost as before but here I don't fear that as much when I'm surrounded by 15 other international students all trying to do the same thing: start a life for themselves.
And when I go back with this newly started life still fresh in my mind, what then?

FIELD NOTE 5.44 - French Sundays.

I think when I am back in Virginia and all things fall back into their old ways, one of the things whose absence I will miss will be French Sundays. Before this moment I didn't think it would possible to miss a day, but now I know it as a truth.
Sundays here are so different: almost everything closed, no one in a rush, no schedule. It's a far cry from America where life goes on in the same way regardless of what day it might be.
I tell myself that I will still try my best to observe French Sundays when I return, but I know in my core that this is a hollow hope. After all, how long can a French Sunday stand when there are papers to write, books to read, and errands to be run?

FIELD NOTE 5.43 - Between.

The French have an expression: avoir le cul entre deux chaises - to have one's ass between two chairs.
Variations of this same expression are common in the English language but the one I have come to know the best is: "You can't haul two horses with one ass, Sugarbean." It's a line from Sweet Home Alabama, that almost completely forgettable movie that came out some time when I was in middle school.
But that is exactly what I am trying to do these days. I am trying to figure out where this world fits in with the one I've known and how I can reconcile the two. It seems wrong that in a little over a month I will be back in Virginia and all this will have been a memory.
Tonight I talked with Ge about living life between the chairs. My chairs are countries and here I am between the two.

FIELD NOTE 5.42 - Saturday.

Perhaps it was the fact that there was a jour férié this week or simply just that the weather is finally beginning to return to a more springlike temperature range, but today the streets of Commerce seemed particularly full as I exited the tram and made my way to the stores I planned to visit and some that were unplanned.
I am at the point where I can walk the streets here without fear of getting lost. I can almost always find a random store or marker that I've seen before and remembered for one reason or another. I don't know the names of most of the streets, but that's not really surprising since French streets have a tendency of having a few name changes within a 50 meter distance. But I count knowing where and how to go to get all the things I need as a sign that I have come to create a life for myself here.

FIELD NOTE 5.41 - Understanding.

I think I have finally begun to understand the French. Not everything about them, of course, but the big things. I tell myself that we have finally reached an uneasy peace. They realize that I break their stereotypes when they talk to me and I realize that they aren't so different.
Now come the little things like "bonjour" in the hallway or small smiles in passing. Now I can see the similarities in our dress - although whether this is due to the fact that I am absorbing their tastes and beginning to reflect them or it's just my own changing, I don't know.
Still, it is a wonder.

FIELD NOTE 5.40 - Croque monsieur.

Today Darryl and I went down to Commerce to have one last coffee with a girl we met on the tram a few months ago before she leaves for the United States. Somehow we ended up sitting down to lunch at a little café on the street corner called La Mayenne where we dined on croque monsieurs sandwiches that were followed by coffees and a shared slice of chocolate cake.
It wasn't the best croque monsieur that I've ever had, but still it was quite wonderful after my endless lunches of cheese sandwiches with Dijon mustard.
Lunch was nice but all the talk of endings was slightly upsetting because it made me realize just how close I am to the end. I don't think I will ever leave this space of wanting the end and hating it at the same time. I think this is how all students who study abroad must feel.
Life here is not a reality, it is a dream - and today this dream featured a mediocre croque monsieur. In August I will be back in Richmond and back to reality - a reality that will probably mean days of being once again too busy to stop for lunch and me growing too thin.

FIELD NOTE 5.39 - Weather forecast.

For the past 2 weeks Nantes has constantly had cloudy days with highs in the low 50's. This wouldn't be such a hard thing to deal with were it not for the fact that my residence turned off its heating last month and hot water is not always guaranteed.
So I have shivered my way through these last few weeks, curling myself into as small a ball as I can at night and making my showers as quick as possible. All the while praying for the weather to change and become warmer.
Not summer hot, just warmer.
Today when I checked the weather forecast online for Nantes I saw something that I haven't seen in quite a while: temperatures above 60 degrees. It seems we finally have the end of our cold streak within our sights. Now all that I have to do is shiver through what remains.

FIELD NOTE 5.38 - Phone call, 1AM.

Tonight I called a friend I haven't talked to in nearly 3 months. She has a tendency to spread herself too thin between school and work and the silence was upsetting me. In 5 minutes we had fallen back into our old ways of half-formed sentences and complete understandings. I have missed this.
Sometimes I feel that I could easily forget the world I knew in Richmond. We've grown distant and I worry that when I return we will find that no connection remains between us.
Already this silence has stretched between me and everyone I once knew. How much of this is my own fault I don't know. All the people I thought would send me messages or emails regularly are the very same I am hesitant to see.
There's little joy in the thought of return when it means returning to an emptiness. Still, my conversation tonight reminded me that perhaps everything isn't as dark as I am making it. Maybe it will all settle differently than I imagine. But is that what I want?
I think I still hold onto that impossible dream: recreation. I think I can come back and start over. I should know by now it's impossible, that my baggage has followed me once across the sea and it will follow again. But still remains the idea of coming back and having no ties. I would be free.
But free is just a word, isn't it? It has no real meaning. It is the reason I can't bring myself to be angry that I always seem to have to start the conversations with people. It is the reason I can't seem to delete people from my Facebook or my address book. It's the reason I have no answer when Jagna or Ziming or Ge tells me to stay and I can't think of a single reason why they're wrong.
Free is a cliché and we all know it's the clichés that cause the problems.

FIELD NOTE 5.37 - Sugar and tea.

Tonight I have come to the end of my most recent packages of sugar cubes and PG Tips - my favorite tea. Strange to think that the end of these makes me realize how all too real the end of my time here in Nantes is, how close it is drawing.
I sometimes imagine that life goes on forever like this: money put into my account to pay my rent and buy more tea. But it can't be like this. It can never be like this.
All too soon there will the same tea. But there will be no more sugar cubes, the absence of which makes me more sad than it ever possibly should.
Now I am opening another box of tea, another box of sugar cubes. And I tell myself it's better to enjoy it now while it lasts and the practicality doesn't seem so cold.

FIELD NOTE 5.36 - Saying no.

Ironically one of the few stores open today was Galeries Lafayette - a French cross between Nordstrom and Saks - who seemed to have a bustling business thanks to everyone else being closed.
Having nothing better to do and no more classes hanging over our heads, Darryl and I decided to walk in. We spent the next hour wandering randomly through the displays of scarves and Longchamp bags, she looking for things to buy her boyfriend and me constantly telling myself that I didn't need any more scarves.
We were both doing well until we came to the display for Kooples, a notable French brand noted for its classic designs with modern spins, and our eyes both landed on the mannequin's jacket. It was lovely. It was 300 euro.
Remembering last week's splurge-cum-next-day-return, I told myself that I didn't need the coat and that I could live off those 300 euro for nearly a month. And so with what was perhaps a slightly over-dramatic sigh I walked out of Galeries Lafayette.
So that's the story of how I conquered the impulse purchase - not very fun, I know.

FIELD NOTE 5.35 - Jour férié.

You would think that I would have realized that today, 8 mai, is a jour férié here in Nantes, but sadly you would be mistaken. It was only after coming to the realization that today was a "jour bleu" for the trams - days when the number of trams running is half its norm - and seeing that practically everything in Commerce was closed that I began to think I had missed some crucial piece of information that everyone else knew.
So all those things I meant to do today like fill out forms, ask about transcripts and buy hot peppers and dental floss had to be forgotten. Until tomorrow, until the stores are open.

FIELD NOTE 5.34 - Do or die.

Such a fun game. I highly recommend playing it on crowded trams when people are awkwardly staring at you and the scent of body odor is lingering on the seat beside you.
It makes the time pass so much quicker.

FIELD NOTE 5.33 - Understandable.

Of course there was only 1 navy blue and white striped felt throw and of course it also happened to be prominently displayed just out of arm's reach on a metal bar.
There were 2 other bins of these very same throws, although they were filled with yellow, orange, green, and 1 turquoise striped ones. And I wanted the navy.
I didn't really even have a good reason in my mind for why I wanted the navy and not the turquoise, but that really didn't matter to me as I walked up to a group of female IKEA employees and tried to gauge which would be the kindest. I settled for the one piling down comforters onto a cart because I know that I would probably any and every excuse to distract myself from that task.
I tried to use my most polite French to see if she perhaps knew of any other navy throws in the store and, if so, where I could find them. She told me there was a bin full of them and I told her they were not. Then she pointed to a bin of floral-patterned duvet covers. I pointed again and clarified what I wanted by pointing and saying "just beyond the duvet" and she said that there weren't but that she would get a coworker to get it down for me if I wanted it. I wanted it.
When in situations like these I find it's always best to say thank you but to add how horrible your French is - it just gets a better reception. She told me no problem and told me that my French wasn't bad, that she understood everything I said.
So I guess that's progress. And progress is good, even if slow.

FIELD NOTE 5.32 - The search for a flat sheet.

The goal of today's trip to IKEA was to purchase a sheet set for my month in Paris since the program only provides us with a pillow and blanket and I, not having known in January that this is what I would do this summer, did not think to bring any.
The entire idea seemed simple enough: go to the textile section of the bottom floor and search out a matching flat sheet, fitted sheet, and pillowcase. The task itself actually proved more difficult than anticipated.
The fitted sheet was easy enough to find. In fact, there was nothing but fitted sheets on the displays. After a few seconds of searching the pillowcases were also discovered; however, the choices of these were somewhat limited. But the flat sheet.
There was only 1 flat sheet sold at IKEA for twin beds and that sheet was both 10 euro and made of a cloth that would be sure to annoy me for the entire month of its use. So I settled instead on a (cheaper and softer) navy blue and white striped felt throw and decided to forgo the flat sheet.
It wasn't until I was riding the tram home that I remembered something my aunt had told me before I left in January: the French tend not to use flat sheets at all but just lay themselves between the fitted sheet and the comforter. Now I know.

FIELD NOTE 5.31 - Cultural differences.

The oral expression exam consists of 2 parts: argumentation followed by a short question-and-answer session with the proctor to ensure the material was understood.
This second part was going well enough until the proctor asked me if I would think to attempt to change economic policy to stop snacking. I just smiled and told the proctor that, as an American, I thought the notion of changing economic policy on such a grand scale a potentially dangerous thing and preferred not to answer because I feared cultural differences made answering well impossible.
Such a diplomatic statement I think for what I really meant: I really don't care enough to think about changing economy for snacking.

FIELD NOTE 5.30 - Last exam.

Today at 10h00 I was scheduled to take my final exam: oral expression, an exam designed to test our ability to analyze a test and create a well-organized argument from it.
So 10h00 found me sitting in the back of a classroom reading a recent news article about the changes in French diets caused by snacking and trying my best to think of all the possible reasons why I should care a whit about this. What I ended up scribbling on my little piece of paper was neither coherent nor deserving of any merit and I ended up sitting in front my my proctor without looking at the paper and not really caring at all.
This is surprising, or at least it should be. In Richmond I am normally the first student to start biting my nails three weeks after the start of the semester and wondering if I've already made some irreparable slip that will cause my grade to fall. But here it's all different. No one is expected to be perfect and as long as I get a 10 in my classes I will receive credit for them. It's strange to think that such a little thing could change my entire attitude toward something but it's allowed me to take from each of my classes without really worrying that I'll forget to take some insignificant and minute note that will determine an entire letter grade.
This exam means nothing but possibly allowing me to receive a paper saying that I successfully completed niveau 5 of the IRFFLE program - a piece of paper that is sadly meaningless outside of the university here and one that, I hear, is quite easy to get. So what's the point in stressing it all?
Besides, even if there was a point, it's all over now and I can't rewrite any of it. And I still don't care a whit about the changing eating patterns of French students.

FIELD NOTE 5.29 - Friendships.

It's strange to feel that my friendships are only now beginning to settle and develop just in the few months before I am to leave this city. I guess this shouldn't really come as any real surprise since I came here knowing that 6 months was too short a time to really expect anything to fully develop.
I tell myself that just because I am leaving doesn't mean I can't come back but even still I sometimes forget that I am not the only one who will be changing. Yes, I will go back to America. But at the same time Ziming will maybe move and Jagna will begin working more and perhaps Ben and Ge might move. Who is to say that the next time I come they will even recognize me?
And what of the people I am supposed to be returning to. I sometimes feel like they have already forgotten me as their own lives carry on and ask myself if I really want to come back to them. I worry that there will only be empty words and fake smiles for me to give them.
I guess I am too old to keep burning bridges this way. I will do my best to keep my new friendships as well as resuming my old ones. Some may fail, some may get stronger - but this is the way of friendships. Besides, I'm too old to believe that things can return to the way they were.

FIELD NOTE 5.28 - Drunk.

We were sitting outside tonight at Sharon's party, Ziming and I. She was smoking and I was drinking a glass of red wine.
She told me that she liked seeing me a little bit drunk this past Tuesday and that she was sad she missed seeing me that way on Saturday. I asked her why and she told me that she felt that when I'm drunk she could really get a sense of who I am but that she also saw a sadness in my eyes that worried her. I said nothing and she said that she had perhaps misread my face.
I didn't know what to say to this so I just sipped my wine.

FIELD NOTE 5.27 - Getting ready to go.

Today is 10 May which means that rent is due and since it is May, that means that today is also the last time I would have to pay rent here in Nantes. It also means that today the secretary loaded me with papers to fill out and instructions to follow before I can leave the residence.
It all seems a little intimidating, but I will find my way through it all. I've written my name on a paper taped to the wall of my floor and written out my mail forwarding address. Now all that's really left is to sort through all that I've amassed and cut off the excess.
And then there's the leaving, but that doesn't really fill me with any sense of dread. I find leavings are an easy thing to do, especially with my policy of never looking back. This time will be no different.

FIELD NOTE 5.26 - Superglue.

Tonight the hinge that broke apart from my door has been glued with some superglue I borrowed from Ben. In 2 days time when I open the door again I will see whether or not this worked, but for now just having the glue there is a small reassurance.
I sometimes wonder what my life will be like when I go back. I don't think it will be able to be put back together with just a little superglue and 10 seconds of applied pressure. No, there are some things that just can't be fixed. And I don't want this to be fixed.
I am different now. I don't know how or even if it's apparent, but I feel it in my bones like a dull hum.
There will be no superglue for me.

FIELD NOTE 5.25 - Wine and cheese.

Tonight was to be a dinner of wine and cheese at Ben and Ge's.
We have talked about doing this since we first met in February and yet things just kept seeming to get in the way. But now that our days number less than 20 we have all been instilled with this new sense of hurry to find the time to do all those things we said we would but never got around to doing.
So tonight was decided upon to be the night of wine and cheese organized so long ago and I found myself walking to Ben and Ge's with Darryl and Sarah, a friend from England. We ended up eating 5 kinds of French cheese, of which I can only remember 3 - brie, Camembert, and 12 month aged conté - and drinking 2 nice bottles of French red wines. All I can remember thinking at this meal as we all sat eating and talking was that I had never before felt so comfortable before nor as happy as I did tonight.
We left just in time to catch the tram to Commerce with plans to meet on Friday and stories and words still left lingering between us to give us a place to pick up from then. Riding the tram from Commerce to Recteur Schmitt a word popped into my head that I am often loathe to use because of my bad history with it but one that fits what I feel when I'm with Darryl, Ge and Ben: family.
I know now what I will come to miss the most when I am in Virginia and France is half a world away is them. I tell myself that I will find a way to keep the connection, that I will be back, and that we will last. But I've said all this before with people who lived just next store to me and now that short distant stretches like an ocean between us. It is a fool's hope to think that this time will be different, but I have always been the fool...

FIELD NOTE 5.24 - The morning after.

I don't remember much of last night except that my glass was never empty. I can't even take credit for the 2 blog posts that were written in my drunken haze.
What I can say is this: it was an experience, one that I don't care to repeat for a while.
So now I am drinking tea and waiting for the nauseous feeling in my stomach to go away.

FIELD NOTE 5.23 - Burning bridges.

Burning bridges is such a lonely and dangerous business. Unfortunately it seems be a business I seem to do quite often.

FIELD NOTE 5.22 - Broken door.

Tonight we decided to host a party for all the American students before we all leave Nantes and now all I have to show for it is a broken door on my dorm room's furniture and 2 random papercuts on my right thumb.
I don't know why I do this at every party I go to. I know I should stop drinking earlier but I just seem to keep my cup full. Sometimes I wonder if this is just some sort of legacy that is destined to play itself out in me or a need to escape myself for a few minutes. But the ending is the same: I am drunk.
I worry about so many things that I don't talk about but the red wine, white wine, rum, vodka makes all that disappear for a few minutes. I still hold myself together behind everything my mouth is saying but when I've drunk I am free.
But I know when I wake up the door will be broken and all the things I said would be regrets if I could remember them. But I won't remember and I will find a way to fix the door. And I will move on with my life.
And in two days, two years, this will be nothing more than half a memory and I will probably still be trying to escape it all. That is a sad reality, but then again most realities are sad. So I accept it and let it be.

FIELD NOTE 5.21 - Carded.

The legal age to buy alcohol in any grocery stores is 18. And yet even so I was carded today in E. Leclerc as I was buying 2 bottles of wine for a little get-together Darryl and I are hosting tomorrow night.
I didn't really know how to feel about being asked to produce an i.d. so I just decided to view the entire thing as a "cultural experience" - a label I have been giving to a lot of things lately when it seems easier to move on rather than to ponder.
So I handed her my Virginia's driver's license and had it handed back to me a few seconds later. It wasn't until I was walking out the store that I realized I'd given her was in English, a slight faux pas on my part. So I guess it was a true cultural experience after all!

FIELD NOTE 5.20 - Returns.

Le fait accompli. I have successfully returned my coat to Zara and with only a single twinge of regret upon doing so.
Although even that passed quickly as my thoughts began translating the cost of the cost in euro to the cost in dollars of my reading list after I return to Virginia.
So I guess one will feed the other as I begin the process of translating my life back from euro to dollars. It is a process. But until that is done, no more impulse purchases. And if I should ever become weak in that, I will remind myself of the books I want and how they will last so much longer than fabric.

FIELD NOTE 5.19 - New mantra.

After dinner Darryl and I were invited to a quaint little wine bar in Bouffay with Emma and Iain - both friends of Sharon's that I've been introduced to but never given the opportunity to get to really talk to.
So it was that we ended up walking into the bar while the rest of the dinner party diners went their own separate ways without our really noticing. We sat down and the bartender came over to take our orders and practice his English with us - a fun experience all around. Not really knowing what to get, I just fell into that age-old trick of listening to others place their order and choosing one of those.
I ended up with a glass of 2007 syrah in front of me, a very sweet and berry-flavored wine, which I'm pretty sure is now my new favorite of all time. Two glasses of that and 3 hours later and the bartender was telling us that it was last call. We drank some more before heading out into the night and parting ways.
It is a great sadness to realize that there have always been such wonderful people here in Nantes but that I was never really given the chance to truly get to know them - I try to steer clear of the word "regret" when this thought comes to mind. I tell myself there is no need for that word, no time for that word. So much so that it has become a mantra: no regret, no regret, no regret.

FIELD NOTE 5.18 - The last supper.

Realizing our time together is quickly drawing to a close, we all decided to go out to dinner. Ziming organized for a little café which normally closes its doors around 5h00 to open itself specially for our party.
It was a nice party and everyone enjoyed themselves, but still there was a slight hesitancy lingering over the table brought about by all the things we couldn't say: words like "end," "summer," and "future."

FIELD NOTE 5.17 - Impulse purchase.

I didn't exactly need the 100 euro Zara military-style blazer but it called to me. I was only after looking at it for almost an hour this morning that I realized that while I am completely in love with it, I'm not in love with it 100 euro.
And so today I am to make my way down to Zara to return the jacket. I've told myself no more impulse purchases from here on out, but we all know how that goes...

FIELD NOTE 5.16 - Late should be no surprise.

After being here since January, you would think that I'd have become used to the idea of the French running on their own time system. Not so.
For every exam we were told to be in the room 30 minutes early for roll call and instructions. Being late to this could possibly make us unable to take the test when it was administered.
This threat is really nothing new here. I have heard variations of it throughout the semester in different classes and always it is the same - people disobey but are still allowed to complete the test/assignment. But this time seemed different in that there were always mass groups of people clustered around the ampitheatres where the tests are administered.
So yesterday afternoon we were all there again at precisely 13h30 to begin the roll call for our oral comprehension exam only to find out that the testing group using the room before us had yet to finish. We ushered ourselves into an unoccupied amiptheatre and waited. Forty-five minutes later we were allowed to begin our own exam. So much for punctuality.

FIELD NOTE 5.15 - Syrah.

My hands are made heavy by the 2 glasses of syrah I drank tonight in the company of friends. It was a good day and this is a sign of a life well-lived.

FIELD NOTE 5.14 - Credit transfer.

After trying to get an answer from VCU since February about how my credit from classes here in Nantes would transfer, I have only just today received a response. And even that was after sending an email to the head advisor for the World Studies Department and copying the head of the French Department to ensure a response.
The good news is that I got my answer. The bad news is that I now have no idea what to do with it.
It seems that I am now enrolled in 1 unnecessary course in the Fall and I have no ideas what, if anything, this does for my plans of applying to a few French MA/PhD programs.
So now there are more questions, more emails. And I hope that there will be responses...

FIELD NOTE 5.13 - Chocolat chaud.

I don't know when it was decided, but some time between yesterday and today the idea began that Ziming, Jagna and I should grab a quick coffee after the exam. When we finally made it to the café at the Pole Étudiant we all discovered that none of us was really in the mood for coffee and Ziming and I both chose instead hot chocolates while Jagna elected for an Earl Grey tea.
Drinks in hand, we walked outside to absorb some of the sunshine that made today's chilly weather almost bearable. Ziming lit a cigarette she bummed off another student and began talking to Jagna about plans to start a business if she could not find one here in Nantes within the next year. All the while I sat and listened, occasionally sipping on my hot chocolate or tracing the paths of the ants at my feet.
Ziming kept commenting on my silence and I kept giving her that time-worn line: "I'm just a little tired today." I couldn't tell her about how all of her talk of permanence saddens me or how I am just beginning to realize that I will never know it in my life. No, for me it is to be a life of constant movement and constant searching I fear. She must have read something in my face or my eyes because she told me that she will miss me and that she hopes I realize that I can always go back.
But is there any real going back?

FIELD NOTE 5.12 - Let the exams begin.

Today was my first exam: comprehension écrite or, in English, the "Can you read 2 extremely boring articles and extract from them useless and sometimes implied information that will be of no real use to you in life afterward?" exam.
The test was scheduled to begin at 14h00 but we all had to be there 30 minutes beforehand to have the extremely complicated system for rendering the test anonymous that seemed to me nothing more than a waste of paper. But if I have learned one thing here it is that the French love to keep their illusions so I decided not to begrudge the test proctors this and dutifully filled out and then sealed the portion of the cover sheet that contained my personal information.
The test itself - an hour and a half - passed quite quickly as I read an article about monoparental families and the dangers they can pose to both parents and children which was followed by a rather boring and complicated interview discussing the paradox that arises from giving children equal rights as adults and education systems. Not really caring about any of this, I just shut all my thinking down and wrote out responses until I finished, 5 minutes before time was to be called. Since I was trapped in my place by students on either side of me, I just put the test into its "anonymous" booklet and twiddled my thumbs until time was called and everyone began to move forward to sign their names and turn in their booklets.
And so it was that I finished my first French exam.

FIELD NOTE 5.11 - Tired.

Some days I tire of writing this blog and feel that I'm trying to reach a truth that I'll never really see or understand.
This is one of those days.
So today I will just say that today was a day of endings and let that suffice.

FIELD NOTE 5.10 - Columbine, flower of folly.

Columbine, flower of folly, grows in a crack of the sidewalk. People walk by and don't notice, another folly.

FIELD NOTE 5.9 - I realize now...

...I have never been happier than this moment: riding in Ziming's car and talking about tomorrows.

FIELD NOTE 5.8 - The end of classes.

I've seen this day coming for a while now and the entire class has pretty much been counting down to it since we came back from vacation 2 weeks ago, but even still I wasn't quite prepared for the end of classes today. Part of this denial is probably because if I acknowledge the end of classes, I will have to also acknowledge that my time here in France is quickly drawing to an end - something that is just too sad to even think about right now. The rest is just the knowledge that even still there are exams that will last until next Tuesday and between now and then there are still dozens of things left to do and to study.
I think I perhaps might have been had the actual end of the classes not have been so anticlimactic. In truth I don't know quite what I was expecting from the profs - surely no tearful goodbyes or testaments of how much we've all improved and grown over these past few months - but the almost clinical endings to the class definitely was far short of expectation.
I suppose it is only rational that IRFFLE classes should end this way. After all, half of us are going back to our respective countries where we will go on to tell stories in the past tense about our stay here while the other half will go on to look for jobs and positions in France and their stories, too, will be in the past tense.
The saddest part about all of this seemed to me the fact that this sort of ending doesn't bode well for any sort of lasting remembrance. I like to think that perhaps some memory of me will linger on here once I am gone but in truth this might not be very possible given the number of international students that pass through the Université of Nantes every year.
Still though every now and then perhaps Annick or Marion will say something or see something that makes them think about that one American student with unruly bangs who said stupid things. That would be enough for me.

FIELD NOTE 5.7 - Winter again?

It figures that the weather here would take a drastic turn. After having packed away all my winter clothes into my suitcase this weekend, I was not at all surprised to find it incredibly cold inside my room on Monday morning.
The low temperatures were enough to make people wonder whether winter had ever really left and were enough to make me dig unceremoniously through my suitcase to find a suitable coat for the day.
Even still, the day was a pretty one. And, as much as it pains me to admit for all the shivering I did, it was a nice break from last week's unseasonably warm weather. I have a feeling in a few weeks I will be willing to trade almost anything for even 5 minutes of today's weather as I'm sweating on the streets of Paris.

FIELD NOTE 5.6 - Conversation.

The most intellectual conversation I've ever heard when people are drinking. The topic: popular American misconceptions about Chinese culture. (L to R: Ziming, Jacob, Sharon)

FIELD NOTE 5.5 - Sunday brunch.

Today Sharon invited me to over to a small brunch with her at her apartment. Being raised in the South I was ingrained with certain Southern customs from an early age, one of which is to always ask the host if I needed to bring anything.
Bread, orange juice, and champagne.
Simple enough. Today though was Sunday, a day when almost everything tends to be closed. Add to that the fact that today was the Sunday after a national holiday and things seemed a little bit difficult. Eventually it was decided that I would just bring the orange nectar I already owned and stop by a bakery at the 50 Otages tram stop for a few baguettes and a boule.
Before I knew it I was at Sharon's apartment with a mimosa in hand and being introduced to her boyfriend Jacob who is visiting from the UK. For more than 7 hours my glass was never empty and other people began to arrive. The time passed quickly and yet was still filled with memorable moments - I was called BCBG by Jacob, Sharon broke a wine glass by accident, Darryl feigned falling out of a window.
This though, like all things, had to come to an end. And 6 bottles of champagne and 2 of red wine does tend to slow one down. Outside the rain was coming and it was decided that it was time the party came to an end. It wasn't until later that I realized that Sharon's brunch is one of the moments I will treasure the most about being here, but it is a potent memory and I will live off of it for months.

FIELD NOTE 5.4 - Wild iris.

FIELD NOTE 5.3 - A sudden shower.

I should have been expecting it to rain. The sky had been constantly cloudy today but still the weather held and I hoped that Darryl and I could make it back from our walk just before the first sprinkles began.
The sky grew darker and Darryl asked which way I would like to go home: the short way that would take perhaps 8 minutes or the long way that would take 40. I patted my bag to make sure I had remembered my umbrella and, finding it's comfortable bulk there, started off in the direction of the long way.
We were walking along the path beside the river when the winds suddenly changed. Having learned early in my youth that a change in the direction of the wind normally proceeds the rain, I quickly put up my umbrella and a few minutes later it began to rain.
We didn't rush back after this started, but dawdled and took our time - perhaps the French culture is finally starting to rub off on us after all.

FIELD NOTE 5.2 - A slip.

I somehow ended up standing in line with Darryl and McDonald's this afternoon. After walking for more than an hour from our dorm and winding up in Commerce we decided to seek out a little snack. What started out as the intention to buy just an order of fries somehow ended up being a Big Mac, fries, and a Coke Light.
But I've been pretty good for the last few weeks and some slips are worth it!

FIELD NOTE 5.1 - Le muguet de mai.

Today is 1 May, the French equivalent of our Labor Day. This means no running public transportation system and no open stores for the day. This day also means something else in Nantes: le muguet - a plant you and I know by another name: lily of the valley.
While it is sold all around France on this day, Nantes is particularly known for its muguet and ships it out all around the country each year. Here it is sold on almost every street corner as farmers come into the city to sell what they didn't ship out.
There are many customs and sayings that surround the flower. Men are supposed to buy it for women and, when given to them, the women are supposed to exchange the flower for a kiss. Stems bearing 13 flowers are a particularly good omen and insure good fortune for the year ahead.
We saw them, Darryl and I as we walked in Commerce today. After having heard me talk about the flower for nearly 2 weeks, she asked if I wanted to buy one from one of the many vendors. I hesitated for almost a minute before ultimately deciding not to buy a sprig for myself.
I love being here in France and witnessing the all culture and the customs, but I always hesitate when it comes to participating in events like le muguet. Yes, I know that no one would begrudge me a single flower and that the farmers would all be just as happy to have my money as anyone else's, but still I must recall this world is not mine and it's best that the good luck go to someone who can truly appreciate it.
Still, it's a wonderful thing to see and to experience just the same.