Hindsight, family in Vichy and the language reversal

16/3 - Just like in Mexico and Spain, I now have family in France.

The Reichmanns and I did a lot of things this week, including shopping at the grocery store, having dinner with Phil and Genevieve, exploring the ancient village of Charroux, hiking the Puy de Dome volcano and having another large dinner with some of the same friends who had a wild party a week ago. But, one thing seemed to be a constant.

This was my attempt at recreating a postcard I found in Charroux.

Charroux is an ancient village. We bought a jar of rooster testicles on this street.

Puy de Dome is a dormant volcano near Clermont-Farrand.

All of us seem to be a good fit with each other. Upon stopping by quickly one night with Genevieve, Phil (who curiously lives about 50 yards down the street) commented on the good atmosphere we seem to have. We're comfortable with each other. It feels like I've slotted in as an older brother, because I've taken to keeping an eye on both of the kids.

Dany has gotten close, as he held my hand at the grocery store a few nights ago. Nathalie and Philipe asked me to carry Dany after he had fallen asleep during the dinner with Phil a few nights ago and the dinner tonight with more of their friends. I enjoyed having a small body snuggle into my shoulder while trying to keep the feeling of sleep and took pride in making sure he didn't lose himself in the grocery store.

I'm proud to say these were some of my favorite memories of Vichy. I've said before that I don't want kids because it will tie me down, but the idea is growing on me. I like the idea of taking care of another life more and more. And the memory of that sky-high voice asking a simple question will stick with me.

"Tu fais quoi?" What are you doing?

17/3 - There are many devices or experiences in the world that anyone can understand or relate to, even if they don't speak the same language.

Math is one. Love. Pain. Joy.

Laughter is another. I played foosball with the Reichmanns and their friends last night, and all of us were laughing hysterically, fueled in small part by alcohol. But in those few moments, all of us spoke the same language fluently.

We sat around the dinner table, drinking, sampling rooster testicles, laughing, hurling jokes, discussing the different ways one can refer to the male and female genitalia and giving me a bad time, especially about my beard. But it was nice because the family could see I was trying my best to speak in French, so they tried their best to speak in English. This reversal is a funny thing.

The fact I can't understand everyone immediately when speaking French is just that: a fact. Like a week ago, I accepted that and and relaxed. I felt in control again. It did not matter one bit that several of the women my age said the beard makes me look old (it does) and that smoking cigars is something an old man does (true). I just looked into their eyes, grinned and shrugged in a playful way.

As I ride the train away from Vichy, I reflect on what I've gained over the past six days. Other than stronger French skills, I've gained a new family. Like my family in Mexico and Spain, I look forward to the next time we cross paths.

I recently read about one way of finding inner peace and calm is to provide service to the community, to make yourself useful regardless of whether you get paid with money. My week in Vichy was a way for me to help my fellow human, and all of us benefited. Nathalie and Philip are better with their English and, like me with my parents in Paris, translating French to English for me helped them.

Nathalie, however, is better at English than her husband, as he usually looks to her when struggling to find the correct combination of words.

18/ 3 - It happens every time. When I reflect on what I've done through the prism of hindsight, I'm always amazed. March had always been shaping up to be a busy month, but it's been a whirlwind with my parents visiting and the exchange with the Reichmanns. Every time I finish some sort of trip or plan, I have that momentary moment of nostalgia, a melancholy feeling that I have nothing else to look forward to.

I had been looking forward to both of these for months, and suddenly I'm on the other side of them. My mind has been stretched once more. I think a better time to properly digest my experiences will be next week, as I'll host friends from England this weekend.

As a final thought, I took pictures yesterday in Paris while waiting for my bus. I found myself in La Defense, the area of the city with many tall and shiny skyscrapers. Once again, this camera has stunned me.

Tour EDF, the building that houses France's main electricity company.

A difficult party, Vichy and the language exchange

I've started this off a bit out of context. The article will explain my situation eventually, so bear with me to begin. Also, please enjoy the pictures, as I have had a blast playing with the new camera. 

11/3 - I've been reading about power lately. One thing we must learn to recognize is when to submit and how long we must endure that period.

For example, the Reichamanns hosted a party tonight. There were 15 people and I was the only non-French speaker. At first, it was stressful. For a few moments I went back to the days when I would become flustered and struggle to say the simplest things in my new language. But, I remembered something.

The most important thing we can learn is how to control our emotions. So, I took a breath and relaxed. I opened my mouth and just spoke. I spoke French to the Reichmanns' friends and they understood me. In fact they were impressed that I've only studied French since October.

This was one of those situations when I accepted that I had no power, so I could just ride the wave. In a room where I was the only person with a different native language, I figured my best option was to laugh at myself and all of the jokes and pleasantries thrown my way. Laughing at oneself cures everything.

But I also remembered from my readings to keep myself in control. I stopped drinking wine and beer after a while and observed the other guests descend into intoxicated oblivion, eventually to a point where some began smearing cake on each other's faces. It was quite funny to watch, and the fact I was laughing at myself made others around me relax.

So, even though I didn't have much power there in terms of fluent communication, I still retained some power by relaxing and controlling how I projected myself to the rest of the guests.

So by that reasoning, I was the most powerful person in the room!

13/3 - Now to introductions. Marie-Amance's father, Phil, collected me from the train station in Vichy last week. It was excellent to see him again, and he showed me around downtown on foot. He introduced me to his girlfriend, Genevieve, and eventually took me to the Reichmann's house where we all had dinner. Phil gives English lessons to the Reichmanns twice per week, and it's here where I'm staying for seven days in a French-English language exchange.

Jean-Phillipe has a goatee and bald head, and is shorter than I am. He built a successful plumbing and heating company, which he sold back in September, and he's a fan of American muscle cars; he owned a new Camaro until recently. 

His wife, Nathalie, is a long, lanky and slim woman with red hair; she's elegant. There are some pictures of their wedding in the house inside this spacious home; my favorite of which is of Nathalie, in her wedding dress, pulling a bemused-looking Jean-Phillipe by his tie.

They have two children: Dany (6) and Jade (8). Both of them were shy on the first day, but they warmed up quickly to me. Dany, especially, enjoys throwing plastic-tipped darts or playing Playstation 4. I have trouble understanding him sometimes because, as all young children do, he speaks in that much-too-cute high-pitched voice. Jade speaks quickly and has a large birthmark on her face, which sort of looks like an old burn.

There are similarities to my month in La Almunia de Doña Godina in Spain a couple of years ago, but Jade and Dany are a bit more calm compared to Alex and Nuria; there have been no temper tantrums, and the only loud piercing screams have come from Dany when he scraped his back while climbing a tree or skinning his wrist upon falling down into gravel while running. The two kids are quite polite, especially at the dinner table; I noticed they always say "please" and "thank you," in both French and English. 

But before arriving in Vichy, I foresaw the similarities and pledged to myself to use the lessons I learned in Spain for this experience. In Spain I learned how immature I still was and that I had forgotten how the mind of a child works. Nuria and Alex tested me, because I took myself so seriously. Only now do I understand that Nuria and Alex were still in their unchanged natural states, whereas I was wrapped up in social protocols that had been drilled into me since I was their age and expectations of others, as well as myself. 

Anyway, it's only been three days or so here in Vichy, but the Reichmanns already seem more comfortable speaking English and vice versa with me and French. But, Spanish is still in my mind and the odd Spanish word slips out instead of French. Just like in Spain, though, I have noticed a sort of reversal. My brain is switched into French mode, so I think and speak in French even when explaining English. It's the opposite for the Reichmanns. 

As for Vichy itself, it's a quiet place, so unlike Paris (and thus, like Cherbourg). The fact it sits near a dormant volcano means one can find both hot springs and natural sparking mineral water springs around the area. There are several taps around the city which tap into these deep underground springs, and the resulting water is free of charge to the public. People can just walk up and fill several large bottles of the stuff. Though I usually dislike sparkling water, this is a bit less carbonated and has a different taste.