No, it's not a random picture of my hand. It's the best of could do to get a clear shot of my nails, which are newly bare, getting rid of my manicure I had gotten 4 days before I left fot Geneva. Before, they were long and scraggly, with odd shapes of the cracked, leftover purple polish. But I hesitated to remove it, being a tangible, physcal, visual reminder of home. Doing laundry was the same way; I waited until I ran out of underwear before I took the plunge. I adore the scent of my mom's industrial sized Costco detergent, it smells like home. Here I can barely stand to where the clothes I've washed, they just don't smell right (although in retrospect this may have something to do with the fact that I was highly confused on how much to use, based on the milliliter measurements and the lack of any measuring device). So even though my clothes smell strongly of bad soap, at least I didn't have a repeat of the infamous 04' kitchen foam party, where I put the hand soap in the dishwasher and came down from studying to find myself knee deep is soap bubble foam.
So now I find myself alone in the house on a saturday morning? (12pm but I just woke up). Last night I was strutting around feeling confident and independent, ready to take on the city and get a taste of all it has to offers. I poured myself a glass of wine (Before she left, Michelle graciously offered me an entire bottle, laughing saying "you can have anyone except the 5,000 franc bottle!), and went to get in the tub. Me and the Tub, Oy. We've had our differences before, but it really got the best of me last night. I got in all relaxed, listening to Norah jones and drinking wine...feeling pretty damn good. All until I went to turn off the water. It WOULD NOT budge! I pulled and strained and yelled and screamed, but the damn thing wouldn't move (I have the bruise marks on my hand). I washed my hair, contemplating what Marc (dad) would say if I called him in Chamonix, saying I couldn't turn my bath off ("are you kidding...and we trust you with our kids?!?!?"). I finally got out, frazzled and dripping wet, grabbed a towel and hurled myself at it, wrenching my whole body with the nozzle. It finally conceded, flinging me back out of the tub nearly spilling my wine and cracking my head on the wall.
Well, WHEW, I thought. Glad that's over. Au contraire, mon ami. I went to dry my hair in Michelle's bathroom upstairs. 5 seconds after regaining my "take on the world" attitude, the lights went out. And not just the bathroom, one whole half of the house. Including all the lights downstairs, and the computers and machines for Marc's business, and worst of all, MY INTERNET. My computer's battery stayed on, but the internet was dead.
At this point, I knew my night was done. The girl I was planning to meet was in contact with me through email, and the phone somehow was not working (even though the power was on). I retired to my p.j.'s, watched "Mon beau-père, mes parents, et moi" (Meet the Fockers), had 2 bowls of ice cream, and a candy bar I bought weeks ago and had been savoring and eating little by little. Yeah, totally gone after a night like that.
So this morning, I woke up and decided to investigate. I found their fuse box control panel, and was able to get the electricity back on, and (hallelujah) my internet and the phone. I was so excited I started to dial my mom, quickly realizing it was 5:30am back home. I got online, got a great email from my mom, from Ashley (the girl I was going out with- turned out she didn't do anything), and from my aunt Peg (her name is actually Margaret, my namesake).
The similarities between me and Peg are pretty eerie. Same name, both went to U of M, both studied French, both went abroad to French speaking countries after college (although her venture to the Ivory Coast was far more daring). I know my mom had told her I was feeling lonely, and by the end of the email I had tears in my eyes. But I can truly say it has been the first time I cried out of happiness. She gave me so much hope and wisdome, that I am tempted to print it off and carry in my pocket, to read especially on nights like the last. The following are some of my favorite shreds of wisdom, from someone who has "been there and done that" in a big way:
"Hi Meggie,
I was thinking about you all alone in Geneva, and decided to write. I remember how hard it was for me when I left home and was very much alone in the crowd, thousands of miles from everyone who knew me. This is what I do know.
You will find a comfortable routine and start to feel like you belong there, as long as you are open to the "belonging" feeling. You will stop thinking about what everyone is doing back home at that exact moment because you will start enjoying what you are doing at that exact moment. Even experiences that aren't necessarily enjoyable (like the drudge of taking care of kids) have great opportunities to become memorable moments if you are positive and open to them.
Nancy said that you don't feel that you are contributing to a noble cause (like the Peace Corps?), but I say, what can be more noble than shaping the lives and minds of two young boys? Really, you will connect with them on a level that you don't even know exists yet, and when the time comes to leave, you won't want to.
The hardest thing that I had to learn being away from friends and family was to feel happy and comfortable in my own skin. You learn so much about yourself when you only have yourself to make you happy. I was so dependent on my family, especially my mom, growing up that I think that I subconsciously had to prove to myself that I could survive without them. Really, I was painfully shy, but knew that I wanted to be a teacher and deal with people as a career. I had to force myself into a situation (Peace Corps) where I could only depend on myself for my own happiness. That is what I mean about learning to feel happy and comfortable in my own skin. You are experiencing that right now. It is very hard because you have no immediate support syst em and feel isolated, but you have to remember that you have yourself. It is your time to figure out who you really are (without imput or influence from anyone else) and what makes you happy. For me, i found happiness in reading, getting letters from home, walking around town discovering new things, listening to the radio, playing my guitar, and meeting with people who were not necessarily my best friends, but who were interesting to talk to and laugh with. I loved experiencing the new culture with its bizarred traditions, stories, and food. It was not always fun. I was lonely, got sick (malaria), was robbed more than once, was stalked by a weirdoo for a while (scary) and found that most of the men who were interested in me were already married (how shallow). But after time passes you remember the positive things, and every experience, good or bad, helps to shape you as a person. You will have lots of stories to tell when you get home, and I for one want to hear them all.
This letter is getting too long, so I'll stop now. Remember I love you. We all do. Things will start to get better little by little. Take care.
Tanti Peggy "
This entire email is me. Being so dependant that you are frightened by it, and thirsting to prove your independence and yourself, are the main reasons I came. So now it's almost one o'clock on a sunny saturday afternoon. In the spirit of my "if it can go wrong, it will" weekend, I've just realized I must of stepped on my ipod headphones and broke them; I need to go to Fnac and get some new ones, then kickstart my weekend of discovering everything this city has to offer into bigtime high gear.
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