Bold as I need be to assume the role of “famous actress and worldly, wise woman verifier”, I’m doing it. “Rubber time” exists for all our special moments—you know, those that seem to crawl by due to extreme emotions that keep us so aware, even if just blissful awe. And for most, myself included, journey into the unknown provokes just this. How to communicate these occasions that make our time move at snail speed, or even make it seem like it is not moving at all, will most probably prove to be a difficult task, and the best piece of advice I can give before I start on this blogging adventure is to say: do it and feel it for yourself. Force yourself into the unknown. Take a left turn in life, and let fate and the passage of time do the rest.
I actually cheated a little bit. I don’t feel like this is my pre-departure blog at all. In short, I have already departed and arrived back in the United States after a seven-week summer study abroad program in Tours, France. Because of this small “séjour” I feel like I have the faintest idea as to what being abroad really feels like. Not to say that I am fully prepared for the year that awaits me. I am also certain that I will have a rude awakening at the end of seven weeks this fall when I think, “I’m ready for the good ol’ USA. Seven more months of gross public bathrooms and the all too overwhelming string of foreign languages? What have I done to myself??” And then off I will scamper to find the nearest Starbucks, which always make me feel American and where we all share one language—that of the Starbucks menu board. Everyone knows what “frappucino” means, right?
But France was real, as I was reminded each time my senses came alive when I passed by the Boulangerie on the end of my street or the flowers at the “Marché aux Fleurs,” or stepped in a heaping pile of dog poo dutifully deposited by one of the French dogs that seem to out- populate the people. Even the châteaus of the Loire Valley were real, even though there is always an element of disbelief at which I had to stop and pinch myself when I ran across them. (My crowning “awe” moment was when I first glanced face on at Chambord.) And at the end of these moments, I went back into “rubber time,” and I’m certain that I was dreaming. And I could not be more ecstatic to share this remembrance, this requiem of my dream if you will, with you.
The egalitarian in me must give balance to this first blog. Even though my experience over the summer was stupor-provoking, dream-like, and all things fantastic, I must say at times my experience wasn’t really as exotic as it may sound. After all, we all are human beings who biologically need the same things—and the French definitely share many ideas about the amenities that should be made to society. They did, after all, invent “la joie de vivre.” So without doubt, the distant traveler that I am found food, shelter for when it rains or even when it didn’t, stores for toiletries, bathrooms, post offices, restaurants, and bars. I was especially lucky to find myself in France, which also had beautiful gardens, châteaus, boulangeries, cafés, and ancient cathedrals at my disposal. And let’s face it. “Studying abroad?” Basically, the biggest task to study abroad is packing and getting safely to the destination because once I was there, I really just had to observe and live life in order to be immersed. Only then did I learn the most valuable piece of my education I acquired while there. So there isn’t really a big fuss to be made about going across an ocean. After all, it’s not like I swam there.
On that note, I am boarding my flight to Istanbul today, and if you asked my stomach, it would say it was Christmas Eve and I was six years old again. The butterflies are swarming around, and I just spent the past five hours “wrapping presents,” otherwise known as stuffing most of my belongings (minus all of the “just in case” items that I usually throw in my bags—word of advice number two, “Do not over pack!!!”) into my huge roller bag. When I walk down the jet way at the end of the greatly anticipated arrival, I do not have any idea what I will see. I have never been to this part of the world and have hardly even studied much about it. But my fascination with it has been growing ever since my mother went last year, and came back to rave about her dream-like experiences, complete with “rubber time.” Therefore, let the presents be unwrapped, and the senses be indulged when I arrive.
2 Comments to "“Rubber Time”"
It really does feel like a dream when you’re in another country, doesn’t it? And I loved the Tours, France summer study-abroad program, too. I went last year! Keep us updated once you get to Turkey!
Extremely. It’s just not real! Good to hear from an alum of the Tours Language Program. Thanks! First blog from Turkey is coming right up… So much to entertain!!!!