#medicinaldrinking

Yikes.  I owe you, dear reader, an apology: sorry it’s been, like, two months since my last post.

But in my defense this was a good place for a pause.

I’ve been retelling the history of my first exploits in France, but we reached the end of my exploratory first trip.  After I got back to the USA, I started working on my visa hardcore.  And, preparing for the best wedding, probably ever.  But I’m biased since I was in it.

And after the wedding,  I spent half of the time worrying, and half of the time preparing for the trip.  Which involved a lot of: “A year with just one suitcase, that won’t be enough shoes!” and then a lot of: “This will never work, why am I even worrying about the shoes!?!”

But it did work, I got the visa said my goodbyes and came back to France.  And so began the learning French, trying to drink French, and basically "survive with my sanity (and my bank account) intact" stage of this sabbatical year.  And so far, it has been a blur of emotions, new encounters, and fantastic travel.

But the best and the worst part, by far, has been trying to learn French.  Before this trip, it's was impossible for me to truly understand how much of my identity is tied to my words.  I used to think I was a funny, confident, outgoing person.  Now I know that I am a funny, confident, outgoing English speaker.  The new "French me" goes into social situations sort of like a baby goat-- I know people generally think I'm cute, but if I draw too much attention to myself they might eat me...

The best experience I have to epitomize all the tactics and troubles of my French connections, is probably that one time I went to a wine tasting event with Emile's family (P.S. I felt bad for not giving Em a real name, so it's Emile now):

1) You will never really know what's going on-- always be prepared.

I'm noticing that plans are often made around the non-native speaker, because it's so much work to include them.  And when you find out the plan, the kind person explaining it is probably tired of repeating all details.  So anyway, this spring in Bordeaux was horribly rainy and cold.  Almost every event that was supposed to be outdoors but could be moved inside, was moved.  So when Emile's sister, invited us to a wine tasting where several wineries would be pouring (including Emile's parents) I just assumed it would be indoors.  Nope.  There I stood in the cold evening rain, in a skirt and my party boots, mentally kicking myself with them.  Which brings me to the second point of advice:

2) Be open to brainwashing

From one perspective, it was cold and miserable.  I was wet, improperly insulated, and kind of lonely as the French conversation swirled around me.  But when in an uncomfortable situations, I believe you can make a choice to just roll with it.  And instead of spending the night miserable, I chose to admire the way the rain fell on the adorable cobblestones of backstreet-Bordeaux.  And I basked in the oldtimey joy of the lively string band playing from the bed of a truck in the light of the street lamps.  By the time I found a patient, French-speaking, Polish immigrant to talk to, I was in a good enough mood to be the most charming version of "French me."  So far in my life, most social situations have been naturally inclined toward the good times.  And they can be great times if I just give myself a little mental push in the right direction.

3) Don't make faces

For me, one of the big language problems right now is that I'm in that awkward phase when you only understand around 15% of what people are saying.  I can usually get the main nouns/verbs and some context, but the qualitative details are really hard to grasp.  Example:

The Polish women, in French: "My daughter _____ _____ broken____ _______ ______both hands and a ______."

Me, in French: "Oh my goodness!!!" as I make a horrified face.

Emile, in English: "She just said that her daughter fixed a broken wine shelf by herself, but it took both hands and a brace"

Me, in French: "Ah ok, that's cool…"

Now when people are speaking French with me, I try to school my face in a sort of profound look, maybe with scrunched up eyebrows.  In fact, it usually substitutes for an answer.  People will sometimes even respond as if I made a well-reasoned retort.  Of course, there's always the risk that I just seem brain damaged.  But actually, I think that happens all the time, no matter what I do... so now I aim for profoundly brain damaged.

And what, you ask, is the best wine to go with this relentless optimism?  I would have to say this Cote de Provence Rose I tried later in my travels, called "Made in Provence!" by Ste Lucie.  First, it was a double magnum (3 liters of wine), which is perfect for those uncomfortable moments when you feel like an outsider.  And second, it was so easy to drink-- it had pink summer fruits, a hint of English candy, and enough acidity to make it refreshing.  Which is important for reminding you to have a little fun, and stay refreshing yourself.