So there’s this stereotype that the French are arrogant assholes. Maybe they are and I’m just so endearing that I bring out the best in them. Or it’s also possible that, for once, a stereotype is untrue. Quel Miracle. One of my colleagues suggested that the stereotype used to be truer, but there’s been a cultural change. I don’t know, I’m just a bit ashamed that I was so intimidated by these people, who have been so kind. They allow me to limp along in French (which I’ve never studied, but Latin + Spanish + how is it one manages to pick up so much French vocabulary? I really don’t know…) and then when things get tricky they switch to English in a way that doesn’t make me feel humiliated.
I haven’t traveled abroad alone in a long ass time. As my trip draws to a close, I have some observations. First, unless you are traveling with someone who knows all the languages and is very good at making decisions, it may be easier to travel alone. When I’ve traveled with other people, we spend a lot of time wandering in circles because none of us can pull the trigger, on, say, sitting down at a particular café. This one? This one? This one? *All starve to death* By myself, there’s no one to have an opinion but me. There’s also no one to be embarrassed by the language barrier but me. It somehow takes the pressure off. Second, I have changed quite a bit since the last time I did this. I am still timid, but I used to be SO TIMID. I was so afraid of dining in a restaurant that I’d eat every meal in my hotel. Now while I am still tempted to eat in my hotel, the prospect of alcohol gets me out on the street.
I’ve become a lot more confident as I’ve aged, and I think becoming a parent has a lot to do with that, though I don’t quite know what the connection is. Finally, DAMN, traveling is much easier in the era of the smartphone. No more wrestling with maps and guidebooks. Want to find a lovely toy store? BAM. Found.
Cadeaux pour les enfants
I suppose it might cut down on the look at the charming thing I discovered just by wandering experiences a bit, but I still managed to have one of those even if the charming thing I discovered was a lot of prostitutes.
Also, I can’t thank you enough for your suggestions. They had a really magical effect. They inspired me, and reminded me that there are lots of things I enjoy. I planned to do a great many of them, but only managed to find an adorable fabric store before my walking feet gave out.
It’s easy to find cotton, even in my sad city, but this place had tons of beautiful viscose, which is my preferred fabric for dresses.
My conference went well. The room was packed for both my talks, which made me feel good. And I had many good scholarly interactions. I am now an Old in this community, but this was validating rather than depressing, on account of how the young sprouts gazed up at me with such admiration.
I miss the babies very much, and the constant pumping is a weird addition to my professional experience. I am a bit worried about my supply being totally shot when I get home, but there’s not much I can do because if I pump any more than I have, been my nipples will fall off.
So that’s the news. Now I will watch this TV show which I believe is about dysfunctional families being healed through the power of doing an obstacle course (????) until it’s time to brave the streets for one more dinner.