le retour

Dear ones,

I've gotten many a request in the past week to compile and write something to the effect of "33 things people who have lived abroad know to be true," "10 ways living in France changed your life," or my personal favorite, "I've got 99 problems and French bureaucracy only accounts for 67." My time in Strasbourg came to an end yesterday, so trust me when I say that I am with you. I wish that I could wrap up my entire eight months in France with a witty snapshot of gross generalizations, which have the good intentions of being personal and sentimental, but in reality is overly simplistic and empty. I wish that I could articulate how trying to cancel the contract on my phone leads me to believe that Dante's fifth circle of hell is actually the SFR customer service center, or adequately describe the sincerity with which I hugged goodbye two boys whom I've had the pleasure to watch grow up this year, or the feeling of tristesse that hit me suddenly upon walking out of my café for the last time.

Instead, I can only tell you that the process of unpacking this experience, literally and metaphorically, will happen in stages and it may be awhile before I have any real perspective. So, I'll do what I can. I'm finishing up the French life with a weekend in Paris that, so far, has contained everything that I consider to be so attached to my Parisian identity. I'll leave you now for a stroll down the Canal St. Martin before heading off to meet some friends and then see the Balanchine/Millepied program at the Paris Opera Ballet. Tomorrow brings new surprises and treasures to be discovered with good people and, in a little over 48 hours, I'll be touching down in the States.

A très bientôt, mes amis!

Love, Doria

p.s - ok, fine.  Here are some silly lists for you:

10 Things I will miss about Strasbourg:

• Cafés and the habitués (the regulars) whom I've come to know this year.

• Walking everywhere.

• Independence.

• The river Ille, especially the passerelles lined with willow trees.

• My friends and adoptive families.

• Speaking word poetry aka French. For example, did you know that a little milk to put in your coffee or tea is referred to as "une nuage du lait" -- a cloud of milk. How perfect is that?

• Stopping every few feet because every building and street corner is beautiful and deserves a moment of appreciation.

• Alsatian pride. I never tire of hearing the joy and pride with which native Alsatians will toast their region and slam Paris.

• Being the anomaly. "You're American? NO WAY!"

• Feeling lost and found at the same time.

10 Things I will do immediately upon arrival in California (in order):

• Cry. No shame, I can't help it. Girlfriend is gonna be tearing up starting over the Sierra Nevadas. I don't even want to know how it'll go down once the Golden Gate Bridge is in sight. Sorry not sorry in advance to whoever is sitting next to me.

• Turn on the American cell phone. Call me :)

• Say "pardon" and "merci" to all the wrong people including random customs dude, lady whom I am trying to pass on the moving sidewalk thing, and also to the poor kid I practically run over because I see my sister.

• Hug it out with the family Charlson. The crying will probably recommence about now.

• Eat a burrito.

• Ask to drive home from the airport. (Yes, obviously I ate the burrito in the airport. What else is baggage claim for? ).

• Be denied my request to drive home from the airport because of lack of valid documentation, jetlag, and also because I haven't operated a car in eight months.

• Go home and hug the puppies!

• Remind myself that I love the puppies, even though I hate dog hair on all my clothes.

• Sit in my room, on my bed and sigh of too much happiness and contentment.