Comme les Éléphants

While wondering the halls of the musée Dauphinois right by my French residence, I happened upon a quote by mountaineer, Caroline Villeneuve, that read, “Mon rêve, c’était de faire comme les éléphants, de revenir où je suis née” or in English, “My dream, it was to do as the elephants, to come back to where I was born.” For some reason, this has resonated with me since then and I did not really know why until now.

I recently returned from a fulfilling trip back to Jamaica. It was the first time I travelled for the holidays since moving further north, and I have decided that travel during the winter season to a warmer destination can cause some painful withdrawals, upon return, which I do not admire at this time.

Uptown Kingston at primet-time: Hop on while you can!

Uptown Kingston at prime-time: hop on while you can!

Still, though I have taken this trip before, I had never taken it like this. The fragile innocence of youth can blind one to the realities that they have lived, and this trip exposed me to many of these facts and figures I had not concretely defined before.

Simply put, it was a family trip to celebrate the start of the end and the end of the start.

Nevertheless I went into this with an agenda; comme les éléphants, I knew that there was much to rediscover and I only had two weeks. I prepared myself as I had during last summer’s European adventure: I made a list of destinations after a quick search on TripAdvisor and I made a promise to myself that no time would be wasted; at least once every day, the sun would shine on my face. Soon I came to realise that my agenda was becoming of something more.

Negril: Rick's Café at sunset is a must.

Negril: Rick’s Café at sunset is a must.

It is quite difficult to explain exactly my experience; to analogize, it is as if I have been telling a story I once remembered so clearly as a kid, as clear as real life. Every time I retold this story, something was added to it or taken away; and so everytime I retold this story, it felt less true, less authentic, like I had never really known it before. So once I began seeing characters and objects from this story again, things slowly came back to me, still faint but ever so familiar.

Unlike my European escapades where walking was a must, we drove everywhere; it was a blessing and a curse as the heat could kill, but I had to absorb everything in 5 seconds or less. Even so, for the things that took more time, like going to the supermarket or meeting my father’s friend from high school, I was like a sponge in water.

St. Catherine - Flat Bridge: on the road.

St. Catherine : on the road to Flat Bridge.

Conversations had more depth, people and places had more features, and my memories had more flavour. I concluded then that, in all my denial as a proud immigrant against acclimatization, I could now properly justify my multinationality as the proof was right there.

I did indeed live a part of this story, but a long time ago; when trees grow, their roots stretch out, reaching ends once unknown to that same trunk. So I may have lost my accent, and I cannot easily differenciate between uptown and downtown as other locals; but my roots all started from the same spot that I can and will always return to.

It never hurts to learn what you have always known.

À la prochaine,
Moi

Music of the Moment:

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The Feels.

So I’m back home from my semester-long exchange in Grenoble, France; have been for about a month now.

At first, even actually before I returned, I longed for the familiarity I was once surrounded by day-in day-out. I longed for my family, my friends, my school, my old life while still holding tight to the memories of the near past.

But as time came and went at and around home, a certain feeling grew on me, one which felt inexplicable and unnatural.

Then, tonight, I read this article by Kellie Donnelley, and my feelings not so much subsided, but in themselves, felt comforted at the thought that they were understood; that I was not alone in these series of feelings, and that it was in fact somewhat normal to feel such a way.

Here’s the link to the short but ever so sweet article: http://thoughtcatalog.com/kellie-donnelly/2014/07/the-hardest-part-about-traveling-no-one-talks-about/

À la prochaine,
Moi

A Hug for My Teddies

To feel ecstatic and all the while solemn, that is to live out of a suitcase.

Even when staying at a home, and not a hostel; with family, and not strangers; in comfort not unease, I still can not shake the feeling of wanting to finally settle, to be home again.

To sit or to settle?

To sit or to settle?

While I was on my exchange in France, things were different: my residence room was mine – temporarily, yes – but still, for the time, mine. I also had a family; not blood-related, but close enough; and I knew I had to settle since I would be there for such a long period of time.

Now that I have been constantly on the move for about two months, the need to return home is ever-pressing.

But I’m conflicted: I want to go home so badly, in desperate need to hug my family, friends, and teddy bears, but I’m also saddened to distance myself even more from the family I have made as well as discovered over here. Before I left, I had the fear of missing out on the fascinating changes at home, but now more than ever, I mourn the loss of chances to experience the changes and growth of my family abroad.

Yet, there really is nothing to mourn about. Thanks to certain technologies like Skype and FaceBook, I am able to easily stay in contact with others miles away – so long as they are willing. But that’s the thing; how many of those which I have befriended are actually willing to keep it so?

I recently watched a Tyler Perry video, a clip from one of his Madea plays on broadway, and in the clip Madea spoke of something very important. She said,

“Your life is like a tree. Some people who come into your life are like the leaves on the branches, only there to take from the tree and give shade every now and then, that’s the only thing they can do. Some people are like branches on that tree: you think that they’re a friend who will stay but the minute you step out, they’ll leave you high and dry. But if you find two or three people who are like the roots of a tree, they’re the kind of people that aren’t going anywhere. If those roots weren’t in there, that tree couldn’t live.”

Thanks to travelling, I understand who are the leaves and branches in my life, and I know who are the roots. I know that once that plane takes off, many a hands will be waving goodbye, until next time; but I also know that once that plane lands, even many more arms will be open to take me back.

Brighton! - where the sun shines in the name alone!

Brighton! – where the sun shines in the name alone!

At the start of this trip, a reflection came to me and I’ve been using it to head this trip ever since: I’ll always be up for the adventure as long as home is the last stop. So yeah, it’s been a blast, but now I’m ready to go.

À la prochaine,
Moi

Music of the Moment:

On the ride

“So this cousin is your dad’s fourth cousin’s daughter-in-law’s brother’s uncle’s wife’s neighbor’s dog’s friend’s sister’s mom…”

I previously spoke of my background; where I come from, how I moved from there, and how I do not know my exact roots. I also spoke of becoming cultured by travelling and learning the cultures, and in turn, histories, of these new friends and “family”. I always thought my family to be a small one: my mom’s side was big, yes, but that was due mainly to extra family brought in by marriages, etc (I can count the number of cousins I have on her side on one hand – nope – let’s make it two fingers). But then on my dad’s side, what I thought to be just one cousin not even my age, I am now discovering is immense.

One of the many lochs of Scotand...

Scotland: Lochland

The opening line for this entry is exactly the sort of thing I have been hearing over and over for the past few days here in London, and I am absolutely loving it.

While living with my immediate family up north for the past decade and a bit, I always loved our closeness and small family-gatherings since all we have are each other up there; but now, to discover that I have a whole pool of people I can call cousins, second cousins, friends-of-seconds-who-are-like-family, it’s just such a heart-warming feeling!

Oslo Opera House: a view..

Oslo Opera House: a view..

I have changed my ways as I’ve grown and come to appreciate the same quality of love in smaller numbers, but for a time, I used to get really jealous – yes, jealous is the right, true word here – when a friend of mine would brag, if you will, about her weekend family gatherings, another wedding she had to go to or her new baby cousin. I kept wishing that I could experience a big family like that where the head count went on for hours if not days, but I never thought I would.

And now I am.

This just proves how much one can discover by getting out of one’s shell, from under one’s rock, and just giving the world a big hello.

I’ve been trying to meld well into life’s new adventures as I cope with the end of the last one: it’s been hard, I’ll admit, but these past few weeks venturing to Scotland’s gem highlands, the ABBA museum of Stockholm, and the statues of Oslo’s Vigelandsparken, and now discovering the extent of my blood have shown me that there is so much more to come.

What a rush!

Stockholm: What a rush!

I won’t forget yesterday but I must still look ahead to tomorrow.

À la prochaine,
Moi

Music for the Moment:

xoxo

If you dig a little, you can find treasure in your own backyard.; and this week, I got a little muddy.

Every North American that comes to Europe, in my opinion, has the mentality that they must explore. No matter how much it takes, nor by what means, as many countries must be visited and checked off while you’re here because it’s EUROPE (also, reading articles like these just gets the Dora the Explorer in you even more hyper:  http://themindunleashed.org/2014/04/visited-201-countries-world-without-using-plane.html ).So naturally, when I found out that I would finally be crossing the pond, I quickly made a list of all the wonders I had to see on the other side.

One thing that has been difficult for me to check off my list is Italy, Italia, the land of all things Vatican and pesto. I almost had a chance to go this weekend, to start off a week-long vacation at uni, but my plans were thrown off by travel doubts and too many inquiries into the means of getting to the ends. So, I had no choice but to stay in Grenoble, which frustrated my plans and ruffled my feathers a little too.

Funny enough though, when things don’t go right, we can always go left.

I like to keep up with life’s pace so doing absolutely nothing this weekend was a definite ‘no’. However, I did end up discovering a piece of France’s beauty that was only a few kilometers away in a town called Vizille. There is a chateau, a mesmerizing park, and an atmosphere of exploration which necessitated but only a half hour’s drive.

Chateau Vizille: a palace of wonders...

Chateau Vizille: a palace of wonders…

There’s a line in the American Idol winner, Fantasia’s first ever single, “I Believe,” where she questions, “Ever felt like you were dreaming, just to find that you’re awake?” As I take in everything that is happening in my life at this time, it is hard to believe that I am awake; that this indeed is not a dream. To have your dreams spring to life almost feels as if it’s someone else who’s living them and you’ve just got the best seat in the house, watching tirelessly as you stuff a handful of extra-buttered popcorn into your mouth with every new scene.

Swan Lake: beauty in the backyard....

Swan Lake: beauty in the backyard….

She continues to sing, “And that magic that surrounds you can lift you up, and guide you on your way.” That magic that surrounds me is my family – and that includes all; blood relatives, friends-so-close-they’re-family, and my residence family, living here with me while on exchange. The love and support I receive in my life for no matter what I do is astounding, and like Fantasia as she sings in the spotlight on the eve of her Idol title, I too feel like I have won, and that feeling is bliss.

À la prochaine,
Moi

Music of the Moment:
Pour mes amours, ceux qui me donnent leurs coeurs et qui acceptent gracieusement le mien…

P.S. Happy Birthday Lexi :*

The Day I Got Food Poisoning…

A Stroll in Strasbourg: the city where France meets Germany, everyone is trilingual, and the sausages and doughnuts keep you wanting more...

A Stroll in Strasbourg: the city where France meets Germany, everyone is trilingual, and the sausages and doughnuts keep you wanting more…

I will admit that I like to over-dramatize life sometimes; but after verifying the definition of this illness via viable sources such as the Internet, my hypochondriac mind can assuredly say that I am currently suffering from food poisoning (probably in the slightest, but it still counts).

According to these feasible sources, food poisoning is caused by the ingestion of alimentation containing unwanted bacteria of sorts. I had lunch with a friend at one of the university’s cafeterias, and though I am always skeptical of their choice of meat presented, my hungry belly is never strong enough to object.

Further skimming of these website articles and I found that the common remedy seemed to be re-hydration. Due to the effects of the illness, the most important thing to do during recovery is to maintain the body’s fluid levels as one tends to lose a lot as the bacterial invasion passes through (once again, my over-dramatized description prevails – I am not in such a bad state).

But, I could not help but apply my new-found maladie‘s remedy to my other, lesser woes. The same day I ingested the ghastly (no pun intended) cafeteria food, I had to then endure my final two-hour French class which I have been taking since the beginning of the semester.

Perfecting another language, I find, is like singing a familiar (but not known by heart) song. Some parts of it, you get right; some parts you get wrong; some parts, you just have absolutely no clue how it goes. But practice makes perfect, so one must continue avoiding defeat to learn the lyrics until it can be sung without fault. Likewise, when it comes to learning a language that one has been studying for the past, oh say, twelve years, it takes quite a bit of motivation to continue practicing after having high and low moments, a lot of rights and so many wrongs, and just complete incomprehension.

Which brings me back to French class: I have always enjoyed my French classes from high school until my second year of university when my grammar credits were finally completed and, to be frank, my teachers and professors have enjoyed my presence and participation just as much. But for some reason, it seems as though I try and try in this class and I keep pulling failures out of the hat. Though I make mistakes while on the road, my day-to-day interaction with the Frenchmen tends to run smoothly, with understanding and inquiry on both sides of the conversation; however, every time I step in that class, my confidence in the language and my second favourite passion in life plummets.

Rehydration.

As I sip from my water bottle to replenish my interior fluids, I must also refuel my drive, restock my incentives, and continue on. Though twelve years is a heck of a long while – more than a decade, in fact – there is a reason why I have been studying French for those twelve long years and am currently in France to achieve my ultimate goal of being fluent as a current in the ocean. It is a sad sight to see one give up the race before it has started, but it is even more disappointing to see one give up near the finish line.

So, I must continue on.

À la prochaine,
Moi

Music of the Moment:

La vie en rose.

Some people say that life is a test; I disagree. Life, I find, is more of a learning process in which each day brings a new lesson. Of course there are those moments when we are tested – pop-quiz style, if you will – to see how much we have recuperated from such lessons; and this week those moments seemed to me to be consecutive.

The week started out in a tumble: a floor-mate and I had a disagreement (I call it that since the word leaves enough vagueness as to what the “disagreement” was about because, frankly, I still don’t know myself). Now, I’m not one to favor dependence on others for happiness or entertainment; however, confrontation makes me uncomfortable and to be involuntarily placed in that kind of situation undoubtedly dampened my mood.

School was a series of tumbles. It started off with me being about half an hour late for one of my courses. In all honesty, it was not my fault as classes (and professors) continuously change here for the exact same course. As such, the new location was a few ways away from its usual spot and, after wandering around for fifteen minutes looking for a sign from above of how to find this blasted classroom, a classmate happened upon my lost self, himself being in the same position, and we both found the class together…eventually. Apparently administration had sent an email out to the entire body. I beg to differ.

But anyhow, the school mishaps continued as I purposely stayed for the full day on Thursday – as in twelve hours and a bit – just to buy tickets to go on a trip I had been eyeing for a while. The tickets were on sale at 1 p.m. and the plan was to get there half an hour early with money and all.

They were sold out before noon.

On that same day, I received an email from the coordinator of another trip I was registered for this past Saturday that it was now cancelled due to the weather. I had about had enough.

I felt as though life had tested me this week (quite well, I might add), and all I had retained was but a sour mentality and a lot of extra time.

Then the cliche thought came to me as it always does to the voluntarily lazy who eventually realize time’s worth: I was gaining nothing from feeling sorry for myself. Even more so, there was no need for me to feel sorry myself. I mean, I’m in France for crying out loud! So a few things didn’t go my way. I build a bridge and get over it. I snap my fingers and get back to what matters. I pick myself up, and I move on.

And so I did.

IMG_2866

Le Palais des Papes

My friend had been asking me to go on a spontaneous, all-whimsical adventure with him, which I was hesitant to agree to due to my natural tendency to plan in advance; but by now, “what if”s were not an option. Life’s always the one to say, “On your marks. Ready? Set?” and often times, it’s us who chooses to go.

So within a few hours after my Friday classes ended, I found myself on a three-hour train ride to meet a quirky dread-locked fella in Avignon, a city in the province of Côte d’Azur in southern France; a little bit after that, and I had already explored the Pope’s Palace, wandered past the grand Notre Dame des Doms, and crossed the mythical Pont d’Avignon. I even got to cross off my bucket-list ‘performing live in France’ as I joined an impromptu spectacle with some instrumental street performers to sing some jazz and blues. C’était formidable.

La ville: Avignon

La ville: Avignon

And though the tests may get harder and the lessons more challenging to comprehend, the experience will never be less than wonderful. So bring on the next one life, my pencils have been sharpened.

À la prochaine,
Moi

Music for the Moment:

adventureception.

In the most uncertain of times, it is often best not to judge the moment, but just let it be; that is something that travelling and being away from any and all things familiar gradually teaches you, I find.

This past weekend brought about my first adventure within an adventure as a couple of friends and I went a bit north from our current city of residence to a smaller, quaint ville called Aix-les-Bains. Our number one destination there was the grand Lac du Bourget, a beautiful lake by the mountainside. But of course, like every adventure, there was a lot of extra stuff in between where the journey started and where it ended.

The start was a little shaky.

We were running a bit behind schedule but luckily we weren’t found running behind our train. The ride was smooth and the trip not very long. Once we arrived in Aix-les-Bains, we attempted to look for a nice café to dine in for lunch. The search was endless as many shops were closed (you’ll often find yourself question when people work and how they make any sufficient income over here).

Once we found what seemed to be a reasonable stop, we eventually realized its unsatisfactory menu items and decided to leave after sitting down, taking a look at what was offered and quickly using the washroom. The latter was our worst mistake as the owner of the shop decided, right after we left her shop, to come from behind her counter, storm outside  to where we had stopped to take a look at the shop across hers and yell at us for occupying her washroom but not her business.

After we had lunch at the wonderful restaurant Au Bureau, the endless search for an open bakery started. Once we retrieved our goods, we went on our way to the lake.

IMG_2722

Lac du Bourget is an absolutely stunning sight to see. The way the sun glistened on the water ripples was near indescribable (but luckily captured on photo). I highly recommend this destination to anyone  desiring to visit the lower France regions.

IMG_2728
As I sat there admiring Mother Nature’s softer side, I  couldn’t help but think of how much  little thought went into this trip. It  was really more of a point-on-the- map-and-just-go sort of thing and it  worked – it really did work.

That’s why whenever someone asks me what I want to do with my life, I always think it should be rephrased with, “What does life want to do with me?” Now, of course that is a question I cannot answer as I have yet to completely break through the surface that is my life; still, I find it best to just sometimes let it be. Let it be and you will see.

À la prochaine,
Moi

Music of the moment:

It’s Not a Goodbye, But the End of a Hello

One more sleep.

That’s all I have left. Just one more sleep. One more until my adventure – the very one I have been dreaming of for years, planning incessantly in between my present and past plans – begins, and I honestly cannot believe it.

It’s strange, really; when you dream of something for so long and begin to see it realized, you kind of wonder if it’s really happening at all. Even more so, you get scared of seeing it through for endless reasons: the fear of things all going wrong; the chance that you may fail at what you once thought was your destiny; the fact that, at some point, you may find yourself alone.

All these thoughts have been running through my head, day and night. Lately I’ve been turning up the volume on a lot of things to sort of drown out the silence. One thing I can’t seem to grasp, however, is why I am feeling this way as strongly as I am  about this trip when I just finished another one just like it.

But then again, that’s the thing. It isn’t just like the last time. Nothing is ever just like the last time. That’s kind of the beauty of the future – it often teases the present but never mimics the past. I like that element of surprise; it scares the living daylight out of me sometimes, but that’s what makes it all worthwhile.

I literally just watched the film The Secret Life of Walter Mitty (the coincidence of my spontaneously viewing this film during the period of my current life occurrences is still boggling my mind – it’s a great watch, I recommend it to ALL), and one powerful quote ran through the film:

Walter Mitty: quote

Walter Mitty: quote

And it is. Others may add onto it or tweak it a bit but we really are here to see, learn from, and understand each other and what we can discover; not necessarily the meaning of life, but how to live. “To see behind walls,” not literally behind them but more so walking up to a wall unknowing of what lies behind it and yet willing to continue. That is how one learns to live, and that is how I plan to take on this trip. I can plan only so much, and be as cautious as my mother and my mother’s mother have taught me to be, but there comes a point when great opportunities are deemed as such only by those who are brave enough to uncover their greatness.

This movie was honestly like a remedy to my unnerved soul, and a reminder that sometimes, you just have to trust the world. I mean, we live in it, right?

À la prochaine,
Moi

Music of the Moment:

Cool. Cool, cool, cool.

Finally, I’m here.

Where is here exactly? Well, it’s in a (somewhat) little biological station called Caño Palma in Limón, Costa Ríca on the coast of the Caribbean Sea, where interns like me come to basically help save turtles.

It gets much deeper than that, but since this is an introduction, saving turtles is, in a nutshell, what I will be doing.

Costa Rica: On our way to the Cano Palma biological station via the Turtle Lodge boat..

Costa Rica: On our way to the Cano Palma biological station via the Turtle Lodge boat..

This is one of my bigger adventures coming up and boy do I have a lot in store for me here.

The trip to my current destination was not as eventful as that of Atlanta, Georgia. I would give the excuse that it’s because of the lack of varying transportation used as opposed to Hotlanta, but that would be very much incorrect.

My fellow interns and I took a plane, then a bus, stayed at a hostel for a night; then another bus, then a boat, and then we were there.

What a trip.

Thanks to past interns who have traveled this road often traveled though, they left written guides to let us know how to get there conveniently, which really truly helped.

We’ve only been at the station, and in the country, really, for a few hours, but one common thing I can tell (besides the fact that every county in Costa Ríca has at least one church, one school, one medical clinic, and one soccer field, according to our station bus driver), the sense of community is very strong.

I, myself, can be very introverted at times and quite easily get lost within my own thoughts and perceptions.

Though this may help me in some aspects of everyday situations, what one comes to discover in life is that there is a time and place for everything, and I think that this is not the time to have that kind of mindset in this place. Cano Palma is a place of teamwork, co-operation, and understanding; so if I want to fulfill as many goals as possible during my stay, it would be best if I open up and become comfortable with things.

Identify the problem. Want a desirable result. Find the solution and be determined to accomplish it. Simple.

So, as I put myself to sleep and prepare to wake up in 7 hours for my first ever turtle survey, all I can think about now is how excited I am to discover exactly what ‘this side of town’ has to offer.

Pura Vida,
Moi

Music for the Moment: