Seasons in Normandy

         I have now lived in this rural Normandy paradise for ten months. When the other AFSers and I dismounted the train in September, the fields around us were lush and green, the skies were a dry, summer blue, and bumble bees bothered us in the heat until we couldn't take it anymore and dove in the pool. Ten months later, (without taking into account this last week of rain), the bees are buzzing again and the hills have achieved the same green. Before coming to Le Chatellier (population 300), France, I had seen red leaves and snow on occasional family vacations, but I had never lived through a year with real, well defined seasons. It might get slightly more wet in January and slightly more dry in September where I come from, but I had never experienced waking up to see everything blanketed in white, or watching every green leaf gradually turn yellow and then brown. This year, I have gotten to relish in each new change in temperature (relish...or sometimes freeze). Every time I see the colors changing around me, I marvel. Here are some flash backs to each seasonal chapter of my year abroad, so that you can marvel with me, because it really is incredible.

Autumn

 Most of these pictures were taken by friends and family, not me. Fall was beautiful, no question about it, but it didn't make as big of an impression on me as winter or spring. I think this is because everything was so new for me in those months, not just the climate. There was also the language, food, people, architecture, school system, and everything else to get used to. A little while later, and the only thing that really took my breath away was the new solstice or equinox, but in October I was still caught up in learning to speak french and finding my way around town (the 20,000 person town where my school is, not the 300 person town where I live, because that one was pretty easy to navigate).

 

 

Winter

Although the pictures tell a different story, winter wasn't just about snow. Yes, late November and all of December were filled with its magic, but there were at least two months after the new year that didn't sparkle, just stayed wet and windy and cold cold cold. Those two months were some of the hardest of the year for me, and I was too caught up in my struggles to document them on camera. It's alright, though, because I would prefer to remember the snow ball fights and sledding adventures anyways.

Spring

Our Spring this year was an unnaturally warm one. This long week of rain that has been keeping me from taking advantage of summer vacation should have been switched with April and May's seventy and eighty degrees. But, despite being caught up in classrooms for some of it, we did get some nice mid-trimester breaks and spent our hour and a half of lunch time sitting on the grass hills at school. The dominant spring colors were yellow, white, and green, unlike Berkeley's famous pink.

 

Summer

These pictures were taken in the beginning of the year, but I'm hoping the landscape will go back to resembling it soon. At the moment, the once dry dirt road is a puddled mess, but I still have hope that I will get to frolic in the sunshine before I come back to a foggy Berkeley July. Today is hope-inspiring because there were some pretty warm half hours in between storms.

I don't know if you can tell, but I am gearing myself into goodbye mode.

Summer! ...Kind Of.

Although the grim rain clouds that have been lurking outside my bedroom window all day make it hard to believe, school is out. Well, technically, this week is a scheduled week of "reviewing" before our big, important Baccalaureate tests starting June 20th, but so far that "reviewing" has looked a lot more like coffee in town with friends than school books. I will get to studying soon, I promise, but for now the temptation to relax is just way too present to ignore.

School ended very abruptly. Not only did the last week of school sneak up on me much faster than I thought possible, but it actually got cut short one day, which no one, not even the principal, expected. Every year there is a sort of hazing tradition in the last few weeks before summer, a French equivalent of Freshman Friday, and apparently something happened that scared the administration so much they decided to shut down a day early. Usually, the tradition consists of a school-wide food fight, Seniors against Sophomores (because high school is only 3 years here), but some senior must have done something a lot more serious than just through eggs and flour at the underclassmen. There are many rumors flying around but none of them make much sense to me. In any case, we were all very perplexed on Thursday evening when some school officials came into class to tell us we were done. We had all thought the hazing to be a complete failure as only a couple of sophomores had been spotted covered in shampoo, and the seniors hadn't even made it to the main parking lot which is the usual war zone. Apparently last year it was complete chaos, so I was disappointed to have witnessed nothing (even though I should be grateful because I was supposedly a target--but I had even made sure to dress down that day!). And then I was confused as to what could have been so awful to send everyone home, but yet go unnoticed by most of us students. It is all very perplexing.

I know my Berkeley High buddies who are facing a long week of finals are going to hate me for saying this, but I wasn't jumping for joy with the end of school. I didn't burst in to tears either, but I wasn't happy. It was a weird feeling. A this-is-really-the-end feeling. I will probably never see my teachers again (except for the French and Science teachers who will be there for the test days), nor many students that I like but are not part of the group that I see outside of school. It's like I had been waiting to deal with all those conflicted emotions until Friday evening but they all kind of pounced on me unexpectedly.

I'll stop complaining, though, because it was pretty great to spend Friday in the sun with my best friends. And then again on Saturday. Not Sunday, though, because I was at a cousin's first communion. I went to a different one the weekend before. Both consisted of the traditional church services followed by a big, long family lunch; the kind I love and will miss. The church was interesting, because I've never really been to a church service before, but I can't say I will be rushing to return. I mostly just loved the day because I got to spend it with the kids of the extended family, playing musical chairs and dancing to french 80s pop music. I love seeing that side of the family. Every one of these meals makes me want to see my biological family; cousins, second cousins, tenth cousins four times removed; much more often. We should organize 50 person meals too! It is such a fun environment. Everyone is so cheery and funny and happy to be there with the cousins and uncles and aunts and grandmothers (except the occasional teenager who hadn't slept more than 10 minutes the night before and would rather be in bed). I had so much fun with all the youngsters, who may make fun of my accent but will never talk down to me, as some adults do once they have noticed one of my mispronunciations. It is so easy to stop being self conscious and just laugh with kids. I am really going to miss those cousins. Fortunately, I have one more big family meal scheduled before I leave, so it isn't goodbye yet.

I'm going to put off talking about all of the things going on in my head concerning my trip home until my last blog of the year. For now, I will just leave on a happy note.

Also, I don't know what is wrong with me, but for this blog I had to look up translations for words that I knew in French but wasn't grasping in English. And while skyping with my parents this weekend, I noticed how often I was thinking in French and needing to pause to translate it back into the appropriate language. This will be interesting on my first day home...