#22. I Have a Split Personality.

I spent a lot of time last week looking through old pictures, and as I did so, I had a strange feeling--like I almost didn't recognize myself.

Who is this girl?

This girl--let's call her Emily--is a full-time teacher and Bible study leader in the US.  She has a different activity almost every night of the week.  She goes to hockey games, DVR's Criminal Minds, surfs the Internet for fun science experiments, drinks Dr. Pepper, and always wins at Mad Gab.  She has the best friends in the world.

Yes, that is a donut.
Not everything has changed. :)

This girl--let's call her Emilie--is still trying to find her place a bit in France and has lots of free time.  She sounds like a kid when she speaks, she struggles to pray out loud, she never drives anywhere, and she has to wait until the weekend to talk to her friends in the US.  But she has also made friends from all over the world and can communicate with people who don't speak English at all.  She watches Cyprien videos on YouTube, drinks wine, eats fish(!), and surfs the Internet for fun English ideas.

I wish there was a way for all of the people I love on both sides of the ocean to meet both parts of me, but I don't even think I could adequately explain.  I was, however, able to come pretty close when my parents came to visit a few weeks ago.  They already know Emily better than most people, and they got to spend a few days with Emilie, too.  It was incredibly refreshing to have this time with them, and of course to see them in person after 7 months!

I thought it might be hard when they left, but I actually felt ok.  I really am happy here.  Now I'm starting to make plans to return to the US for the first time since I left, and that makes me both excited and nervous.  Everyone there will be expecting the same Emily to return, but that's not entirely who I am anymore.  What will this Emilie feel like when she makes her first visit to the US?  What things will she see differently?  What things that used to feel comfortable and familiar no longer will?

This cross-cultural living business is no joke.  I spent yesterday with two lovely boys (ages 2 and 5) that I would not have had the chance to meet if I wasn't living here in Lille.  Meanwhile, one of my best friends in the US has a new baby that  I haven't met yet!  And the kids I do know are growing up and changing so quickly that they probably won't even remember me the next time I see them.  But I am grateful for the opportunity to know and love people both here and there, even though that means my heart has to be divided, too (see also You Can Serve God with a Broken Heart).  And I'm even more grateful that when I feel out of place, I can remember that my true citizenship is not in either one of these countries, but in heaven (Philippians 3:20).

"...They did not receive the things promised; they only saw them and welcomed them from a distance, admitting that they were foreigners and strangers on earth. People who say such things show that they are looking for a country of their own. If they had been thinking of the country they had left, they would have had opportunity to return. Instead, they were longing for a better country—a heavenly one. Therefore God is not ashamed to be called their God, for he has prepared a city for them."

-Hebrews 11:13-16

The Things That are Missing from Me

People here frequently ask me what I miss the most about the US.  Of course, I am always missing friends and family; that is no surprise.  But what do sometimes catch me by surprise are the little flashes or snapshots of memories--either specific things that have happened in the past, or just general feelings--that come to mind, often at the strangest times.

I don't miss Starbucks coffee, but I do miss "happy hour" with my Westgate friends and colleagues.  (Oh, and I do kind of miss pumpkin spice lattes, too.)

I don't miss watching hockey games as much as I miss watching them with my dad.

Maybe next year, Blues...maybe next year.

It's true that the pizza in the US tastes better (because let's face it, a real pizza has mozzarella, and you eat it with your hands!!).  But when I think of pizza in the US, I don't think of the taste as much as I think of Wednesday nights at junior high youth group, Papa John's day at school (which also happened to coincide with jeans day!), or someone (usually Mom) driving through Illinois and calling to say, "Should I stop at Roma's on my way home?"

In Chicago...and yes, we did stop at Roma's on the way home.

Whether I'm feeling happy, frustrated, or embarrassed (that one happens a lot), I miss coming home to my best friend and roommate and telling her about my day.  

Pirate party!

The last night in our apartment...with our impressive parking lot golf ball collection

There may be other little things that I miss here and there (ex. self-stick stamps, Hidden Valley Ranch dressing, free refills) but they're not important.  Ultimately, it's the people--and the memories I associate with them--that I miss.

This is still a hard phrase for me to express in French.  In English, it's me that does the missing:  Ex. I miss my family.  But in French, it's the thing that is missed that becomes the subject:  Ma famille me manque...which is sort of like saying, "My family is missing from me."  Even though it's more complicated for me to think this way, I like that way of saying it.  I'm completely content and happy here, but I also recognize that there are some things (people) missing from me.

#21. There's a New Kind of Comfortable in Town.

In moving to a new country and a new culture, I knew that I was exiting my old comfort zone, and there was no guarantee if or when I would find a new one.  After just six months of living in France, there are still a lot of things that aren't comfortable--speaking and understanding the language, building new relationships, stepping around piles of dog poo on the sidewalk... 

Recently I was away from Lille for 9 nights--by far the longest since moving here.  I like to travel, but I also like to come back home again.  And while I was away, I experienced a strange feeling of trying to determine exactly where "home" was.  I wondered what it would feel like when I got back to Lille after being away for so long.  Would it feel like coming back home or not?

The first couple of days, I got right back into my routine, and things felt fairly normal.  Monday night I had signed up for Franglish, a local French-English conversation group.  But as the starting time approached, I really didn't feel like going.  I didn't feel like making small talk; I didn't feel like meeting anyone new.  But it was too late to cancel, and I had told one of my classmates that I would be there.  So I went.  And I'm so glad I did!  My French still needs a lot of work, but I continue to see progress in the quality of conversations I am able to have with people. Afterwards, I talked with my two friends from language school, and it was so wonderful to see them!  (It had been a few weeks, since I'm not taking classes at the university this semester.) Then, as we walked toward the Métro together, we heard someone calling to us.  It was another former classmate who had gotten off at the wrong bus stop and was lost!  I don't believe it was a coincidence that we were there at the same time and could walk with her to the Métro.  As I walked and talked with her through the cobblestone streets of Lille, my heart was full of joy to be in that place with these new friends.  It may not be the same kind of comfortable that I feel in the US, but it's definitely something.

Good times with classmates!  I am so thankful for the relationships I've made and am making here.

How to Manifest the French Way

Today was a national day of mourning in France after the attacks in Paris yesterday.  
Above, citizens in Lille observe a minute of silence at noon to show solidarity for the victims.

A couple months ago I was talking with a French friend about cultural differences between France and the US, and I mentioned my surprise at the frequency with which I encounter manifestations (peaceful demonstrations or protests) here.  The next time I saw her, she jokingly asked if I had succeeded in joining a manifestation yet.  Well, tonight, I did!

At 6:00 pm, citizens gathered in La Place de la République, just about a five minute walk from my apartment, to show solidarity for those attacked yesterday in Paris.  When I arrived I saw the place was fairly crowded with people, most of whom were gathered in small groups, talking, smoking, or even laughing.  Is this it? I thought.  Not really what I expected.

However, another cultural observation I’ve made in my time here so far is that the French seem to have a sixth sense for knowing information.  I might be waiting for someone to give instructions, and suddenly, everyone else just seems to know what to do.  Et voilà...at 6:13 pm (I checked my phone) everyone stopped talking, then moved together to the center of the place.  Someone must have moved first or given a signal, but I didn’t see it.  People pressed together, raising pens, colored pencils, and “Je suis Charlie” signs.  

The silence lasted for about five minutes, after which someone started a slow clap (really), gradually picking up speed, and then a chant of “Charlie!  Charlie!”  Then everyone joined together in singing La Marseillaise (the national anthem), followed by another round of applause.  After that, I thought everyone was starting to leave, but they actually spread out and joined hands to form a giant circle around La Place de la République.  There were a few more minutes of silence, after which some people gradually started to leave, and others stayed behind with their signs and candles.

The overall mood seemed peaceful, hopeful, and determined.  No one looked angry.  I got the impression that they weren’t gathered to protest against anything; rather, to show solidarity and support for something—for their countrymen, for freedom of speech, for peace.

I took advantage of the silence to pray for France, as I was reminded that only Christ can truly bring the freedom, justice, and peace for which we all long.

"I am the gate; whoever enters through me will be saved.  They will come in and go out, and find pasture.  The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy; I have come that they may have life, and have it to the full."  -Jesus (John 10:9-10)

Trimming Down the To-Do List

I love the feeling of checking things off my to-do list.  But in France I have learned that a realistic to-do list needs to consist of just one or two items per day.  Sometimes it's my own exhaustion from language and cultural differences that slows me down; often it's the French business/government system itself.

For example, here is what I did on Friday:

1. I woke up at 07h00 in the apartment where I've been staying since my arrival in order to get ready to be at my new apartment before 09h00, to wait for my furniture delivery that would come between 09h00 and 12h00.
2. I had filled my big suitcase with things to take over to the new place (including a convection oven that I carried home from the store Thursday night), so I wheeled that along with me.
3. I stopped at the ATM on the way, because I can only take so much out per day, and I need to pay my rent next week.
4. While I waited for the furniture delivery, I worked on some things in the apartment, including setting up my new printer (which I also carried home from the store--different trip).  I discovered that the printer didn't come with a USB cable, so that means I'll be taking another trip to the store.
5. Furniture was delivered by 10h30, yay!  So I locked up and walked to the bank to deliver a signed paper saying that I give the bank permission to withdraw money from my account so that I can pay my electric bill online.  (Note:  This may seem like a bit of a nuisance, but I bet it cuts down on Internet identity theft.)
6. I went to the SFR store to ask about getting Internet for the apartment.  I chose a plan and was told to come back Saturday morning to sign the contract.  (Update:  Contract signed; the box will be delivered to a parcel service at the end of next week.  I'll pick it up there, and then I'll try to figure out how to set it up myself!)

All of this happened before noon, and after that, I was ready for a nap!  It is easy for me to wear myself out trying to be productive; and what usually happens is that my time spent alone with God is the first thing to go--when in reality that is the most important thing.  So instead of running myself ragged, I am learning to slow down and prioritize.

     As Jesus and his disciples were on their way, he came to a village where a woman named Martha opened her home to him.  She had a sister called Mary, who sat at the Lord’s feet listening to what he said.  
     But Martha was distracted by all the preparations that had to be made. She came to him and asked, “Lord, don’t you care that my sister has left me to do the work by myself? Tell her to help me!”
     “Martha, Martha,” the Lord answered, “you are worried and upset about many things, but few things are needed—or indeed only one.  Mary has chosen what is better, and it will not be taken away from her.”  
     -Luke 10:38-42

A photo from my new apartment!

#20. It's a Great Big World.

As a student, I loved getting new school supplies every year.  As a teacher, I loved it even more!  :-)  In fact, my mom and I would still go shopping together every tax-free weekend.  This year, I got to buy my school supplies in France, which was a whole new experience.

Here is a photo of my new “pocket” French dictionary…a gift from the university!  Also, check out my sweet new pencil case in the background.  Correction…pen case.  “En France, on utilise toujours un stylo” (professor at the university).

Other than my stylo case, I actually found the process of French school supply shopping to be a bit overwhelming.  Why can’t you buy a notebook with pages that tear out?  Why don’t the folders fit inside the binders?  Why do the binders have 4 rings instead of 3?  If one is going to make a binder with 4 rings, why sell a hole punch that only punches 2 holes at a time?  If one is going to sell a hole punch that only punches 2 holes at a time, why not make the adjustable ruler go all the way through so that a person with some perfectionist tendencies can make sure the top half of her paper is as evenly punched as the bottom half?

Of course, in the grand scheme of things, none of these details really matters.  I am thrilled to be here in France, learning both the language and the culture.  The US is a big country, but the world outside of it is a whole lot bigger.  And the more people I meet here who are from all over the world, the more I appreciate the greatness of my God who created and cares for every tribe, tongue, people, and nation.  English is a pretty widely spoken language, but not everyone here speaks it.  So even though my French isn’t great yet, I think it’s pretty awesome that having this language in common with my classmates allows me to communicate with people from places I’ve never been and may never be able to go.

“The God who made the world and everything in it is the Lord of heaven and earth and does not live in temples built by human hands. And he is not served by human hands, as if he needed anything. Rather, he himself gives everyone life and breath and everything else. From one man he made all the nations, that they should inhabit the whole earth; and he marked out their appointed times in history and the boundaries of their lands. God did this so that they would seek him and perhaps reach out for him and find him, though he is not far from any one of us. ‘For in him we live and move and have our being.’ As some of your own poets have said, ‘We are his offspring.’”  -Acts 17:24-28

P.S.  I finally found a “folder” I can put inside my binder!

#19. "Wait Time" is Important.

There is a term in education called "wait time," which refers to the amount of time between the teacher asking a question and eliciting a response from the student.  I was taught to allow at least 7 seconds "wait time."  That's not much in the grand scheme of things, but when you are silently staring at a room full of middle schoolers, 7 seconds can feel like an eternity.  The theory behind "wait time" is that it gives all students the opportunity to process the question and formulate a response before the teacher calls on someone.  Inevitably, though, what happened when I really did wait that long is someone would say, "Umm...what was the question?"

Sigh.

It was hard for me to wait, and it still is.  Waiting feels passive, and I want to be doing something.  I want to feel like I'm moving forward.  But sometimes, in education as well as in life, a period of "wait time" is exactly what we need in order to move forward.  There are lessons we learn in our wait time that we just couldn't if we didn't have time to process what is happening.  

For the past couple of years, I have been waiting and waiting to return to France...and now I'm finally here!  :-)  But that doesn't mean the waiting is done.  On the contrary, I have a new set of things to wait for:  waiting for an email to confirm an appointment, waiting to see a friend, waiting for the bus or the Métro, waiting for the day when I might be able to express myself freely in French.  In each "wait time," though, I can be confident that God has something to show me.  And when the time is right, He can and will act swiftly (see Isaiah 46:11, Isaiah 48:3, Habakkuk 2:3,14).  And then...it will be on to the next wait time.

Waiting at the bus stop...