More travelling: USA

Apologies for my recent absence from blogging. It started with having little to share with you, but ended on just being too busy!

When sometimes negative can be positive

Change comes to us all, in whatever format you might imagine. Change can be bitter, it can be worthwhile, it can be terrifying, and sometimes it can be just about the best thing you ever did.

Perhaps where you live might change, who you’re dating, what job you’re doing, or with whom you are friends. We can choose to accept it or fight desperately, although the latter seems rather futile to me.

Try not to roll your eyes; I am perfectly aware that I am only twenty-one and have plenty more to do in my life, but here is my take on things:

France

If you have been reading this blog at all over the last few months, you will know I have had a love-hate relationship with France. My stay there is now over and, as with any ending, I like to reflect.

There are things about France I surely am pleased to leave behind. Living in Bolbec without a car for escape is one of them. Nor will my heart ache for the bureaucracy - after seven months I still haven't been fully subscribed to social security, or received my Carte Vitale. I am perfectly happy to say au revoir to French people who do not want to make an effort to understand me when I am struggling my way through a unforeseen conversation about a topic I had never previously considered in English, let alone French - I'm not a native, apologies if I do not know the French for "supercollider". Actually no, no apologies. Equally, I am not going to miss the people who can't even put themselves out there to try to understand me because I made a tiny mistake in pronunciation. And I'm definitely not going to miss the expensive energy prices for my flat when I spent months huddled under blankets, not receiving the benefit for what I spent. I won't miss being away and unable to get home for friends' birthdays. Et en plus, Paris, je ne t'aime pas.

I will miss the community of assistants. A few of us in a certain area got into the habit of overcoming our transport difficulties to see each other as much as we could, and became much more resourceful and adaptable because of it. But probably more importantly, we made friends. Lauren and I quite possibly have a Bolbec bond for life even if we do literally come from opposite sides of the globe, and I feel able share almost anything with Tatiana - and what I can't I don't feel able to share with anyone. I will miss our evenings as a group spent discussing anything and everything, laughing and eating and - as far as I could tell - not being judged. I will miss the encouragement to go and see something new just because somebody else wanted to go, when I probably wouldn't have been bothered alone.


I will miss a lifestyle of wandering in and out of my own flat whenever it suited me. Sure sometimes boredom from solitude set in, but it is great to have your own place, and live how you want to live. Although I suspect there is more of this to come in my future, so it is perhaps not as terrible as all that.

I will miss certain foods. I was most disappointed to have discovered a great new cheese just days before the holidays - and now I cannot remember the name, but I could find it for you on the shelf in the supermarket. I will miss the habits of going into Carrefour and knowing where everything I wanted was, and never having to go back there again. I dislike immensely the thought of another assistant replacing me next year where I had fitted in, and I don't want them to replace the decorations and students' work I put up to brighten up one of my classrooms. I will miss the opportunity to speak French whenever I wanted, although it is great to be always understood and to understand. I guess it is the habits you get into that I will miss.

But I will miss my French friends. On my penultimate night in Bolbec, the teachers at my principal school had organised a drinks party, for which I was prepared, and a meal out, for which I was not. Fifteen teachers and members of staff signed up to come out to say goodbye and many more signed my goodbye card. I would never have believed fifteen people would want to go anywhere for me like that. They had collected money, and put time into considering what presents to buy me, and had finally bought me a new watch (because mine had been lost at gym class), a new purse (as mine was falling to pieces) and a new memory stick with a keychain (because I had been constantly losing one of three all year round). There was leftover money to give me because more people had contributed at the last minute. People wanted my email address and I have had to promise to countless people to keep in touch. I don't believe I have ever felt so appreciated.

I hate that this is our only photo
because I look terrible.

Most of all, I will miss my professeur référent. She is an absolute gem, and now, I can say, a friend, one that will not be losing me in a hurry (and make no rude comments, because she doesn't mind that!). And that, although my university probably would point to my language skills, I think is the main point of my French experience. People enrich your life, and it is essential to hold on to the ones you like and learn from.

Surprising yourself

I admit, I am absolutely brilliant when it comes to finding reasons not to do what I don't want to do. I am equally good at forcing myself into things I know I should do, but also don't want to do. Imagine, therefore, the constant battle which occurs in my head.

How is this still happening?

After four days of travelling on my own in Switzerland and the southern half of France, I returned to Paris on Thursday night, safely back in the north that I recognise, with plans to visit a castle - my first French château - in nearby Pierrefonds, in Picardy.

It was onboard the train to take me to Compiègne, from where I was to take the bus to the castle used in that popular BBC show Merlin as Camelot, that the subject of this post really came through. I had been mulling over thoughts until it all came together.

What Is the Point of A Year Abroad?

There is lots of discussion about years spent abroad during your degree; lots of thought about great work experience, improvement of your foreign language skills and an amazing CV on your return home. All of this is true - although you may not be taking a year out in a country which speaks another language - but I cannot help feeling that these people are missing some other, equally valuable, points which are worth considering in conjunction with your employability.

Looking Back

Many people are prone to doing this. Many others, equally, dismiss it as a waste of time - why would you look back on your past, when there is so much ahead of you with which to occupy your time?

Overcoming Embarrassment

Whilst there are many uber-confident beings in the world of languages, I, like many others I'm sure, have struggled with a deep sense of embarrassment when it comes to actually using my language skills.

A Happy New Year... for most.

Admittedly, this is not an entirely happy message. Whilst Christmas was great and New Year celebrations promised to be eventful for most, events unwound throughout December in other parts of the world that for many in their daily lives may have gone unnoticed or, at least, was not really thought about.

I refer to the gang rape of a young woman which took place on a bus in New Delhi, in India.

It's all fun and laughter until your heating and hot water vanish. Again.

With my missing iPod, regular lack of heat and hot water, and nigh-on two-week flu-type illness my mother is convinced I find everything simply awful here. Whilst I admit sleeping in hoodies and dressing gowns is not joyful, my mother's beliefs are not true. I just call her when I'm grumpy. So without further ado or further complaint, I move on to the marvellous aspects of my time here France...

Appreciation and anticipation

Either because you enjoy these posts, or because you haven't seen my constant plugging on various social media sites, you may have noted my absence of late. Two and a half weeks, in fact. I do apologise.

Picking up almost directly where I left off.

I did walk those three kilometres to school. I wish I'd taken the bus, or at least stuck to the route I'd got used to taking.

L'Anglaise. The English Girl. ("Imogen" is hard.)

When I get round to posting this, it will no longer be, but it is currently Tuesday 9^th October, and I am in the dressing gown that I scoffed at my mother for bringing to me, eating Lays Barbecue flavoured crisps. I am the epitome of sophisticated, I am sure you will agree.

Where to begin...

Well it's been a busy few days, that I cannot deny. Yesterday was the first day I haven't gone outside, and instead I filled it with paperwork that is so typical of France, I just can't explain it. If any other assistants here are reading this, I'm sure you feel my pain.

La vie en Haute-Normandie

Yesterday could so easily have gone terribly from the moment I got up.

"Ça va, mademoiselle...?"

I know I only updated yesterday afternoon, but even a few small tasks can provide enough entertainment for a blog post (or probably more).

Arriving in France

Journeying to France was not as easy as I thought it would be. There was me telling my mom I'd rather get trains than fly because it would be a simple trip...

In which I am rather patriotic about the Olympics.

We're a somewhat self-deprecating nation and London 2012 is over.

Now there's a statement.

In which I create a new theme.

In trying to establish how best to document my year abroad, I've clearly taken up this blog again, and a bit more regularly. But also I decided to make some videos from time to time. I'll be referring to the theme as "Confessions of a Year Abroader". I'm no professional, I don't aim to be (although please change the quality from lowest to highest - for some reason my camera decided to ignore HD-quality this time round) but sometimes it's easier to talk than to type. Today I have the first, although it isn't really year-abroad related, more just confession-y and a bit rambly. I think a lot, in case you hadn't already guessed.

In which I make a request.

I hope some of the friends I had in Sixth Form read this. This one is to you.

Apologies if this comes across at all sentimental. It's nearly three o'clock in the morning and my plan is to hit "publish" without re-reading it or I'll refuse to put it on the Internet at all.

So I came across my yearbook tonight. I say yearbook, I mean the notebook a certain person bought for me as I was too stubborn to buy the actual yearbook. Regardless, it's been a while since I actually read it and curiosity got the better of me.

It's been a confusing and downright mental couple of years over here, and the last couple of months have been particularly hard. I say that, but I don't really know if they've been worse than others - memory is a funny thing. But tonight when I read the words so many of you had thoughtfully and honestly put down on paper in your own handwriting about school, things we'd done together and your thoughts about me, I had a number of realisations, particularly about myself, that I couldn't really put into words if I tried. You seem to have seen things in me that I never fully appreciated. I wonder if any of you have that, where you suddenly know something but you cannot really explain quite what it is?

To those of you to whom I've barely spoken in the last two years, I don't think many of you would have recognised me if you'd seen me at university. I've not been the same person I once was at school and in Sixth Form. Although I half knew this myself, the words you wrote down in this book have really just kicked it into me, and I'm determined to be at least some of that person - hopefully the good bits! - that I once was. I'm not going to quote it or refer to specific things, I just want you to know that your eighteen- (or seventeen-) year-old selves have just helped out twenty-year-old me. So thank you.

And if any of you who wrote in that book are actually reading this, please contact me (if you feel you want to, of course). I mean this especially to those whose contact with me has been sporadic or nil. I want to know what's happening in your lives, I want to know how you are, what you've done and who's affected you in the last two years since I may have seen you. I've come to a point where I no longer care quite so much who thinks what about whom (and hasn't that been a long time coming) and I just want to know about you. I want to re-establish contact, and links. I know you can't go back to the way things used to be as so much is different now, although I'd love to just be a fly on the wall of the common room during our Sixth Form for a little while. But just because we left school, it doesn't mean we have to leave lives.

So here we go, I'm about to click that "publish" button... Five, four, three, two, on-