First, I'd like to say THANK GOD FOR OBAMA! Congrats you guys!! Sounds like we'll soon be headed in a generally positive direction. Hope the economy improves sooner rather than later, but hey, what goes up must come down.
This trip has been quite an adventure, and it's not over yet! Seeing my friend in Toulouse was refreshing-- a person that I could talk to, and relate with. We went out as a family one night and there was a big festival going on for apparently the Toulouse marathon? We weren't exactly sure for what, but there was an awesome French ska band playing, and all of these paper-machay (sp?) animals, and people drumming. Tanja (friend) and I found a really neat Asian store and I bought a beautiful black oriental dress. We went to the Cathedrale Jacobins where St. Thomas Aquinas was buried (it's enormous and eerily empty). Saw the Toulouse bridge, found a really amazing tea shop, and then stayed in her house admiring the country side and lounging. (By the way, the picture with the clothes hanging, on the wall it says "Fashion is misery". I thought this was great because one of my biggest problems with merging with European lifestyle is the absolute necessity to look your best, have nice clothes, and appreciate/buy into "la mode".)
Chartres wasn't exactly what I thought it was going to be. As I went more north it became bitterly cold, and I wasn't prepared for it at all living in Provence. Immediately bought a fluffy scarf, some gloves, and come Converse. Walked the whole town three times. It's nice, just another town. The cathedral is absolutely overwhelming. Beautiful, but at first you walk in and you just have to stop. It's so enormous, with many different sections you can enter into and pray at or light candles. Old, beautiful carved wood confession boxes (is there a proper word?) line the basilica, and the stained glass is immaculate. The day I went in it was spitting out rain, so it was a very somber, dark setting. Nothing affected me the way I thought it would-- you know, the emotional, spiritual "OH MY JEEESUUSSS! I'M SAVED!". However, I believe that was the day that I really started reflecting on myself. I realized that I couldn't quiet my mind to meditate or pray. I walked outside, thinking of trying to find a Moleskine to buy to start journaling, but the rain was heavier, and it was freezing, and there were old toothless men haggling me for money because I was a church-going Christian so obviously I would give them my money, so I returned back into the safety and comfort of the cathedral. Right as I walked in, someone started playing the organ, and then it hit me. I just started crying. This move, and trying to avoid the pain of this move by shoving myself into school work has been emotionally and mentally exhausting, and I couldn't slow down, and I wasn't looking inward, so I broke down. It was nice and very necessary, but not the most comfortable way to spend a nice chummy fall break. By the way, the hotel I stayed at in Chartres was called "Hotel Marmotte". You know, like the animal? there were little drawings of the little furry creature everywhere. Okay, well I thought it was funny. Oh, and my camera DIED while I was in the cathedral, and I didn't bring my charger. :D
So then I took my bags and hauled off to Geneva. My step-brother (David, who I've met twice and is 36, Canadian) and his wife (Anne, who I've never met but is a bit older than him, American/French) and two kids (Juliette, 7; Owen, 3) and the au pair (house nanny, Natalia, Brazilian, 26) were there to welcome me, and until the cab right there I completely forgot that it was halloween! Instantly reminded, however, I had two kids hugging my legs, and there was candy everywhere, and chocolate cupcakes, and pumpkins and spider webs. It felt right at home. However, the break down (or rather build up?) of my personality and reflection was only increasing, and I couldn't voice how I was feeling, and was superbly un-eloquent (I really look up to David also, so the intimidation mixed with "I'm lost!" didn't help... plus he's a step-brother, and we've met twice. It's not exactly "HEY BRO! I love you so much!" sort of thing) and I felt so awkward. But I did talk with David about it, and we got at least three core issues nailed down that I definitely need to take a closer look at, and figure out how to deal with. To give you an idea, I am currently reading "The Road Less Traveled: A New Psychology of Love, Traditional Values, and Spiritual Growth" by M. Scott Peck and it is phenomenally helpful.
Friday (the night I got in) I went out with Natalia to go to a couple bars with her and her friends who are also aux pairs (I don't know if I'm spelling that right) and we went to this Irish pub and a really posh, upperscale bar that had projections of women's crotches on the walls. It was interesting. The bar scene just really isn't my sort of thing though, and they recently re-instated a law in Switzerland that you can smoke in bars. So this tinnnnny little Irish pub is packed with Europeans puffing away, and my tiny little American lungs couldn't take it.
On Sunday we went to the hot baths in the middle of the mountains (about an hour car drive) and it is these amazing hot pools with spouts of water that give you back massages, and bubbles everywhere (think giant jacuzzi's) and chair to sit on, benches to lie on (in the water built into the side!!). Plus, it's indoor AND OUTDOOR! So you're outside in this warm water, steam all around you, snow all around you, mountains all around you. Words cannot explain. That night David, Anne and I shared four bottles of wine (maybe five?) and had a great conversation about getting older and realizing the realities of life, but seizing opportunities while sitting next to a fire.
Monday I was supposed to go to Lausanne to see a museum but got sidetracked by 1) sleeping in and 2) talking with Anne and Natalia about breaking up with a boy from Tulsa who I've had "affiliations" with on and off four about four years. Good girl chat. Then Natalia looked up the times of the museum, and lucky I didn't go because it was closed (everything works out for a reason). The next day however I did go, and was in search of a small museum called "Collection de L'Art Brut". It's an amazing museum based around people with mental incapacities or physical handicaps that express themselves artistically, So there's people who claim they've been possessed, people who are into spirits, and say that their art is a mediumistic revelation, people who have mental retardations, or autism, the clinically insane, or people who have been ostracized from societies and literally follow no social bounds. It was really an emotional experience at first. They have a Japanese exhibition up right now, and I was overwhelmed with happiness that these people are viewed and treated as humans, regular functioning beings with emotions, and feelings. Usually, they're set apart. Someone would look at a handicapped persons art and think "Well, they're just handicapped, it's rubbish" and throw it away. However, the mediums they think of, and the level of creativity and innovative ideas is amazing and inspirational. But it was also a very empathetic time for me... I felt like I've been that weird person my whole life, and until I was trained to abide by society, no one gave a shit about me or what I had to say or contribute, even though it could've been a lot. So what, someone has gone to a psychiatric hospital, or believes in things that don't fit a stereotypical society? Does that make them any less human?
It was a beautiful museum, and I bought three books, and highly recommend it.
Now I'm in Zermatt and again, it's been phenomenal. The train ride up here was gorgeous, and I feel like I have gained a fresh perspective on people and life and handling situations, and how to handle my thoughts when they turn self-diminishing, or life-diminishing. I feel like this is the most I've grown since I was sixteen, probably, and it's because I'm working at it. Tomorrow I think I will go rent hiking boots and go on a hike, see the town, check out the indoor rock climbing. There is fresh snow, so this weekend I'll be skiing!!! AHH!
To finish, here's something I wrote on the train about the scenic view-- completely un-edited, scribbled in my journal (it was hard not to mess with it while I was typing, by the way):
Switerland is... so beautiful, for lack of an instant, better phrase. The sun is framed by green and brown spotted mountains, some in the distance prematurely ready for winter with their white caps. Thick clouds of either smoke or steam are billowing off of this steep rock slab that's towering over my train. The villages are peaceful because the trees are peaceful. This is a place of God and serenity. The trees are gold, yellow, red, orange, green brown-- all in varying hues. I feel welcomed, and immediate comfort. Tiers of rocks with their sandwiched shrubbery greet me on my right, the height of my oppressing mountainous friends luminous and sacred. Small slits of rain appear on my window, horizontal as the steel beast pushes forward through the intimidating grey and mist, a premonition for cold rain and drab settings. The mountains overlap each other. The amount of space they must occupy! It's weird how they fit like geographical puzzle pieces on a flawlessly constructed map. This place is a place of serenity and God. Enerygy is made by wind as a giant white propeller spins to my left, as if to pay homage to an unforseen force that keeps the otherwise inanimate object lively and turning. A beautiful, awe-astounding white stream pours from a cliff, foaming onto its boundaries before cascading down to the more still plain it will reach at its depths. These people have conquered the mountains. They are livable and respected-- mughty, but not feared-- and in ways man has set home on the mountain's wake, but the themselves will never be tamed. I don't even know in which direction to turn my head. I'm more inclined to look right as I am sitting on the right side of the bus, but as I remember that this beautiful omnipotently surrounds me, I look left, am immediately overwhelmed, and return to my 2-D view on the right. If I were to embrace a panoramic view right now.. what would happen? The train hulls to a stop in Martigny and two rapid-chatter Swiss girls sit opposite of the aisle from me, smiling, talking, not bothering me but if they were, they would be blissfully unaware. The train trudges on and I realize the nape of the meniscus, before the mountains begin, is lush vibrant green. How I love fall! How absolutely lucky and thankful I am! I hurry to think or the way to best experience this-- to soak it all up, to not take for granted. I sit and stare. I think I'll eat that hot dog that Natalia packed for me.
