Wednesday, February 24, 2016

A tourist in my own city

Hi friends.  I've decided to veer back to the original purpose of this blog - that is, reflecting on my expat experiences and NOT publishing rant after rant surrounding my general introverted discontentedness.  I'm truly not unhappy, but when I start to write, all of my inner frustrations come out in a kind of cathartic word vomit.  Good for my psyche, maybe not so enjoyable to my readers.

I will start with one complaint, however.  This little sourness prompted my day's activity, so I feel it bears a small amount of explanation: I'm job hunting.  No revelation here, but it really sucks.  I don't think going into too many details would be productive, but over the past few weeks, I've generally felt that my very existence is of absolutely no consequence.  I can't figure out what my passion is in life, can't figure out what I'm really good at, can't figure out where I could make the most fruitful contribution.  On top of that, there's a pesky black hole on the other end of my email server, as clearly none of the dozens of inquiry emails I've sent out have reached a single recipient.  The answers I do get back have been more often than not discouraging and sometimes downright snotty.  So I'm feeling kind of down on myself right now and frustrated that I don't see any progress.  On one specific note - I'm working on a TEFL certification so that I can apply to teaching jobs.  If anyone has any advice on how to get into teaching, I would greatly appreciate it.  I know it's a domain that requires more than just a quick certification, but I want to try teaching English while I'm here for various reasons.

In any case, I've been a less-than-pleasant bedfellow the past few weeks because of the job hunt stress, and I'm also bored up to my eyeballs while on vacation.  It's also worth mentioning that my master's program doesn't have classes this semester, just independent research.  I'm so starved for structure, it's ridiculous.  I'm taking two really great French courses, so at the very least I have that.

In the depths of my first-world despair, I decided to get out of the apartment today and go enjoy Lyon like a tourist.  I loved doing this when I lived in DC, since there's no end of touristy things to do and places to see in Washington.  (I would have lived on the Mall if I could.  I certainly ran around it while marathon training enough times.)  I was really looking for an excuse to get out and remind myself why I'm grateful to be here, living in France.  It can feel like an endless cycle of hardships and frustrations.  Sometimes, not very often, I think back to the life I left in DC.  I was independent with two jobs that paid enough-ish.  I had fun friends, an athletic hobby that kept me busy and put me in contact with wonderful people.  I lived in one of the coolest cities in the world, only a mile or two from Barack.  It's always so easy to look back only see the positive in a situation I know in my heart was never ideal.  Especially at a mentally and emotionally exhausting time like this.  And I don't just mean the job hunting.  Living the bohemian expat life is not glamorous - it comes with a unique set of hurdles and nary a real guidebook.  Then again, I live in France!  Who cares what I have to deal with?  I'm literally living the (a) dream!  For all the cigarette smoke and annoying, confusing bisous, this is such a beautiful country, and I'm kind of in an ideal situation.  I get to be in grad school, speak a foreign language, absorb a whole culture, and I live relatively comfortably.  I pay pennies for my education and healthcare.  I'm not in debt, I'm not starving, and I'm enriching my life in a way that never would have been possible had I stayed in DC.

With all that in mind, I set out today to one of my favorite parts of the city, Vieux Lyon.  Vieux Lyon is the old part of the city (vieux = old), and it looks the most storybook European.  It's pretty touristy on the weekends, so I felt a Wednesday afternoon would be an ideal time for a stroll through its cobblestone streets.  My mission was to get away from the cliché, wander the back streets, and snap pictures of anything that piqued my interest.

To set the scene, the charming, narrow streets of Vieux Lyon:





On the weekends, and in the summer, these streets are usually so packed it's almost impossible to move.  Even today, the main street was a little crowded.  As such, I kept to the most deserted passages.  I love how the old buildings lean in toward each other over the street, veiling the ground in musty antiquity.  You can smell the thousand year history mingling with that distinct scent of baking bread.  It feels ancient, as though this quartier is in suspension, completely at ease with the patina of its beautiful decay.  Everything rests in an organic color, each building appearing to have grown up from the earth abiding by the color palette of nature.  Nothing gaudy or garishly modern.  

Further in my tour, I encountered a little more color and character.


The color on this storefront was actually shocking to me.  The brilliance caught the corner of my eye as I walked by, and I had to cross the street to take in its full glory.  This picture really doesn't do justice to the deep midnight purple, glowing even in the daylight.  I want to find this paint color and paint myself an accent wall in the home of my dreams.



This is my very favorite apartment in all the city.  Every time I walk by, I admire the graceful glass front, the blush of the façade, the thoughtful arrangement of potted plants, up to the jaunty, cheerful turrets of the roof.  It looks out on the Saône river, so whatever lucky person lives here even has a nice view...


The Bad Boy Café ;)

After Vieux Lyon, I mounted the steep hill up to La Croix-Rousse, which overlooks the city.  I stumbled upon a Roman-Gallic ruin on my way that I'd had no idea existed... something that I surely could never had done in the US!




Finally, I made my way back into the city at Hôtel de Ville, where it was once again crowded.  I gave myself permission to wander over to my favorite sparkly display and gawk at a few of girl's best friends:


As I stood admiring each display, "Moon River" à la Breakfast at Tiffany's popped into my head, and I had to wistfully tear myself away, sans croissant ou robe de Givenchy, malheureusement.  I was rewarded with some premature, confused blossoming magnolia trees in front of the Palais du Commerce.

After my tour, I'm feeling refreshed from my internal stagnation.  It's always helpful to gain perspective and to proactively search out those little reasons why life really isn't so bad right here and right now.  I don't know how long I'll be living in France or what opportunities I may find to leave or stay.  The future doesn't really matter in the present, and neither will have the best chance of being rich and bountiful if all I focus on is disgruntled whining.  Life is what you make of it, and today I made a happy memory.

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