Ces collines, est-ce qu’ils me libèrent ou m’enchaînent? Mon esprit était agité. Mais peut-être, c’est ce dont j’ai besoin.
(English version is found down below!)
Sur la route au Beaujolais à partir de Pérouges…une route sinueuse!
Je suis un peu perdue. Je suis allée à Pérouges et au Beaujolais il y a deux semaines. Parmi les collines, j’étais étonnée de combien de sol que je puisse voir. Il y avait 80% de la terre et 20% du ciel. Tout ma vie, j’ai seulement vécu sur la plaine de la côte du Texas. C’est plat. Je regarde vers l’horizon où la mer rencontre le ciel, et mes pensées arrêtent là. Mais ici entre les collines et des montagnes, je ne sais pas où de regarder. Et je continue d’avoir tout ces pensées.. Je me demande si Van Gogh, Cézzane, et des autres artistes ont vu ces collines, et c’est ce qui les a rendus fous de peinturer avec tant d’émotions.
Je suis débordée par l’architecture de la France. Tout est vieux. On me rappelle constamment que les États-Unis est relativement jeune. Au Beaujolais, les maisons sont construites avec le même couleur de la terre et des falaises malgré ils sont éloignés de autres maison. Les Pièrres Dorées appartiennent à cette region. Ils maintiennent toujours un sens de la communauté. Ils semblent aussi de faire face partout où ils veulent. Il n’y a pas de carrés et de grilles, seulement la nature. Je trouve ça attachant.
80% Land, 20% Sky, 100% Lost
(English, longer, and casual version)
On the road to the Beaujolais from Pérouges. It was a windy one.
I remember waking up on my third morning in Paris. I forgot where I was. Was I really on the opposite side of the planet? I felt the same! But as soon as I get to the restroom, I remember how drastically different things are in France. My daily morning routine now consists of 1) reminding myself that the toilet is separate from the shower, 2) that I must share the restroom, and 3) worrying about having no shower curtains. Using the public toilets also have been an adjustment for me. It’s great that toilet doors reach the floor, but it seems to defeat the purpose of not being adequately aerated. Speaking about aeration, I am sad to have no A/C. Several times, I have napped in 90 degree weather with only the occasional breeze from my open window. I have never appreciated windows so much. The A/C and the toilets are things that I miss from the US. They’re one of those things that, “You don’t know what you’ve got until it’s gone.”
That being said, of course, my disappointment are only my faults, not the French. When you’ve lived in a place for so long, you hold onto these expectations. The A/C and toilet situation came as a total shock for me because I expected France to be a developed country, which it is. But of course, old architecture takes time to be modernized. The French cannot simply start breaking down historic walls to integrate A/C units and a toilet fan. They have been well and living well without certain things. This is just one of the many examples where I am glad to be a bit more cultured.
I keep getting reminded how young United States is. Lyon’s history dates way back to 43 BC and some ruins still lie in public places for all to see. It seems like the French must always, no matter what, protect their history and heritage when constructing new buildings and carrying out new projects. And they seem to be doing a great job doing so.
From Paris to Lyon, the amount of “Frenchness” that is in their architecture astonishes me. I appreciate the Haussman style buildings and the their little stores underneath. I find it practical and endearing that houses are made with the same local golden stone. There is a sense of community among the countryside even though houses are far apart.
In addition to the super windy drive, I felt lost and dizzy among the hills of the Beaujolais. The landscape felt like 80% land and 20% sky. But it was so open. I’ve never thought of looking at hills as essentially “looking at a lot of ground”. Oh, how freeing it is to think, “I wonder what is going on over there? Should I get there? How can I get there?” I’ve lived on the plain Texas coast my entire life. Things are flat. I see a horizon, and my thoughts sort of end there. But in France, it’s so bizarre for me to be around lumpy hills everywhere. The houses on the hills are also non-uniform. They seem to face wherever they want to face. No grids, no lines. Even the streets aren’t in squares. I am so used to seeing defined shapes, that I find myself not knowing what to think of these countrysides. I am overwhelmed!