They vacuume TREES here?

One ordinary Saturday morning in late October, I left my apartment on bike to go do my Saturday grocery shopping, as I had done every other ordinary Saturday morning since late August.

Biking half-attentively along the familiar route, down tree-lined streets, I noticed something strange: there was not ONE TRACE of a leaf anywhere to be seen...though just days prior, the platain trees were more than lush and thriving...

"WTF>? Did I sleep through a freakin' HURRICANE last night? Perhaps a TORNADO?"

I continued biking along, laughing to myself, feeling a bit strange. It was like a dream...it was as though I had imagined something.

All the other trees in the neighborhood still had their leaves, and the weather certainly had not indicated any drastic changes...so I reached the conclusion that someone had removed the trees' leaves, perhaps due to some biological plague...(?)

About 4 days later, leaving work on bike, I noticed another line of trees whose leaves were missing...and when I say these trees were BARE...I mean BARE; it was like the Ren and Stimpy episode where Ren loses his teeth thus exposing his loose gums and nerve endings...

figuring there was some plague hitting the treets in Strasbourg, I tried inspecting the trees. They looked fine...? SO STRANGE!

It was not until one late night, leaving from a bar, a little bit tipsy, that I found the answer to this phenomenon! Tracing my steps back from a public square near my workplace, I spotted a truck with a ladder-lifted plank risen in the air, upon which a man stood with a gigantic vacuume. A TREE VACUUME.

"VOOOOOOM!" little by little, the guy SUCKED OFF every leaf from the tree with his over-sized white vacuume contraption, leaving the branches bare and twiggy.

I wanted to ask WHY THE HELL he would do such a thing, but I figured I'd sound like a "silly American" (not that I didn't hear that or feel that way every day) and decided to keep my mouth closed.

I resolved to ask some collegues what was going on, and at first they acted like I was crazy. "What do you mean? The leaves just FELL!" they told me. I couldn't tell if they were joking...but, I realized later that they had not noticed the bare trees lining the streets. I guess the advantage of biking and walking around so much is that you pick up on these things...

Pointing out to a collegue one afternoon the absence of leaves (down the same street I had initially travelled down that ordinary Saturday morning) I insisted that the city men had taken the leaves away...(again, feeling like a paranoid crazy-lady, searching mysterious for "the others,") but it was quickly understood:

"Oh sure, THOSE trees' leaves are removed to prevent their naturally-slow fall. If they remove them now, the city avoids the monotonous task of sweeping the streets."

Though I knew very well at this point how well-kept the city parks and streets are in Strasbourg, I didn't know why the leaf-covered streets were of any concern, but my collegue explained that pedestrians could easily slip on the leaves, given the amount of rainy, slippery days in Strasbourg...

"OH sure!" I thought to myself..."HOW CONSISTENT!" Paris doesn't have ramps, handicapped access, operating elevators or escalators to access the most crucial of desintations, but Strasbourg worries about old people walking around the leaf-covered backstreets going nowhere!!!! hahaha. I love the French.

Sunday Moldy Sunday...

Weekends in Strasbourg have been pretty darn really relaxing; especially when compared to my "previous life" back in the States which entailed super-packed weekends and minimal "free-time" for myself.

Though it was certainly an unseen/unplanned aspect of my time in Europe (that is, previously having thought I'd be sharing my experiences here with C), I've learned to be/live/pass my time ON MY OWN, and have grown particularly fond of all this time to myself! (Especially since now it is well-spent in my own quarters/my OWN space! Living alone is such a treat, I tell you!

Walking around naked, eating when (and what) I like, and exercising like a madwoman only to chow down on sweets to follow, all go unquestioned/unseen by "judging eyes."
Better yet, organizing, reconfiguring or DITCHING "my schedule" completely affects no one for the worst; I can waste my day, or live it up to its absolute fullest without being pressured by someone else to "follow the herd," to "turn in" or to "get going." And these are just some of the advantages; doing this all in EUROPE has added benefits for sure. I've done and seen more things ALONE than I EVER could have done in company...and for that, I'm quite glad things didn't work out "to plan."

When I'm alone, I dare to risk; experiences are rich, and adventure are valuable. Whether it be going to the opera dressed to the nines, tanning nude in Germany's Roman-baths, taking 10-hour bike-trips, trekking sleeplessly across international borders to create fantastic travelling-memories and ravish the random romantic affairs (see "vacation" entry), I don't think I would have had the chance to do a lot of the things I've managed to do, had I been "in company."

However, my particular situation (living alone in Alsace) has come to offer just as many disadvantages as it has advantages. Before explaining why, I will have to do some retracing:

Back in October, I gave my notice at "Rue de Bitche" - my old apartment, with less-than-ideal living conditions (see blog-post entitled Rue de Bitche for an explanation,) and between adjusting to a new job, waiting for my pay check and health insurance (see "Administrative Problems" blog posting) I was feeling the pressure to hunt down a new apartment.

Sundays were entirely dedicated to hunting...all over again (after all, I had JUST moved to France 2 months prior) and when I had no HITTERS after 4 consecutive Sundays, I resolved to hop on the first opportunity that arose:

Sometime in November, a man showing an apartment just north of Strasbourg told me he had a property that would be opening up in December (and this was after telling me the apartment I had originally COME to check out had been already taken...) "PERFECT TIMING," I thought! I would need to move into a new apartment by late December, or early January...

We checked out the other property just a tram-ride away, and I immediately decided I'd take it once I laid my eyes on it; a fairly good-looking/shapely building off the main drag, but near public transportation, ground-floor with a small garden-space, a "furnished" studio with large bathroom...too good to be true!!

Come December, though, I had to arrange to pay rent for the new place (in order to hold my spot) as well as my OLD apartment's "last month" rent - and not to mention the last sum for the month of January - ALL BEFORE taking a trip back to the States for Christmas...(which was an expensive journey in and of itself!)

It was finals time at school, and I was completely loaded with corrections to finish and hand-in; stressed and with little time to BREATHE, I managed to squeeze in 1 Sunday to make the big move before leaving on a jet plane to the States.

A collegue of mine was generous to come meet me with her car to speed up the moving process (though I didn't have MUCH stuff - just clothes and books - it was really helpful!) since I knew I'd have to settle in quickly.

Unfortunately, that SUNDAY turned out to be much more than a move...which ordinarily don't stress me out whatsoever...

My collegue and I arrived to the building to find an abandoned cat roaming around in my EMPTY (NOT "furnished" studio apartment) !!!!!! AN ABANDONED CAT!!!!!!!!!!!! WTF????????

The cat was really a KITTEN though- a male, in heat (they start young I guess?) and though he was SUPER-sweet and SCARED as hell, I had NO IDEA how to react. SURE: I felt TERRIBLE that he had been left BEHIND without water or food (who could DO such a thing? The fucking animal - and I don't mean the cat!) but the poor thing had pee-peed on the floor (and had done who knows what to the mattress that had been left behind). All I could think of was...'where do I put my stuff?' WHAT NEXT????????

A part of me wanted terribly to watch over the sweet little thing, but 1) I didn't want to get attached to the animal, since I owe my loyalties 100% to my beautiful baby that awaits me at home - MY DOG, Byndee that is- and 2) I don't like cats ALL that much... 3) I gag at the scent of kitty litter: BLECK! and 4) I'd have to leave for the States 2 days later & wouldn't be able to get anyone to watch over her in that time, let alone finding a new home for him once I moved back for real.

So, I had to react quickly, and decided to get in touch with animal authorities rather than waiting for my (conveniently ABSENT and "missing" landlord), which had been MIRACULOUSLY open that Sunday for a donation-drive (the most miraculous part of that day for sure!) By noon, the services scooped him up & assured me he'd be given a nice home...leaving ME a place to begin MY OWN place called "home."

Yet my collegue scolded me, insisting that I couldn't even consider moving into the apartment under such horrible conditions. "A HOME!?!?" She only laughed; for there was not even a toilet seat left behind...no light fixtures (well, except the 1 light bulb that had been left behind - along with its exposed wires hanging down from the ceiling) and not to mention the left-over cat-pee. I knew it was SICKENINGGGGGGGG.

But after letting out some tears and sobs, I told her that I'd have no choice but to accept and make the best of it all. THIS WOULD BE MY HOME. (Realistically, there was NO WAY to move out after throwing out so much money that month, and after having already bought my tickets to go home for the holidays!)

She left, and I got to my NEW place. I spent the ENTIRE day cleaning my head off, and crying that Sunday...I felt MORE ALONE than I had ever felt in my life.

But luckily - since I had still been PAYING for my old apartment - I went back to my old bed to get some shud-eye. (After all, I couldn't yet SLEEP in my new apartment since I had no way of buying anything on a SUNDAY to furnish the place, let alone get ready for WORK the next day!)

Ahhh...SUNDAYs in France: all the stores are closed. This of course is geared towards the familial-life; all the families stay inside, which is lovely in theory, but pretty shitty for a single (American) woman :-) Indeed, at the time, it seemed like double-punishment/a dummy-wammy- a SLAP in the face: I was not ONLY alone...but I was without resources.

In any case, the lack of eventfulness on Sundays brings me back to TODAY:
A random SUNDAY in MAY:

Being given the time, I managed to complete a thorough inspection of my apartment space this morning, due to certain suspicions that my APARTMENT has been causing me to fall ill all the time...

That is - ever since I returned from the States last December (and moved into my new place "officially") I have been getting NASTY colds - especially when returning home from x or y travel destination- and I mean really nasty colds!

If not for the "timing" reason, there are several other reasons to believe this is the case:

Reason 2: Since it's been so damn rainy here, I've stayed in a lot (as opposed to going running and biking) which has caused me to feel EXTREMELY TIREDDDDD and lethargic (and not in the normal "I've done nothing today" kind of lazy way...)

Reason 3: a heightened cold started this past Thursday...perhaps due to this event: Having washed by hand and put to dry in my room (well, my STUDIO, lol) an over-sized sweater last Tuesday, I chose to throw on the sweater and get to work the following Thursday. I got to school at 8am realizing the sweater was DRENCHED (and terriblyyyy smelly) due to mold, or fungus. I took it off immediately, although it was really cold outside still, and subsequently found a little rash on my arm. Unfortunately, Thursdays are long days at school, so I didn't get home until later to shower up. I scrubbed down, thinking nothing much of the mold.. until I felt worse on Friday...

This weekend, in looking around my apartment, I've realized that the walls are moldy - just COVERED in paint. Every chance I get, I open the 1 window I have (a door-window) but since it's been raining, it only adds to the moisture in my ground-floor apartment...not to mention the invitation it leaves for ants and bugs to come on in!! UGH!!!

Instead of freaking out, I'm trying to enjoy my free-time...after all, quotidien Sunday-living DOES have its high points/advantages in France :-)

While the families go to church/the temple in Alsace (it being the most religious of areas in France, whereas the rest of the country is very "liaque"/secular) and make their ways to their Sunday dinner tables over televised sports-games...I, a single woman with few friends (hehe, enjoy watching movies, listening to music (REALLY LOUD), cleaning, catching sights on the travel channel or the news on TF1 or EUROnews. These are surely Sunday delights (at least when it's permanently rainy and gray!)

Over coffee with fresh cream from Normandy, or in today's case - tea with milk and honey (to help my nasty, unending cold...arghhh...) I chow down on delicious (fresh) buttered baguettes from the bakery, chopped seasonal fruits, and sparkling water...only to look forward to the next meal :-)

Correcting papers, prepping classes, writing my blog entries, and emailing has also been really soothing during a heavy task of JOB-hunting and applying (all over again...) which I continue to do on my Sundays, ritualistically...

And if I weren't feeling so darn sick (if not due to mold, it's damn positive that it's the stagnant valley that holds pollution in Strasbourg) I'd go to the movies as well - which is seemingly a French Sunday rituel for singles...

Maybe next Sunday. Hopefully it'll be less...MOLDY.

On Abstinence, On HAPPINESS...

I think I was "destined" to abstain from FUN for 4 months upon arriving in Europe last summer. That is, perhaps there was some kind of life-lesson I HAD to learn before appreciating what I had - or, in a Freudian-type analysis: maybe I was LOOKING for abstinence and misery.

Easy enough for me to say this after the fact, since during 4 month's time without television, radio, dining out, sex, visiting with friends (ANY of my favorite things, really) I was DYING for laughter and fun...!

I spent about a month trying to download, stream and watch movies online from my laptop, but PANDORA (free radio) Hulu (free movies and t.v.) were BLOCKED in France (international rights were somehow denied?)

The handful of DVDs I packed with me from the States were unreadable on any Dvd player in France (so buying a cheap portable player wouldn't have been an option, even if I had had any money!) So, When Harry Met Sally, Meet the Parents, Office Space, Borat, Three's Company, Monty Python...all of my favorite "pick me up" movies were nowhere to be found...::sigh:: I hardly could believe it, or as my friend Keti had put it:

"...Really now...I mean....REALLY?"

But I knew things weren't as bad as they SEEMED at the time. I was merely feeling low, but I was STILL in France! While keeping this in mind as often as I could, I decided to pick myself up, and try NEW things...

Not long before receiving my first pay check(which indeed is a story in and of itself!) I took myself out to a professional theater performance of Shakespeare's A Midsummer's Night Dream, using my Boston College student ID (for a reduced price!) I dressed myself up real nice, and took myself out on a date! Though I enjoyed the show, and a beer I admittedly felt a weeeeeeee little bit silly, sitting there by myself; after all, Shakespeare's subtle humour is difficult enough to pick up on & appreciate in English - forget understanding it in FRENCH! People were dying of laughter...and looking around nervously from time to time, not understanding the humour behind the jokes, I managed to giggle at other peoples' reactions...

I also went to the museums as often as I could - seeing that the first Sunday of every month they are FREE in France! Starting with The Fine Arts Museum in Strasbourg, I was very pleased with their selection. Meandering around the museum was relaxing, though it reminded me of C, who used to LOVE art & museums....which in the end made me kind of depressed. The History museums in Strasbourg are outstanding, however. The Historical museum of Alsace is like travelling in time, for real! Lucky for me, I was able to "travel" at all - even if it was all in my head :-) hehe

Yet all this classical-refined-intellectual stuff had never REALLY been my cup of tea, though I considered it important to "check out." Instead of simply checking out the high culture scene, I thought I'd better try something more "up my alley" to pick up my mood: SALSA DANCING! I searched for about a week trying to dig up Southern American hot-spots in Alsace...(but I'll tell you - they're difficult to find!) I surely thought the European Union would have made possible a more "intercultural" night life, but I was proven wrong. (The majority of places to go in Strasbourg are Alsacian pubs, young *high school age* techno clubs, and flammenkuchen/tarte flambee cafes...)

However, luck had it that a man from Peru had recently tried to install "salsa nights" in Strasbourg that August (I found his postings advertised online) and thus decided I'd help promote the up-coming scene by showing up each weekend. (THAT WAS MY PLAN, AT LEAST!)

For the opening night, I found myself in the basement of what was supposed to be a "happening place" I sat down at the bar waiting for the salsa night to begin, but still, at 11 o clock...no one was there (and Strasbourg isn't like Barcelona to say in the least...)

I looked around me, and it seemed like the locals were pretty comfortable - chatting it up with the bartender. I was like the oddball in a CHEERS episode. But around midnight, a middle-aged couple started to dance to the music, and I looked around hoping I might receive an invitation to dance in their suit; I wasn't so far off base, since the salsa INSTRUCTOR (the salsa-nights organizer that is) asked my hand to dance. I was pretty nervous (knowing he'd be a pro) but shimmied my way to the dance floor anyways (at which point - he and I were the only ones dancing!)

And though I had learned how to salsa with a Colombian friend of mine, (and thus was already aware of the "close-up-and-personal-dancing" i.e., no-distance dancing-tendencies of South Americans) I tried my best to FORCE myself to get over the fact/be comfortable with this stranger glued to my body; "just let loose!" I told myself.

Yet after about 10 minutes of dancing, the guy began kissing my neck, half-biting me. I pushed him away, really surprised, after which he said "Oh okay I'm sorry, I won't do it again."

Of course that was a lie though; after all, he DID IT AGAIN.

"DAMNIT!" I thought. I didn't want this bullshit. So, I peeled him off of me, got my things at the bar, and left.

A couple weekends later, I gave dancing 1 more shot, thinking it'd be the SUREST way to pick up my mood & HAVE FUN again....

However, the 2nd night dancing ended up being a bigger let down than the first. This time, though, it was because of my own insecurities and not because of any stranger- weirdo pulling crazy-aggressive stuff on me (like that time at the lake!)

I didn't feel comfortable dancing with any strangers, perhaps BECAUSE of all the weird Frenchies I had recently encountered (I didn't know what they were capable of doing, nor did I know how to READ their signs/behavior) so I sat around at the bar (again) for about an hour & 1/2 before someone asked me to dance. By that point, though I SO WANTED to just get up & get OVER my insecurities already, I hardly FELT like dancing anymore! I was getting tired and grumpy & felt a bit lonely, awkward and ugly - so I really had to force the moves....in fact, it wasn't even like dancing at all...

I'm sure that sex would have been much worse had I tried to cheer myself with any kind of "random hook up" (had I listened to friends telling me that I merely needed a good lay, lololol) that is - I knew I wouldn't have FUN as long as my confidence wasn't there. Getting too choked up...too insecure...my feet were merely fumbling around, and UGH...I REALIZED: THIS IS NOT WHAT I WANT. This is not "happiness."

But what did "happiness" mean to me anyways? All I knew was ephemeral pleasure:

Great pleasures derived from sitting around talking with interesting people (preferably over wine, or beers, and of course, food) - sharing passionately and intellectually (or even in debate-form) about philosophy, and about....well...about ideas in general...about LIFE...!!

Back in Boston, with my Plato group - I had a circle of friends to help realize/actualize these pleasures as well as during my time as an undergraduate student at FSC with the philosophy club and cross country team...

But there were few moments when I thought I knew what the word "happiness" meant.

Thinking about it long & hard (and after re-reading Plato's Philebus) I reflected upon those moments...and realized what each "moment" had in common:

HAPPINESS, for me, is simply when I don't want my moment to end; that is, without even thinking about time, whenever I am MORE than pleased to be doing what I am doing just THEN, without rationalizing, or giving supplementary meaning to it...that is when I am "happy."

The only moments I could think of having such a rush was when I was dancing, or having sex; wherein both cases, time is nonexistent; time would NEVER stop me from feeling elated...for I'd never "stop to think" about stopping.

That feeling...of being REALLY happy in the doing - of whatever it is - is the greatest feeling/the greatest pleasure ever! (More precisely, when you're not thinking about time lost, or time gained, or what work is being forgotten, or WHY we're doing it in the first place, or if it's "up to par" for the other person...no hidden insecurities...ahhhhh!) That's happiness!

I USED to have that feeling while playing soccer, or basketball when I was much younger. There was something AMAZING about being on a team, being in a certain rhythm with familiar faces...having that community, and being in a constant FLOW...of ideas, and action. The DOING of it was a way to derive this feeling of elation. But later, for practical reasons (well, adolescence, mainly) I chose to avoid the team-sport atmosphere (since all the soccer girls were total drunks, and I didn't want to be like them) and running cross country was a great substitute for the the rush of ectascy/elatedness (that I had gotten from soccer), at least for some time...

Soon enough, though, I took on the unnecessary pressure of being competitive, having been told that I had a "real strong potential," that "I was a GREAT leader, and deserved to be captain" - which caused me to see running as being more connected to winning...to losing weight...to being a role model...to being healthy, to being GOOD at something in general - than it was related to HAPPINESS.

(Even though I continue to enjoy running, like I enjoy hiking, biking, swimming, kayaking, I enjoy doing them for other "reasons" other than to "BE HAPPY.") I derive pleasure from doing them...sure! But it's not same as those moments of REAL HAPPINESS...and anyways, unlike the embroidered logo on a "LIFE IS GOOD" baseball cap, happiness does not = running; happiness does not = camping...or anything quite THAT simply-stated! WELL - at least NOT FOR ME.) Happiness is not an activity in & of itself...Aristotle m(aybe mis-phrased the definition, lol, and I knew that I'd have to confront that France/travelling did not = happiness either.

Without friends, partners...reflective mirrors...I'd have to confront Alsace alone - not only to find its hidden gems and fun "activities," but also to unfold the happiness that comes from within...

I suppose abstinence<--- forced me to figure out this process out for myself...I began to lose MAJOR weight...I had NEVER seen myself so damn skinny! (It started to freak me out, as cool as it was to see myself so thin...)

And then, perhaps in stark contradition, other things paved the road towards realizing my own happiness:
1) nights chowing down on gummy-bears, nutella-covered croissants and ice cream, washed down with red wine (i.e., in disgusting myself! ),
2) my sister (who was TOO AWESOME to send me some of my favorite movies online!)
3) my best friend, Jason - who listened to & read all of my damn thoughts - the complaints, the hopes...the fears...everything.