Myric Andreasen
…and I am not talking about last May’s end-of-the-world sensation that stirred some people to panic. I am talking about our life in Nice has finally came to its end.
Everything was all packed. The home decorations were down. The bed-sheets had been stripped off. Threw all the leftover foods from the fridge before it reaches expirations. Packed all the souvenirs and belongings we could take home and gave away the extras that wouldn’t fit in suitcases. The shelves, kitchen cupboards and closets are empty now. The walls looked the same as it was when we first found it. Yet, there were farewell dinners to attend to.
Our friends asked me what were the highlights of my stay here in Nice. I usually gave a blank stare, trying to recall all good memories I had during a year and a half stay in Nice France. Sad to say only bad memories were the first ones to pop-out in my head, in contrary to what they expected to hear. So poor friends ended-up hearing complains and depressing stories instead. Maybe because this chapter of my life began with difficulty adjusting culturally and socially. I didn’t know any French the first time I came to France. English skill did not matter much because, most French rather use language of their own. I needed to learn this foreign language in order to communicate and get by in everyday life.
This is where I used to walk everyday
Some of you may have heard that I was required to take French classes as a new law for immigrants and people who held visiting visas. It was a pain to sit on the class all day without understanding any word my teacher says. Those were the longest days. But on the bright side, the class had given me confidence to go outside and push me out of my comfort-zone. I made friends using a small amount of French I know. But even though I sounded like a kindergarten, the French were delighted to hear me speak their language and did not care how I tragically butchered the accent. They didn’t mind to correct me at all. They actually enjoyed it. I find them interesting. I learned and admired their culture of elegance and sophistication
The same confidence had expanded my boundaries and explores of what I call an unknown terrain of different parts of France to as far as Italy. We’ve had unforgettable memories such as excruciating summer-heat in Paris and the snow covered the palm trees during the rare bad winter once I had in Nice or rainy vacation in Rome Italy. No unpleasant weather stopped us from appreciating Western Europe’s rich history.
Good-byes are not always pleasant. I cried over memories and the fact that a year and a half is not enough to fully enjoy the beauty of culture and stunning landscapes of French Riviera. As we bade our farewell kisses to our friends, we left with a promise that we would come visit them again.
I am afraid there are things that I would eventually forget. The French grammar may the first one to go and followed by the proper intonation of French accent and soon the vocabularies I memorized easily. As we go back to U.S, there maybe things I would forget like details of sculptures on that old building across from our window apartment which was the very first thing I see when I wake and before I close my eyes at night. I might forget the smell of freshly baked baguettes on the streets, and or the taste of the traditional Niçoise cuisine.
Like the sight of Cote d’Azur slowly fading away from the clouds when we flew away, there are memories that I may soon forget but there are some that I wish to remain, like how I used walk along the Promenade des Anglais with dogs I used to sit. Same place where Jon and I walked talked and shared insights about life while sipping a nice cup of espresso in bright colored cafés.
As I end this chapter of my life, I re-think again for more appropriate response that I could give the next time somebody would ask me for highlights of our stay in France.
Me, Jon and the Riviera
There’s something about France that stirs up an artist’s creativity to paint, create poems or timeless stories. Maybe it’s the people’s great respect for art or could be their rich history that has inspired me to create stories that I may someday share to my children. Stories that someday would tell how God faithfully blessed us with a very significant year in Nice la Belle (Beautiful Nice). Stories of praise that would bring glory to God. The same stories that will testify to others that God remained true to the promise to be with us all the time and will always be as another chapter of our life begins.
Kissing France goodbye
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