Closing This Blog Out (Part 2)

So now I should write about the last 2 weeks of the program. But honestly, the last 2 weeks were a blur while I was there and are even more of a blur now. I knew that time was slipping away so I was trying to soak up as much as I could in the little time that I had left. We had one last official excursion to Avignon and Pont du Gard, and we had our last week of classes. We had our last weekend in Aix, which included a Franglais Party, and we had Bastille Day. We had finals and we had a day-trip to Porquerolles (which happened to be on my 21st birthday). It all went by so fast and before I knew it, I was packing and walking to the bus station at 4am.

Our last night in Aix was so strange. We decided to go to Auberge Hugo and drink wine together, to end the summer the way we had started it. We sat around the table just talking and drinking and it all felt so bittersweet. We had just experienced an amazing 2 months together, and now it was time to say goodbye. For me, it was really hard. Being one of the few non-Vanderbilt students, I knew that my goodbyes really were goodbyes. I didn't have any see-you-in-August's. As challenging as some of my experiences were, I suddenly wanted to go back and relive all of them. I wasn't at all ready to leave.

And now sitting here, writing this, I'm feeling very nostalgic. I do miss a lot of things about living in France and my experiences there did change me. I was definitely an independent person before going to France, but being there made me incredibly independent. I walked through Aix by myself, had no problem entertaining myself on weekends when my roommates went out of town, and I even rode the metro in Paris by myself at night. So one thing is for sure: I became very independent and very self-reliant. I can see that in myself now, being back in Georgetown. I have no problem eating by myself or spending time by myself; in fact, I enjoy it. Something I really miss about France is the wonderful sense of anonymity I felt there. Just walking down the street...you know no one and no one knows you. There's something so nice about that. Being back at Southwestern is very, very different. Everyone knows you and you know everyone. It makes me feel as though I have really outgrown Southwestern.

I think I grew up a lot in France. My priorities changed and although I wasn't good friends with everyone in my program, I liked the majority of the people I surrounded myself with while I was there. Even though a lot of my friends there were younger than I was, they were far more mature than people my age here at Southwestern. I don't want this to turn into a rant/vent session, but I'm seeing that I grew up a lot in France and now I'm back in an environment that has the potential to stunt my growth and really, anyone's growth.

Anyway, back to the subject at hand. There are times when I know that I wouldn't last a year if I went to France for that long, but there are also times when I wish I had the opportunity to try it. If my priorities earlier in college had been different, maybe I would have gone for a year instead of just for the summer. But there's no point in wondering. I know that the experience I had is one that I will never have again, and I'm just really hoping that the memories I have will stay fresh and vivid in my mind. I also hope that one day I can return to Aix and retrace all my steps, reliving summer 2009.

This post seems to wrap things up, but I think of France and this past summer frequently, so I can't say that this will be the last post. I'll probably end up back on here every so often to reminisce and think of France. Right now, I'm listening to a song on repeat that I listened to on my computer a whole gosh darn lot while I was in Aix. Sitting here, listening to this song is kind of overwhelming. I don't see myself in my apartment in Georgetown--I see myself in my apartment in Aix, sitting at my desk, with my roommate Kim sitting next to me at her desk. There's warm air coming through the window to the right and the fan on Kim's desk is rotating, bringing short bursts of relief. It's funny how a song can transport you to a different place. I never want to forget anything about being in France. I want to remember every single moment--the good and the bad--because they all combined to create one unique experience.

I want to remember all the people in my program.
I want to remember the heat.
I want to remember walking to family dinner.
I want to remember my host parents and our conversations at the dinner table.
I want to remember all the weekly excursions.
I want to remember exploring Aix.
I want to remember sleeping with the windows open, hearing all the noises in the streets.
I want to remember late night conversations.
I want to remember all the nights of wine drinking at Auberge Hugo.
I just want to remember everything.


Aix me manque.