Last Days in France and the "Trip" Home

Preface - I wrote the following on my way back home from France. That's important to know so that you aren't confused by the chronology referred to below.

In the last few days, I've been to Hell, Heaven, and Hell again, all in France. Who would have guessed?

As I was spending the first four weeks enjoying my time in France and exploring Europe on the weekends, I didn't begin writing my 3 papers for my courses until around the time that my first paper was due, which was at the end of the fifth week. I had done cursory research for all 3 papers, but the research for one of them had to abandoned when I realized that the topic I chose was too ambitious. Up until the writing commenced, any work I did consisted of reading (2 or 3 hours per night) or preparing for presentations (2 in the fifth week). Before this program, I had written less than 10 papers in the course of my college career, so the prospect of writing 3 papers in the space of 2 weeks daunted me. Also, I should mention that the papers were 2000, 3000, and 4000 words in length (approximately 6, 10, and 15 double-spaced pages, respectively) and that I could only do research at the Center, because I didn't have Internet access at home.

I wasn't too enthusiastic about the writing, but I was ok with doing the research (aka reading). My topic for the first paper (the 2000 words one) was about the failure of peacekeeping in the face of the Rwandan genocide. In the tiny library we have in the Syracuse Center in Strasbourg, I found a gem of a book called "Shaking Hands with the Devil," authored by the commander of the UN peacekeeping force in Rwanda who was in charge at the time of the genocide. His Canadian voice and evocative powers of description generated a compelling narrative, and as I was flipping through the book looking for specific details that would be relevant to the paper, I caught myself reading whole chapters, which would have been fine if it wasn't slowing down my research. The paper was due officially on Thursday of the fifth week, and I didn't start writing until then. I wasn't able to finish in time, but my professor for that class was an amicable, stocky Norwegian named Jorgen (more on him later) who didn't care much for deadlines, so I finalized the paper and sent it to him on Saturday.

That left the 2 longer papers, 1 for each class, and both due at the end of the program (i.e. Friday of the last week). I decided to begin with the lesser of two evils, the 3000 words paper for Jorgen. The Friday before the last week, I had printed out my research for that paper, which I dredged through over the weekend, stretching into Monday. I aimed to finish the paper by Tuesday, but based on my progress that day, it took me all of Wednesday to finish. So somehow, in 2 days, I had to research and write a 15 page paper. Oh boy, this'll be interesting.

I spent all of Thursday at the Center, searching for anything relevant to my topic online and printing it, and making a very general outline for my paper. Once I had to leave to get home in time for dinner, I poured through the research that evening until I couldn't bear to look at it any more, which ended up being at midnight. Friday, I arrived at the Center right as it was opening at 8 am, facing this task: write a 15 page researched paper by 5 pm. I got right to it... right after checking my e-mail and other "essential" tasks (Facebook, YouTube, etc.), making my paper's official starting time 9 am. From then on, I operated off of pineapple juice (sugar), Coca-Cola (sugar and caffeine), and chocolate (the same), writing as quickly as I could, only pausing to fill in any gaps in my research with more research. At exactly 5 pm, I ascended out of Hell (better known as the basement in the Center, the only place in the building with working Internet) and handed my paper to Jorgen to have him certify that it had met the deadline (the other professor, for whom the paper was due, was not there).

There was one humorous sidenote in that sequence of events that I left out: Earlier that day, I went to ask Jorgen what time he wanted his paper (the one I had already finished) in his inbox, so that I would know whether I had time to proofread and edit it. "Whenever," he agreeably replied. I blinked. "What?" "Yeah, you can even turn it in via e-mail next week." And THAT was when I learned just how flexible his deadlines were. It took all of my willpower to keep from falling to the floor in disgust. This whole time, I could have put off his paper until I got home, which would have given me the full last week to focus on the longer paper and saved me a ton of stress. On the bright side, since I had finished his paper, I would be able to come home without having any papers looming overhead.

Back to 5 pm on Friday: Salvation had arrived. After that last paper, I had nothing left to do that day except meet my fellow classmates and the program administrators for dinner at "Le Jardin de l'Orangerie." I was able to get a free, sumptuous 3-course meal, relax, and reminisce with my friends about all the good times we had in Europe. The rain that had been falling steadily all week had stopped for Friday, so after dinner, we leisurely walked to the Cathedral, along with Jorgen. As a professor in conflict resolution, he's a peaceful man with years of practical field experience, essentially a hippie but with useful ideas instead of pie-in-the-sky ones. He also has a strange Scandinavian sense of humor as he exhibited that night. We encountered a boy that was running around, making a noise that sounded like "Boah!" (pause) "Boah!", similar to a dog's bark. After about a minute of this, out of nowhere, Jorgen emitted a deep, booming "BOAH!" The kid was stunned, afraid of this burly old man who dared to challenge him, cowed into silence as the rest of us laughed. We were a little sad afterwards, worried that Jorgen had scarred the kid for life such that he would never say "Boah!" again. Eventually, at the urging of us and his parents, the kid recommenced the barking, leaving us all relieved and in stitches at what Jorgen had done. I asked him, "Did you do that sort of thing to your kids?" "All the time, and they remember it." I dread the day that I meet his children.

Finally, we arrived at the Cathedral. At this point, it was almost 10:30 pm, and I knew I couldn't stay long, as I had to get home to shower, pack, and sleep for a few hours before meeting my taxi for the Strasbourg airport. But I am glad that I chose to linger, as it was shortly thereafter that a show began. The Cathedral was targeted by a battery of lights, which started alternating on and off in a pre-programmed fashion, accompanied by classical music. The Cathedral was illuminated in spectacular ways, including one where the Cathedral appeared to be bathed in sunlight. In that moment, surrounded by my friends, the sky without rainclouds for the first time in a week, the temperature and wind perfect, I reached Heaven.

Just as quickly, the moment passed, and it was time to say my goodbyes. Unable to find the right words, I was only able to express variants of "It was great meeting you" and "Keep in touch." I weaved through the throngs of gaping people, just as in awe of this display as I was minutes ago. As one, they seemed to all be gazing at the heavens, as if they were seeing the face of God Himself (or Herself or Itself, as you like it). Up until I passed this crowd, I was finished with France and ready to go home. But when I was walking down the dark path to my host family's house, it occurred to me that my feelings were colored by the stress of finishing those papers. With that weight off my shoulders, I suddenly was very sad to be leaving France the next day, and especially to be leaving my new friends from the Syracuse program. To Amy, Josh, Ry, Kim, Maxine, Brenna, Manuel, and Anna, I want to say this: I miss you all terribly, and I hope our paths will cross again some time in the future, whether intentionally or not.

As it turns out, I got my wish to stay in France a little longer, although not at all in the way I would have wished. The flight from Strasbourg to Paris was uneventful, and I arrived at Charles de Gaulle two hours before my trans-Atlantic flight, scheduled for 10 am. I went straight to American Airlines to check-in, get my AA boarding passes, and ensure that my checked bag would get to BWI properly. By the time that was done, it was 8:50 am, and I could see a sign indicating my flight's gate. "Oh, plenty of time to stop at this café!" Big mistake. I had forgotten a crucial rule of flying: Get to your gate before doing anything else. At around 9:15 am, I made my way to the gate, only to find a colossal line for security. I had completely neglected to get through security! I emerged on the other side of security in time to get to my gate... and witness my plane taxiing away from the gate. I had missed my flight and, with it, any chance of making my connection in JFK to BWI. This was Hell.

Fortunately, the staff at the gate quickly gave me an alternate route: Paris to Chicago, Chicago to BWI. But now, I had a 4 and a half hour wait in front of me. What did I do with that time? Well, I phoned my Mom's cell phone to leave a message, informing her of the new situation, and then I sat down in a dining hall to write this yarn. It has successfully passed 2 and a half hours of my wait, leaving enough time for lunch. I'll have to edit the end of this if I miss my flight again due to hunger, but as I am through security, I don't anticipate any more problems. A bientôt!

Prologue - I did not miss my flight, and I've been back from France for about a week. It's been great seeing my friends who remain in the Salisbury area, but I do worry that I've missed my opportunity to explore Europe, at least for the foreseeable future. Still, I'm confident that I'll make my way back to Europe some day if I really want to go back. My European experience did not change me in any fundamental way, but I did get to see firsthand another way of living, proving that the American way is hardly the only way that works. I will miss the boulangeries, pattiseries, and other small shops, and I will miss having a public transportation system that can take me just about any where in Europe I would want to go, but I was missing my home friends and the comforts of home, so I am happy to be back. I'm not working this summer, basically meaning I'm being a bum, but I will be starting research on my honors thesis and configuring my new computer (once it arrives). This will likely be my last post about Europe, but if you guys have any questions about anything I did there, feel free to ask; I'd be more than willing to tell you all about it. Enjoy your summer!