The Storms of Late Autumn

I jumped a barrier to walk along the swollen Doubs tonight.

I had hiked into town for a coffee and a croissant, to watch people and read a little. Sundays in Besancon are quiet. Not much is open, and people have been retreating indoors more as the winter is approaching. Anyway, I don't tend to need days of solitude, when I crave it. The fall rains this weekend left the city flooded, and I trudged through the wet streets and down to the river. I ignored the gate and walked by the Doubs, careful not to fall in. The moonlight reflected bright and hard off the water, the wind made my nose run, and a couple miles later, I felt like I'd gotten something out of my system. When I crave solitude, I just need an hour to be completely by myself- that's what I got. I stared up at the Citadelle for a while, wrote in my journal, and celebrated my two month anniversary in France.

Earlier this morning, I went into Vesoul, a small town near here, for the festival of St. Katherine. It was charming- it's a festival for unmarried girls, mainly. So many of the girls from my classes were wandering around in traditional costume. "'Ello, Linds-aye! 'Ow are you?" It was lovely to see them out of class and in their element. I felt like I understood this place more at that moment than I had the entire time I've been here.

Now, I'm in for the night, sipping white wine with Meredith, and in a bit I'll talk her into playing some Rummy. I love that my life here has this aspect of regularity- it's not exotic or strange. It's just France in the day to day, and it's beautiful.

The Citadelle

The Citadelle at Besancon is one my all time favorite things and places.



I am unsure why, aside from that geeky middle school girl side of me that favors historic locales with good stories. The Citadelle's stony, austere, gorgeous. I like to sit beside it and read and draw and think about all the soldiers who guarded it, why it was important strategically, and German armies trying to storm up the Jura to wage assaults on it. It's a fun place to sit, and I think it inspires a kind comfortable awe, if that is something you can say about "awe." Like, it's big and imposing, but not so big and imposing that you don't feel ok drinking wine near it.

That's my kind of awe-inspiring.

It is done like so.

I'm legal! I got my titre de sejour today, and it feels like I accomplished something.



Now, if I can just get my internet working and my window fixed, I will feel much better.

Unrelated but also happy news, I am headed home for Christmas! Thanks, Mom and Dad. I will come bearing gifts.

In the Haut Jura, where I live, the regional cuisine is all peasant-y and delicious. It involves a lot of potatoes and meat and cheese. These are all foods that please me, so I think I wound up in the right part of France. I tracked down a recipe for a favorite local dish, and I will be making it in Valparaiso over break. So, if you're around, you can try my first attempt.

I'm really happy to be going home for Christmas, because despite my independent streak, I always feel terribly homesick when I'm away from Valpo for too long. The French term for homesickness is mal de pays, and I am sick for America too. The only prescription is a visit home once every four or five months. Valparaiso, Indiana will always be magic to me.

A rare and radiant maiden whom the angels named Lenore.

For Halloween, I had my English classes do "The Raven," which was longer than I remembered it being, and is difficult for native English speakers to begin with. But, French kids are tricky, I find, because if you make things easy, they feel you're condescending. If you make things too hard, they are quick to give up. Still, they would rather be challenged. So I downloaded a reading of the poem with Vincent Price and played it for them approximately forty billion times.

Ok, I exaggerate, but really, I played it, stanza by stanza three or four times for each of my classes. Then I would make them tell me what they'd understood, turn to the text and ask me for vocabulary help. It was a task, but it worked. It worked, and I felt great. I don't know if I've ever felt prouder than when the youngest boy in one my classes, Olivier, told me he though the raven was Lenore's ghost and justified his claim with textual evidence. Can you imagine? An explication in a second language. Olivier is now my favorite.

I like teaching. It's unexpected.

Toussaints has been lovely. I've hiked a lot in the Jura, and I got a second pillow. Tonight, Charles is coming to visit. I'm going to splurge, I think, and take him to a nice fondue restaurant.

Besancon has settled into an autumnal loveliness I can't adequately describe. It's all golden leaves and golden light. It's a great place to pass a fall, and it's my first real fall in five years. If I can track down some apple cider, I will be the happiest girl in the world.

I also recently tried the favorite regional wine, a soft white from Arbois, and it was maybe the most delicious wine I've ever had. And, if you come, I will order you a triangle aux amondes, which is like a crossaint, but topped with a sugar glaze and almond bits. It is my new favorite breakfast food.