entry one.
It’s like at your 6 year old birthday party. Someone hands
you a bat, blindfolds you, and spins you around until you are disoriented but
you’re so determined to burst open that colored paper mache, to be the one to
shower everyone with dollar store candy , to win, to succeed. So we swing with
all our might but then someone pushes you out the door of the party and its
quiet. The noise of the party, the familiar faces, the familiar sounds- gone.
Replaced with something foreign. But the expectation is still there to win . to
succeed- after all-im armed, I still have my bat that was handed to me as I
walked across the stage on graduation day.
May was nothing short of a whirlwind. I was spun around,
flipped upside down- flown across the country. From sun up to sun down I was
surrounded by people who I loved the most. I partied. Graduated. Partied.Flew
to CA for a glorious wedding with friends, said goodbye to my best friends in
west palm, and finally ended the month in SC with my family for my brother’s
stunning wedding. I have never
laughed harder, cried steadily, and said so many painful goodbyes than I did in
the month of may. Not just to people that I would not see but to a chapter of
my life that was exuberating.
Hours later after the wedding I am waking up to a flight attendant
that is jabbering in a beautiful but unfamiliar tone. My sleep mask my
blindfold. I vaguely remember the hours in between the wedding reception and
the flight to Paris. I am pushed off the plane, away from the party. It is June
1 , the party is over. Bat in hand, still dizzy –or jet lagged rather. I
stumble away from all that I know and into complete darkness. I have no idea
what is in store for me this summer, what the family is like, where I am
living, what my responsibilities are, or anything about Europe, France, Paris . hell I can not even talk to
strangers if I wanted. In the
dark. Unknown. I breathe. I have a college degree now, that should mean
something right? My bat, my
“expensive tool for life” my years in the classroom , my degree are seeming
meaningless at the moment because I get lost trying to find baggage claim from my gate. It was then I thanked my
background in charades rather than
psychology to find my luggage. After hours of circling the airport I find the
family who hired me.
Within the first 48 hours of arriving in Paris, I have done
more than some have in a lifetime. I wish I was not drugged with jetlag- but it was hard to miss the splendor of
the Eiffel tower, or the grandness of the Louvre, and the exquisite meal I had
in the Garden of Versailles. These were each bucket list items for me but for
the family I am working for, simply a weekend in their home town. I tried acting as nonchalant as the
Querleus but squeals of delight
would sometimes erupt from my spout.
Blindfold off, bat- not needed, somehow I was still showered with sweets.
