July 2nd – 8th
For the first time in my life, I spent the Fourth of July outside the United States. There were no Fourth of July commercials on TV. There were no red, white, and blue decorations in streets and buildings. (There was a red, white and blue flag on the Palais de Justice in Tours, but that’s the French flag and it’s always there.) In class, my professor asked if anyone knew what day it was. I looked around, saw a class full of blank faces, and remembered I was the only American in the class. It really put my place in this world into perspective. I don’t know any Swiss national holidays. Why should the Swiss girl in my class know any American ones? It was amusing and humbling, but a little lonely. I was glad to meet up with some of my American friends at lunch (and to discover that Tours had a Fourth of July Snapchat filter. Thanks, France!) Our host parents also served a celebratory aperitif before dinner that evening, and wished me and my roommate a bonne fete! before we left.
This was my last week in Tours, and it felt really short, especially because I was consumed with packing and with planning (I’m traveling around France and Spain for the next week and a half with my friend, and we left most of our planning till the last minute.) I did get to see one more castle, bringing my grand total for the summer to nine: the castle of Amboise, which offers amazing views of the Loire valley and river. You’re also allowed to sit on some of the furniture. After Amboise, we toured the Clos Luce, which was Leonardo da Vinci’s queen-gifted residence while he was in France. Then, on Friday, my host mother took me and my roommate to the house of Balzac, a famous 19th-century French writer who spent a lot of time in Touraine (the land in and surrounding Tours). That completed my history-and-architecture tour of the Loire Valley, at least for this summer.
Here I am sitting on the furniture at Amboise. I don’t have other pictures because my phone started being almost constantly dead when I went to visit places. It was dead at the Clos-Luce. It was dead at Balzac’s house. I did take a picture of the facade of Amboise, but I can’t find it.
I also finally ate escargots. My host mother cooked them for Thomas’ and my last dinner in Tours. (I thought I had eaten escargots in Brussels; the Belgian food truck called their boiled sea snails escargots, but everyone I talked to in France insisted that those aren’t actually escargots. Escargot just means “snail”, though, so I’m not sure what to think.) Anyway, I’d been apprehensive about trying escargots, but I actually really enjoyed them. I just tried not to think too hard about the fact that I was eating, you know, snails.
Looking back on my six weeks here, I can see that my French skills have in fact noticeably improved. My conversational and oral comprehension skills are much better; my vocabulary is bigger, and I can read French faster. When speaking French, I no longer have to plan out what I want to say in my head before I say it. My confidence in speaking French has also multiplied exponentially. My common sense has not. The other day I saw a billboard advertising a drink flavored with menthe poivrée, which I correctly translated, since I’ve improved so much at French, as meaning “peppered mint.” As I continued walking I thought about how weird cultural differences can be, and how no one in America would ever think of flavoring something with both mint and pepper, and how honestly that sounded kind of disgusting. And then I realized.
I’ve also gotten really used to living in Tours. The things that stuck out to me so much at the beginning of the summer, like the tiny elevators and the coffee bowls, are now just things that I take for granted. (I still don’t use the elevators, though.) I’ve gotten used to walking to school every morning through narrow streets, and to stopping in at bakeries to grab a sandwich for lunch. I’ve gotten used to four-course, hour-plus-long dinners with my host parents. I know some people here that are more than ready to go home. Part of me understands that feeling, but most of me has no desire to leave. I’m definitely going to miss Tours.