Springtime in Montpellier

“Ca va se passer vite maintenant, “ is what Michèle has been telling me since the beginning of January, referring to the time that is literally flying by.  She is absolutely right, especially now that the weather is getting warmer.  I figure by the time I have to leave, we’ll be at about mid 80’s and sunny here in Montpellier.  As much as I miss Minnesota, who would want to leave the south of France in May, just as summer is about to start?? I can’t complain too much though, as I’ve already been able to make several trips to the beach, swimsuit and all! 

I’ve started a somewhat weekly tradition of going to the beach on Sundays, buying a French pastry on the way.  Last week was a chocolate éclair (maybe my third one since I’ve been here-pathetic!), this week was a fluffy, buttery “pain au chocolat.”  Mmmm.  I need to indulge a little before I leave all these delicious French delicacies behind, right?  Well, that’s my excuse and I’m sticking to it.  These Sundays have become the highlight of my week, stretched out on the sand, watching boats sail by on the Mediterranean and inhaling, err I mean eating, my pastry du jour.  Does life get much better?

Un éclair chocolat+la plage=la perfection!

 The lovely spring weather means I’m back to running outside again!  What a treat to take a nice, long run along the river after a winter of running on treadmills.  That being said, I still try and make the most of my outrageously expensive gym membership.  It’ll be weird coming back to the US, walking into a yoga class, and hearing the instructor start speaking…English?  I think I’ll feel that way in a lot of different day-to-day situations and it might even take a while before I no longer feel the urge to say “merci” to the cashier at the grocery store or “pardon” to a person I bump into on the street. 

Truth be told, I’m more nervous about the re-adjustment or “reverse culture shock” than I was about the initial adjustment or culture shock in coming here.  I think the toughest part will be finding that nothing has changed in my absence, while I, myself, have changed.  I’m scared to find that relationships I had before I left will be different or that I’ll miss my life here too much.  It’s weird how once the time you have left in a place becomes apparent, your entire outlook changes.  I’ve always known I would leave toward the end of May, but it was always some distant future date.  Now that “distant, future date” is about a month away.

As my actual departure draws near, I feel like I’m more aware then ever of my surroundings—I notice stuff that I never noticed before.  With new eyes, and an acute awareness of my numbered days, I see a cute little café tucked away on a side street, or a row of gorgeous houses in an upscale neighborhood.  I think to myself, “I have to go there” or “I have to see that” before I leave.  As silly as it sounds, I find myself tempted to start carrying my camera around with me everywhere, snapping pictures of the tram I take to school or Michèle cooking dinner, in attempt to capture everyday life in the same way that scheduled vacations are always meticulously documented.  I’m afraid that if I don’t take more pictures, my memories of everyday life here will fade.  So I don’t care if I get weird looks when I’m out in public taking pictures of the post office or the corner “tabac”; at least I know I’ll be able to see Montpellier as I saw it this past year, always.