One Day of My Life

"To my surprise, and my delight
I saw sunrise, I saw sunlight"
-Coldplay, Daylight

As I wake up in the morning, it is pitch black. I pull on my slippers and shuffle over to the window. Turning the old fashion knob, covered in what would have been a fresh paint job in 1930, I open the windows and push out my blue 4 foot tall window shutters just like in the movies. I'm immediately embraced by a scene one can only imagine. A green garden, chirping morning birds, and blooming flowers scattered in front of the small, charming shed that rests next to a tall stone wall that blocks off the rest of the world. As my eyes take their time adjusting, my body automatically begins to get ready, make the bed, fix coffee and cereal, strap on some shoes and say "Au revoir! Bon journée!" to Veronique and the kids who are typically eating their breakfast of tea and croissants or cereal everyone smiling at each other as I leave.

As I exit our main gate, I turn around to lock it with my ancient gold keys, weighing 5 pounds in themselves. I plug in my headphones, listening to something new everyday, and walk to our university. The day goes on as always at school, but by lunchtime Sam and I meet up on the long driveway hugged with tall trees that connects the University to the main city and we get our hour and a half long sieste. We have so many choices! "What do we want for lunch today?" There are endless cafes, middle eastern kebab sandwiches, panini stands, my house is close by- we could make something, or perhaps a fresh sandwich from a local boulanger (bakery)? We make a choice and decide to go to Centre Ville for a panini. The crowd of people is intensively waiting to have their order taken, but Sam and I quickly find ourselves at the front of the counter drooling over which panini to get! Curry chicken and cheese, or goat cheese, or ham or chicken and cheese, steak and fries panini (which is very odd, but turns out delicious!), or a pizza panini. "Peux j'avoir un petit panini poulet s'il vous plaît? Avec une coca et pain au chocolat. Merci!" I grin in satisfaction as she tells me the price extremely fast- sounding almost like a blur, "trois euro cinquante". I understand perfectly- 3,50. I pull out a few coins that represent the exact change. After Sam and I both get little yellow and black stripped bags with our panini, coke, and a dessert (a croissant stuffed with baked chocolat). We walk up a cobblestone alley with people of all sorts zooming, or strolling past us. We find a little courtyard with a perfect view of a cathedral and sit down on the same stone bench as always and enjoy our lunch, chatting about what we learned in class that day or how beautiful the weather is becoming.

After the rest of my classes, it's about 4 in the afternoon- it's time to collect ingredients for dinner before everything closes and you're out of luck! I walk past the beautiful old church just as it begins to tell me the time. DING DONG DING.... I look up to the bell tower to try and spot it moving, but all I see is beautiful grey architecture against the brilliant blue sky. Not even a block away from this scene, I spot my favorite Boulanger/ Patisserie (Bakery/ "Desserterie"). The same middle aged, smiling woman as always greets me. And I order my usual- "Juste une baguette et un torsade s'il vous plaît" - "Bien sûr!" (Of course!). It was the charming ritual of ordering an 80 cent stick of bread that went with every meal. Today was different though. I was a usual customer, but this day after I payed, she asked me some more familiar questions such as what I was doing in France, how long I was staying, if I was here to study French, if I lived in the neighborhood... and after a wonderful conversation with a local she said this, "Tu parle bien francais!". My heartbeat raced and I couldn't help but to smile a Fools Smile. A local had told me I speak French well! What a compliment, especially to a beginner/ intermediate learner. I found myself crossing the bridge over the railroad tracks, half way back to my home from the Boulanger still grinning.

I get a phone call from a friend inviting Sam and I over for dinner. I find it a hard thing to turn down, so in what seems like 15 minutes we were ringing the doorbell of a grand, rich wooden brown door with aesthetic carving around the frame. We greet one another and soon enough we're all prepping vegetables or laughing together or setting the table. Our host (a half Norwegian half American, speaking 5 different languages) brought different dishes out, one by one, to the outdoor table which has been set and awaiting us under the trees of the garden, and cushioned by the bright flowers and cobblestone wall separating us from the neighbors. There was pasta, wine, mussels in a tomato/onion/wine sauce, traditional fajitas (with fresh guacamole, made by myself), a vinaigrette salad with salmon and goat cheese, and a fabulous sunny breeze.

After the dinner party, I found myself for the last time that day walking through the ancient buildings, cobblestone walkways, and houses boarded up by their shutters. Night time in Europe has an almost opposite vibe than day time Europe. Everything, all the shops, restaurants, houses, and gates are closed, locked, and boarded up. The stars shine bright over the rooftops, but its as if someone truly turns off a switch when the sun goes down. I think about how the cultural and historical significance of boarding your windows and doors at night in France... some French claim it's for privacy, others say its because of a tradition from hundreds of years ago when the government would send spies on households to determine how much they have, and how much to tax them, others may even say its because of the wars in their history...for protection? My mind wanders. When I get back to my own room I close my own shutters, for traditions sake- knowing that when that switch is turned back on with the sunrise- it will be a whole new start to an amazing day.