Saying goodbye to something great

I hate pants. My preference for pantlessness has always bothered people, but in my mind, pants are binding, annoying, and uncomfortable. They represent the threshold between the day's obligations and freedom. And around here lately it's all freedom and no obligation, so you get a pretty good idea of how I'm spending my time.

The only semi appropriate underwear pic available

Under the weight of capitalism

As my year as an English assistant is coming to an end, I find myself--quite predictably--full of sentiment and reflections and armed with a long list of "things I wish I'd done differently." One thing I really enjoy about spending time abroad is that it gives me the chance to compare my native culture with a new one. One thing I don't enjoy about spending time abroad is keyboard confusion due to prolonged use of foreign computers. Seriously, it's taken me about 15 minutes to type this paragraph. Where was I--oh yes--there have undoubtedly been some moments of culture shock for me since my arrival, but I feel that my most profound realization is the comparison I've made between French and American measures of success and work ethic.

afternoon walk in the neighborhood

Americans criticize the French for being lazy. The French criticize the Americans for being overweight workaholics. This argument isn't anything new I know, but this year I have really noticed how different American and French cultures are in this aspect and how the mentalities affect people.

A product of American culture and my inherent type-A personality, I have been pushed hard from day 1. A joint effort by myself, peers, parents, teachers and the media, I've been told that everything worth doing is worth doing well perfectly. Don't just write the essay; write the best essay in the class. Don't just run on the track team; be the fastest. Be the smartest, the prettiest, the happiest....you get the picture.

This perfectionist mentality bled over into my high school and college years, where I ran myself ragged trying to not only do everything, but to do everything perfectly, better than all the others. Even after I finished school, I felt the urgent pressure to find the perfect job, as if my entire happiness rested on a single career.

It wasn't until this past year in France that these crazy voices in my head finally quieted down a bit. Perhaps this is because my life here is extremely laid-back--or maybe--it's something more.

Finally able to eat outside!!

In France you don't really hear people talking about their next promotion. People aren't obsessively trying to raise their salaries or find perfection in anything. Pessimistic? Lacking the excitement of the American dream? Maybe. But with the pressure off, happiness is suddenly more obtainable. People here just do what they do--they teach, they heal the sick, they take your money, they build houses, etc. Everyone that I know seems content with where they are and who they are and they aren't stressed out trying to reach some imaginary level of perfection.

But without competitive capitalist motivation, who will fix the economy, find a cure for cancer and establish peace in the Middle East?--one might ask. Honestly I don't know. And spending a year with 15-year-olds who still can't properly introduce themselves or ask a question in English after 5+ years of studying; I'll admit that I'm worried for the future. No system or mentality is flawless, but for whatever it's worth, I have learned to accept my abilities, education, and life as is since I've been here. It's been a difficult mindset to obtain and my only hope is that I can keep it with me when I go.

Strikes and Snow

Time is starting to pass by really quickly. It amazes me how the first few weeks in a new and challenging situation such as this drag at the beginning. The month of October I spent my days staring at the wall, counting the days, organizing and re-organizing my sock drawer. And then I made a friend. Who introduced me to another friend. Who introduced me to the running club. A new bar. A new store. Suddenly everything felt natural and pleasant. I believe they call this adaptation.

I still have three more months of teaching and an additional two months until my visa expires, but I am starting to think about what the next chapter for me will be. My original plan was to return in the summer and begin graduate school to continue my studies of French, but it seems counterproductive to leave France in order to learn more French. My entire life, I have always been aware of my passions, but incapable of forming them into a concrete plan. Even though my position in Saint-Pourcain is temporary, I have honestly never felt more at home or happy. I need to find a way to make it last.

I promised myself that I wouldn't ruin any part of this experience my thinking too much, but here I am, at the end of a long week punctuated by snow flurries and teachers on strike, thinking my life away. You would hope that someone who does as much yoga as me could stay present, enjoy the moment. But no matter how you spin it, one truth is evident: I am tired of moving. I've been doing it for six years, and I'm getting to the point where I want to choose a place and make it mine. This thought both terrifies and soothes me.

I have a lot to look forward to in the coming months, including trips to London and Italy, and a visit from my sister, cousin, and friend in May. Now that whatever strange sickness that held me hostage in bed for five weeks has yielded, I feel ready to make everything count, and remember the reasons I came here in the first place.

Grad school woes

French people are really good at doing nothing. I don't mean this in a negative sense, I am actually incredibly jealous at how they can achieve leisure and relaxation. No one apologizes for spending the day in bed, for taking a three-hour lunch, for 5+ weeks of paid vacation each year. It's cultural, but more than that, it's a philosophy.

Americans, on the other hand work themselves to death and when they finally catch a few days to take off from work, stay in ther pajamas in front of the TV, too exhausted to move. It makes so much more sense to me to work at a steady, slow pace, rather than waiting for yourself to burn out. I hope that I can become more like this and maintain the lifestyle when I return the the U.S.

However, my newfound ideology is proving difficult as I am trying to complete four graduate school applications with deadlines in December. Well, two are in December but I really just want to knock them all out, so I can move on with my life. I've always viewed grad school as a superior route to take in life, a way to bypass the political infrastructure that confines us. So. Wrong. Just like anything else, grad school is a business, a rat race, a competition. And with an influx of applicants as a result of the lack of jobs out there, it's worse than ever.

Which brings me to the past few weeks, sitting glued to my computer obsessing over my personal statement. It's exhausting because you have to express yourself, but only in the way that the committee wants to see you, which is essentially unknown. You have to shine but not too brightly, say all the right things, with the right tone.

I'm lucky to know some really intelligent people who don't mind me filling up their email inboxes each day with questions and revisions, but no matter how hard I work, I am feeling panicked. What if I'm not good enough?

These questions and concerns have been circling my mind, meanwhile distracting me from the important things in my life at the moment: what type of wine to try next, why isn't there gel deodorant in France, how can I cook Christmas dinner without an oven, etc.

So I suppose this post is a useless rant, but perhaps a call for advice. If anyone is in the process of, or has applied to graduate school and has advice for personal statements, interviews, and the application in general, please share!