Week 3 in Europe: Lessons in Optimism

Hey, everyone! I'm sorry that this post is coming to you so late- I've been busy and a bit ill for the last couple of days. That being said, it's impossible not to appreciate the beauty of my current situation. I may be trapped inside with a nasty head cold, but I'm trapped inside in Germany. It's hard to stay grumpy when I meditate on that! 

This week has been absolutely full of similar silver linings. It's incredible how quickly your mind can adapt to strange situations, if for no other reason than self-preservation. I have always been a creature of habit, and I'm not known for stepping out of my comfort zone. To my friends and family, I can seem like a pessimist, but I've always seen myself as more of a realist (is there a difference? Can someone call a philosopher?). The way I see it, I'd rather be prepared for the worst and surprised by anything better, than expect the best and deal with any disappointments that come my way. However, the last few weeks have taught me that while it may be logical to think "pessimistically/realistically" in some situations, it doesn't work well when you have no plan, no idea where you are, and no choice but to find a solution. Leaving a situation that would have been miserable, yet stable, for a situation that is wildly chaotic and unplanned, yet amazing, has been the best and most unlikely decision of my life (cue "The Hobbit" soundtrack)! There's so much I could write about, but there are four stories in particular that stand out to me from this last week of my adventure, and I'm going to share them with you!

The Best Last Day Ever

My last day in Nice was the first of the weeks' silver linings. I was taken in ever so generously by my lovely friend Christi, and we got to spend most of Monday exploring the city together! It's hard to believe that I was living so close by for two weeks, but I only got to spend a few hours there. It's an amazingly quirky city, full of things to see!

Thumb Statue…Why, you ask? I have no idea.

We were lucky enough to eat lunch in a pub visited by none other than Snoop Dogg himself…

Slizzle was Hizzle

Christi even got a free meal out of it, thanks to the friendly little green caterpillar on her sandwich!

Blurry due to copious amounts of laughter

 I got to taste some of the best gelato known to man...

Fenocchio's Gelato- mouthgasmic!

 And I even got a little dose of my favorite cruelty-free comforts! 

The statues and city art were interesting to say the least, and we took full advantage of that fact!

I'm so scandalous

We literally have no idea who this man was

Naked glowing men?

They even changed colors!

 We ended the night with some yummy drinks at the Caterpillar Pub (as it will henceforth be known), rocking out to an absolutely AMAZING 90's and early 2000's playlist.

The kindness and generosity of Christi and my other friends in Nice, combined with my excitement from getting to experience even a taste of something new and different, made my two weeks of misery feel totally worth it. Now, when I look back on my time in France, the first thing I think about is how happy I felt on my last day. The negativity that engulfed the majority of my stay there seems so much less important now. Before leaving home, I would have clung to those bad memories for dear life, using them as justification for staying in my rut and never taking chances. The Best Last Day Ever managed to completely skew my perspective for the better. Instead of feeling discouraged and heading right home, I felt more motivated than ever to go out and see the world, and I could not be more thankful for that!

"Ich spreche kein Deutsch!"

On Tuesday, I lugged my colossal suitcases to the bus station (of course with the invaluable help of the lovely Christi once again), and took off to the airport to fly to Germany. I was definitely nervous; I speak zero useful German (I can say "I lost my fried egg" and "I am a ball point pen" …don't ask…), and I was responsible for getting myself from the airport to one train station, and then from there to another (much bigger) train station, all without any means of communication with the friends I was meeting. Interestingly, the always-prepared-pessimist in me was (for once) unprepared for the confusion that would ensue. I ended up buying too many train tickets, getting lost in the platforms, and asking futilely for help from everyone I could find (believe it or not, no one at the Berlin Airport Train Station spoke English). Eventually, I got on a train, and just sat there hoping it was the right one. It wasn't. BUT, I figured it out anyway, got to where I needed to go, and found my friend with little trouble upon my arrival to Leipzig. 

In the midst of my anxiety at the airport and train stations, I caught myself thinking differently than I usually do; when I end up in a confusing situation or feel flustered in any way, my first instinct is to jump right to thinking of every bad thing that could happen so that I can prepare myself. However, this time, I found myself thinking things like "you'll figure it out," "take a deep breath," and "this time tomorrow you'll be waking up safe with your friends." And guess what? I was right. It worked. I was able to fight off tears and total panic in a scary and difficult situation, which is something I historically have been pretty much incapable of. I found my friends, and they got me safely to my temporary home here. As if that isn't amazing enough, I discovered what might be the tastiest creation known to man: the Smarties McFlurry. 

If I was a dessert, this is what I'd be.

Now, I won't lie to you and tell you that I wasn't scared out of my mind. I definitely can't say that my mind didn't try to go to its familiar dark places- I absolutely felt the strain as I fought to stay level headed. What's important, though, is that it was my inner optimist who won the fight within me that day. My refusal to give in to the fear in "preparation" for the worst that was yet to come allowed me to do what I needed to do to get through the situation. As someone who has battled crippling panic and anxiety for the better portion of her life, I can't even begin to explain how empowering it is to know I'm capable of that. There truly is no better feeling. 

 Mistelbach, Molasses, and the Most Unforgettable Birthday

On the train to Leipzig to meet my friends, I happened to look down at my phone and catch a glimpse of the date: September 16th. "Holy ****," I gasped, startling several unsuspecting fellow passengers. I had managed to completely forget that my 22nd birthday was two days away. Of course, being the amazing and generous people that they are, my friends (old and new) promised me that we'd do something special. I assured them that I really was just happy to be here. I mean, look at this place!

Bahnhofstrasse, Mistelbach, Germany 

Look how cute!!

More of Bahnhofstrasse

The garden

Mistelbach

Mistelbach

I was given a place to stay in this little slice of heaven free of charge, and I'm surrounded by amazing company. What more could I possibly ask for?

Of course, when my birthday came around, my wonderful friends went above and beyond even more so than they already had. I spent the day with Pia (my hostess), Dorothee (Pia's friend), Andrew (my friend from home) and Zach (Andrew's friend). I thought it would be fun to make chocolate chip cookies- I'd get a comforting taste of home, and they'd get to try a new treat! Chocolate chip cookies are simple enough, right?

Wrong.

 I completely overestimated the similarity between German and American grocery stores and ingredients. We ended up Macgyver-ing pretty much the entire recipe. 

Difference #1: No chocolate chips. To improvise, I bought a huge bar of baking chocolate, and we cathartically chopped it up into tiny chunks with kitchen knives.

Poor, brutalized chocolate :(

 Difference #2: No vanilla extract. They had some kind of vanilla essence, but it most definitely wasn't the same. We used it anyway.

Difference #3- and this is the real kicker- No brown sugar. My friends had no clue what I was even talking about when I described it to them! We called grocery store after grocery store trying to find it, but to no avail. Eventually, when all hope of cookies seemed lost, I remembered a blog post I had seen about making your own brown sugar out of plain granulated sugar and molasses. I had never done it before, but we had no other options, so we called around until we found a store that carried molasses, drove all the way into town to get it, and we made our own brown sugar. 

Much to my dismay, I added way too much molasses, which made for very sticky and molasses-y cookies. BUT (this is a silver lining story, after all), the texture of the cookies was absolutely perfect, the chocolate melted beautifully, and we even added some Smarties for a special Hayley-esque twist. They definitely didn't taste like I expected, but my friends and I enjoyed them nonetheless.

Our Molasses Monstrosity Cookies

In the evening, we went into Bayreuth for dinner. We had planned on going to a certain Italian restaurant, but (of course) my birthday happened to fall on the one week this year that the restaurant was closed! No matter, though- we quickly found another restaurant and we had an amazing meal, complete with free dessert shooters and a happy restaurant dog to keep us company!

My little birthday dessert

Goa, our little friend, waiting for Zach to toss a rock for him to fetch

After dinner, we met up with some of Pia's friends at a local Mexican-style bar. About 3 drinks later, Pia and I decided to go with them to a club- something I pretty much NEVER do- and we had such a blast that I didn't have time to take many pictures! The sole photograph from the night may present more questions than it gives answers, but I'll leave the blanks for your imagination to fill in!

Daniel, me, and a bigass dinosaur

Overall, my 22nd birthday was strange, exciting, alcohol-filled, and yet completely unforgettable. I met some wonderful people, stepped way out of my comfort zone, and had an absolute blast doing it!

The Show Must Go On (Even if it's Raining Sideways)

Over the weekend, Pia and I went with her mother to the village where her grandparents live to see her grandfather in a community play. Although I was unsure of what to expect, I was definitely shocked when I realized that the play would be taking place outside, despite the fact that it was absolutely pouring with rain. "Are people really going to sit outside and get drenched for this?" I asked Pia in disbelief. "Oh, yes- this is the most exciting thing that has happened in this village in years!" And with that, we donned our ponchos, opened our umbrellas, and found our soaking wet seats.

Pia and I smiling through the rain

I was doing alright for the first hour or so, but eventually I became a bit agitated. The play was in German, so I had no idea what was going on, and I was absolutely soaked to the bone. About halfway through, I started to wonder if I'd be able to last much longer, but then I had a sort of revelation; as I looked around me, trying to find someone as annoyed as I was to empathize with, I noticed how truly excited everyone was to be there watching their friends and family perform in this little village play. They didn't care about the rain. They had all worked so hard to make this event possible, there was no way they were going to let the weather dampen their spirits (I'm so punny). Here, in this soaking wet little German town, I witnessed authentic and sincere solidarity, and to me, that is cool beyond words. To make things even better, the actors ended the play with a literal bang- fireworks! My favorite!

A shot of the stage

Culture Shock 2.0: German Edition

•  Kinder Eggs: These little goodies are banned in the US because they are considered a "choking hazard" (survival of the fittest? Darwinism? No? Okay…). I just had to indulge on a few because, you know, I like to live dangerously.

•  Chinese food in Germany is absolutely nothing like Chinese food in California. It wasn't bad, but it definitely didn't satisfy my cravings. For example, the German-Chinese version of an egg roll was more like Chinese chicken salad stuffed inside of a thick pastry- think Chinese Hot Pocket.

German-Chinese Egg Roll

• The town of Bayreuth, which is the biggest town near where I've been staying, is the home of composer Richard Wagner. There are tons of multicolored mini Richard Wagners all around town, enigmatically conducting at passersby!

A Mini-Wagner

• Drivers here are MUCH better than in France. Seriously. AND, Germans are also completely aware of how insane French drivers are. It's not just me, I promise!
• If you meet a group of four guys anywhere in Germany, at least one of them will be named Tobias, and the other three will be named Florian. 
• If you don't like house music/EDM, avoid clubbing in Germany. It's all they play. And it isn't just modern hits either- the club we went to blasted some super-groovy remixes of hits like "Ice Ice Baby" and "Walking on Sunshine." Needless to say, my first time clubbing here was likely also my last.
• NOT EVERYONE SPEAKS ENGLISH. Consider that myth officially busted. That being said, those who do speak it typically speak incredibly well, and much to my delight, many Germans enjoy having an opportunity to speak English with a native speaker!
• German speed detectors smile at you when you're going the proper speed limit. So cute!

German Speed Detector

• The Autobahn is not the terrifying speedway I imagined it would be. People definitely drive fast, but not unsafely so. It truly is a wonderful thing when you're trying to get somewhere in a hurry!

What's Next?

A few nights ago, over delicious homemade chocolate cake, my friend Pia asked me, "how can you be happy?" I was caught off guard by this question- no one has really ever asked me this before. It took me a while to formulate an answer, but what I eventually came up with was this: the last few weeks have shown me that I'm the happiest when I do things I never thought I could or would do. Therefore, to stay happy, I have to keep doing those things: taking risks, saying yes to opportunities, pushing myself out of my comfort zone, getting a bit scared. These are the things that have led to the greatest happiness and sense of fulfillment I've ever experienced. 

I read a quote from Princess Wilhelmine Margravine of Bayreuth Newcastle (I'll talk about that trip in my next post) which perfectly sums up this sentiment: "I am like a blind person who is gradually learning to see and beginning to perceive things in quite a different way. Everything here has a leaning towards greatness." It is in that spirit that I take the next step on my journey, and begin to travel solo. I'm hoping to visit Amsterdam, Copenhagen, Stockholm, and Oslo on my own within the next couple of weeks before meeting up with Christi in the UK for two final weeks of travel. Traveling alone is something I never, ever thought I would do, and that's exactly why I'm doing it. 

Here's to a safe, eye opening, positive, and life changing journey! I promise to try my hardest to post more diligently. As always, friends, thank you for reading and for your good thoughts. Talk to you soon!

Hugs from Germany,

Hayley

Week 2 in France: One door closes, another opens!

Hey everyone! Thankfully I'm no longer sick, and I'm writing from the balcony, enjoying a very rare moment of privacy. I'm also enjoying the beautiful view (see last week's post for reference) for one last time. If you follow my Facebook, this is likely not shocking news, but regardless, I'll summarize the week's events and talk about what's next for me on this roller coaster of a Eurotrip.

You'll remember from last week that the parents had unexpectedly presented me with extra hours and responsibility for other children- all unpaid. While frustrating, these changes were not necessarily unbearable, and I had the intention of making the best of it and trying to stick it out. Unfortunately, the parents weren't done making changes to my job description. Within 24 hours of my last post, they had added cooking (for the entire family), kitchen clean up, and the family laundry to my list of responsibilities- again, all unpaid. Most definitely NOT what I signed up for. It was evident that a conversation needed to be had, so after a few days, I worked up the courage to approach the father (the mother was in Paris at this time).

The discussion was tense, but not horrible, aside from the fact that he was in his underwear and I was wildly uncomfortable the entire time (see the "culture shock" section of my previous post if you're appalled by this). I communicated that I thought there had been a misunderstanding in terms of what my duties would be here, and that while I was definitely willing to give a little extra in thanks for their generosity, I was not okay with being used as "the help." He apologized that things weren't clear from the start, but seemed shocked- I'm the first au pair they've had that wasn't so excited to be here that she was willing to do anything to stay. I tried to come to a compromise, but he insisted that they need an au pair who is willing to take on any and all extra tasks. Well, okay then! That settles that.

While I am incredibly disappointed that this ended up being too good to be true, I feel much better knowing what my reality is and that there is an end in sight. Uncertainty has always been my kryptonite; even if the outcome is bad, I'd rather know in advance so that I can prepare myself. Not knowing is the absolute worst thing for me, because I end up running through every possible scenario in my mind and it takes up a lot of energy as well as causes endless anxiety. Now that I know what's going on, my anxiety is pretty much gone. 

As bummed out as I am by the whole thing, I'm also wildly excited, because now I get to take some time to do what I came here to do: travel. I've networked with everyone I can think of on this side of the Atlantic, digging up old friends, finding relatives, and making incredibly well-timed connections with friends from home. As far as I know now, I'm going to get to see nearly everywhere that I wanted to see when I came here, and I don't have to wait to do it! In fact, considering all of my extra duties, I'll probably end up seeing more in the next 2-4 weeks than I would have had I stuck out my position here for the entire year. I get to spend my 22nd birthday visiting friends in Germany. How surreal is that!? I fully intend to maintain this blog throughout my travels, and if I can, I will post more often, because I'll probably have more to write about!

My Final Week in France

This week has been just as interesting and full of culture shock as last week. The two most noteworthy experiences I had were my dealings with the grandma of the house, Mammi Joan, and my rendezvous with two other local au pairs in Cagnes sur Mer. 

Mammi Joan

Mammi Joan is Line's maternal grandmother, and, unfortunately, she has been here since I arrived. Now, I'm not one of those people that hates old folks. I generally find them to be either sweet and loving or curmudgeonly and amusing. This woman doesn't fit in either of those categories. If I had to describe her with one phrase, it would be "piece of work." It would take months to detail all of our agonizing encounters, so I'm going to stick to the few that paint the clearest picture of who and what she is. 

Tales of Mammi Joan Episode 1: The Doctor's Visit

On Monday morning, the family insisted that after taking Line to school, I visit the doctor in a nearby town to get a diagnosis. Mammi Joan was responsible for taking me. I was supposed to be downstairs at 9 am to leave, but at 8:30, she was at my door pounding and shouting to hurry up. I came downstairs to make a piece of toast, and she kept asking me what I wanted on top. 

"Beurre (butter)?"

"Non, merci, rien (No, nothing thank you)"

"Confiture (jam)?"

"Non, merci"

"Miel (honey)?"

"Non, vraiment rien sil vous plait (No, really nothing thank you)"

"Nutella"

"Non, merci, vraiment je suis content avec rien (No, thank you, really I'm happy with plain)"

This was unacceptable to Mammi Joan. "Vous etes tres difficile (you are very difficult)" she snarled as she waddled away. I could practically feel her chin hairs curling as her mouth formed an indignant sneer. Apparently, wanting plain toast is an incredibly picky whim.

 We got to the doctor's office at 9:00, although it didn't open until 9:30, the doctor didn't even decide to show up until 9:50, and we weren't seen until noon (we also had to pay…socialized healthcare isn't looking so great). When we were finally called in, Mammi Joan refused to let me go into the office alone, or even let me talk to the doctor myself. I felt like a child. She sat there telling him a bunch of symptoms that I didn't have, and when I tried to correct her, she shushed me. She was interrupted several times by the doctor taking personal calls from his cell phone, during which times she would look at me and tell me again how difficult I am. When we finally escaped after 45 minutes of meaningless chatter, I was given the incredibly insightful diagnosis of "jet lag" and "stress" and was prescribed OTC Melatonin. Time and money well spent. 

Tales of Mammi Joan Episode 2: Adding Insult to Injury

One of the side effects of the incredibly rare and disturbing ailments (are you detecting my sarcasm yet?) that have plagued me during my stay here is that I have been unable to eat much (the nerve, I know…honestly I choose to feel sick just to annoy her). Over dinner one evening, Mammi Joan made an incredibly astute observation: "Vous ne mangez pas beaucoup, mais vous n'etes pas maigre…c'est bizarre." Translation: "You don't eat a lot, but you're not skinny…it's weird."

 I was dumbstruck. Was this boldness a cultural phenomenon, or is this woman just a special breed of difficult? I didn't even know what to say, so I swallowed my offense and conceded, "Oui, je sais, je suis desolee (Yes, I know, I'm sorry)." I can't explain why I felt the need to apologize…that's just the effect that this woman has on people. As if she hadn't made her point loud and clear, Mammi Joan continued to talk about how skinny and beautiful their other au pairs had been, and that if I started to eat like the French, I might be as lucky as their first au pair, who lost 15 pounds while she lived here (my hunch- it wasn't the healthy eating that caused the weight loss). I'll give you a moment to pick your jaws up off of the floor. Fear not, friends! Revenge is coming!

Tales of Mammi Joan Episode 3: Karma is a Wonderful, Wonderful Goddess

The very evening of Mammi Joan's assault on my self-esteem, I was rewarded for my composure when karma decided to show herself in the funniest, most fitting way possible. I was sitting on the couch in the living room lost in a book when I heard Mammi Joan called out from the yard that she was going to walk the dog. I looked up to acknowledge her, and instantly noticed the dark gray stain all down her light gray tent-sized bargain sweats; she had peed herself, and either didn't notice, or didn't care. I froze. "Do I tell her?" I thought to myself, and though I did try to get her attention (she either didn't hear me or was ignoring me, both are equally likely), I knew that I'd probably get some kind of earful from her if I pointed it out. Somehow I would be the bad guy, and it would be my fault that she hadn't noticed that her nether-regions were slightly warmer and wetter than the rest of her body. And so, I sat there, shocked but gratified, as this woman who had made my life hell for the last 10 days left to go walk the dog, in public, with soaking wet paper bag-butt sweatpants. 

Let it be known that had this been pretty much any other human being on the planet, I would have leapt up and said something. In any other situation, I would have felt pity for the poor, old, incontinent woman. However, considering the circumstances, I didn't lose any sleep over not trying my hardest to alert her to her...situation. I don't think that Mother Theresa would have told her had she been in my shoes (remember, I only told two of hundreds of similar stories from the last ten days). If this disturbs you and you think that I'm a heartless heathen, remember this: she probably didn't notice anyone giving her weird looks or snickering behind her back, and even if she had, I'm sure she wouldn't have cared. She is far too haughty to believe that she could be the source of the amusement. Nonetheless, it was liberating to see karma in action. That's what you get when you call someone fat, Mammi Joan!

My One Good Day

On Friday, after two miserably failed attempts earlier in the week, I finally succeeded in meeting up with with two other local au pairs. We met in Cagnes sur Mer, a suburb halfway between Nice and Tourrettes sur Loup. I'm happy to say that I had an absolutely wonderful time! After nearly two weeks of stress and frustration, it was amazing to actually get out and explore a bit of this beautiful region with people who could empathize with my struggle. We ate a very affordable and surprisingly delicious lunch at a cafe, and then meandered around town, taking in all of the weirdness and beauty. It was without a doubt my happiest day here.

One of the streets in Cagnes sur Mer

Cute little downtown apartments

Boulangerie treats!

My favorite candy of all time/a strange Twix that I couldn't resist trying

Miscellaneous Weirdness/Additions to my Culture Shock List

• Farting is totally acceptable at any time, in any location, regardless of if there is food being consumed. The whole family, especially Mammi Joan took full advantage of this fact.
• Personal space is not a thing. Everyone stands so close to you when they talk that you can actually see their individual taste buds.
• The French leave their eggs on the counter- I've seen articles about this recently, and apparently there's a reason for it, but it still feels wrong to me!
• Sliced bread is rare and very, very strange- the only sliced bread in this house has the texture and taste of Twinkie cake. Not bad, but not really what I want for breakfast.
• They have clothing dryers, but don't use them- I guess this is energy efficient, but more often than not the wind blows their drying rack over and their clean clothes get covered in dirt and grime. No thanks!
• You can smoke anywhere, and I mean anywhere. The crossing guard at Line's school was constantly dragging on a cigarette while escorting young children across the street.
• The healthcare system is a joke. After all of the time, rudeness and general nonsense at the doctor's office (see above), there was still a fee, and it was more expensive than my copays back home (disclaimer: it's not because I'm a foreigner. As a contracted employee, I am covered completely by the family's health insurance, and thus get the same treatment that any other family member would get).
• Roundabouts SUCK. They suck even worse that I had anticipated. If you come vacation in France, DO NOT DRIVE.
• Street signs are rare, and when they do exist, they're tiny and placed out of view, so it's pretty much impossible to navigate where you are without a GPS. Again, DO NOT DRIVE HERE.
• People think nothing of walking in the middle of the road. On more than one occasion I've had to slam on the brakes because a random pedestrian decided to cross the middle of a busy street without paying any attention to oncoming traffic.
• I'm repeating this one from last week for the sake of emphasis: modesty does not exist here, at least in this household. As mentioned, I had "the talk"  with the father while he was comfortably lounging in his itsy-bitsy-teeny-weeny Hanes. They also don't close the doors while in the bathroom (kids or adults).
• There are hitchhikers everywhere, and people actually pick them up!
• Have you ever thought about what happens to old billboards? Me either, but I found where they go to die 

  

  Billboard Graveyard

• There are condom dispensers every 30 feet or so on the streets. At home, these exist, but are typically located discretely in bar bathrooms. 

  

  One of the condom dispensers I saw while walking in Cagnes sur Mer 

• The French use a 24 hour clock (military time). This definitely makes communicating about schedules interesting.
• After one of my failed attempts to meet with the other au pairs, I was so upset that I just needed a taste of home, and so I went and got some french fries from McDonald's. I discovered that they have something called "french fry sauce" here. I don't know what it is, and I don't plan on finding out.

McDonald's French Fry Sauce

• I also discovered that the drive-thrus here don't have microphones- instead, there is a person standing outside taking your order. I've only ever seen this at In 'n Out, and only on really busy days

Drive Thru at McDonald's

Well, I hope that you all have found this post as amusing and informative as the last one. Last night was my final night here, and I finally got to enjoy a peaceful sunset walk in the valley below the house. Raffi, one of the dogs on the property, was down there when I was walking for some reason (dogs aren't leashed or attended to very much here), and decided to join me. It was a lovely way to say goodbye to the view. 

Raffi on our walk

Finally got to see a glimpse of the River Loup

Beautiful evening view of the valley

I'm leaving here in a matter of hours to stay with a friend in Nice for a couple of days and hopefully do some exploring before leaving for Germany on Tuesday. I can't wait to share with you all the adventures in store for me in the next few weeks! Here's to the end of one learning experience, and the beginning of another, hopefully much better, one. 

Thank you all again for reading and for your constant support and advice. I'm so lucky to have each and every one of you! I'll be keeping you posted!

Hugs from France,

Hayley 

Week 1 in France: Culture Shock, Homesickness, Expectations vs. Reality, and Dogs!

Hello, friends! I'm writing to you while stuck sick in bed- not exactly how I wanted to spend my Sunday, especially considering the family is on a cruise ship for the day, but at least it gives me time to write my first weekly blog post. This week has been…difficult…to say the least. However, I've managed to learn a great deal about myself already, which I suppose can be looked at as a silver lining (but more on that later).

I suppose I should start with where I am. The thing is, I'm not entirely sure…the address I was given says "Tourrettes sur Loup," but the place known around here as Tourrettes is about 10 minutes from where we are, and when I post on Facebook, my location shows up as "Bar sur Loup." Whatever the case, I'm located in the hills between Nice and Cannes, somewhere along the river Loup. The house is in the middle of a deep valley enclosed by steep mountainous walls and waterfalls. Houses are build on hills and cliffs and everything here is very old and small. It's a beautiful sight to behold.

Panorama of the view from the balcony

A view in town

Another view in town

The view from my window

Valley walls with a waterfall

The family I'm staying with lives on a large piece of property shared with three other families. Their house has a quaint little studio up above it, which is where I live. It's quite nice; my only complaints are that the shower is so tiny I can barely reach down for my product bottles, and that the wifi up here is very weak and spotty.

Panorama of my studio

I haven't gotten to do much exploring yet, but I have driven through town a couple of times to pick up my little girl, Line (pronounced Leen), from school. Her school is ancient and tiny, with only 80 children between preschool and fifth grade.

Line's school

I also got to drive a bit through the surrounding areas of Cagnes sur Loup, Nice, Antibes, and Cannes when I went with the family to run some errands. The coastline and towns are beautiful, and the cities are full of people of all kinds. 

Tourrettes sur Loup

While I haven't gotten to see much yet, I've seen enough to give me definite culture shock. I've compiled a list of things that I've seen this week that have rattled me to my core:

• Dudes of all ages wear capris, or as I call them, Manpris. These upsetting garments come in every pattern and fabric imaginable, from denim to cargo to plaid. If there are more that two males around you, one of them is guaranteed to be rocking Manpris.
• Many of the signs here are in typed in comic sans. If you have spent any time on the internet at all, you will understand why this is a bit hard to swallow.
• The cars here are tiny, and the parking spaces are even tinier. Pretty much every car in any given parking lot has dents on the doors from being hit by other cars. It's unavoidable.
• There is no such thing as a cautious driver here. I don't consider myself particularly timid behind the wheel, but I don't drive with reckless abandon. The one time I've driven here thus far, I was on a very narrow and windy mountain road, and even though I felt like I was going fast, I was being aggressively tailgated by a soccer mom.
• Some highway exits have tolls and some don't. As far as I know, there isn't really a way to tell which except for experience. I don't get the reasoning behind it, but hey, I don't really get anything else here either.
• Road and traffic laws here are more like suggestions. For example, speed limits and lane lines exist, but are more often than not completely disregarded. Everyone drives like a complete maniac, but no one has road rage because they're all doing the same thing. I haven't seen a single accident or cop either, which shocks me more than anything considering the way people drive.
• You can park in any direction on the street. This isn't necessarily problematic, but it's definitely weird to see.
• The roads in the small mountain towns (like the one I'm in) are windy, dangerous, and barely wide enough to fit one tiny car. Yesterday, while heading back from the cities, I was thinking about what would happen if we were to come upon a car driving in the opposite direction. And of course, it was my lucky day! While rocketing down one such road (my Host Father was behind the wheel, I was turning white in the passenger seat), we shot out from behind a corner and he had to slam on the breaks to keep from colliding head on into a car coming right towards us. What's more, I was the only one at all shaken by this. Both cars proceeded to reverse and angle themselves dangerously close to the edge of the mountain in order to pass each other. Honestly, we were so close to the other car that, had I been sitting on the other side of the car, I could have licked the person we were passing. And this is a commonplace occurrence.
• Roundabouts are utter chaos. There are no rules, and getting in and out of one is the very definition of a "Jesus take the wheel" situation. I do not look forward to having to navigate these, or French roads in general, on my own.
• Modesty doesn't exist here. We went to a sports superstore (and I mean super...this place made REI look like a little mom n' pop shop), and all over the place there were people, old and young, stripping down in the middle of the aisles trying on clothes. I don't even know if they have dressing rooms here. Another example- yesterday, while I was watching my little one swim, her dad came out to join her wearing a speedo. This would have been fine, except that the speedo kept falling off in the water, and he wouldn't fix it very often. After swimming, he proceeded to walk around for the rest of the night in briefs and a short T-shirt. I had absolutely no idea what to do with myself.

While some of these cultural differences are amusing, they make life difficult. Especially when combined with jet lag, persistent nausea and overall illness, language barriers, unexpected changes to my work hours, and feeling completely isolated. This perfect storm of factors has created an extreme case of homesickness. There is no way to put in words how much this disappoints me. I know that homesickness is completely normal, but I was so excited to come here, and I had all these amazing plans and ideas. Sadly, though, I'm beginning to suspect that my expectations are not going to match up with my reality very well. This is mostly because of the sudden and relatively dramatic shift in my work hours. Now, to be fair, the family is very kind and generous. They are not overworking me and they aren't breaking most au pair labor laws (they do have me working more hours in a day a few days a week than what is allowed, but this is common in France and I am still technically under the maximum total for work hours in a week). In addition, my contract was written vaguely enough that it allows for this last minute change. My issue is that I was expecting a very different situation than what I've gotten. Here's the situation:

I was told during my interviews with them that my working hours would be MTTHF 4:30-7, W 12-7 (French schools release early on Wednesdays), with mornings, days, and weekends off for classes and travel. This was perfect for me, as my main reason for choosing to try Au Pairing was to travel and explore. Within the last couple of days, I have been made aware that both parents intend to take multiple week-long trips to Paris for work, sometimes together but usually separate. Regardless of if they both go, however, I will be in full charge of Line in the morning before school and after school, and occasionally on weekends. I expected to do some extra hours, as that's kind of part of the job, but I was thinking more like a date night a couple of times a month…that's what the agency said to expect. I was also informed that I have to pick up and mind two of Line's schoolmates two-three days a week most weeks. The real kicker here- I don't get any extra pay for any of it. I only receive my initial salary that is meant to cover the hours I was originally given. As I've said, the family is very generous; I have free room and board and use of a car. But these things are expected for Au Pairs in France. It's part of the deal. Except for a small amount of courtesy overtime, extra hours are supposed to be compensated for.

To me, this means one of two things; either I have to have an incredibly awkward conversation in a foreign language asking them to pay me more for my extra hours, or, if it continues, I have to terminate my contract. What it really boils down to is that I didn't come here for money. I saved for years to be able to travel. They knew when they chose me that I'd be using every spare second I could to go off and see the world- it's the first thing I wrote in my letter of intent to the French government! I value my time off more than I value extra pay. If I can't have that time, then there is no point in my staying here. I could easily nanny or get another job at home and make way, way more money. I think there is a disconnect between their past experience with au pairs and what I expected from the situation. Their previous au pairs have all come here with very little money and the intention of immersing themselves in the French language and culture (I believe they were all French majors in college). I have talked to one of them about this, and she told me that she only went to one other country during her entire year here, because she didn't have the time, money, or desire to go elsewhere. She also didn't mind working the extra hours, as it worked with her goals. My goals are very, very different. I came here not necessarily to become familiar with just the French culture, but to visit every single place on my European bucket list. That's what I have worked so hard to be able to do. Anything less than that, to me, isn't worth it. I am not that into French/France specifically…I chose this country purely based on who gave me the best offer. Perhaps that seems ungrateful of me to say, but that's not my intention. I signed up for this knowing what I wanted. Either way, it's going to be tough. The family is very, very nice. I don't want to come off as ungrateful or spoiled, and I don't want them to think I don't like them. But I've heard many au pair horror stories, and if they're changing the rules this early on, who knows what else will change? 

As of now, my current plan is to try my very best to stick it out. If I'm still unhappy or if things get worse, when it comes time to buy my plane ticket back here after coming home for Christmas, I'll tell the family that I won't be returning and that they need to start looking for a new au pair. Technically I only need to give a week's notice, but I would want to give them as long as I could to find a replacement. I owe them that much. 

The one thing keeping me relatively sane right now is that there are animals on this property- three dogs and a cat! Of course, being a dog person, I am very happy to be surrounded by happy furry companions. They're all very loving and come in and out of the house at all hours (even though only one of the dogs and the cat "belong" to the family).

Ganna

Raffi

   

Bambou (the family dog)

Caramel

My final thought for this post is one of gratitude, for my home and all of you. I never thought I would miss San Jose, but I do. I miss going to my favorite frozen yogurt spot, I miss the Boardwalk, I miss the familiar roads and buildings. But most of all I miss the people, my people, the ones who put up with me, keep me laughing, and keep me sane. For a long time I've been fighting my introverted tendencies, wishing I was more outgoing and spontaneous. I have always preferred quiet nights in and familiar places to wild nights out exploring the unknown, and I have always hated myself for that. In the last few days, I've gone through some major steps towards personal acceptance. For the first time, I'm okay with knowing that I'm not wild at heart. It's not that I don't want to see new places- I do, that's why I came here- but I've realized that I'd so much rather share them with the people who mean the most to me. Who knows, maybe things will change when I start my French class and make friends. I certainly hope that's the case. Only time will tell.

Thanks everyone for reading and checking up on me. I'll be writing another post at the latest a week from today with an update. Any kind and encouraging words are appreciated! 

Hugs from France,

Hayley