The words just kept on flowing out.
I was excited to be making the cross over with a blog acquaintance and her friend from the virtual world to reality, especially as it had popped out of the big blue. A little shy too because I am sometimes. And so the words kept coming out in an overflow, covering and revealing.
As grateful as I am for all of my contacts with the online community, I miss the simple joy of delighting in girlfriend time, especially with such a lovely and engaging duo. The expat community in Arles is tiny dots and so it is extremely rare that I sip San Pellegrino with women who speak the same language, have the same cultural references and laugh at the same second with an acknowledgement of a certain play on words. Face to face, seeing flickers of expression, I realize that many French women that I know keep a far more steely control and that the exchange is based more on dialogues than volleys.
This difference brewed like a wealth of communication in comparison on this particular rainy afternoon. A casual reassurance rested somewhere next to the straw on the table between us by just being present.
A bit like sunset up on the roof that spills the brim of its cup. And so were my words, pulling a string of scarves out of a silk top hat, to chase from red to pink to gold. Stories to tell and be heard. For once I will try not to worry if it was too much.
I woke up wondering. I remember that I am lucky but also that I feel what I know. A sugar sort of bittersweet overflow.
You write so lyrically. THis is just beautiful. You captured the heart and the color — I felt the emotion. I think there is truth to the differences in how we talk and hold our emotions.
i enjoy reading your blog because you talk about your real life in Provence. I also love hearing about the dogs. My husband and I lived in Aix during the 80's. The Anglo American Club really helped me. We raised 3 children here for 8 years. I have aways found it helpful to have english speaking friends when living away from California. Now we are back and not very far from you. (between St. Martin de Crau and Maussane) Coffee?
I know exactly what you mean…that instant connection of ideas, where humour collides in the same second and there is such a quick uptake….resulting in the wonderful warm glow of sharing on the same level. No need to work at it.
I used to think it was a cultural thing, of growing up in similar circumstances, but I don't think that now…it seems to be something much more intangible…
Funny though, last night Henrietta and I were discussing how much better it would be if the whole world spoke the same language….would be so many more books to share and so much more depth to a conversation that isn't constantly being translated.
“pulling a string of scarves out of a silk top hat, to chase from red to pink to gold”
telling stories and listening. sometimes, like you wrote, it’s nice to have a different cup of coffee just for the look and taste
I’m reading very slowly, about half hour in the morning with breakfast and half hour before I close my eyes to sleep at night, Proust’s Remembrance of Things Past. I’m on Swann in Love. It’s reading rather than listening but I’m hearing the stories that Marcel is telling.
I’m sorry I’m comparing my trivial musing to your beautiful sunset that overflows its brim.
The sky changing every moment is a pleasure to remember.
Oh Heather, in my times in foreign countries, France being one of them. I had perfectly fine friendships but I am going to be controversial here but speaking in one's mother tongue and doing funny accents ( on purpose ) and high fiveing after silly comments and quips is something that the english language brings to friendships. It must be a socio-linguistic aspect to the language. But also I used to get frustrated at sometimes having to explain references and speaking slowly or asking them to repeat something. Not that the others didn't have a sense of humour but as you said so correctly there is just a smooth path of communication so it is natural to overflow. And let it flow! xx
Sorry, Heather, my Ipad sometimes stops me in the middle of a comment…..I was going to say we also have dogs in common…..a great place to start:-)
There's just so much here that we expats understand, and you've put it quite beautifully. Not to mention the photos, which are nothing short of glorious…breathtaking. If you can stand another American by way of many years in Ireland) who is now in France, we might meet sometime
Culturally, we are all so different that sometimes it takes a person who has grown up under the same circumstances to understand us. That's why I make my American husband roll his eyes after all these years – because I still don't always get it 🙂
Our son living in Morocco has often said how much he misses having Americans to just talk with. And he commented that even though he had to do a lot of translating while we were with him, he really felt it was a nice break to just sit and talk with us some of the time.
It is nice when we connect with people who share our topographies.