(no subject)
France was too much to come back from. At the end it was like I wanted to live there. This was the icing on the cake: On the plane back, my neighbor was the general manager of the North American division of a French telecom company. I was trying unsuccessfully (due to hangover etc etc) to read some book for school while he banged out emails, looked at charts and made notes the whole way. Over lunch, we got to talking about his business. He traveled too much, told me he was glued to his blackberry twelve hours a day at home and that it was never off when he was away. He had truly worked hard and pulled himself up from loading boxes to a management position. He told me business was different in France, that they "enjoy life more" even. While the entire French division of his company takes August off, the North Americans keep chugging along. He said calling a French businessman on August is like calling someone in the states on Christmas Eve. He said scheduling a meeting at eight am in France is like scheduling a meeting at seven am in the states. He told me that coming out of my school I probably wouldn't have trouble finding a good job with a good salary in the business world, but that it'd be completely cutthroat scrambling to get to the top, that I'd be working ridiculous hours all of the time and that would just be how it would be. That may be just how things work, and I will not be able to avoid it. But I wondered if it would be different if I moved to France.
Speaking to him made me think about spreading myself across so many miles. At first, it was great to go so far from friends and family and home. I was forced to make so many things happen on my own, and those first couple of years away changed me completely. But now it's all getting farther away. I turned twenty-one in Paris. Last year I turned twenty in Savannah, Georgia. The year before that I was in Montreal for my birthday and two days later I flew to Cleveland and then Minneapolis. This year I saw the first of the year turn in Ranthambore national park in the Northwestern province of Rajasthan, India. The year before that I was doing irish car bombs in the very center of Oregon state. I don't lament these privileges. I'm grateful to have the means to travel. Instead, my experiences are examples of the way in which life can be stretched. Breadth without depth. (But France was too much to come back from)
Speaking to him made me think about spreading myself across so many miles. At first, it was great to go so far from friends and family and home. I was forced to make so many things happen on my own, and those first couple of years away changed me completely. But now it's all getting farther away. I turned twenty-one in Paris. Last year I turned twenty in Savannah, Georgia. The year before that I was in Montreal for my birthday and two days later I flew to Cleveland and then Minneapolis. This year I saw the first of the year turn in Ranthambore national park in the Northwestern province of Rajasthan, India. The year before that I was doing irish car bombs in the very center of Oregon state. I don't lament these privileges. I'm grateful to have the means to travel. Instead, my experiences are examples of the way in which life can be stretched. Breadth without depth. (But France was too much to come back from)