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Published: February 24th 2010
Mentone
On the azure coast.As demonstrated in the pictures, I was In Menton, France, for the carnival break. Carnival is a truly fantastic holiday. In way it's like an extended Halloween, but with parades in place of trick-or-treating. Unfortunately I wasn't able to take pictures of all of the elements of the parade, but I got a few of the best ones and I think you can get a general sense of the atmosphere with those. Once again I feel there is little to say that isn't said by the pictures or their captions... so I shall move on.
The day that we returned to school it was raining... naturally. As I walked the 15 minutes to school, I noted the sodden confetti plastered to the sidewalk like so many colorful memories of costumes and smiles. It could very easily be taken as a depressing symbol, particularly on a cold, wet, dark, Monday morning, but I didn't see these soggy rainbow ribbons like that. It struck me more as a statement of the general flow of life; there are these large waves of celebration that wash over populations, everyone breaking free of general monotony to experience a little communal joy. But just like fresh
Azure
and here you can see why they call it the 'azure' coast. This is the view of the large family apartment. green buds in spring, we cannot remain in a constantly exalting state. So we slip back into our routines again (and routines they are, no matter how sporadic they seem in the moment), the lifeless confetti a little reminder of the time past, and the time to come. So looking at it, these muddied snips of paper, I was happily aware of the present; not of school, or the fact that it was Monday, but of that snap of time when the party is over, but the normality is still at bay, relishing in the unpredictability of thought that is hidden in our routines.
Speaking of reminders and such... I have realized that learning another language, and being immersed in it, gives memories an odd tint. It is something I noticed a while back, and thought of again recently for another reason.... well, let me explain: When the language was still enough of a barrier that I wasn't always able to fully express myself, I would remember some conversation, or something I had explained to someone, but it would come with the question "how was I able to explain that?". Then I would remember it was all in English,
and that I don't have to translate my thoughts as in Italian. This would all be followed by a quick wave of something similar to guilt for not having tried to say it in Italian, then the final comprehension of the entire situation I was in. It was a strange thing to go through every time you have a memory! Recently I was reminded of this again, because I DIDN'T go through it with a memory that I normally would have, and after a little thought, I realized that its because even though the memory was in English, I wouldn't have trouble expressing it in Italian. For this reason, my brain didn't bother putting me through that strange language haze to access my real memory. The odd joys of learning are innumerable.
Another telltale sign I have gotten used to Italy: I don't notice the church bells that toll every two minutes (well, more like 15-30, but still). I actually go through days and don't think about it once, coming to the end of the day with the very false impression that I haven't heard any. In fact, as I sit here writing this, I here at least two
More azureness
and me obviously different churches tolling 7:00, but I know I would never have noticed if I hadn't been thinking about it, waiting for it. In fact, it feels as though those are the first that have sounded in my ears all day. How strangely the human mind functions.
I wish abstract revelations to you all!! - Julia
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