Summer in France

Up to now I knew the way from my house to my work and the way to the supermarket. Sunday was my first day off - I had not planned it that way - A swimm in the pool in one village, then off to the flea market in another, then back to my office. Definitely back to my office - how am I ever going to do all that work otherwise? But then somehow the car did not find the way back. It was the urge to know what I would find behind the next bend, what would the next village look like, and the village after that, and after that, and...

And because I really have no time at the moment I have uploaded all the photos from this trip  uncensored and uncut in my picasa folder. Klick here if you are interested in seeing what my neighbourhood looks like.

KEEP CALM - kleines Update

Ich hatte dann am Samstag  keine Lust nach Mitternacht im Stockdunkeln nach Draußen zu gehen um SMS Codes zu empfangen. Heute morgen habe ich erfolgreich  drei Empfänger in mein Online Konto eingegeben und mit per SMS erhaltenem CODE bestätigt. Hatte ich fest geglaubt jetzt sei endlich alles gut und ich könnte jetzt gleich Geld überweisen -  hatte ich nicht mit meiner französischen Bank gerechnet. Sie versprechen mir schnellen Service: In nicht mehr als 48 Stunden werden sie überprüft haben ob ich auf diese Konten wirklich Geld hinüberweisen darf - und dann hoffen wir mal. Also warten auf Mittwoch.

KEEP CALM!!!!!!

Wenn man sieben Tage die Woch von morgens bis abends weit nach 22 Uhr arbeitet, dann wird die 3 Stunden Nachmittagspause sehr, sehr wertvoll - um all die Dinge zu erledigen die man so erledigen muss - zum Beispiel eine neues Telefon kaufen - weil das "Neue" nach vier Wochen den Geist aufgegeben hat und man in diesem Land nix, und auch gar nix im Internet erledigen kann ohne einen Bestätigungscode, den man auf sein Mobiltelefon geschickt bekommt, einzugeben. Was schon nicht leicht ist, wenn man so wie ich nur im Büro Internet hat, der Mobiltelefonempfang dort aber sehr launisch ist und man erst aus dem Haus gehen muss - manchmal bis zum Gepardengehge - um dann diesen Code zu empfangen.
Wenn man zum Kauf eines Telefons erst in die nächstegelegene Stadt fahren muss (also hin und zurück fast 80km zurücklegen) und dann feststellt, dass montags alle - aber auch alle - Geschäfte geschlossen sind, ist das sehr frustrierend. Ist wohl so in Frankreich üblich - Ok, wird nicht wieder passieren jetzt weiß ich's. Ich habe mich in das nette Café gesetzt, wo es die vielen Teesorten und den leckeren Kuchen gibt und die Sonne genossen.

Heute morgen will ich schnell beim lokalen "Supermark" vorbei und mir eine Tafel Schokolade oder irgendwas ähnliches zu kaufen - ganz DRINGED für den Tag am Schreibtisch!!! Ich stehe vor dem geschlossenen Supermark, weil "monsieur l'épicier" eine Woche im Urlaub ist.
Weil ich irgendwie nicht so richtig ins Arbeiten komme, dachte ich gerade, ich mache mal eine Überweisung an mein gebeuteltes deutsche Konto. Das hat nämlich in den letzten Monaten alle Überweisunge übernehmen müssen (lange Geschichte - Kurzfassung: Eröffne niemals ein Konto bei der französischen Postbank oder erwarte, dass es einige Wochen, Telefonanrufe viel Zeit in der Warteschleife braucht bis alles läuft). Es regnet auch gerade nicht. Das ist wichtig, siehe: Spaziergang zum Gepardengehege für die Durchführung jeder Transaktion. Ich klicke mich durchs Menü. Auf meinem Bildschirm erscheint die Meldung "Le service Certicode est disponible du dimanche matin au vendredi soir." zu Deutsch: Überweisungen kann ich nur Sonntags morgens bis Freitags abends machen. Tief durchatemen - ganz tief durchatment. Nach Mitternacht nochmal probieren.

Wenn ich mich jetze beeile schaffe ich es noch ins Schwimmbad, ich muss ausnutzen dass heute von 14Uhr bis 17Uhr45 lange Öffnungszeiten sind - und danach ist der Supermark ja gleich neben an - Sagte ich bereits, dass ich den ganzen Tag hier sitze und "Schokolade, Schokolade, Schokolade..." denke?

Something nice...

First time standing!

Something positive

I need to post something positive. I will. I promise.

Itchy and painful

Working outside in a forrest, by a pond in the wee hours and in the evenings means there are lots of insects and ticks around.
And every night there are more bites and every day I find ticks somewhere on me. I don't know if it was that or something else that caused the outbreak of this horrendous skin irritation all over my decolté and my face that kept me awake all night. Everything is so sensitive that just a single one of my own hairs touching my skin makes me jump. This is not good when you need to do observations in the cool nighttime and you can't wear any clothes that touch your neckline. I can hardly open my left eye, which obviously is not good either when you need to do observations.
Today in my Lunchbreak I went to see a doctor. Previous encounter with the doctor in my village let me choose a practioner in the neighbouring village, 16km from here. He is nice. He does not know the cause of my pain - it doesn't matter as long as he knows how to stop it! - He prescribes 4 different things - something for everything. Nope, I still have no French social insurance - it needs a lot of paperwork and we are still working on that.  I drive another 17km to the nearest town that has got a pharmacy. I wait almost an hour for the pharmacy to reopen after the holy French lunchbreak. I collect my things and buy an insect repellent. In the car I apply hydrocortison cream - almost immediate relief. 33km drive back. End of lunchbreak.

The child

After almost two months now I have seen the first little child in my village (apart from my niece that was visiting me) - fast asleep in the buggy. Wow, I thought - maybe not all people here are old - there are young people with the courage to bring up a child in this place!
And then I saw the dad: one hand pushing the buggy - tourist guide in the other, camera round his neck...

The moment...

You know, the daily moment, when I just want to drop everything and leave...

Last night, when I came home from the office at 2 am and just wanted to sleep, there was that smell again that I had so far associated with the wet chimney (my landlord promised me 5 weeks ago that he would close the old fireplace with a piece of wood - because whenever it rains it rains through the chimney which results in a puddle on the floor of the fireplace - not that boarding up the fire place would stop the rain coming through the chimney, but you would not see it anymore...). This time the smell was really strong - maybe because the weather changed. So I followed my nose and I found it behind the bed. The mold on the wall,  just right next to my head (I also found a hundred more ants when I moved the bed - Yup - I am still not alone in my flat).
Since I moved into the flat I have had the suspicion that my landlord's words "tout neuf" meant something  like "I covered everything that you would not want to know about with tiles and wallpaper and paint" and that my lasting cough that pretty quickly dissapeared when I stayed elswhere last week might be related to that. 
So I have finished work a bit early tonight - only worked until 9:30pm :-)
Now I have some time to search for pre-formulated letters online and look at some vocabulary and legal stuff to cancel my lease -  I wonder if I can get out of the lease early given the conditions in the appartment - so a lot of research in a language that I will probably never master ahead of me tonight. It will be difficult to find a new flat, because of the amount of paperwork and that you need a guarant that I cannot provide because I don't know anyone in France. Given that I have not been home befor midnight the last 5 days and my supervisor only yesterday suggested that I should start a few hours earlier than 7.30 in the morning, I will at least not have to worry about where to sleep should I find myself homeless.

The flood

Last night I slept in the office on three chairs. It was late by the time I had finished and I just didn’t want to go back to that flat with the sofa that smells of mice and the smelly chairs. But today, I just felt I had to shower and change clothes and maybe sleeping on a mattress would not be so bad. So at 1:30 am I shut down the computer and decided to go home.

On the way home in the car (yeah, I went home in my very own car for the first time!!!) I thought that now everything may be good and I manage to cope with life in France, at least for a while and that it was time to tell the people with the van to deliver my boxes that are still in Glasgow.

Am I going to write about today’s moment – the “I am going to pack my bags and go home moment”? About the flood in my flat, the soaking wet rugs and the soaking duvet (at 2am in the morning – looking forward to 4 ½ hours of sleep before I go back to work)? The moment when I wished I had at least one friend I could phone and ask if I could crush on her sofa tonight. I don’t think I have the strength to write about this moment and how all this happened – it is 4am by now, I will try to get at least some sleep in spite of a washing machine that I filled with smelly soaking wet towels and clothes and that will be taking a stroll around the kitchen, banging backwards and forwards for the rest of the night.

I need to get out of this flat as soon as possible. The question is where am I going from there – am I going through the effort of finding a new flat or am I going to give in and finally pack my bags and leave this whole project and France and go back home?

Pictures from the neighbourhood.

The local supermarket (They don't sell bread - that one is a lie.)

A street corner. (I don't know if there still are any children in this village nowadays)