There are some things about this country that still strike me every time I step outside the door. The people are closer here – not emotionally, but literally, physically closer. It’s not uncommon to see two young men on the same motorcycle; girls walk down the streets with their arms linked; people are comfortable sitting three or four to a bench, their shoulders and hips in contact. Sometimes it’s hard to tell who are friends and who are couples. Sometimes it’s not. Kissing in public isn’t nearly so frowned upon here.
Maybe I wouldn’t be noticing this so much if I wasn’t missing the physical contact I’m still so used to in my daily life. It’s been two months – one month in the apartment already – and I haven’t yet made any friends. I want to join a club, find some people to meet who share my interests, but I don’t know how to look for access to university clubs and dad hasn’t been able to help me yet – regardless, I’m not sure they’ve even started up yet. I miss my friends. I miss my girl. I miss having people around who I can touch who aren’t members of my family.
I have met some people, sort of. I spent a while listening to an old homeless man who I’ve always seen alone. It was hard to understand him through his thick accent and rapid speech, but I thought it was more important to listen than to understand every word he said. He was sweet, and very hopeful for the future, both mine and his – but he’s not the kind of person I want to spend a Saturday afternoon hanging out with. Same goes for the university-aged people I’ve bumped into a few times who were shocked and astonished to learn that I was completely drug-free and didn’t sleep around. I’d never been offered marijuana before, and I’d really rather keep it out of my face in the future.
It’s easier for my siblings – they go outside, play at the park, find other kids their age. The kids my age are all starting their first year of preparatory school, and are working hard to do well; even if they weren’t, the type of people I generally like hanging out with aren’t the types to go outside to make their friends. Hopefully I’ll be able to find something to do, some people I actually want to hang out with. I’ll look for a club. There’s also a goth and electronica night in a couple of weeks… I’m still debating on whether or not to go, because it starts really late, but it might be a good idea, at least to try out. I don’t know. We’ll see.
I seem to be saying that a lot lately. Please come visit me.
Posted by Tchy on Aug 18, 2009 in
Culture,
Daily Life,
Observations,
Personal Hello, Canada! It’s been a while, hasn’t it? For the last two weeks or so, we’ve been settling in, buying beds, getting used to the rhythms of daily life, exploring the city. We have our own internet service now, so I can get a stable connection in my bedroom. We have almost everything I’m used to having around me. More and more, I feel like Toulouse is my home. I can’t describe how much I love the place. I just wish everyone could be here to see it with me.
We’ve had a few guests over – friends of my dad’s, mostly. His old thesis supervisor, his wife, and their son are here on a half-year sabbatical, too, and they’re just around the corner, about a hundred metres from our house. We’ll be seeing a lot of them for the next five months, I’m sure.
Almost every day, someone goes out to buy bread. We eat bakery-fresh loaves with most of our dinners, and always have some left over for breakfast if we want it. There are about seven bakeries in the two or three blocks around our house. There are also loads of little groceries all over the place; sometimes mom sends me out with a few euros to pick up one or two ingredients for supper when she realizes we’re missing something. And there’s the big fruit and vegetable market, the Marché du Cristal, only a ten minute’s walk from here. The best part about that market is that the prices drop exponentially right around the time that everyone is packing up to go. Funny story…
Mom, dad, and Tristan went out a week or so ago to get some fruit. They were browsing as everything was closing, and a man was calling to them that they could buy one cardboard flat of twenty peaches for two euros. They debated, then he said they could get two for three euros. That, they decided, was too much, so they offered two euros for one flat – and were told, on no uncertain terms, that two euros would get them both flats, and to get them off his hands. They complied. We ate a lot of peaches for the next few days.
Peach smoothies are delicious, and I love peaches.
As well as that market, there’s also the Marché du Capitole, every Wednesday, where they sell clothes and used books and movies and jewellery and statues and sunglasses and shoes and makeup and anything else you could think of. I’ve bought some nail polish and eyeshadow, a few rings, and an awesome new watch. There’s also the Marché de Carmes, which is in the square a block or two from our house, and which is apparently something of a flea market. That one is on Sundays, and I haven’t checked it out yet.
The whole city seems constantly bustling with life. Even in the wee hours of the morning, I hear cars driving past on the main road just down the street, people walking, even the fountain in the square. Today two firetrucks stopped in front of my apartment and the firemen started bustling around on a building across the road; people leaned out of their windows to look, and gathered on the street a few dozen metres down. There are people everywhere, and everyone is going somewhere; everyone is laughing and talking and living. There are hundreds of restaurants just spilling onto the streets, and thousands of pedestrians anywhere.
Yesterday Tristan and I went for a walk. We ambled through one of the big gardens for a while, and were then shooed out by park staff, who said it was closing. We went wandering off towards the west, took a street that angled south, and got ourselves totally lost before finding our way back home. Those who know me well know there’s nothing I love more about going for walks than getting myself lost.
Maybe that’s why I love the city so much. Thousands of streets to explore, discover, and get lost on, surrounded by things that interest me. I am an outsider, learning about the city as only an outsider can. Lost, but not lonely.
Posted by Tchy on Aug 3, 2009 in
Daily Life,
Observations,
Personal We’re into our apartment and finally getting settled, and really, at the moment, nothing could make me happier. I love it here. I love that my street is one lane only, but with massive sidewalks; I love that I can say hello to my neighbours across the way through our open third-story windows; I love that I can lean out my sill and look down on the street below; I love that at night I can hear the fountain in the square at the end of the street, and the people talking and laughing in the bar just a few doors over.
I love that we are slowly filling up the house with things that make it ours; I love how all the shops I like are within a ten minute walk. I love how everywhere you turn, you can buy ice cream. I love how there are hundreds of amazing restaurants, and all you have to do is pick a direction to start walking. I love how everyone gets around on the metro, and it really doesn’t make sense to try driving in downtown Toulouse; I love how Toulouse is a pedestrian’s dream city, and I am a perpetual pedestrian. I love how quiet the streets are on Sundays, when nothing is open; I love how, every few blocks, there are squares and parks and green spaces. I love how beautiful everything is here.
I love my apartment. I love how my room has an armchair and a Soviet propaganda poster from WWII and a bookshelf that is thoroughly unnecessary because I also have a shelf built into my wall. I love how all my clothes fit neatly into a wardrobe and everything is tucked out of the way. I love how open and bright it is. I love how I can leave my giant windows open at night; I love how, even in the city, there are a few sparrows around to chirp a welcome to the morning sun. Bonjour, Toulouse!
I love how there is an open wireless connection in the neighbourhood that we can borrow so that I can tell you how much I love all of this.
Posted by Tchy on Jul 13, 2009 in
Daily Life,
Travel After a lovely (read: humid, sticky, and unsatisfying) visit to a Mediterranean beach today – more on that later – we made the move from the hotel, finally! Not to our beautiful downtown apartment, but to an equally beautiful house way out in the suburbs, owned by some friends, which we will be staying in for the next two and a half weeks while they are in England. There are three children in their family, and therefore three bedrooms; I am in the only upstairs room, which belongs to their middle daughter, Sophie.
All in all, it could certainly be worse. Yes, her room is papered with fashion and celebrity photos, and yes, she does have High School Musical on her video shelf, and yes, I could do without the Kelly Clarkson obsession and the horse show ribbons, but there are a couple of shelves of excellent books and a movie I really like in with the videos, the view is gorgeous, one of the celebrity pictures is Marilyn Monroe, and, best of all, I have my own room. I love my siblings, really, but sharing a hotel room with both of them for five nights was a bit much.
So, the Mediterranean – first, it’s warm. Not bathwater warm, but warmer than my experience with the Canadian Atlantic and Pacific Oceans let me to expect. The beach was really nice, too – long, wide, flat, and covered in fine sand – and I found a nice shell, but we really could have picked a better day. It was quite warm, but windy, and wind over the ocean tends to be chilly. It was also very humid and sticky, which meant, combined with the wind, that the powdery sand got everywhere.
I did finish my book, however, which is excellent. The Gargoyle, by Andrew Davidson. Read it.
Posted by Tchy on Jun 30, 2009 in
Daily Life,
Travel 
The family at the beach.
My last three days in Connecticut weren’t quite as exciting as the first couple. On Sunday, we went to the beach. It was rather pleasant – I love ocean beaches, and I collected a few nice shells. We also had an awesome lunch from the deli in the little park village just down the shore. Overall, though, it was pretty uneventful, save for both my mother and myself getting massive sunburns. I’m still in a good deal of pain, even two full days later.
On Sunday evening, the adults went out to dinner; this left me, my brother, and my sister to babysit four rambunctious toddlers and small children. We managed okay, though, and we got paid in pizza, which was excellent.
On Monday, we didn’t get up to much of anything; I didn’t want to move, due to being crispy all over, so I drew instead, prompting endless questions from the kids, as long as their attention span could keep them hovering over my shoulder – about five minutes at a time over a period of several hours. My aunt and uncle gave me a beautiful journal and some inking pens that evening, as a graduation gift.
The next morning (that being today), we got up rather early, as my aunt and uncle’s family was leaving early in the morning to catch a flight out of state to visit some of their relatives. I took some pictures of a bird in the backyard, and then we drove home. I spent a while writing on my laptop in the backseat, but then my battery died and I was left to listen to Franz Ferdinand on loop again.
Oh, the joys of monotonous travel…
Posted by Tchy on Jun 26, 2009 in
Daily Life,
Observations,
People,
Travel Well, today the vacations begin in earnest. Yesterday was graduation – I’m still not over it, by the way – and then I went out to dinner with my family, my grandparents, my girlfriend, Nami, and my best buddy, Meaghan. I got a camera for a graduation present, so as of now you can expect pictures to start showing up in my blog posts. Meaghan cut out for a while to go to another friend’s grad, but then she and Nami and I all crashed in my room. This morning we got up at eight, Meaghan and Nami left, and the family headed off to Connecticut to visit with Aunt Zed (short for Elizabeth), Uncle Colin, and our new fostered/adopted cousins.
The drive itself was not particularly exciting. In fact, I’d say the highlight of the ride would have been listening to the Tonight: Franz Ferdinand album for the first time – which was excellent, by the way, and I heartily recommend it. I took a few photos, but not much in the way of excitement.
My aunt and uncle's house: supremely New English.
I could tell we were getting close when the scenery started to take on a decidedly “New English” feel. You may not really recognize the term, but I feel like you’ll know the look. The houses are square and flat-fronted, with shutters, windowsills and window boxes, front porches, and American flags; it’s the sort of place where the roads wind, the village fire halls are more often than not contained in a barn, turkeys walk by the side of the roads, and the signs are hand painted. I always feel like the people who live here are the sort who bake apple pies and leave them to cool on their windowsills, take picnics in manicured parks, still borrow eggs and sugar from their neighbours, and are intensely – but politely – proud to be American. It’s a foreign environment, but a homey and welcoming one.
We arrived at my aunt and uncle’s house to excited young children shouting and were introduced to our new cousins. The oldest, Isaiah, is four; he is followed by Keanah (Kiki) and Aniah, three year-old identical twins; and baby Tatiannah, one and a half – yes, that’s right, the baby has my name. They’re very sweet kids and were very happy to meet their new big cousins.
Everyone is reading.
After bouncing off the walls for a while, we settled down to dinner, and then the kids went up to have their baths and go to bed. Now we’ve settled in to a thoroughly calming, comfortable atmosphere. For the first time in quite a while, I feel peaceful. The future holds many unknowns, but for now, there is no need to worry. It’s slow and sleepy around here, with a bit of an old world feel; whatever may come, I’ll be looked after.
Posted by Tchy on Jun 19, 2009 in
Daily Life,
Travel Oh, the adventures that can be had when at home alone!
Here it is! Mine is blue.
As of today, I am more or less living out of my suitcase. It’s spectacular, by the way. I easily managed to fit about 95% of the clothing I’m bringing into the damn thing, and it’s not because I’m not bringing much. Oh no, this suitcase is deceptive in how small it appears. It’s defying the goddamn laws of physics, currently containing approximately fifty pounds of clothing with ease. It’s got wheels and multiple carrying straps, too, and it’s very stylish. If anyone’s interested, it’s a Ricardo Beverly Hills Essentials duffel, and I am rather glad I got one for Christmas. Thanks Nana and Grandad!
The giant pile of clothing on my bed (having been stuffed into my epic suitcase) has now been replaced with the other items I’ll be bringing along with me, such as a few books, some posters, framed pictures, my doll, some games, the gum I’m addicted to, and the remaining accessory-type items that didn’t quite make it into the suitcase. These things will soon be packed into a second suitcase and/or a carry-on case. I still have some other things to collect, but overall I’m way ahead of the curve, which is good to know. I was worried about not getting everything done on time.
Once I’m done with this stuff I’m probably going to move on to my bathroom. As the bathroom is part of the house package that’s being rented out while we’re away (my bedroom is not) I have to make sure it’s spotless. I also promised my mom some help with removing general personal belongings from the public areas of the house.
Fun fact for all of you: packing the majority of your clothes into a suitcase makes it difficult to get dressed. It’s 2:56 in the afternoon, and I’m still in pyjamas!
Posted by Tchy on Jun 18, 2009 in
Daily Life,
Travel It began a long time ago for my parents and the family, but it’s really beginning in earnest today for me. Yesterday we sat down to plan what we’re doing for the first little while; today, I started going through my clothing. Most of the clothes I own are currently stacked in piles on my bed, awaiting packing. I have a big list of everything that I have to include sitting on the desk beside me. And I’ve finally managed to get myself into the mindset where I can think, yes, this is actually happening, and I am actually leaving in less than three weeks.
It’s something of a daunting prospect, really. Of course it’s exciting, and I’m looking forward to going, but at the same time there’s something very symbolically depressing about packing your entire life into two suitcases, a carry-on, and a messenger bag, and leaving behind everything you know. There’s still a lot to do, and a lot of preparations to make.
Right now, it still hasn’t quite hit me yet, but if I know myself, I know it’s going to hit when I’m getting on the plane to leave my home country. I’m really going to miss everyone, but it’s more than that: I’m just plain going to miss Canada. I’m going to miss Canadian bacon, maple syrup, poutine, speaking English, the amazing mints and gum I’m addicted to, my favourite downtown shops, being surrounded by my own things, living next to Lake Ontario. I’m adjusting. But the first few weeks are going to be hard.
More to follow as the packing adventure continues tomorrow and the madness goes on for the next week. There will be time enough to be regretful later. For now, I’m just going to enjoy every second I have left.
