If John Henry was a steel-driving man,...

If you have 30 minutes to kill, I recommend trying to explain the concept of "Thanksgiving" to someone who doesn't speak English/has never lived in the United States. When you're finished - if you're not out of time - give "football" a go. Finally, explain why the two go together so well. (I ran out of time somewhere in the middle of "football.")

This week, Marie asked me what "Thanksgiving" was all about. She told me what she thought it was about: well-to-do American families invite homeless people into their homes and feed them lots of good food. Well, the thought was nice. I knew I lost her sometime early when I tried to explain Pilgrims and Indians, and it only went down hill from there. We ended by saying that it was mostly just families - very few homeless - gathering to eat and be thankful for the things they have. As I was about to leave the kitchen to listen to the Ohio State/Michigan game, Marie asked me to explain American football. This didn't go as well as "Thanksgiving." We had trouble with the idea that each team had an "offense" and "defense," the same players didn't play both, and only one team got the ball at a time. I had to end it with "It's too difficult to explain" to make kickoff. Needless to say we had no turkey, there was no candy corn, and I'm still waiting for my pumpkin pie.

Thanksgiving explanations aside, we worked this week. We spent the first three days of the week pruning in the vineyards. We spent the last two days picking rocks out of a field to prepare it for planting in April. When I say "picking" rocks, I mean the large chunks of earth that bulldozers uncover when they drag 4' long blades through the ground (similar to the bulldozer pictured). After two days of loading those pieces into a trailer, I feel like I've been in a car accident. The good news is that this week I learned how to drive the tractors at work. Now, I don't have to wait for someone to pick me up in the morning. I just fire up the Renault Dionyis 130.

In other news, I think I've figured out a solution to my unhappiness in France - which would be for me to leave. I'd bought a plane ticket to Prague for Christmas and New Years, and I think I might be staying (uh, Joel and Greg, I hope that's okay with you). I've also received a couple of job offers to work with the wine in New Zealand. I'm currently trying to decide which to accept, and hope to travel before I begin work.

In honor of Thanksgiving, this seemed appropriate: http://www.theonion.com/content/node/55331

sorry, no pictures...

Disclaimer: A lot of you have read and responded to my last posting which detailed some of the challenges I'm currently facing in france. For those of you with whom I'm spoken, thanks for your patience listening to my thoughts. For those of you who have taken the time to email me and pass along encouragement, thank you. It's nice to know that A. people actually read my blog, and B. my friends care about me. In that vein, I'm posting an expanded view of what I've been thinking regarding my situation. It's rough - I've written it quickly and without editing (aside from the free advice of Microsoft Word), and it's definitely a big change from the more light-hearted posts so far. It's by no means the "final word" - it's just what's on my mind today. On y va.

I’ve been thinking a lot about my current situation in France, and just this afternoon I’ve had the opportunity to talk with a couple of my best friends on the (internet) phone. While we talked about a lot of things in those couple hours, I struggled to express what I’d been feeling lately about my situation at the winery. I think it’s complicated because what I feel as one large emotion really comes out of two separate, lesser emotions. The first and most upsetting emotion is the anger which I feel when I think about the ways I’ve been mislead by Marie, the woman who owns the winery and hired me back in June. Without going into too much detail, I feel that fault lies on both sides for not clarifying many important issues before agreeing to work together. The second emotion can most easily be called loneliness, and has resulted from the physical isolation of the winery, the lack of people on the estate after work, and my inability to go to nearby towns where I have the opportunity to meet other people who may speak English and/or share common interests.

I believe many experiences are enhanced when shared, and not being able to share my experiences – actually visiting towns, seeing sights, and learning about the culture – with other people (people with whom I can communicate verbally, people who understand not only inflections but colloquialisms, people – basically – who speak the same language and share common interests) has caused me to miss this part of the adventure. Isn’t this why we go on trips together? And by default, isn’t this why we seem to meet people with common interests when we travel (alone or with friends)? “Hey, you’re hiking Grinnell Glacier because you also want to see it before it’s gone? Me too! Where are you camping tonight?...”

Sometimes, the physical location isn’t even the important thing we remember about the experience. How many times have you been someplace with someone – maybe it’s a historically important place, maybe it’s your living room – and the experience itself is a product only of the shared communication and resulting understanding? I know I’ve had these experiences with people all over the place – in cars or on boats or hiking up glaciers or sitting on the couch at 3 in the morning. Joel and I sat on the steps in front of the cathedral in Narbonne last week, eating our crepes, and had a conversation that probably couldn’t have occurred any where else in the world. It’s not that it was intrinsically tied to that exact physical location – it was just a combination of all of the circumstances coming together at that exact time. Of course, these aren’t guaranteed experiences. But I can guarantee you won’t have any without someone else who understands the same language, and therefore the ideas you’re trying to communicate.

So, talking with greg and joel allowed me to clarify the two separate emotions for myself, and begin to ask the bigger question: am I settling for a less-than-ideal situation here in france? It’s a big question, because there’s always the tendency to think “the grass is greener…” But when is the grass actually greener, and when are we only deceiving ourselves into thinking so? When is the time actually right to “move on” and find greener pastures?

I don’t want to leave France because I’m facing something that’s not comfortable. Being uncomfortable can force us to grow and teach us new things about ourselves and others. If I’m here and the work is “too hard,” or “it rains a lot,” or whatever, those aren’t good reasons to leave. I also don’t think that leaving only because someone somewhere else seems to be having more fun is a good option, either. It’s tough to tell if the difference between being “okay” and being “fulfilled” is great enough to warrant moving along.

But sometimes, in the short term, I think you have to sit back and ask yourself what you’re trying to get out of an experience. This doesn’t always have to be a multifaceted question. Have I seen what there is to see, learned what there is to learn, and done what there is to do? While it’s difficult to answer yes with 100% on any occasion, sometimes being close is good enough. I’m not in france to become a citizen or learn the language inside and out. I’m not here to get a permanent job in the wine industry, and I don’t want to “settle down” in this part of the world. The time I’m taking off of school is for me to explore different places, see different things, and meet different people, hopefully while sharing the experiences with my friends. It’s not to make money. Judging by that criteria, I’d say I’ve seen and explored most of what’s available to see in this area under the current circumstances, I’ve obviously not been able to meet as many people as I’d like due to physical limitations, and I’ve shared only two days in the past 10 weeks with someone I’d consider my friend.

The benefits of staying in France for the whole 6 months are that I’d be able to pocket about another $1000 (USD), and wouldn’t have many opportunities to spend money during the subsequent two weeks leading up to the wine harvest in New Zealand.

If I do decide to leave France sometime in January (maybe the middle, maybe the end), I’d have the opportunity to travel to Prague and live with my friends for a couple of weeks. While they’d work during the days, we’d have nights and weekends to see the country – occasionally traveling together – and I’d have opportunities to meet new people and establish new relationships. After some time in Prague, I’d be able to head toward New Zealand a few weeks before work begins and see that country. I also have three or four friends living there now, and I would like to catch up with them and learn about their lives in their home countries. Overall, I’d probably not save as much money. However, the benefits would allow me to spend more time in more places sharing more experiences with more people. Aren’t those the things I said above were most important?

I don’t advise settling for anything. It’s not good to settle in relationships or situations that you know aren’t the best for you (disclaimer: this is not intended to be used as an “out” in cases where people just don’t want to deal with something). I’ve come this far to Europe to see and feel and do, and when I’m not seeing and feeling and doing anymore at a certain place, then I think it’s time to move along, and see and feel and do something else, someplace else, and maybe with someone else. I don’t want to look back in 4 years, while I’m sitting in grad school, reading about relationships between small land owners and growing townships and think, “why did I stay at that winery when I was no longer learning? I should have packed up, moved on, and found the next thing.”

It was the best of times; it was the worst of times.

10am break: wine, cheese, bread, coffee.

The past couple weeks have opened my eyes to a few things and potentially set in motion events that would lead to my leaving France earlier than expected. I’ll start with the highlights… The pictures you’re seeing are from an olive oil estate. Marie offered my help this week to a friend of hers who owns the operation. I was treated graciously, and although I was charged the same amount of money per day for food and lodging ($25), I felt like I was actually getting what I paid for. By this I mean the food was excellent, I slept in a bedroom with heat, and my bathroom actually had a toilet. What’s more, the entire family went out of their way to make me feel at ease and comfortable in the new surroundings. I enjoyed the three days and nights I spent at their house very much, and realized how, uh, unaccommodating my situation at Pech Laurier has become.

Work.

Harvesting olives is an interesting operation. We laid large nets out beneath the trees and commenced to “comb” the trees with gyrating pitchforks made of carbon fiber and powered with rechargeable batteries. After the nets became too heavy to easily move from tree to tree, we’d empty them into crates. After all of the crates were full, we’d empty the crates into large bins by dumping the olives out of the crates four feet above the bins, and running an air blower to get rid of the leaves that were mixed with the olives. We did this for three days, and I left Wednesday night with 180€ in cash (this number will be important below).

The house at sunset.

I would have worked the rest of the week, but on Wednesday night Joel arrived to visit for a couple days while en route to Prague. I picked him up at the train station in Carcassonne and we grabbed some food before driving back to the estate. Unfortunately, the weather wasn’t great during his short visit. It was windy and cool at the sea, so we spent Thursday afternoon in Narbonne drinking beer, visiting historical sites, and just hanging out.

Joel’s timing couldn’t have been better because I’ve been struggling with a few things lately – namely estate politics and lack of friends. I received my second paycheck Thursday. For one (1) month, I grossed 1350€. After deductions for “food,” electricity, and French taxes, I netted 440€. That’s for 31 days. 440€. That’s not cool. Also, because the estate is isolated in the country and I don’t have regular access to a vehicle, I’m beginning to feel the strain of having no personal connections. It’s nice to talk to people on the phone and online, but spending time with Joel reminded me of how much more fun it is to share experiences with people you care about. While I knew that I wouldn’t be living in the city, I think I underestimated the isolation of my situation, and that has left me considering my options for the next three months I’m scheduled to spend in france. The first is to go to Prague if I think I can find a job. I already have friends in Prague with many connections to other English speakers. It’s beautiful city, and the cost of living is low. The second is to work the wine harvest in New Zealand, where people speak English and I’d have a better chance at actually developing new relationships with the locals. The last option is to stick it out here ‘till March, and re-evaluate at that time.

I don’t want it to sound like I’m complaining too much. Having the chance to live and work in france, while learning the language and making a little bit of money is a wonderful experience. I’ve enjoyed the opportunities I’ve had to see the country and learn about wine in a country steeped in such history. However, I also feel that I’ve been mislead regarding my living situation, and in some instances, flat lied to. Spending time with another family for three days – one that treated me well – showed me that my situation is less than ideal. Objectively, I would feel the same in a similar situation regardless of physical location. Needless to say, I have certainly learned a thing or two about clarifying details beforehand.

The spiral stairs go on forever...

The fortress at Carcassonne.

I’m not sure exactly why, but I always seem to be the last one to learn about what’s happening here at the winery. For example, last Tuesday at about 4pm, my supervisor told me that I didn’t have to work the next day. I figured I should borrow the car and take a trip in honor of All Saints Day, and Carcassonne seemed as good a place as any. The main attraction in Carcassonne is a fortress on a hill – the original city – built sometime beginning during the 7^th century.

Encore.

I don’t know the perimeter of the exterior wall, but I’ll just say that inside, there was a chateau, a cathedral, and everything else you’d find a medieval city. Of course none of the original shops still exist (who needs a blacksmith, anyway?). They’ve been replaced by hotels and souvenir shops selling plastic swords and cafés with €6 beers. But it’s from the outside, from far away, looking up to what remains striking even today, that your imagination runs wild.

Arc de Triomph

Friday I was able to work alone for the afternoon. I know that may seem weird, but because I’ve spent almost no time working alone, it was incredibly relaxing. I was pruning vines in one of our vineyards on a clear afternoon with the Pyrenees to my south… ah, it was nice - you had to be there…

Feel free to visit.

This weekend I headed to Montpellier. Montpellier is a university town with 60,000 students making up about a quarter of the population. Wikipedia said the average age of the town is about 26, and after spending a day walking around, I can’t disagree. But before I was able to walk around, I had to find a way out of the public pay bathrooms. If you haven’t been to Europe, many countries have bathrooms that you must pay to use. You insert coins, the door opens, and when you finish you push the handle to release the automatic door. Well, after using the toilet, I turned around to leave and noticed the handle to open the door was lying, broken, on the floor. I was locked in, and what’s worse, the bathrooms self-clean by spraying water everywhere. I picked up the broken handle and after realizing it was completely worthless, tried to use the car key. This also proved inadequate. I pushed on the door, but still nothing. I thought about staying inside and calling aloud for help, but this idea didn’t seem much good, either, because I don’t know how to say, “Help, I’m stuck in the bathroom. The door handle is broken.” I finally settled on lowering my shoulder and trying to break the door. However, I was beginning to become claustrophobic and I may have used a bit too much force. I ended up on the ground outside of the toilet, and the breaking door was loud enough to distract a group of old men from their bocce ball game 50 yards away. I think we all had a good laugh with that one. Yeah, ha ha.

I spent the rest of the day walking around town visiting the gardens, eating crepes with Nutella and bananas, drinking little beers with big prices (€5 for Budweiser), and climbing the Arc de Triumph (I think most major towns in France have one - insert French military joke here). Aside from getting lost a couple of times driving to and from Montpellier, it was a good trip.