Dear Readers,
It is with great dignity that I inform you of my bump in the road. It started as a mountain that I couldn't see over, turned into a molehill, and is now just a tiny bump that I can see myself getting over quickly but as my faithful blog readers, I have decided to share the truth with you all, something I have withheld before.
Really, I have not been lying but, perhaps, presenting myself in a way that gave the impression I had everything together and was sailing through France as if my exchange was a bowl of rainbows and Nutella. While all the wonderful, amazing things I write about have happened and are happening and will keep happening and are every bit as amazing as I have made them out to be those of you who look closely will notice significant gaps in the silver lining and that is because I have been omitting a rather large piece of my experience: the struggles. And who lives a life without struggles, anyways? And if you do, feel free to send me a message and we can talk but otherwise, I'm confident in saying everyone bares their conflicts and bends with the pressure. So the only real debate here is why I was so set on pretending I soared through every day untouched; a fairy tale fantasy with no dilemmas. It must have been tedious to read, am I right? Well I certainly apologize and will make it strait now: I have had, am having, will have struggles that shook/shaking/will shake me like title waves and I am taking this blog entry to speak of them because an exchange with no moments that bring you to your knees is no exchange at all, okay? So here is what some people know and some people don't: I am going home March 20th. It doesn't matter why because it was a mixed decision of mine and my host family and my Rotary club and while I didn't decide to come home, I can't say I'm getting sent home either. It doesn't matter and "home" isn't the right word to use either because "home" doesn't exist for me anymore, anywhere. And so I'm going home two months early. But I won't think of it like that. Instead, I will say, "Wow, Maya. You stayed in France for seven months. You didn't know a single person and you didn't speak a single word and you'd never been away from home before and at the airport, you called your mommy and begged her buy a ticket for you to come back NOW and you still stayed seven months and you learned the language and you tried incredibly hard and you're amazing."
So that's 'tooting my own horn' or bragging or being stuck up or whatever you want to call it and I don't care. Because I am extremely proud of myself and no one will take that away from me. I'm a different person; I've said it before and I will say it again. I can now sew up a hole in my jeans, hand wash underwear,  make dinner, take a train by myself to a place I've never been and than catch the bus, read a map,  keep myself entertained in a four hour study session, cuss in two different languages, fall asleep on the floor... or anywhere, use a credit card, lift weights, run two miles without stopping, cut hair, distinguish between 'good' wine and 'bad' wine, go a week without wearing makeup, use a mac computer... And those are just the minuscule things. Some of the biggest things I prefer not to share on my blog but I hope you will be able to spot the differences when you see me, I really do. And this isn't my last blog entry because I'm not going home yet and even when I do get home, I'll still keep writing. Because if exchange has taught me anything, it's that your journey doesn't start when you get on a plane, it starts when you start seeing people as people and not as 'That Fat Person' 'That Asian' 'That Guy Who Talks Too Loud'. It starts when someone tells you something and you can't tell if it was in English or French because the two are both engraved so well into your brain and when someone asks you where you're from, you have no clue what to tell them so you just stare at them like a dying fish and wait for them to turn around and walk away. My exchange has been pivotal and emotional and it has been the hardest, most challenging, most amazing thing I have ever done and I am so grateful I didn't stay "home" where it is safe and quiet and you don't get hurt and you don't grow. And I'm leaving now. I'm going "home", except it isn't home because that doesn't exist anymore.
Love Always,
Maya


Stuff
I want to share with you my most amazing experience in France to date. It happened only yesterday when I officially told my best friend, Grace, that I was going back to the US two months early. Remember that wonderful English class I told you about where the amazing teacher helps me and Grace with our French? Well, we were in that class and the teacher told us she wouldn't be here next week so no class (no substitutes in France) and that is when I realized it would be my last ever English class. I couldn't believe it. The best class I had ever been in that taught me so much about French, life, and myself was over. The bell rang to dismiss us but no one had gotten up yet so I raised my hand and told everyone it was my last class. Only Grace had known I was going home so soon and everyone looked shocked and like they had been punched in the stomach, etc. The teacher said, 'Why didn't you tell us earlier?!' and I was trying to say because I hadn't known this was the last class but all that came out were tears that flowed uncontrollably and didn't stop so I had to put my head down on the table because crying in front of a class of 30 people isn't really my forte. And people don't really cry in front of each other here anyways. Everyone came and stood around me and when I finally gathered the strength to look up, I saw that Grace was crying too. And my wonderful teacher had tears in her eyes. What an international sight we were to behold.  People started giving me their phone numbers and emails and some left to go to class but many stayed and demanded the ever omniscient why. Why was I leaving them so soon, why couldn't this be stopped, why didn't I just stay? I was at a loss for words in English and in French so I just told them what a joy it was to learn French with them while they learned English and I told them they spoke very well and I was so happy to have them in my life. They told me my French had flourished. Than two girls hugged me which almost brought on more tears because the French never do something like hug. I don't know how to explain it. Maybe you had to be there. How do I make you feel the majesticness of being in my shoes just then? I had started that class not able to ask someone how they were and I finished my time by writing essays on novels and films. And yet, I still could not find the words, in French or in English to explain this to you or to them, how much everything means to me. I'm just really happy and sad at the same time and I'm still trying to figure out how this could be. And the sadness is a hopeful kind of sadness, you know?

This one's for you