This past week we were in Albertville, France, Kenan’s
birthplace and where we did language school. While getting to live in and
travel around Europe was indeed fun and full of special memories, it was not an
easy time for me. I look back on those months with fondness now as the trying
times have gradually lost their sting as the years have passed. As I walked the
same streets I once did many years before I was struck that I am not the same
person I was when I left.
I came to France a relatively new mom with another on the
way. I could only cook a few things and relied heavily on prepared/prepackaged
items. My knowledge of the world was honestly rather small. I knew some French
from school but I came with a tongue not gifted in languages. I had
preconceived ideas of what life would be like and often found myself on the floor
crying as reality was not what I had
hoped. So in other words, France rocked my world. I’m thankful in some
ways as this actually made the transition to Mali easier, but it was not a
pretty time for me.
Dear, sweet Kenan was the backdrop of hardship for me. The
pregnancy was incredibly painful and any kick from him made me jump out of my
seat. He came late. He had colic, reflux, and a milk allergy. He cried all the
time. Many days he wore an outfit that said, “My mommy loves me” just so I
would remind myself that I did love him. He changed my parenting style. I went
from a hardcore strict schedule person who never held my baby to sleep to one
who slept whenever Kenan would and often held him throughout the night.
I expected there to be prepackaged and canned items in
France. While there are some the selection is nothing like America. There were
so many things I couldn’t cook. From learning to pop popcorn on the stove to
apple crisp to making tortillas, everything was new. I remember “fondly” how a
simple meal of cheese quesadillas would take at least an hour to prepare as I
had to make the dough, let it sit, roll out all my tortillas, then cook them
with cheese. Thankfully I have grown in
this area and the idea of making pies, breads, and main dishes no longer
frighten me. (Also quite thankful as well as I have someone who makes my
tortillas as there really is no way to make that a quick process!)
I am not gifted in languages. Anyone who knows me well knows
I stumble over words in English so speaking French was quite nerve racking to
me. I had to wake up each day and face the fact that I wasn’t good at what I
was set out to do for that day, which was speak French. In fear of not wanting
to make a mistake, I chose to stay quiet which led to less learning in the long
run. I would be fearful of going to the grocery store in fear I wouldn’t
understand what was said to me. Every activity was stressful, whether it was
getting bread, asking for directions, or simply greeting someone on the road.
And because I was in school I felt like every word was judged, every stutter
noted. We were moved into a higher class only 7 days after I had Kenan (not
really a great thing to do). Our teacher was hard and not very generous or sympathetic.
On one of the last days I was in his class I told him that I realized it was
all a façade. He wanted people to be afraid of him and to think he was really
tough. I also said that I never wanted to come back to the school and see him
because I didn’t want him to hear me speak. Honestly, when I left, I had no
plans or desire to return.
Even though we planned to visit Albertville, I had no
intentions to see our old professor. As we walked around town, though, I was
struck by how different I was. I wasn’t afraid. I talked to store clerks. I
ordered food items without trouble. I even went shopping and walked around town
on my own which I don’t think I ever did once while we were there. I wasn’t
afraid. When I saw our professor, I didn’t shrink away. We talked for a while
and I was quite at ease. He is from Togo so his West African manor actually
made me feel even more comfortable.
Growth sometimes happens without much notice, little by
little. Much like one who hasn’t seen a child in a long period can appreciate
the growth more readily than the parent who sees them each day, having returned
to Albertville after 6 years made my growth easy to see. I felt different
walking down those streets and I liked it. Understanding had replaced
uncertainty. Confidence had replaced fear.
Hope had replaced despair.
I am so thankful for the opportunity to have visited
Albertville again and for the physical reminder of the growth that has taken
place over the years. I look forward to all the growth yet to come.
