Ignorance is bliss

That's an expression I'm not really sure I agree with, a lot of the time, but sometimes I can't think of a better way to put it. Ignorance usually has such negative connotations, yet the simple act of not knowing (which I've always regarded in a negative manner) is starting to show its benefits.


To be honest, I spend a lot of my weekdays doing (what I feel like is) absolutely nothing. I arrive at IES, make myself some lunch, go to class if I have it, and lounge around and study if I don't. Today, I headed to the train station while my friends were in class, laid on the grass at Cours Cambronne in the 75-degree weather, and spent a good hour just watching people walk by and getting lost in my own thoughts, then headed to a corner bakery with Lauren for an après-midi pastry (gâteau basque, which is like custard quiche, if you can imagine) to eat on the steps of Théatre Graslin before wandering around and doing a little shoe shopping with friends. Here, I feel like it takes me four hours to accomplish an hour's worth of tasks, but that's life here. That's just the way it is.


Before arriving to France, during my two-week break between summer school and moving to another country, I focused more on preparing my belongings than preparing myself; I figured that I couldn't "cram" to get ready for a change like this, I just had to let it happen. While the thought terrified me-- would that be like not studying for a final? Would that just be stupid? Would I regret it?-- I did it nonetheless, because it was a sort of leap of faith. 


Ignorance is a double-edged sword, a fact that I have been almost hyper aware of after arriving. As a foreigner, it has caused embarrassment, surprise, discomfort, and plenty of awkward moments. In a nutshell, it's created one hell of a learning curve.


However, I've learned that especially while in a foreign country, my own ignorance is something I cannot hide. I'm trying to embrace it, to come to terms with the fact that, by nature of my own nationality, I just don't fit in; I don't know the fashion styles, I don't know the cultural boundaries, I don't know the ins and outs of daily life. But because of this, because I'm not preoccupied with keeping up with myself, society, or whoever I'm trying to be, I have no limits. I'm doing things that I want to do, whether that means I sit in the park for an hour or spend 20 E on food.  I think, but I don't judge. I'm taking everything at face-value. By whose standards would I judge things, anyway? By my own? What are those standards, and how are they different? What's universal, and where does the cultural boundary begin and end? I'm simultaneously painfully self-aware and inexplicably at peace, and it's a weird balance to be living.


Today, we had a delicious dinner, my first non-pasta repeat dinner since I've arrived, and right now, it is the epitome of fall comfort food. The first night we had it, accompanied by an apple compote, I was in love with the way it made the whole house smell. I had no idea what it was because I couldn't remember the name and didn't know what it meant. While it seemed like meat and smelled like spice but tasted like neither, I loved the way it made me feel: comfortable, cozy, welcomed. Today, we had it again, with a chestnut purée from the nuts my family gathered over the weekend. Tonight, I remembered the name, and I looked it up. And you know what I'm in love with? Blood sausage. Go figure.


As tomorrow marks a month I've been in France, I can say that I'm getting there. I feel as though I'm always saying this, but it's always true. I learned today that even if you're waiting at the bus stop, have left the little bus shelter, are standing on the edge of the road, and have your bus card in your hand, the bus will not stop unless it is officially "hailed." Good thing I didn't have class today! (As my friends know, this is probably my fourth or fifth "I missed the bus" story. Public transportation and I... we just don't get along too well.) Today, I also bought a pair of shoes, my first clothing purchase with the purpose of fitting in. Things are moving along. Things are normal. I got to spend dinner listening to four kids try to name all the days of the week in English, and I couldn't be happier.


As for this "ignorance", this lack of knowing my surroundings, it's interesting. I've done things well outside my comfort zone. I've let myself buy train tickets, buy shoes, and go to church without knowing any useful vocabulary (i.e. "shoe size" or "to try on"). I never feel comfortable while I'm doing it, and in fact I avoid the challenge all too often, but with each obstacle, I feel a little better, a little more accomplished, a little surprised at myself. 


I like blood sausage, foie gras, and Roquefort. Who knew?