You've packed up the last of your things. Is this real? You pinch yourself. Yep. This is it. The moment you've been dreading all month. Last day of french school in the beautiful Cote d'Azure.
You give your roommates one last hug before you all go your separate ways. Emails have been exchanged, and you cross your fingers as your promise to Skype each other once often. You hold hands, teary eyed. You grab your things and make your way to the front office for check out. Is this real? You sign the last of the paperwork, are are directed towards the van to the airport. You step in and w a i t. Wait to leave the place you've called home for the summer. Leave the plethora of memories, and all the people whom youve met; your little family. You look out the window as the van heads out. One last look You tell yourself to take this ALL in. Capture everything you are looking at. The shade of , the intense blue hue of the Mediterranean. I can connect with this town and leave the past behind me, making a web of new experiences, touching every edge of this place. Is this real? The silent hum of the van breaks you from your thoughts. A harsh reality. After what seems like an eternal ride, you arrive to the airport. Now, you're on your own until you meet Dad in Paris. You walk up to the check out counter No turning back "Good afternoon" a lady greets you in perfect French behind the counter No turning back. You hand her your passport. Check in, head for security. You are scanned, and "x-rayed". No turning back. After waiting, your plane finally begins to board. Is this real? You sit in your assigned seat. Your heart is beating. No turning back. Yep.
As the last hot summer months passed by you, slipping through your fingertips, the last week of camp creeps up on you like rain on sunshine.This is it.The end- of summer. You go to the amphitheater, which has a breath taking view of the Mediterranean. A nice place to think. "I have arrived at my peace. At my solitude." You take it all in. You realize your camera is in reach. You take one last picture. "Snap Snap" The view is like a work of art. A beautiful work of art that has been created for us to treasure. "Even the most perfect reproduction of a work of art is lacking in one element: its presence in time and space. its unique existence at the place where it happens to be" (Benjamin 220) You are blessed to be here. 100% blessed. You will never have this moment back. You will never be as young as you are now, here in the midst of the French Riviera, hanging out with your new friends, drowning in the midst of the culture. Submerge yourself in it. Let it consume you. Let it be a part of you FOR E VER. And your friends. Friends from all over the world
People "you wish you could take with you on" on your path in life." Yes, there is facebook, IM, and email... but will those interactions replace this moment here? Breathing this air? You begin to think about the reason why you are here. You were --->pushed<--- to come here. Mom & Dad. From the moment they told you they were planning this adventure you were petrified. Silly you. A lot of moments alone. Lots of time to think. The meaning of life? They know the importance of cultural experiences like this: to T R A V E L. Thank God for the parentals, thank God for this experience, and thank God for AirFrance.
You've already been in the camp for a month. Your french is almost perfect. When you go down to the city, your can interact with the people and buy groceries. You get a r o u n d. One hot summer day after a L O N G dreary class, you and your friends decide to go down to the beach for the day. A wondrous place for you. You back a picnic, iPod Speakers, and you're good to go. You begin to go down the stairs of Doom. The ones your dread with all your heart, because you know you have to come back up on them at the end of the day. You feel the sun. It covers you like an itchy sweater. Perfect day for the beach You finally make it down, and as you cross the street you can see the natural infinity. The ocean becomes your horizon. You all set camp, rub on some sunscreen, and immediately head to the beach. They begin to talk of a cave over by a piece of the mountain that closes of the beach. Lets explore it Doesn't look too far. But can you make it? So many things run through your head: dangerous marine life? drowning? ugh. But, "It's so peaceful. So rhythmic. So frothy. So wondrous. So inviting...If I know that the water is unsafe, why am I so intrigued by it?"
So, you channel your inner Marlow (Heart of Darkness) and lose your fear. You all begin to swim toward the cave. The water is warm, and your swimming abilities have made you more than capable for this. You swim
and swim
and swim and swim You finally reach the rocks. The cave is beautiful. You can see the beach where the your things are. You feel so far away, in a different world. Here, you are invincible. The boys have wrapped shirts around their heads, and the girls have their hair up in big buns. They are all dancing and laughing. You take in the scene, you see them jumping around merrily. At that moment, you are all savages.
You have made it through your first week in the camp. You got to know your roommates and have a tight grip on your class schedule. Your 8 am class drags on....................................and on. "Encore, si vous plait. Je m'appelle..." you hear your professor say faintly. But you aren't paying attention. Oh no. Not with the breathtaking view that surrounds you. You can still feel the vibrations of the culture shock in your skin. Oh shit. Your class was outside today, and you're day dreaming. Gazing towards the gorgeous, never ending Mediterranean to your left. so much beauty. E V E R Y W H E R E. You look at the time. Class is almost over. Freedom. As your professor dismisses class... Merci a tout! you gather your things and head to lunch. You and your friends decide to take the bus to Nice for the day, and do some shopping in the infamous market. After a long day of class and shopping, you head back to camp for curfew. The sun sets behind the mountains. Nighttime welcomes you with a delicious dinner of Croque Monsieur and some music at the disco. Your friend Jess leans in and whispers "Wanna go to a real party?" You sneak away from the "supervised fun", slipping into the dark to the dorms where some of your guy friends stay. You aren't even halfway there and already you are hit in the face with a wall of strong cologne. Someone is trying too hard You muster the courage to go into Antoine's room. The whole gang is here. Everyone from class, even one of your roommates.
"Nothing about this room is right, but then again, everything about this room is right"-(whatisatextstudent) You notice Jess has a red cup in her hand Howd that get there? You see everyone has one. The new accessory tonight? S O cups. L O You're curious. You walk over to the kitchen table, and you are greeted with bottles of liquid you had never really hung out with before. Everyone seems to be friends with these bottles. They are the life of the party, along with their friends, Coke and Sprite.. and their distant cousin, Cranberry Juice. "What will it be, sweetie?". The guy behind the counter is the headmaster of the night. Everyone lines up to have some of his liquid courage. You recognize him from class. "I'll have a little of the vodka with Coke" you say timidly. He grabs the bottle and you see he knows how to work it. Like it was meant to be in his hand. You drink is ready. On the table. Ready. Set. Go You take a sip. Then a gulp. Woa.
You have never tasted anything like it. The taste is strong. It burns your throat like nothing else.
Before you know it, you have had three of those delicious cups. You begin to feel the warmth in your face. Your vision is giving out. No, you don't have glasses, but you sure as hell wish you did. Backwards. Spinning. Spinning. gninnipS. gninnipS. gninnipS....
The room is unsteady. Like water. F l o w i n g. You notice everything is humorous, you laugh and laugh at at every other word spoken to you. You cant Walk. You
are
Stumbling. Everywhere. No turning back now. You are too far gone.
You walk up and up and up the dwindling stairs. Heavy breaths. Damn it. How Much Longer? Last step in sight. You see traces of your new home for the summer, Cap d' ail. You remember your father showing you a picture of a map before you boarded on the plane. Promising not to get lost, you memorized its location: Squeezed in between Nice and Monaco. It seemed amiss the mountains and the Mediterranean Sea. Welcome to France. As you walk in, multiple languages dance in the air like fairies. French, German, Spanish, Italian... You can barely catch them all. You navigate through the crowds of students to the check in center. You see there are students here from all over Europe. Many different faces approach you. Excuse moi, Perdon, 'Scusi. Check in is done. You find your dorm and drop your bags off. Map in hand, you head for adventure. You begin to explore the "campus". Main attractions on your tour include: the disco, the courtyard, the classrooms, and the cafeteria. As you walk by your last destination, you stop. You are hit with a wall of breath taking aroma. You can smell the cooks preparing your dinner. Scents of oregano, basil, and other spices tease your nose. Pasta? With a really amazing sauce... maybe? Suddenly
You see a trail leading back down to where you first arrived. You decide to take the risk, and go to the uncharted land. After what seems like an e t e r n i t y coming down nothing but shrubbery and dirt, you reach the most majestic scenery you have ever encountered in your life. The water gleams like a new crystal. The mountains around it sing to the water, almost swaying it back and forth. Cradling it.
You close your eyes and breathe in the sea air. You can feel the wind softly wrapping itself around your skin. You listen to the waves roar as they crash into the sandy shore. You swear nothing you have ever seen has been this beautiful.
You give your roommates one last hug before you all go your separate ways. Emails have been exchanged, and you cross your fingers as your promise to Skype each other once often. You hold hands, teary eyed. 
