Normandy Weekend
Abroad in Nantes, Days 67, 68, 69, and 70
Friday I got my hair cut! I gave the hairdresser a heads-up that I did not have the vocabulary necessary for a fluent French bang trim, but she was kind and it turns out most haircutting communication is done through gestures anyway.
Got lunch afterwards at a spot on the island called Billie’s, where we all took turns reading the letters we wrote each other at the very start of the semester. Here’s mine:
Some things came true, others didn’t (turns out I’m not going back to NYC, at least not right away). And I am thanking myself! And I am kind to myself, too.
In the afternoon I had my cinema class at the Université, where I sat next to a seat that looked like someone had melted into it. Or spontaneously combusted.
Saturday I was up bright and early to get on a bus to go on a program-sponsored trip. The first stop was Saint-Malo, a city in the north of France known for its castle and beaches. I had already been there once, when my family stayed for a night or two a couple years ago. I remember that even in mid-August the water was way too frigid to swim in. Ate a kouign-amann, looked at the cathedral, did some beach combing, and ate lunch. The only photos I got were of seagulls.
Back on the bus to Mont Saint-Michel, which I had also already been to! But it was fun to revisit. A lot a lot a lot of stairs. The monks that live there must consider the flights of stairs and ramps and steep cut-offs to be their version of flagellation.
Back on the bus AGAIN to Caen, where we had dinner and spent the night. In the morning we drove fifteen minutes to the Mémorial de Caen, a memorial and museum all about WWII. I thought it was really well done! But WWII/army-themed gift shops always make me squeamish. There was also an incredible exhibit on war photography.
Final destination of the trip was Normandy American Cemetery. I left feeling conflicted. It was a very beautiful and peaceful spot. Seeing the graves of unknown soldiers and the walls and walls of names of people whose bodies were never found was sobering. And the sheer amount of tombstones, too. We weren’t allowed to go up and read the names etched on the crosses and stars of David, which was disappointing to me. I would have liked to known the individuals in the sea of white pillars.
I wonder how all those people would feel about their final resting place. About how they died, what they fought for, who sent them to their fates. I wonder what they would think of me, walking around their graves, thinking about them.
Got back to Nantes in time for the municipal election results to start rolling in. Got more details this morning from Jocelyne and Roger and my phone, even if the auto-translation of local news articles is abhorrent. Today I had class and a disappointing dumpling lunch and more class and a really, really good chocolate croissant (fresh out of the oven).
My family is staying in Nantes this week. Getting to call Zoe and say “See you tomorrow!” and really mean it is an awesome feeling.