I’m not a very patient person. Never have been. When I moved to France, I knew it would try my patience.
Moving is one thing. Learning to deal with bureaucracy and red tape takes frustration to a new dimension.
It takes patience
My move to a new apartment in Uzès, on top of recovering from my September 18th nightmare, has reminded me how difficult it is to do simple things in my new country… like having WiFi and telephone installed or expecting dependable heating and hot water. You know, the essentials. I’ve been in my new place for two weeks and am still struggling with the above.
When I recently complained in an email to a new friend and blog follower, she reminded me of a post published five years ago. “You sound just as frustrated as when you first landed in Uzès,” she said.
I must say, it’s worth a bit of agony to be here. I’m literally one step off street level. Three steps from my front door into the living area.
While the magnificent view of the Duché is no longer outside my office window, and the Medieval Garden is missing from my bedroom view, I’ve gained a regal courtyard and easy access. The latter is a godsend.
A new perspective
The September 18th nightmare wasn’t supposed to happen for at least five years. Five years from now, I would have said, “It’s time to return to the States.” My whirlwind adventure in France would have ended with a big grand finale.
That’s not how it’s going to end now. I haven’t had my fill of France.
Instead, I look forward to leaving this street-level door to spend more time with French neighbors and friends. After five years of watching the French enjoy their particular lifestyle, I will try to participate.
Yes, I’m going to be out there, and I’m going to speak French!
Stay tuned for next week’s news and another great adventure. A French language school in Aix-en-Provence. I’m so excited, and you’ll be coming along, too!