The sky cleared for a little while yesterday, and I got the chance to walk around and actually see that Montelimar is beautiful. It seems to be surrounded by mountains, with sloping streets looked down upon by a chateau. It reminds me that there is a different side to France that are hidden from many tourists. It’s a little less glamorous, the water is softer, the houses whisper, they do not shout. Yesterday I walked around the chateau, the parks and the streets until the rain started to sprinkle again… so I returned to my hiding spot in the apartment. But still, I opened my bedroom window and leaned into the air.
I am on the second floor, so it overlooks the street below. It’s a quiet street, people do not walk by often. Just the cream coloured walls, stained with the regular flow of rain over many years, and pale blue shutters, with paint falling into the cracks of old panels of wood. There is graffiti here too, blue and black ink. The tiny side paths have gathered moss, spots of grey and green. It’s muted and calm, different from the bright colours near the Mediterranean, but every place wants to express its own message nonetheless.
On one of the walls, I read, demain, c’est loin. Tomorrow is far away. I took notice of that line, because it seemed very poetic and I wanted to know more. I discovered that it’s actually the title of a French rap song, about what life is like in some tough neighbourhoods of Marseille. I read the lyrics and listened to the song. I’ve been to Marseille and although I knew it was rough, this song opened my eyes. It made me realise the power of art and the power of expression.
As someone who has travelled around a lot, I still know very well that I cannot see everything. It would be impossible to walk every street corner, or touch every blade of grass… to live every life or talk to every person that you cross paths with. But art can transport us through the feeling it evokes, and it can make us pay attention to a message people want to say but cannot express. This song revealed to me, reminded me, that no place may be perfect, but every place is human. The same struggles, just different details.
On my walk, I also came across a big mural beside a big square. It’s of a little girl with curly hair and green eyes looking at jars and bags of nougat – something that this city is famous for. It’s beautiful, but it is not more so than the words that I saw marked across the wall of that lonely side street. Both have their place and both have their impact, both are realities and ways of expressing different sides of the same life. It leaves me feeling grateful, that I am sheltered and can sleep well tonight. We cannot always choose our life, it’s true. Why do some people seem to have it easy, and some don’t? Who knows. But our gratitude, it’s always ours to choose.
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