There are so many things I have learned from living in France… I could write a book on it. Maybe I will. But the advice that I have taken the longest time to learn is the one that a wonderful person gave me a few years ago… he always told me reste you. It was his half French and half English way of saying – just stay true to who you are. Honestly, I don’t think he even knew the real depth of it when he told me. I think we’re all learning how to just be ourselves, all the time. Especially in a world where it’s so easy to be someone else, and where we routinely are.
His words kept ringing in my head these last three years, and something happened a few days ago which helped me understand his advice in a different way. I was on the bus to Valbonne from Antibes, but five minutes into the journey we had to stop. A group of people had decided to stop traffic at a busy round about, they stood out in the middle of the road with a sign that I couldn’t read. If they wanted to make an inconvenience, they were successful.
I wasn’t really in any rush, so the whole thing was just an interesting observation for me. People started exiting the bus, rolling their eyes and looking for alternatives or recording the protestors with their phones. Others chose not to give up and instead, they got off the bus and started yelling.
With every minute that we were held back, the yelling grew louder outside. People in the cue behind the bus were getting out of their cars and shouting, shaking their heads and going red in the face. The bus started to become a kettle… the silent tension of those remaining inside almost reached boiling point.
Some of those people evidently needed to go to the hospital for an appointment, including one lady who was using a walking frame and wearing a neck brace. She slowly hobbled off the bus along with an older woman. I remember her distinctly, she was the age of my mother, and as she walked towards the protestors she began pleading angrily in French. I didn’t understand what she was saying, but she eventually got back on, eyes red.
Soon after, the bus started up again and managed to pass through the roundabout and continue the rest of the journey in peace. I decided to ask the man next to me if this was normal in France. He responded: What is France? It is finished. He was kind in his response, but I was a little shocked. He continued: but yes, to answer your question, this happens often.
While the rest of the people on the bus were cooling off, my heart was beating fast with amazement. I realised that living here was a totally different story to living in Australia, especially the sleepy suburb that I’m from. The situation somehow taught me that it’s okay to be yourself. Even if you happen to be angry at that moment in time. It’s okay to express your feelings, to express your anger and to express your protest. Slowly, everyone filtered off to their respective stops as if nothing had happened.
As a foreigner, I feel that the act of protesting seems to have fused itself to the words “French culture.” I saw it that day as something that is accepted or tolerated in France. It’s not pleasant, but expressing your emotions or at least your opinions publicly, can be seen as part of living a whole life. It’s part of being a whole person. I looked around at the people sitting in the bus and thought… I could learn something from them all.
In my life, I somehow learned to be so polite that I often forget about my own needs. I forget myself, and so as a result… I forget to be myself. Being thrown into a culture that thinks so differently has helped me to slowly come to a balance that I am happy with. A balance between thinking of others, but still remaining true to who I am. It’s one of the reasons I love to travel. Sometimes your experiences can shock you, but if you are able to truly observe… then simple things could change your life in a profound way.
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