It’s good to feel like you’re a part of something.  I think sometimes being American, we’re taught that being the strongest and fending for oneself – rugged individualism, if you will – is the best way to be.  And I get it.  You can’t live a life entirely devoted to and dependant upon other people.  The journey, by nature, is solitary.  You have to be able to help yourself.  But I think because of this (rather than in spite of it), human beings have evolved to be social beings.  We clump together to improve our situation; we need each other to thrive, rather than just exist.  

Yesterday we went to Nancy for our orientation stage.  It was our first opportunity to officially meet the other people who will be working as assistants in our region.  While many of us have been communicating online, this is the first time we were able to meet face to face.  It went well.  Most of the day was taken up with us sitting in presentations put on by the organization that runs the TAPIF program.  But during breaks and lunch, we got to connect, particularly with people who spoke our languages.  After, a few of us went out for drinks in Nancy. 

I met people from all over, but particularly Americans, Brits and Germans tended to gravitate towards each other.  Maybe it’s a shared Anglo-Germanic heritage, or the fact the Brits and Americans want to speak English, and the Germans don’t mind how loud Americans get (they, of course, speak English, too). 

Nancy, apparently, is pretty large so we took a walk to the main town center to see Place Stanislaus.  Place means central square.  It’s beautiful and clean and very shiny in its aesthetic.  Think gold.  Think ornate.  Think broken pieces of mirrored glass in the landscaping where pebbles might be.  Lovely. 

It’s good to be a part of a group now.  It’s nice to know that there are others going through the same things.  It’s nice to hear them commiserate on their own difficulties and see that some people have it better in some ways, but worse in others.  It’s all imperfect.  Perfectly imperfect.  And we’re all in it together. 

I found the bakery.  You knew that, despite my town being atypically French, there had to be a proper boulangerie somewhere.  And, indeed, I found it.  And, indeed, today I ate entire baguette all by myself.  I mean, I disguised it as being a reasonable part of my meals, but still, when we tally the score it’s baguette:1 me:0.  

You know I loved it.  You know as soon as I caught sight of that little misplaced shop, with its red and black exterior and its big glass windows all full of charm, sitting, rather conspicuously on the side of the city’s main round-about, that I was all in.  It’s like a big beer in an Irish pub.  Or the innocent suggestions of a trip somewhere exotic. I’m a sucker for it.  I know whatever comes on the other end is going to be happy happy.  I know ‘yes’ is probably the answer.  I’m so predictable sometimes. 

So I ventured over today in between my first meetings and waited in line.  The place was bustling and there was a steady stream of clients.  I’m not sure if this was because of my arrival at noon or simply that it’s the only real bakery in town.  Nonetheless, they were doing a swift business and I had to let a gentleman go ahead of me because I couldn’t decide what I wanted. 

Scratch that. 

I wanted everything and couldn’t decide how I could possibly justify buying an entire tart, three types of éclairs, croissants, pains au chocolat, bread and pizzas all at one time.  I thought about it (you know I did) and decided on just the baguette and an éclair.  I even waited to eat the éclair until I got home.  When did I get so socially conscious?  Weird.  Must be a fluke. 

The women working the front were pleasant and charming.  And when I asked them if they were the only bakery in town, the one quipped, “we’re the best in town!”  To which I responded, “Mais bien sur, c’est evident!” –well of course, that’s obvious! 

It is, I think, very important to butter up the bread ladies.  (pun not intended, but I’ll take it).

And boy, was their bread good.  The éclair, too.  I’m pretty sure it was all made in-house.  I could smell the bready yeastiness wafting through the air.  I love that smell.  Thank goodness I finally found it within walking distance.  I’m sure I’ll be back.

Written Sunday, October 02, 2011 (evening)

I went to Luxembourg today.  I didn’t even have to get up early or plan ahead or any of those things that you would think you’d have to do if you were going to another country.  That’s probably because Luxembourg is about 30 minutes away.  Maybe more.  I wasn’t really counting.  I was busy looking at the countryside, watching the cows and looking for the sign for the border. 

Apparently the place to go in Luxembourg is Luxembourg City.  Sorry to tell you we weren’t there, but rather a city on the border called Esch-sur-Alzette.  The Roommate, who’s German, told me that they go there to see concerts.  We went there for cheaper gas. Hmmm.  You do what you gotta do I guess.

Unlike the French, the Luxembourgers (I have no idea if that’s what they’re really called) occasionally will open their stores on Sundays.  It was nice to walk through the pedestrian zone and see that the few open stores were mostly cafes and ice cream shops with families sitting at them.  Roomie and I sat on the terrace of one of the cafes and enjoyed a Bofferding, a common Luxembourg beer. 

Tomorrow is an early morning where Roomie and I will turn on our road warrior faces and make our way almost an hour drive to Nancy for an orientation.  I’ll be interested to go, since it will be the first time we get to meet anyone else in the program (save for the one person I met up with in Paris earlier this week).