Entrée à Toulouse
The Adventure Begins
I’ve been in Toulouse - la ville rose - for just under a week now. I’ve spent each day mostly outdoors, enjoying the sunshine, drinking excellent coffee, and doing my best to live as un vrai français. I don’t want these posts to simply contain lists of activities I’ve done, but rather my reflections on the sabbatical year, on living abroad, and on trying new things with an open mind. But, I also know that some folks just want to hear what I’m up to, so I’ll do my best to briefly describe some highlights (and lowlights).
A Near Miss
I hate stressful airport experiences of all kinds. I’m a naturally anxious person, so, it’s easy to imagine the spike in my cortisol when the first leg of my flight left me with just 45 minutes to get to my connecting gate. I asked a flight attendant if I would be able to go directly to the gate without passing through customs, and she assured me that I would make it in time. I asked in French, which may have been a mistake, as EU citizens do indeed have a much easier pathway through customs, which may have explained her optimism. But, travelers without EU passports must first do a passport, fingerprint, and face scan at a kiosk before joining a long line to have their passport inspected by an officer (and you don’t even get a stamp!). With my back-of-the-plane (row 92 out of maybe 100) status, there was simply no way that I was going to make my connecting flight.
Speaking of being anxious, I’m also a people-pleaser, so when it became clear that the customs line was simply taking too long, I had to confront one of my biggest fears: Asking others to inconvenience themselves for my benefit. Luckily, armed with a boarding pass that clearly displayed my level of urgency, I was met with gracious travelers who allowed me to cut the line, securing my spot on the plane to Toulouse just as the doors were being sealed shut. Crisis averted.
Narrow Streets, Wide Open Parks
Toulouse is simply beautiful. It has the feeling I sometimes get in Boston of old melding seamlessly with new. It is distinctly European, with each restaurant, café, and bar with its own terrace and relaxed atmosphere. It is young, diverse, very clean, and situated neatly on the Garonne. Cycling and walking are the two preferred modes of transport, followed by its very impressive metro system. It is also incredibly green. I’ve taken to finding a new park to read in every day, and being approached by dogs that only speak French is a joy I couldn’t possibly put into words (“coucou, toutou” = “hi, puppy” in French). So far, my French has held up reasonably well, with only two people clocking my obvious American-ness and immediately switching to English (a linguistic gut-punch that I know comes from a place of generosity but still stings). All-in-all, this city is “my speed” - walkable, accessible, and pleasant. I thank Jessica for being a wonderfully patient tour guide, Sarah and Martin for treating me to a delicious brunch (and so much good coffee), and Hannah for being my new American friend abroad and sending me a huge list of tourist recommendations that don’t feel too touristy. I love it here.
Getting Out There
The main reflection I want to highlight is more of a feeling than any specific activity I’ve done. I went to a charming bar (English-style, somewhat awkwardly called “The Tower of London”) the other night on my own for a nice pint. Now, I love being alone. I feel totally comfortable in my own skin; I have no problem with going out to a restaurant on my own, seeing a movie alone, or otherwise living life with only myself for company. In fact, I consider this one of my greatest strengths. But, one of the big goals I have for these travels is to meet interesting people and learn their cultures, so when the group of seven locals at the table next to me seemed to be having a great time together, I mustered up my courage and asked to join them. They were beyond gracious, widening their circle to invite me in and interrogating me about life in the United States, what brought me to Toulouse, life as a teacher, and many other subjects.
When I left that interaction some hours later (with several new WhatsApp contacts in hand), I felt a surge of pride. It’s so easy to not do the thing. For me, it’s similarly easy to get in my own head in social situations like this - What if they think I’m creepy? What if I’m interrupting a group of long-separated friends who reserved this one night to reconnect? What if my French faltered, and I couldn’t keep up with the conversation? What if they’re creepy, or mean, or hate Americans? In fact, I almost didn’t do the thing. I sat eavesdropping, my crossword puzzle a shield, for probably 20 minutes before pocketing my phone and using my voice. It may sound silly to derive so much pride from something so small and simple, and this post would likely have a very different tone had they not been so warm and welcoming, but I am so happy to have had that experience so early in this voyage. It only takes one meaningful connection, one moment of warmth (to use one of my favorite French words - chaleur) to banish the anxiety demon and create a lasting memory.
So, do the thing. Be gracious and open when people around you do the thing. From my very recent experience, it’s worth the risk.
Up Next
Next week, I will hike the Pyrenees to view the eclipse with Jessica. And, perhaps a million more things.
Until next time,
Ethan