I’ve been here for over a month now. I still feel like a guest in France’s home, but Aix-en-Provence is definitely settling into my bones. I require real French cheese at least once a day. I’m sad when the outdoor markets aren’t open. I’ve also developed an addiction to madelines, some sort of God-sent muffin-cookie concoction that lights up my life for only 3 euro. That said, I have also discovered a restaurant that sells amazing baked potatoes, and I’ve never felt more American than when I’m eating one for lunch, nor have I ever felt more like a Floridian when I’ve had to walk in this week’s 50 degree weather and shiver because I certainly did not bring the proper clothes for winter. It’s only October, people.
I have noticed a profound void in my chest for things that are most certainly American: apple cider, apple pie, Starbucks frappes (Aix has a Starbucks technically but it is NOT a Starbucks; what kind of Starbucks sells beer but not frappecinos?), Dunkin Donuts, and all things Halloween (although I’m diligent in my efforts to make Halloween things happen in my life, regardless of whatever anti-pagan country I’m in). I’m okay with these sacrifices, but they still weigh on me every now and then.
I’m happy to know that everyone I know is safe after the stresses of Hurricane Matthew. It was certainly a jarring experience for me to be so far from my family when such a crazy thing was happening, but now that things have settled down, I’m glad I can eat my baked potatoes in peace.