Thankful.

Happy belated Thanksgiving everyone! I wanted to write this blog yesterday, on the day of giving thanks, but we had a full day and I didn’t a single bit of time to write.  I’m currently sitting in the Orly Airport in France waiting for my flight to Barcelona to meet up with Maria. As the PLNU portion of my trip comes to a close and Thanksgiving resonates with me for one more day, I wanted to take some time to write down the things I am thankful for.

I am thankful for…

Tradition. I never thought of myself as a traditional person, but after experiencing one of the most celebrated US Holidays in another country, I’m quickly reminded of how important tradition really is.  We were treated to a delicious American Thanksgiving feast yesterday, by our hosts at the institute we were staying at, but it just wasn’t the same. There were no days leading up to Thanksgiving to remind us of the holiday.  All stores were open. No one to say Happy Thanksgiving to except each other. And no close family and friends sitting around the table. Like I said, the meal was great and I loved celebrating it with these 20 or so people I’ve come to know over the last 2 weeks, but something was missing. It’s official. I now appreciate tradition so much more than I ever have.

Toilet seat covers. It’s a little thing that doesn’t exist in Europe. I’m a country girl from Reedley, but bare toilets are one thing even this tree climbing, no-shame-in-burping, I-prefer-the-floor-over-a-couch girl just can’t do.

My country. I’m not an “I love A-mur-i-ca” extremist, but yesterday I was more full of pride for my country than I ever have been. On Thanksgiving day, we toured the Normandy Beach US Cemetery. What a somber and moving place. I stood there amongst the headstones and was moved to tears at the thought of the 20,000+ boys, not men, young 18 and 19 year old boys who lost their lives to help another country. It was probably the best way to spend our Thanksgiving away from home.

Warm scarves. It’s helpful here. Enough said.

Grace. There’s a deeper grace I could talk about here that I’m beyond thankful for, but what I’m referring to now is the small bits of grace I’ve received from the lady at the pastry shop, the man at the train station, and all the other locals I’ve interacted with while traveling that have been so kind and gracious as I struggle through the 6-7 phrases I know in their language and awkwardly gesture and point with the panicking hopes of a successful communication transaction.

Singing. Are you ready for this…I can sing! For those of you who know me, you know I never admit I can do anything. It’s embarrassing and I’m so not confident in anything I can do. But I’m learning to be confident. And guess what…I can sing. And sing I did last night. Our PLNU crew had a talent show last night after Thanksgiving dinner and my classmate Drew played guitar while I sung. It was so much fun!

Clip Art. The little images of a man running upstairs and a circle with a line through it have saved my life. Tonight I had to get from CDG airport to Orly…alone. I got a little cocky before today because I’ve not only been able to manage getting around Paris (with a group), but I often lead the way. Being alone is different. So different. I didn’t think it would be, but when I got on the train and started to sweat because I couldn’t understand the lady over the loudspeaker and didn’t get but 4 seconds to scan the directional sign before walking on the to train, I was really wishing I had someone else there with me to either a) confirm they read the sign the same as I did b) enjoy the ride of getting lost together. But alas, I made it here safely and did it without taking a wrong turn. And it’s all thanks to clip art signs. Annndddd….I was even mistaken for a local . A French lady walked up next to me while I was racing to the next train and said something in French about directions. I looked at her and in my broken French said, “Sorry, I don’t speak French, but if you’re looking for the Orly shuttle, it’s this way”. She switched to English and thanked me. That’s exactly what she was looking for. I guess it’s a good thing I hide my “I’m an American tourist who’s completely freaking out about where to go” thoughts well!

My thoughts. I’m not what you would call an open book. I have a category of things that I’m willing to share with others, but the rest is off-limits to most. You probably can’t tell that I’m not an open book, because why would someone who doesn’t want to share much write a travel blog about discovery and deep thoughts. But indeed I am. I control what’s shared on here. There are probably about 3-4 people who have gotten to see what’s in that restricted category. It’s not a personal thing. Actually, it’s somewhat of a bad thing. It’s a bad thing because once the faucet of Lauren is turned on to those 3-4 people, it’s on full blast. They get every detail, every emotion, every everything. I can’t seem to turn it off. And then on my hour and a half train ride to Orly Airport I realized something. I got lost in my own thoughts, I worked through some big questions, I experienced what it was like to have some pretty big things to need to share with one of those 3-4 people, yet not have them around. The only person around was myself. And you know what, it was ok. I need to learn to trust my own instincts and opinions a little more.

This trip. It’s more amazing than words can describe. I am forever grateful for the opportunity, the time off, the financial ability to do this, and for all those who encouraged me to go. 

Thanksgiving dinner away from home. 

The US Cemetery in Normandy

I am so thankful for warm scarves.