While I am realising how much more I need to practice my spoken French, I seem to be reassured that my comprehension and literacy level so far have allowed me to:
1) E-mail and text native French people in order to inquire about/ move in to accommodation
2) Figure out the tram system (even though a non-French speaker could do that)
3) Get a French SIM card with a tariff that suits me
4) Shop halal (I can read ingredients)
5) Purchase and set up a French printer- including the wireless connection
6) Correct a bus ticket error, since I was sold bus tickets to the wrong airport
Of course my French has failed me as well. When the tram decided to stop and we were instructed to get off at the next stop, I wasn't quite sure what we were expected to do. So, like any foreigner, we copied what everyone else was doing and ended up jumping on the bus that was replacing the tram. When the bus stopped on its journey and gave new instructions I had to go to the find out whether we would have to get off too or could stay on. In all the rush I went to the front of the bus where others were gathered and just asked, 'What's happening?!'. Of course everyone looked at me with a blank face so I tried to translate it, and the girl who chose to respond to me may as well have been talking in Chinese at the speed she was going. Thankfully a guy asked me in English 'where are you going?' and I told him the name of the stop so he confirmed we could stay on the bus. Chaos!
Although it is a new start in some ways, some things will never change. I (accidentally) overslept until the afternoon, and started a domestic day in the flat. Domestic = cooked food that will hopefully last me a week. I will slowly learn how to cook once and eat it for maybe 1.5 weeks if possible. Wish me luck! :)
All this time alone in my flat- my flatmates are away for the holidays- has given me time to settle into my own little routine and to think. Wordsworth's short poem 'We are Seven' came to mind.
A SIMPLE Child, That lightly draws its breath, And feels its life in every limb, What should it know of death? I met a little cottage Girl: She was eight years old, she said; Her hair was thick with many a curl That clustered round her head. She had a rustic, woodland air, And she was wildly clad: 10 Her eyes were fair, and very fair; --Her beauty made me glad. "Sisters and brothers, little Maid, How many may you be?" "How many? Seven in all," she said And wondering looked at me. "And where are they? I pray you tell." She answered, "Seven are we; And two of us at Conway dwell, And two are gone to sea. 20 "Two of us in the church-yard lie, My sister and my brother; And, in the church-yard cottage, I Dwell near them with my mother." "You say that two at Conway dwell, And two are gone to sea, Yet ye are seven!--I pray you tell, Sweet Maid, how this may be." Then did the little Maid reply, "Seven boys and girls are we; 30 Two of us in the church-yard lie, Beneath the church-yard tree." "You run about, my little Maid, Your limbs they are alive; If two are in the church-yard laid, Then ye are only five." "Their graves are green, they may be seen," The little Maid replied, "Twelve steps or more from my mother's door, And they are side by side. 40 "My stockings there I often knit, My kerchief there I hem; And there upon the ground I sit, And sing a song to them. "And often after sunset, Sir, When it is light and fair, I take my little porringer, And eat my supper there. "The first that died was sister Jane; In bed she moaning lay, 50 Till God released her of her pain; And then she went away. "So in the church-yard she was laid; And, when the grass was dry, Together round her grave we played, My brother John and I. "And when the ground was white with snow, And I could run and slide, My brother John was forced to go, And he lies by her side." 60 "How many are you, then," said I, "If they two are in heaven?" Quick was the little Maid's reply, "O Master! we are seven." "But they are dead; those two are dead! Their spirits are in heaven!" 'Twas throwing words away; for still The little Maid would have her will, And said, "Nay, we are seven!" 1798.
When I first read this poem, it made me cry and yet I don't know why. The beauty and the lessons the young girl can teach the adult in this poem are endless, one of which is that there are no boundaries between you and those you hold dear to you. Ultimately, they will be dear regardless of the distance, state or time. Love binds us closer that any rope could for the Prophet (pbuh) reminded us that, "Everyone will be with those whom he loves.". May we all learn to love Him and His Beloved.
Lovely.
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