Lack of time? Not much to say? Depression due to winter? A thousand things to think about, nothing to write ...
Still, I have not written for a month. My parents ask me what I expect, Caroline worries. Yes, after all, what's going on? We want to know, we want to take your life, and nothing more. The page is blank, as the window: second snowstorm in three days. Nothing really sunny, you look through the window, waiting for a possible spring which already is being felt in France by wave. Here it's cold, windy lot, the snow forever. Yes, I begin to understand why leave Quebec at the time of the year "in the South," as they say. South = sun = heat = what we will not know until late May. The winter is long, it looks like he is playing with our nerves. One day the temperature ventured beyond the 0 °, quickly falling back into negative abysmal. I can not wait to get out, have a coffee outside, enjoy warm weather, even if I have a sweater and a coat. No way, for now, to the idler who needs fresh air and a cold sun but insistent.
Maybe this time that does not give me want to tell my life. That may be my time to myself, that keeps me describe in February, passed in the blink of an eye. Yet I have a course, but this one, it will finish me. Drop curtain tomorrow at 16 hours: more than theatrology, more groups vying for more than endless hours in the editing room. Tomorrow, I will blow, and can finally think about other things.
And I think as business. The memory. The special topic. The trip in the west end of the year. The gala dance choreography with two taking all my energy. Return. Return ... There is a date now: 19 June This time, I get up in the morning when I repeating it. June 19 Four months. Or less. Before everything stops. The parenthesis closes. The plane takes off. Back to reality. For one year in Quebec, is this still true?
I look at the other Erasmus students, or elsewhere in the world. All speak only of parties, costume change every week, dating Plataea, they will quickly forget once back in France. J'intériorise more. I feel things, any event, the least exchanged glasses, deep within me. I never knew that so many Quebecois, and even for French. But those I know, they are now friends, loyal, I'll meet him in France. And Quebec, when I return. Because yes, June 19 is not an end in itself. The bracket is reversed, and finally, it is a year in France I want to live, before returning "home" here. Canada, just my big house, now.
So these French and the Quebecois, I see them. Often. Caroline Félicien and when they come to Quebec (and I like being here!). Eleanor, a true friend, who feared the return to France, "the return of a daily" that scares him. We expect the sessions help: I capture to take him to Birmingham, see something else, not to think about his family and habits. But first, it provides, with Aurélie, a trip to Gaspe. A beautiful journey, which makes me dream. Later, later, I tell myself. I have time. I see more and more often Gayanhé and Sasha, two Lyonnais who settle in Quebec for a cut of years. A lovely girl, a boy and colorful. Aboriginal side, Jean-Michel, Marc-Olivier and Sophie, a trio quite successful and promising. Skating, hot chocolate, movies, beer at 12% alcohol. Laughing, detailing what is around us, imitating the accent of Quebec, as do his dreams and actions of our meetings, ever more intimate. There Francis which probably accompany me to New York in April. Surrounded by little, yes, but good company!
Tomorrow night, starting in Montreal, once there, buses to the United States. Direction: Boston. To write, discover, meet, and especially a change of air, out of Quebec, I have not left Cuba since. There will always be the same temperature as a negative. There will be snow, no doubt. But the holidays, the famous spring break, although this is enjoyable and full of new adventures.
It will probably be the opportunity to write a bit more in a few days, too ...
Photos: portrait gallery.
