This is it. I came home, after 24 weeks of American dream, lots of memories, so many things I learned, so many people I'll remember.
Thursday, December 24th.
After a quick and last breakfast with Marion at Native Beans, I go take a walk on Broadway to buy an American-European adapter. First thing I did in New York was buying a European-American one. Nice ending. Marion helps me carry my two suitcases to J-stop at Essex street. The street doesn't look the same already.
Airport mess - I manage to pass security with a coke can and a bottle of water which I had forgotten in my purse (once home, I found a box of matches in a small pocket of my carry-on... they say I don't look like a terrorist). My luggage is full of Christmas presents and my heart is at least as heavy when I drop it in my teenage room. Nothing has changed in Montbrehain, or little. The house is warm and fully decorated for Christmas. Smells good too.
But jetlag and all sorts of thoughts give the late christmas meal a sour taste. Back to my room like a little girl who did not want to wake up from dreamland. Countryside silence is almost painful but well, it's always better after a nap, which I cut short under Rémi's advice.
Tender reunion with my piano on which I play the same pieces again and again, with a few mistakes - rusted fingers?
And then begins the grandparents marathon, the "yes it's a little hard to be back", the presents, the games with the cousins, the cuddle with the littles, all and all the sweet family rituals. Papi does not recognize me ("Nouiiillorc ? TOI ? à Nouiiiillorc ?"); Mamie is thrilled to travel through my pictures; Alain is relieved I have not put on weight; Luis, Lili, Anna and Macha jump on me. The gatherings are sprinkled with fresh American memories and stories that I shared with everyone, listening carefully to the avenues, the jellow shots, Coney island and the 29th floor.
And everybody loves NY.
I almost forgot: happy new year, dear readers!
Thursday, December 24th.
After a quick and last breakfast with Marion at Native Beans, I go take a walk on Broadway to buy an American-European adapter. First thing I did in New York was buying a European-American one. Nice ending. Marion helps me carry my two suitcases to J-stop at Essex street. The street doesn't look the same already.
Airport mess - I manage to pass security with a coke can and a bottle of water which I had forgotten in my purse (once home, I found a box of matches in a small pocket of my carry-on... they say I don't look like a terrorist). My luggage is full of Christmas presents and my heart is at least as heavy when I drop it in my teenage room. Nothing has changed in Montbrehain, or little. The house is warm and fully decorated for Christmas. Smells good too.
But jetlag and all sorts of thoughts give the late christmas meal a sour taste. Back to my room like a little girl who did not want to wake up from dreamland. Countryside silence is almost painful but well, it's always better after a nap, which I cut short under Rémi's advice. Tender reunion with my piano on which I play the same pieces again and again, with a few mistakes - rusted fingers?
And then begins the grandparents marathon, the "yes it's a little hard to be back", the presents, the games with the cousins, the cuddle with the littles, all and all the sweet family rituals. Papi does not recognize me ("Nouiiillorc ? TOI ? à Nouiiiillorc ?"); Mamie is thrilled to travel through my pictures; Alain is relieved I have not put on weight; Luis, Lili, Anna and Macha jump on me. The gatherings are sprinkled with fresh American memories and stories that I shared with everyone, listening carefully to the avenues, the jellow shots, Coney island and the 29th floor.
And everybody loves NY.
I almost forgot: happy new year, dear readers!
0 comments:
Post a Comment