Autumn in Paris, London, Cairo and Michigan!

 
There is nothing stranger than feeling like a foreigner in your own country—like not knowing how much a domestic stamp costs, or having your son ask you what a “dime” and “nickel” are worth the day before he starts school in America. At times, we truly feel like “expatriates” here in the U.S. after twenty years of living abroad, or rather like ET, amazed and curious about our new surroundings, but likely to get into trouble if left alone for too long  during our “repatriation.”

 So much is different—I find myself hypnotized in the cereal aisles of the grocery stores that are so plentiful after Cairo; Shea and I feel positively geriatric walking in the parks as the jogging dog owners fly past us each morning, and at school functions, I have only recently stopped looking for the standard wine bar.  

         Though I moved here in late August, my life in Michigan did not really begin until a few weeks ago when I returned from a two-week trip to London, Paris and Cairo—call it my “Victory Tour,” if you will. I only wish I had taken the train to Brussels for a “moules/frites” lunch just so I could say I had visited all my previous overseas homes in one go.

        The Victory Tour was, however, amazing. Just what I needed in terms of closure after such an abrupt move, even though I do not anticipate my life abroad is in anyway over, just on hold temporarily (we still have our house in London, last I checked). And a big part of that Victory Tour was sending my eldest off to college—never was a girl more deserving of an immediate future that does not involve moving for a few years than Harriet.

Leaving Harriet in front of Ramsey Hall, her run-down but perfectly situated dorm at University College London (right off Charlotte Street near Fitzroy Square), was anything but sad (though she looks a bit stunned in this photo as I was about to leave and she knew no one there.) I hardly felt I was “abandoning” her in a city I know she loves even more than her summer camp, surrounded by a flurry of our best female (and male) friends all ready to be her second and third mothers if she needs them. To say Harriet is thriving would be an understatement. She has already found a close group of similarly raised global nomads, and could not have chosen a more perfect place to study. And the fact that she is learning Arabic in London makes us feel like we have left her as a sort of place holder for the rest of us in two continents. Not only will she be a regular dinner guest at our friend’s homes in England, she is learning a language none of us ever mastered in Cairo so when we next visit Egypt she will be able to finally tell us what all those mystery billboards say.

        The weekend before Harriet started college we headed to Paris on the Eurostar to attend the wedding of our dear friends, Anne and Bob. Anne’s daughter, Caitlin, is a good friend of Harriet’s and as Anne is also my editor at the International Herald Tribune, we both had fun meeting all their friends.  They were married in ten minutes at the Town Hall that morning, as one does in Paris, all the brides and grooms lined up like race horses for a very specifically timed event, but the reception that night was anything but rushed. It was held in a small historic home located in the Bois de Bologne with a sweeping back terrace onto a manicured lawn. It felt like a movie set with a living room fire roaring, glasses of champagne flowing, and a meal in the dining room I can still taste—huge chunks of fois gras with chutney and amazing lobster ravioli, all washed down with wines from a the vineyard owned by the family proprietors of the house. Their wedding cake was an amazing rainbow tower of those little macaroon cookies, famous from La Duree.

        The rest of the weekend, Harriet and I walked around our old neighborhood in the 7^th arrondissement, arm-in-arm (French style), visiting her old childhood haunts in the Champs de Mars (the playground she loved, the carousel, the puppet theater), stopping to meet up with friends in cafes and bistros, and generally taking in the beauty of Paris—a memorable mother/daughter weekend before parting from one another for the first time in a very long time—sniff, sniff.

         I then headed to Cairo to say a huge, “Hello,” to Daniel, whom I had not seen in a couple of months, and a heartfelt, “Goodbye” to Egypt. My dog walking friends threw a lovely lunch for me, Daniel and I had a final party in our amazing flat overlooking the Nile, we took a last swim together at the Gezira Club, bobbing in the water with the old Egyptian men, but mostly just walked my favorite streets, as I tried to memorize every detail possible about my brief life there. We then spent three amazing days in Alexandria walking on the Corniche overlooking the Mediterranean, relaxing in rooftop bars, and taking in the sights….mostly the new library and the old turn-of-the-century cafes.

 Probably the hardest part of leaving was saying, “so long” to Samir, our lovely doorman, and Ahab, my great young translator and driver. I know I will see them again one day, but it won’t be the same, of course, as seeing them daily, though Ahab is now my Facebook friend.

        Upon my return, I was immediately in awe of the magnificence of Michigan’s autumn. I am now known for stopping the car suddenly on the many country roads around my parent’s house just to observe a certain neon red tree, burnt orange bush, or canopy of color overhead. This irritates the drivers behind me, as well as the children, but I am unable to restrain myself. In London, autumn was something you might miss if you blinked. Some years were better than others, like wine, but if it was a particularly rainy season it would be over quite quickly. One day the leaves would suddenly turn from a dull green to a soggy beige and tumble off the trees like wet sponges. Kicking piles of crunchy leaves was never a big activity in England, where they would stick to your shoes like wet toilet paper, but here it could be an Olympic sport, with huge rust-colored piles everywhere, in my cultural confusion they look like mini-pyramids.

I must admit, I am attempting to make up for my children’s lost American childhood by forcing Florence and Charles to pose in pumpkin patches and at cider mills like toddlers—rather embarrassing for them but they are politely complying! The good news is, they are more than willing to dress up this Halloween, a whole new holiday for us since we last experienced it as the entire nation now turns into a spooky theme park (we are off to a friend’s party Sunday night in a quintessential “trick or treating” neighborhood with loads of decorated houses.) I can only imagine on Thanksgiving how much I will have to resist the urge to dress the kids up in pilgrim outfits.

The best news of all is that Daniel arrived here a few days ago. Now, with the exception of Harriet, we are all together again, though briefly as he is off to Africa for a consulting project in two weeks. Still, we are actually enjoying living with my folks during this transition period. It feels very Victorian, all of us eating together every night (my older brother, Greg, is living here at the moment too), trading generational stories (loved the conversation between my Dad and Charles about going to their first dance). So for the moment, all is well. The kids love school, Daniel and I both have some work! and just when I think the leaves can’t get any prettier, they deepen another shade. 

 

 

Comments

[julie]

I may be your biggest fan! I love to read about your life, even (or better yet?) in Michigan,love Julie

[atsushi kimura]

Hellow!
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Please link my site to your site.
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[Luciana]

What a nice way of describing your way back to MI. We are living in Paris for a year, and I can tell summer was great with all the parks and green areas. Now in November we have runned out of ideas about what to do with our 3 year old daughter. I just cannot find more places to take her when she is not in school. We have visited pretty much all the places you can find suggested online. Looking for good ideas in Paris or even outside Paris or abroad with our daughter.

[Jennifer Conlin]

Hello Luciana, I am so sorry to reply so late to this question. My move has meant I have barely had time to work on or read comments on my blog! Read this article I did for the NYT on what to do with children in Paris...hope it gives you lots of ideas! Am so jealous you are still living there!
Best,
Jennifer Conlin
http://travel2.nytimes.com/2006/02/19/travel/19kids.html