August 24, 2004
Hello All,
It’s almost three in the morning here, and of course I cannot sleep. It’s also
difficult to type because of the different keyboard and I have yet to discover
how to use apostrophes so my e-mails, for now, will be apostrophe free!!! [Note:
the webmaster corrected this] Wow, what a change from typical messages, huh? =)
I arrived at Charles-de Gaulle without problem. The security getting into the country was nothing. If I were the French government I’d be horrified at how easily we all entered the country. They took a yellow form with our names and addresses, looked at our passport pictures, and waved. You walked through customs, but it was just a long line filing out into the terminal - no one was checking bags or asking questions. Also, it was insanely crowded because three terminals were shut down due to the collapse of another terminal in May. I’m sure a few of you heard about that.
The drive to Romorantin took about two or two and a half hours. We had to drive all the way around the east side of Paris. I got to see a beautiful view of the Eiffel Tower, sitting in an early morning haze as we left the city. The countryside was beautiful, but I never knew how quickly the scenery could change. At first, you may find yourself driving past farms with livestock, and about the time you start to wonder just how many horses pigs, cows, and so forth are there, you see before you a deciduous forest, which, itself, can change just as rapidly from small underbrush to towering trees, to meadows faster than you can decide whether you’ve seen a certain kind of plant before, or not. Next thing you know, it no longer forest, but an expanse of crops, just as much corn and soy beans as you would see in Ohio. But the fields quickly end, there is just one farm, not many before it changes into an evergreen forest where trees, a deep green, with brittle, brown pine needles on the floor, reach up their long branches, stretching for a beam of the brilliant sunlight. Suddenly you find yourself staring at a small lake or river, with paths and benches curving around its banks. It so picturesque that anyone’s imagination begins to work, creating beautiful sceneries, reminding you of the famous painting, Sunday in the Park. But just as fast as it appeared, this dream world transforms again, and you begin the sudden transformations again. Just to complete the beauty of this world, about every thirty kilometers or so, an ancient village pops up, so old, that you can see time etched on its walls. Such history and beauty is enough to impress and humble a middle-class, young, American girl and entice her to appreciate every aspect France has to offer. In today’s world, I believe that every country needs to have pride in something to keep from being overrun by large, powerful nations, or small groups, wanting to make some kind of statement. If it ever comes down to it, I hope France’s pride comes from the love of their beautiful country.
Bisous, Aimée Katrina Shaw