So....as most of you ought to know by now, I’m a wonderful procrastinator. I could probably get an MOF in procrastination, except I doubt it counts as a craft, plus I’m not French.
Since I owe a certain Sim Lin an explanation for what I’ve been up to for the past I-don’t-know-how-many-months, figured I might as well put it here. So! Here goes.
Let’s start off with this: the view from my (not-so-)new room. Moved here single-handedly in february, from one end of Paris to the other. Stairs no longer pose a threat to me. (For those who haven’t been to Paris: the amount of stair-climbing required in the Metro could well be the reason why the French are so slim. Lugging a huge luggage or two certainly helps.)
It fascinates me how God loves to speak through the littlest, most unexpected details. Might not look that obvious in this particular shot, but on certain days it really forms a pillar of cloud. And at night, the smokestacks are lighted up in red - a pillar of fire.
For you heathens out there who have no idea what I’m talking about:
(hey, I’m kidding, don’t take that seriously; just miss that word from the Women in Lit days)
“And the Lord went before them by day in a pillar of a cloud, to lead them the way; and by night in a pillar of fire, to give them light; to go by day and night...”
Coming all this way to France, a country I’ve absolutely no 概念 of, with no idea why here of all places....not too far off from the Israelites. Thrown into the desert, out of their comfort zone (if you consider slavery comforting - they certainly seemed to think so), on a long roadtrip to, literally, God-knows-where.
I know how forgetful I tend to be (as you all certainly do, and love to remind me about), and I can’t express how grateful I am for this. It’s a daily reminder to set my priorities straight, and to count my blessings.
Not to mention it’s a lovely view - there’s a little park right across the street, and in the recent weeks the trees have been bursting into giant balls of blooms. Yes, bursting. Exploding, I would say. One day they’re a bunch of bare branches, and the next morning, you’ve got a cotton-candy stick of flowers out of nowhere. The flowers are all gone now, though (at least across the street), swapped for a coat of green. Matched with the red brick houses, and the clear blue sky.....wow. What a view.
What else....ah, yes. I guess another reason for (attempting to) start blogging again involved putting my English to good use, before it completely degenerates. As you might’ve guessed, it’s been replaced by, not so much French, as....*drumroll*... Mandarin. Yup.
The combination of Taiwanese/PRC schoolmates, searching on Chinese websites for the new apartment and present PRC housemates has significantly increased the amount of Mandarin I’ve been speaking in the past couple months. I’m quite sure I’m speaking it at least 70% of the time.
I’m also quite certain that I’ve spoken more Mandarin in France than I ever have in all my years of Chinese classes in Singapore. I’ve actually caught myself thinking in Mandarin a fair number of times. Vive la France.
And with the recent move to a new church, Mandarin might well hit 80% of the airtime. Possibly more.
Three fun facts about the move: it involves rotten teeth, a terrible dentist (bless her soul; quite sure I cursed at her a fair bit back then) and an invitation to a barbecue.
Essentially, it all started with my bad teeth. Got fed too much fever meds as a kid, which stunted my enamel development, and weak enamel = lots of decays. Had no choice but to call up the dentist after discovering two partially-blackened teeth.
Long story short: the first dentist I visited, in a medical centre, screwed up real bad. Lots of long delays, refused to fix more than one tooth at a time, filling dropped out hardly five minutes after I stepped out from her office, and the next time I went back she tutted and said I’d cracked that tooth. Muttered non-stop while fixing her own mistake, had no patience to work on any other teeth...and that filling dropped out the next evening.
And don’t get me started on the whole mess with signing up for assurance.
(Random note. Something interesting I noticed: In French, “assurance” = insurance. There are French worship songs that refer to Him as our “assurance” - that means, in a way...He’s our insurance too! Best life insurance scheme you could ever sign up for. Beats the CMU hands down - for starters, no need to wait for at least 8 weeks before you get a reply about your application...)
I should’ve just gone with my buddy’s recommendation in the first place, but back then it was at the other end of Paris and I wasn’t that keen on travelling all that way. (Hsiao Yen’s my work partner in school, we worked across/beside each other for the first 6 months, and interned together for a month and a half during the year-end break. Pretty much my best friend here.)
But by the time I’d gotten fed up enough with the first dentist to swear never to return again, I’d almost finished moving to this new place - on the other end of Paris. Which means, a 10-minute bike ride from the dentist’s (the one H.Y. recommended). Went there, got everything fixed.....and got invited to his church the next weekend.
I don’t know how he knew, because I couldn’t recall telling him I was a Christian - according to him, it was on account of a necklace I wore to the first appointment, with a wooden cross pendant (a gift from my last shepherd in Hope). Whatever it is, I swear it was nothing short of a divine arrangement, because by then I’d already been starting to skip services at Hillsong - naughty me. Yes, it’s still excuses, but I’ve never been a fan of big churches - or crowds, in general. The more ‘happening’ something is, the more I shy away.
I’m not a very fun person. ;)
The first two visits didn’t impress me much either. Typical old-fashioned church, hymns, nice people....you get the idea. Wasn’t much of a fan of the French pastor either. Seemed to be the kind who spends most of the sermon reminding people of their sins, and then tacks on a couple of sentences at the end about “oh, but by the way, God saved you lot with His love, so hooray for that. Now let’s go for lunch”.
I don’t mean to be rude or ungrateful by saying this. I really don’t. As much as I didn’t like how the pastor preached, I still appreciate his work. And besides, I don’t think it’s all his fault either - if you’re brought up hearing sermons like that, that’s all you’ll know how to preach.
Anyway, struggled and skipped church for two weeks after that (partly due to project meetings)....and went back - just when it happened to be Easter service. First time I got to talk to people from the Chinese side (it was a combined service). Had discussed this church with my mom before this, and we both agreed that I ought to visit both the Chinese and French services before brushing it off, because who knows, right?
Sure enough, I loved it. Exactly the kind of church family atmosphere I’d hungered for for so long - not exactly like Petra back in Singapore, but as close as you could get.
And just so happened that they were having a barbecue at the dentist’s house that day (he seems to be one of the elders/leaders), and I got invited along. Kind of sealed the deal for me - and no, it wasn’t because of the food. As much as I did enjoy the eating.
That day, my hunger and thirst were truly well-satisfied. Spiritual, mental and physical alike.
Amazed at how things have turned out in the past couple of months here. It’s hardly been a year.
Have long lost count of them blessings.
As foggy as the path ahead is - graduation’s in early June, and beyond that, I’m absolutely clueless as to what’s next - glancing out my window, I’m absolutely assured that my future’s in good hands.
So. There you go. Realised it’s not really many updates per se, just loads of random, insignificant-but-oh-so-significant details. (Life’s all about the details, isn’t it?)
More to come when I get my pictures organised.
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