Ups and Downs

So today I woke up feeling down. Nowhere near college dorm second semester depressed, but I was not at my best. Despite that, or perhaps because being crippled by depression last year actually taught me something, I got up, got dressed and went down to the brocante. Getting out of the apartment and leaving my French hosts still asleep at 10:30, I just tried to breathe in the crisp air and enjoy the sights and sounds of markets.

Markets are the ultimate loneliness killer because everyone treats you like you've been best friends for ages. Of course, they're all trying to sell you stuff, but I challenge you to live in a foreign country for three months and not get a little lonely for all those American things we take for granted. Like being able to strike up a random conversation with anyone at any time and being completely sure of what you're saying, and that you'll be able to understand your new acquaintance.

Today though, not even all of my market friends and a tresse chocolat (braided pain chocolat with a glaze) lifted my spirits more than marginally. I dashed down for a conversation with the friendly metro worker to reload my Navigo Pass. The magic smiles of others weren't even working for me. The end of my market cheer up plan came when I heard the strains of a familiar song being played by a very familiar sound. Closing my eyes and inhaling the fall scent I could almost feel the crowd around me turn into my classmates, alumni, and other cheering fans. The bleachers would be cold if we sat, so we stand and huddle for warmth as we cheer on the home team. There was a marching band just like the one back in high school.

I could feel the tears trying to leak free right there in the middle of the market, and I knew it was time to call it. Back in the apartment, I woke a slightly disgruntled host to let me back in before he promptly fell back asleep. Slipping through my temporary room and trying not to wake my temporary roommate, I took a book onto the balcony and read. The Ya-Ya Sisterhood is a great book, one of my new favorites, but it's not exactly a fairy tale to help conquer dark thoughts.

Finally, after a few hours more of moping and pestering my mother via Skype with my need for reassuring words, I gave in to her sage advice: "take a book, go to Starbucks and get a mocha."

In our world, a mocha heals everything. I never really understood how true that was until after snagging a seat in the crowded cafe, 'grande mocha blanc' in hand, I could finally feel those dark clouds lifting. It probably helped that I made something of a friend with a student desperately searching for a place to finish a paper and letting him sit at my table. And the Christmas cups and music and decorations in the background probably had something to do with it. Or maybe it was being able to leave the foreign world I live in and just for the next hour or two, be transported to a familiar place not so far from the world I've known since I was born.