3 AM - yes, AM meaing the morning!

It is nearly 3 in the morning here in France and I find myself unable to succumb to sleep, so of course the best recourse is to aimlessly read blogs, and hope that sleep calls my name. I was beginning to hear the faint whisper of my name, when the light from the glowing mac illuminated this rather sinewy legged spider crawling past my shoulder, which means it crawled behind me, and then further up the wall. To put it mildly that faint whisper of my name that sleep was uttering is no more, so I took to finishing reading blogs and thought to myself what a perfect opportunity to write a blog posting of my own, so here I am posting a blog at 3 in the morning when really I should be sleeping but alas. I am sure the morning will come all too soon and the birds will herald the rising of the sun in but a few hours.

I reread my earlier post and you must forgive me for my spelling and grammar, a funny thing has happened since being here in France, I've found my English has been left behind. Something mentally shifts when the majority of your audible intake is French. You find yourself thinking in French, even though you can't actually think in French - I can't even string together a sentence, let alone maintain a thought process in the language, yet in the recess of my mind I hear French, and I think I understand it.

My comprehension of the language is growing, it helps to know the context of the conversation and then I can more easily follow, and my retention is growing - I do know words, but what is once again failing me is the simple ability to speak - I can speak neither in French nor in English. I open my mouth and am lost at what I should utter. I stumble over my English words, part because you become accustomed to hearing broken and/or simple English, and therefore think it is necessarily to speak likewise, and secondly because there is this desire to speak French, and in your mind you can hear it fluently, and then viola - nothing!!!

It has been a trip worth more than words that I could type. To be able to see Guillaume in his kingdom, for it truly is his kingdom, has been a delight. To see the love expressed by his family towards him, and in turn towards me because of the love they have for him has been a delight. It has been enlightening to see Guillaume "French" and to begin to grow relationships with his family.

As with most of Europe France, and the Alsace region is rich with history. It pulls at my creativity and imagination. Just earlier today, "MeMe" - Guillaume's grandma on his mother's side shared a story of his grandfather, and how during WW2 he was given the moniker "Man of 5 Uniforms" - he wore five different uniforms during the war: French, German, Russian, English, and then French again under 'de Gaulle.' Alsace has long been a divided region, having at numerous times throughout history belonged to Germany and France. In fact in the hills just beyond Guillaume's family home there is an extensive fort. It was built in the late 1800s by the Germans when at one point Strasbourg (the closest city) was annexed by the Germans. Unfortunately when we visited Strasbourg on Monday (lundi) the musuem was closed, but the plan is to visit tomorrow to discover more of the rich history of the area.

It has been a trip rich with little gems.

I do know that at one point during our journey of "togetherness" we will find ourselves inhabiting this land of the French, and I am sure that when that time comes the floodgates of pen to paper will pour forward.

I have much more to comment on -- things such as riding a bike in Parisan traffic, being able to watch the women's and men's quarter final at the Roland Grasso, the Musee Rodin, cheek kissing...BUT seeing as the clock is set to chime at the fourth hour mark in just 45 minutes I should perhaps force myself to listen to sleep's call, and succumb to the land of dreams.

Bon Nuit