Being in France in August (with the exception of Paris) can be an
amazingly surreal experience due to the holiday season. Even a relatively big
city such as Nancy (100+ thousand residents, plus university students) turns
into a ghost town. Depending on the visitor’s mood, this can be interpreted as
generously offered quality-time in the city without the harassment of tourists’
flocking or belated and rude service. I personally have always imagined
spending some time by myself in the French gardens with their aesthetic
tranquility yet never could have experienced it, having visited the southern
France and Paris only during the high season. Up until now. I am pretty sure
that for the ones who have to stay in Nancy and work due to one reason or the
other reason, the place can “suck”, and I can even see and empathize with that
mood as well, although I haven’t felt that way. Nancy gives the impression of a
bleak town, only after two sticky hot summer days, the temperature is now back
to 18C/65F and the sun hides its face almost all day.
The motto of the
city is “Non inultus premor” (I'm not touched with impunity, not to be
confused with Edgar Allan Poe’s “Nemo me
impune lacessit” -No one insults me with impunity- as in “the Cask of Amontillado”). It is a reference to
the thistle, the symbol of Lorraine, which is a patriotically symbolic flower
(symbol of defence) and can be often seen on the products of Ecole de Nancy.
In August, it seems
that Nancy is on the defensive, they want to keep it to themselves. Tourists
out, but how about the immigrants? I need to do a better search on the
immigrants’ wave in the past decades. I see placards, signs in Turkish,
especially the bistros and fast food restaurants (as funny and absurd as Kebab de la
Cathedrale). In fact, La Cathedrale was
built in the memory of Cardinal
Eugène Tisserant whose love for the Muslims or Islam could be dubious.
The most striking fact about his long life story for me was that he was fluent in thirteen languages. I wish I had
that since I feel so incompetent for not being able to speak French although
the delightful task of deciphering words is not as desperate thanks to the
other languages I know and of course a dictionary installed in my phone.
The people outside
of La Cathedrale don’t care and would not bother to know this detail about him. Why should
they? They are passers-by.What promises, what solid plans does religion offer
in today’s world, driven by non-stop consumption and constant pursuit of
earning more money? There must have been only six or seven people in this grand place,
which could have emanated a more grandiose if the place wouldn’t have been
announcing God's (sorry, the Catholic Churches') call for the youth in a cheesy
looking app poster. Does the Church need to get closer to the
animated and simplified language of teenagers, or try to market itself in
more mysteriously aestheticized ways? If I am in need to reach out for a
different world or dimension from the one that I am constantly exposed to,
would the poster below be attractive for me? Curious question indeed.
The shopping street
of Nancy couldn’t have gotten more ordinary than what it is due to its lack (or
very limited number) of the local shops and brands. You could be anywhere. But
to be fair to the city, this phenomenon has become true for many cities in
Europe and elsewhere, hence the more passionate and desperate search of the travelers for “the authentic”, mostly in vain. They need to create their own
experience of authenticity, and not without effort, which can culminate in a
mixture of self-deception and avoiding certain neighborhoods in any town or
city.
One thing that is indeed "authentic" for me is the rich wine selection in any supermarket around the
corner such as a small Carrefour. The French take their wine seriously and
consume it so naturally and on a daily basis.
I have not written
an entry for a long time due to two reasons:
1. Time management (I have
allocated most of my time to work on my novel in an isolated spot near the US-Mexican
border) 2. The easy-going, care-free face of California did not match my mood
and the unfortunate events that have been going on in Turkey. The striking
contrast did not seem to trigger my motivation for blog entries but was only
enough for occasional diary entries.Yet I can confess that this
sunny and light-hearted setting helped me to work more efficiently and meet my
deadlines on a timely manner. When you go out for short breaks or day-trips, it
feels good to have people around you who are smiling, chatting, joking back and
forth with strangers in their simple daily interactions (while shopping or in
public transportation), it boosts your mood. It is relieving and invigorating
to know that these people feel safe enough to chat with you and the content of
their conversation is not, cannot be as depressing as the ones you encounter
nowadays in you-know-where. The exceptions would be the Turkish expats (due to
a maintenance of their almost unavoidable feeling of belonging) and some IPJ (Institute of Peace and
Justice at University of San Diego) staff whose whole lives at work deal with
the conflict-ridden countries in the world and the activists who are engaged in
them.
One annoying anecdote during my check-in at Air France counter in LA International
Airport(LAX):
The person checking my luggage and documents got very
concerned when she discovered that I don’t have a return ticket. She insisted
on seeing a proof that I would not be staying in France forever. I just wasn’t
expecting it and simply told her that I am living in Turkey and haven’t
purchased my ticket yet. She then checked with her supervisor who happened to
be this mean looking woman who told me to buy my ticket to Istanbul if I am not
returning to the US. Otherwise, she told, the border officer may not accept me
to the country. Having dealt with such issues before, I was getting panicky but
refused to buy a ticket on the spot. We finally agreed on making a reservation.
The manager told me that it was still a risk and I should be prepared to
purchase a ticket on the spot upon my arrival to Paris. Because I was getting
grumpy and told her this has never happened to me before, she “kindly” reminded
me that she was doing me a favor and I should be thankful to her (for not
buying the high-season super-duper expensive one way ticket to Istanbul from Air France). And what happened
when I arrived in the airport? The officer did not even bother to ask me a
single question or greeted me for that matter. He couldn’t have cared less.
I am still a legal alien and haven’t purchased my return
ticket. Isn’t it time for people to get used to some alternative
arrangements of the professionals who might be leading a life and work-schedule
that is out of the box and that it is possible to travel with one-way tickets?
How come it makes me a potential threat? Are the ones with round-trip tickets
harmless? Really? And how come?
I have deeply felt long time ago that I am an
alien in general and I have learned to be comfortable with it as long I don't have to
negotiate my boundaries and ethics in certain places and situations. I even
accepted that my own country (how possessive it sounds as I am tying the words:
my + own) which I have truly and irrationally felt attached to has become a
place where I feel like an alien at most times, especially in Istanbul and when
I read the papers. The only space offering me an exception is Nature, outdoors, even man-made gardens... Any contact with Nature eases my alienation.
