February 5, 2007 - page 2



You know she’s thinking, “Aww, he can’t speak French, bless his heart.” While she rattles off a long series of directions, you try very hard just to hold on to the first part; go right. You thank her very much, you go right, and you ask the next person, “Pardon, monsieur….”

Call me crazy, but when people here speak French around me it feels like I’m surrounded by a bunch of advanced language students who are playing a trick on me and at any moment they’re going to laugh, pat me on the back, and start

speaking English.

The wee bit of French I know gets a bit jumbled in my mind with a little bit of Spanish. Two Centre friends of mine, Rob Kinzel, Nate Crimmins, and I spent the first 26 days of January walking Spain’s medieval pilgrimage trail, el Camino de Santiago de Compostela. It took me nearly a month of walking and trying to speak with people to figure out what that means in Spanish and now I’m attempting to make the switch to French. Picture me in Spain: “Perdon senora, donde esta el supermercado?” Again, the bike handlebars look.

Rob, Nate, and I passed through Strasbourg on December 28 on our way to St. Jean Pied-de-Port in the French Pyrenees, where the pilgrimage path begins. We would walk from there to Santiago in northwestern Spain. I was able to be in Strasbourg just one full day before heading off to live nomad-like for over a month. I walked back into Strasbourg from the train station on January 31st with sore knees and a heavy pack. As I approached the city center, I had an overwhelming feeling of returning home. It’s odd to feel that way about a place in which I am a stranger. Though the Rhine valley is not my home, it feels good to sleep in the same bed more than one night in a row. It feels good to be with a patient French family, a fun group of Centre students, and enthusiastic professors. It feels pretty good to be speaking French.        back