August 15, 2010 was the day I left the US with big dreams, 130 pounds of luggage, and a one-way ticket to Charles de Gaulle. The days leading up to the anniversary are always full of reflection and nostalgia for me. I spend a lot of time looking back at what I’ve accomplished — or failed to accomplish — but I also look ahead to what the new year might bring my way. It’s a bit like New Year’s in mid-summer.
Two years ago, on my first anniversary as an expat in France, I recounted the beautiful story of what led me to this country in the first place (“The Patience of a Butterfly“). Last year, as my second anniversary rolled around, I waxed rather philosophical about it all, writing about change as the very essence of life (“Every Beginning is Only a Sequel“). This year, I’m doing something quite a bit different. You see, I have a Facebook tradition every August 15: I start a new photo album into which I will post scores of photos of my life during the upcoming year. A few days ago, in preparation for “Ma vie à Paris: la quatrième année,” I was scrolling through last year’s album, and I was reminded of what a monumental year it’s been: chock full of the usual stresses of expat life, of course, but also charged with exciting developments that promise good things to come. This August 15, then, I’ve decided to share with you a little photographic montage of the last 525,600 minutes of my life as an expat — the mundane and the exciting, the frustrating and the promising, even the delicious and the inebriating … and the sentimental, of course. So … how do you measure a year in the life?
Note: There are ten photo galleries in this article. You can see all the photos without opening individual galleries, but opening them will allow you to view the photos in a larger format. To open a gallery, simply click on one of the photos. You will then be able then scroll through all the photos in that gallery. You will then need to close it to move on the rest of the article and view other galleries. You can close a gallery by clicking on the “x” in the upper left corner of the gallery screen.
I was still a student.
Thankfully, the French government was still onboard with renewing my student visa while I “perfected” my French language skills:
… and then finished my French language studies at a new school. (Your eyes do not deceive you. They didn’t align the printer before printing my diploma. D’oh!)
There’s a grammatical error in this French ad that many Frenchmen wouldn’t even catch. Thank you French language school!
By October, I had gotten good enough in French that I undertook my first translation project: a children’s book that my mother gave as a gift to my mother-in-law.
And I’m not done with school yet! In July, I registered for a licence (the equivalent of a bachelor’s degree) in linguistics at Université Paris 5 — René Descartes.
And I was still banging my head against the wall …
thanks to the French immigration system. Having to show up at the prefecture four times in seven months was no picnic, but I finally ended up with a residency permit good for four months longer than expected. That pushed my next visit to the prefecture a little farther down the calendar. As they say, “every dark cloud …”
it was a big year for LGBT equality in France, and that will have big implications for my life here. Of course, we did our part by demonstrating for equality — not once, but twice:
“Marchons, marchons !”
“Married in the USA to a Frenchman for 2-1/2 years! My visa for family reunification, please!” • “Married in the USA, ‘for worse’ in France … when’s ‘the better’?”
“Marriage is a civil right, not a privilege” • “Did we vote for your marriage?”
This just makes me happy.
And there was music …
The colors of hope
I’m a fan of Monsieur and Madame Inconnu: “Our 45 years of marriage aren’t threatened by anyone!”
Inspired by “Liberty leading the people” by Eugène Delacroix
June 26: Celebrating the “end” of DOMA … “It may not be Jeff de Bruges and Veuve Clicquot, but there will still be no diet tonight!”
You’ve seen the champagne and chocolate …
but there was a lot of other good food this year, too. It wasn’t just French and American cuisine, either, but other cuisines imported from around the world:
steamed vegetarian Vietnamese dumplings from one of my favorite restaurants in Paris: 100% vegetarian Tien Hiang
Hyman Vineyards Southern Sunrise Blush, the rosé from my home state that my French brother-in-law quite surprised described as the best he’d ever tasted
Nothing pink here
Celebrating something with pink wine
Two monacos (beer with grenadine)
A monaco and a panaché (beer with lemonade)
A monaco and a real beer — Thanks for showing me up, Jean!
A row of Irish lagers in Kronenbourg pint glasses at Galway Irish Pub
Russian, Belgian, and French on the Pont des Arts, with love locks in the background
Peter DuBose, my fifth-great-grandfather, was a captain in the South Carolina militia under the command of the “Swamp Fox” General Francis Marion. He was also the grandson of French immigrants to Carolina, Isaac Dubosc and Susanne Dubosc, née Couillandeau.
My great uncle, PFC Marion Stuckey (born Buddy Marion Skinner). He attended The Citadel before being inducted into the Army on June 10, 1943. He served in G Company, 71st Infantry Regiment, 44th Infantry Division. He was killed in action on January 4, 1945 in eastern France (probably in Bas-Rhin based on his regiment’s position at the time). He was 20 years old. According to family history, he studied French at The Citadel and served as an interpreter. He was killed, we believe, by friendly fire when the convoy he was traveling in was mistakenly targeted in an American air attack.
And with old friends from back home …
one of whom I hadn’t seen in decades:
I met Jill in grad school at UVA back in 1995. We saw each again for the first time since 1996 in September 2011 when she and her husband came to Paris. This is from last September’s annual visit.
Piper and I first met back in 1996 at my first job in DC. When we met up here in Paris last October, it had been almost four years since we last saw each other.
Keith and I met first met back in 2008. When came to Paris last November, it had been more than four years since we last saw each other … even though he had been my virtual French professor when I first Michel and needed pointers on how to say sweet things in French.
Amy and I first met in high school back in 1989. We went to the same college, but after that we lost touch for a while. Before we met up in Paris in April, the last time we had seen each other was probably in 1994!
Jean and I met at Capital Pride back in 2009. Then she moved away to Chicago, and I moved to Paris. When we saw each other in June, it had been about four years since we last saw each other. She’s a fellow blogger, too. Check her out at That Makes Me Nervous!
I first met Strother at church back in 2006 or 2007. She ended up leaving for a foreign service assignment soon thereafter. We saw each other next in July as she passed through Paris on her way to a new assignment in Brazzaville.
John and I met at church, too, back in 2008 or so. Before John came through Paris earlier this month, the last time we had seen each other was probably in 2010.
There were several others who didn’t make it into any photos. Maybe next year?
Of course, I made new friends this year, too:
Some of my classmates from Paris 3 celebrating the end of the school year in the most Parisian of fashions
So … how do you measure a year in the life? In daylights, in sunsets, in midnights
In cups of coffee
In inches, in miles, in laughter, in strife. And in love … seasons of love.
What a lovely summary! You have a great way of looking at the little things, and the food photos made me hungry… A year consists of so many moments and memories. I am happy to have shared some of them with you!
Oh, thanks Synne! It was a remarkable year for so many reasons, great and small. I’m happy to have shared some of those moments with you as well. Bisous
J’ai bien aimé toutes tes photos et le résumé de tes 3 premières années en France. Et le 15 Août est férié donc pas de problème pour se souvenir de ton anniversaire. Est-ce que tu parles Français comme un Parisien maintenant ?
J’ai toujours mon accent américain — si charmant ! — et je me trompe très souvent de genre ou parfois de vocabulaire, mais j’ai enfin réussi à laisser tomber le “ne” en négation, ajouter un “quoi” à la fin d’une phrase, et remplacer “je ne sais pas” avec “chehpah.” 🙂
I just love your blog. Since I’ve been back from Paris three weeks ago, you have helped keep my memories alive for all the beauty and freedom Paris is and for all the pictures I though myself too tired to take. Now I find myself checking your blog at the office daily just to make sure you’re doing something wonderful in a wonderful city. Keep the posts coming!!!
Thanks so much! I’m so glad you like the blog — especially this post. Oh the pressure to keep writing! I hope I won’t let you down. I foresee a slight dry spell in August. After all, it IS the month when EVERYONE leaves! Stay tuned, though, because something’s always in the pipeline. You can subscribe to get email updates as well on this page: https://jeparleamericain.com/2011/06/02/about-je-parle-americain/ (The subscription box should be to the right just at below the introduction.)
I love love love the nostalgia. The photos are divine. I mean really divine. If you don’t make it as a writer; a photographer is a definite plan B. You are blessed!
je parle américain 
What a lovely summary! You have a great way of looking at the little things, and the food photos made me hungry… A year consists of so many moments and memories. I am happy to have shared some of them with you!
Oh, thanks Synne! It was a remarkable year for so many reasons, great and small. I’m happy to have shared some of those moments with you as well. Bisous
happy parisversary 🙂
here’s to many more (good and wonderful) adventures!
Thank you, Lil! 🙂
J’ai bien aimé toutes tes photos et le résumé de tes 3 premières années en France. Et le 15 Août est férié donc pas de problème pour se souvenir de ton anniversaire. Est-ce que tu parles Français comme un Parisien maintenant ?
J’ai toujours mon accent américain — si charmant ! — et je me trompe très souvent de genre ou parfois de vocabulaire, mais j’ai enfin réussi à laisser tomber le “ne” en négation, ajouter un “quoi” à la fin d’une phrase, et remplacer “je ne sais pas” avec “chehpah.” 🙂
P.S. — Merci pour tes gentils mots sur les photos. Quelle collection, hein ?
Samuel,
I just love your blog. Since I’ve been back from Paris three weeks ago, you have helped keep my memories alive for all the beauty and freedom Paris is and for all the pictures I though myself too tired to take. Now I find myself checking your blog at the office daily just to make sure you’re doing something wonderful in a wonderful city. Keep the posts coming!!!
Thanks so much! I’m so glad you like the blog — especially this post. Oh the pressure to keep writing! I hope I won’t let you down. I foresee a slight dry spell in August. After all, it IS the month when EVERYONE leaves! Stay tuned, though, because something’s always in the pipeline. You can subscribe to get email updates as well on this page: https://jeparleamericain.com/2011/06/02/about-je-parle-americain/ (The subscription box should be to the right just at below the introduction.)
I love love love the nostalgia. The photos are divine. I mean really divine. If you don’t make it as a writer; a photographer is a definite plan B. You are blessed!
Wow! Thanks Marti! You are so kind. 🙂
Of course, some of these photos aren’t mine. Some of the best are from Michel or our friend, Jean-Michel. You have to look at the © of each one to know. 🙂
I understand