Immigrant Beginnings

I have no concept of time. Have I been here for two weeks, or three now? Everything is a blur of blue ocean waters, palm trees in the breeze, and feeling content.

The backyard at Richard's parent's house.

My afternoon jogging route.

People stopped at the side of the road to watch the whales go by.

I'm here on a tourist visa (which means legally I can stay in France for 90 days, then I gotta leave the country) until November 18th, because everything happened so last minute and because getting a legitimate French visa is really an art form, very difficult to learn. Also, this "tourist" time was supposed to be me trying on island life to see if it fit me...with an easy out--an already paid ticket home--if it didn't. I know I have like two months to go, but I think by now, you and I both know I'll be moving here at the start of the new year. So that means something else...these three months have morphed into my little head-start to becoming an Immigrant. 

Richard signed me up for driving classes. I don't even know how to describe the horrors of driving here. The cars are tiny and all are manual transmission, something I tried only once-- in one of my nightmares. Driving is dangerous enough for me in an automatic car, why do people need to add a billion new steps to making the car go?!!? My first lesson consisted of me attempting to get it in first gear. This only happened 30% of the time. In addition to learning stick shift... nothing is the same. The signs are all different, the roads are all different; they have theses really confusing roundabouts EVERYWHERE instead of lights and regular roads. And of course, they are all on some insane incline, so when I stall the dumb car out at the entrance to the roundabout, it takes me like 20 minutes to gather enough courage to start up again, knowing I will be rolling backwards into the line of angry cars beeping behind me. Despite the fact that the two way roads are the same size as one of our LANES back at home, AND they constantly curve dangerously around mountains, everyone loves to go like 110 kilometers/hour. I don't know what that means in miles, (It's probably like 40 or something that makes me look dumb) but it feels entirely too fast considering if you crash, you will probably fall off the mountain and die. Then, there's the wildlife. Can someone tell me why there are always chickens in the road? Why aren't they gated in someone's farm? If it's not the chickens, it's feral dogs that jump out of nowhere, sit in front of your car, and start yelling at everyone. There's also bikers and motorcycles cutting you off to get ahead, construction traffic complete with guys guiding you directly into oncoming cars who had no clue you were coming, and don't even get me started on the parking. I haven't even tried to tackle it yet, since I failed my driving test in the States due to parallel parking...the ONLY kind of parking they have here. Driving on this island is like playing a video game...one I am definitely losing. 

This image strikes fear into my heart. 

I still don't know what this stuff means. Also, you can't see it when you're driving because the steering wheel is blocking it all. 

Terrifying Roundabouts. Seems so easy on paper...

This is a two way road...

My face is like this for the entire hour of driving lessons.

Immigrants also need to do a few other basic things, like study the host language, (my French classes start later this month, and as for Creole...well, I'm trying...) find a job, (ok so legally I can't work on a tourist visa, but we are setting things up for work with a private English Academy when I come back in January...) and create a home. (Richard's bachelor pad now has a washing machine, food in the fridge, and an iron!! His mom also sends me home every Sunday with some recipes. I think it's a hint.) On top of that, I found an Immigrant friend~~an American girl named Erin, who married a French guy and moved here with him last October. She knows pretty much everything there is to know about becoming a French girl. Although she has not tackled the driving issue here yet. She's leaving that little obstacle up to me...