The Things I Learned During the Sweetest of Summers in Arles, France

The most important things that I learned didn't end up being what was taught in the classroom, nor was the most special part of my experience the things that I saw; though I must admit, the lavender fields and the treasured ruins left behind by the Romans were more beauty than I should ever think to behold in a lifetime. Arles is a city full of life and art and foods all fit to satisfy the soul. So much beauty can be found there, in both the place and it's people. It's the things that I learned from them that made my experience so grand.
Van Gogh taught me to see every yellow of the spectrum. This man is everywhere in Arles, though he only spent one year of his life there. I could feel him in L'Espace Van Gogh, in the little museum that recounts his life so well, and even in the sunflowers he so carefully painted while residing there.
My host mother taught me how to be strong. As a single mother of two, twin four-year-old girls working multiple jobs and doing all that she can for her daughters, she's one of the strongest people I know.
My host sisters taught me patience. Something about being taught daily by four-year olds makes you quite humble, I would say. And when they don't understand why you sometimes cannot understand them is where the patience bit of it comes in.
My good friend Hayley, also a student in the program, taught me how to love absolutely everyone. She showed kindness to everyone she met and never failed to be there for me and others. The friendship that we created in Arles has continued even over some odd 800 miles apart.
One of our professors taught me what to do when the waitress places a whole fish, eyeballs and all, in front of you at lunch. Three times a week, we ate lunch with faculty and other students, dining at local restaurants. One afternoon at "Le Bistrot Des Artistes," fresh fish was on the menu, and after one look at my horrified face, our kind professor taught me the delicate art of cutting and de-boning the fish, exhibiting how to eat "lentement," "slowly."
Each morning on my way to class, I would see the same man playing the guitar on the side of the road. He taught me contentment. Every morning he would sit idly in the same spot along the main street and fill the morning air with beautiful, simple tunes. Sometimes he would make eye contact, other times his fingers demanded his attention, but always he looked content in his usual place doing something he evidently loved.
The man who was my lavender field tour guide taught me that the things you dream are always possible. As he drove our van of eight through winding hills overlooking patches of lavender and greens below, he told us that he had lived out West for many years working with horses. His dream had always been to be a cowboy.
I traveled to Nice on a free weekend alone, and a group of locals invited me to join them for beach volleyball. One of the little girls kept asking me how to say words in English, ecstatic when she could remember how to say, "how are you?" when I asked her. Though brief, this little girl will forever be in my mind. She showed me her determination to learn, even in a setting of play.
My fellow hostel-goers in Nice taught me confidence--don't be afraid to talk to those you don't know. Usually they're looking for the same thing you are, to make a friend in an unknown place. I met a friend that I still keep in contact with at the hostel, and we spent the day pretending to be art critics in the contemporary art museum and getting lost in the streets of "The Old Town."
Oh, and the people of Arles taught me how to dance. And I mean really dance. They dance with such vitality, such joy and don't mind who's watching. They pulled us in to join their traditional dances, taking our hands and laughing along with us at our attempts.
Then there's what I learned about myself, and that is this: When you're in a foreign place where you don't know anyone, you learn a great deal about yourself. Though you spend much time with fellow students, in class, and with host families, you still have a fair amount of time on your own. You get to explore a place that by the end, you feel a part of. You realize the importance of connections and you learn that taking time to be on your own isn't necessarily a bad thing. You learn how to be patient with yourself (speaking constant French was definitely a test of that for me).
It was hard, I won't say that it wasn't. Oftentimes I wished to leave as the classes were difficult and I sometimes felt alone. It's not until I returned that I fully saw how much my time in Arles impacted me. I am so grateful to Arles for making me a stronger person, for sharing its beauty , and for allowing me to grow more than I ever have.