On my way out of Paris a week ago, I was totally worn down from my initial transition. I had just gotten over my jet lag and was in full "drowning" mode. It was too much for me. I spent half my days depressed and drained and crying. I purposefully didn't take any music or player so that I could focus. I had some serious time with God as I sped along in the TGV. I was wrestling with the humility issue as it pertained to a foreigner in France. When I arrived in France I had some knowledge of what was ahead of me. I knew some language and some cultural things. As those first 9 days ticked away, I realized that I knew even less and that I would have to ask questions to get along. I hate asking questions if I can avoid it, so for me this became a humility issue: Would I be humble enough to really return to 'babyhood' and start learning from the French by asking those questions. I made up my mind that I could do it and I'd just need an attitude adjustment. God helped me adjust it and I fell asleep there in my seat. It was a first time in a week that I really rested.



We had our little trip in the Pais Vasco and then came back into France. God was watching and absolutely encouraged me as we arrived in Bayonne and wanted food and suddenly I became the translator and helper to my 5 friends. We found a cafe and ordered sandwiches...the server was so curtious to me with my french and patiently worked with us to get sandwiches and drinks. I was in my element. Gerald and I went to buy phone cards and a recharge for my phone. I felt a victory finding where I get my recharge card: any Tabac should have one! G found a calling card too and we raced back to the cafe for food.



After enjoying food and fellowship we moved into the street and I caught a little lady and asked her as politely as I knew how, where to find the beach and for directions. She got all animated and we stood in the street and she directed me: "all the way to the end of the road and left, then straight ahead, straight ahead!" I felt so good for having asked, challenged myself and suceeded as understanding her instructions. We drove away and found the beach and walked along the Promenade.



It was a victory to connect us with Jean-Yves too. This young surfer just wouldn't let us get out of a rendez-vous. I even tried thinking we wouldn't have time but it turned into more than expected: a young man and pregnant girlfriend, moving in a week to Tahaiti, studying the Bible with questions that our host, Bernard, could answer.



Now my friends have joined me in my aptment here in Paris. They sleep and are experiencing the exhaustion that comes with such an intense "moving-around" trip. Paris is just a quick stop for them before their return; they have Fri-Sat here to see what is now my home and city.