On Cross Cultural Communication

You can hike up to this abandoned castle - something for next time.

On Thursday, Jack and I went hiking with one of the teachers I work with and her partner. We went to the famous Fontaine-de-Vaucluse just outside of L’Isle-sur-la-Sorgue. It was a really lovely day and a great reminder of how communication comes not just in words, but also the power of quiet time in nature.

So nice to get to take couple pics again!

Some of these photos feel like a fairytale.

Jack and I took an early bus to L’Isle and Sarah, the teacher, had promised us homemade waffles. She has one of these really cool cooking robots that are all the rage here in Europe, and had also made cannelés with it.

The landscape here is so different from home at times - so rocky and so dry.

Poppy season here is approaching and is supposed to be gorgeous.

Breakfast was delicious and through it we learned that I would be doing a lot of translating for the day (which I was not mad about at all - it helps me with my French). Sarah also has a love of good tea so we had a nice cuppa before heading off.

It was nice coming back here in April when everything was in bloom. It was gorgeous in January, but to see it with flowers and full trees was something else.

Not sure what these purple flowers are but they're everywhere.

I had been to the Fontaine before with my roommate, but since we are not locals the route we took was literally just walking on the side of a busy road. It was still gorgeous, but going with locals was way better. We started off walking along the Canal de Carpentras (which I’ve walked along in actual Carpentras - it’s quite long) and above an aqueduct that is fairly new but looks like it comes from Roman times. Then we accidentally walked through some private property, but apparently it used to be an open part of the trail. I guess with COVID, more people have been out and about hiking around there, so as we walked through the owner was actually putting up his own barrier.

The downtown area, albeit small, is adorable.

The town of Fontaine-de-Vaucluse is adorable and quaint, even when everything is closed due to confinement. The river Sorgue runs right through it, and is much bigger with a stronger current than when it gets to L’Isle.

Just seeing that hint of violet amidst all the green and blue takes your breath away.

Seeing things in bloom changes everything.

I can just imagine how delightful it is sitting at one of the terraces enjoying a drink and listening to the current. One day I’ll come back. There’s also ruins of a castle nearby that you can hike up to. We did not do that, but it’s always good to leave stuff to the imagination to keep you coming back for more!

There he is, all the way down there. It's rare that it's A. this low and B. this uncrowded.

Much of the hike we spent silent, which was so refreshing. I think that’s partly because when there’s four of you and not everyone understands each other, trying to translate while walking a few meters apart is tricky. But also, there’s something about being with people who don’t feel the need to fill every gap in conversation with words. I definitely have found more people here that prefer it that way. I do feel like in America there’s a tendency to always want to say something or add one’s two cents. It’s nice to just enjoy the sounds of nature (I realize this sounds so cliché - sue me). When we did talk, Sarah and her partner Olivier used a lot of hand gestures. It worked fine. It’s not like when you’re hiking you really need to be talking about complex ideas, just basically what we’re seeing. And I think there are enough cognates in French that it’s not TOO difficult to understand a fair amount.

This sandwich was almost as good as the view.

It was also just nice to walk in nature with Jack. It’s been so long since we’ve been together and was so nice to be seeing things new to both of us and also new to him. I definitely think some of the shine of France has worn off for me - not in a bad way, just because I’ve been here a while. When I see an old stone building or pretty flowers, I’m still struck by its beauty, but I’m used to it. Jack’s been here just over two weeks, so he’s still in the honeymoon phase.

Not sure if these are wildflowers, but they were beautiful.

The fountain itself is not a fountain so much as a source. The water level changes every so often depending on rain and current, and no one knows how deep it goes. Olivier attempted to explain to us the process of diving with some useful hand gestures. But the end of the story was that no one knows much about it.

A delicious smelling shrub - I don't know the name in English and I forget what it's called in French! Oops.

Kind of reminds me of La Jonction in Geneva.

We found a nice spot along the river to picnic, while watching some scientists take samples of the water. We hardly spoke the entire lunch, which is kind of rare in France. But it was just too peaceful to interrupt the sound of the current.