Whom is this written for? As I am leaving a trail of friends behind who speak English, and as I am quite familiar with the English language myself, I want to keep this blog updated to whatever I’m doing, wherever and with whoever that is. Now, I am making a trip trough France for the next three months. Afterwards I want to spend three months in Vienna and Germany.
The reason for making the trip I am making, is quite simple: I’m recently graduated as philosopher and I want to spend some time considering all the choices I can make towards my personal future. A lot of questions come to mind: How can I make a difference? How can I make positive change possible? How can I deepen and elaborate on the philosophical thoughts I acquired during my four years of study? And how can I bring theory and practice together in one single life? Or, how can I render those great theories productive?
Yet this sabbatical isn’t all about my future personal and professional life. I’m not counting on a clear cut answer by the end of my traveling. The goal of my trip is a bit more complicated. As a Dutch-speaking Belgian, I find my everyday life pretty much oriented to an American kind of consumer culture. I speak English fairly well, and it seems that English is taking over the world as a cosmopolitan language, from the financial sector, over commerce and publicity, to entertainment and leisure. People identify themselves more than ever with English-speaking role models.
The main picture of my goal becomes evident: what about the non-Anglo-Saxon countries? Take Europe: what with France and Germany? Will they adapt and learn English, or will they keep on stuttering in their own versions of Pinguish? Let’s not make any hasted assumptions. Colonialism as well as American paternalism isn’t longer tolerated. This post-modern world is in various respects a shattering of the American Dream. And that’s why I’ve come to France. I want to learn French and see this bright new post-modern world appearing from first row. I want to live French, I want to chat French, I want to drink French, I want to buy a Coke French, I want to dream French. That is my goal. For now. Afterwards I want to repeat all this in Austria and Germany. I want to get into the heart of Europe – and with that I mean the beating heart, that Europe where the standards for modernity are challenged each day again. No European dream: I want to know that vibrant Europe that lives, that keeps on living, even when our Anglo-Saxon fellows awake from their unsatisfying dream.
These discussions evolve. Today I’m sitting in the South of France. I’m one week away from home and I’m getting used to this life on the road. Next to me is Cédric sitting, working on a report for school. We’re both surrounded by a lot of mess, but we don’t mind, it’s not ours. The mess is Matthieu’s. It’s his brothel, but, sadly enough, without whores (‘bordel’ is French for mess and brothel). Aix-en-Provence is a lovely city – when the sun shines. But now everything is wet and cold. The city is covered in dark grey clouds. And after rain comes more rain. It’s like the whole city is crying. And Cédric says that it makes him shit (He says: “ça me fait chié,” to be exact).
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