Once upon a time, just a few years ago, I lived in the South of France, the Riviera, the Cote d'Azur….a paradise, a fantasy land. Or is it? Indeed, it is a very beautiful place, and I did enjoy the experience of living there, but at the same time it was very difficult.
I lived in France for around 1.5 years 1997-99, with some traveling in-between to the Ivory Coast, Italy, Spain, Morocco, Sweden, and back to the US. During a 3-month European trip in 1996, I met someone, a Frenchman, during my travels in France. We kept in contact through the mail (and later email) and visited each other a few times - he eventually became my boyfriend. (With due respect, I'll change his name here to protect his privacy - so let's call him "Pierre!") Well, a little over a year after I met Pierre in France, I decided to move to France to live and travel with him. In the beginning, there were many difficulties - firstly, the language problem. I eventually learned to speak French, but in the beginning it was difficult to understand anything! And me, I was so shy to speak, that I was mute most of the time, saying nothing. I had studied French in school and learned fairly easily to read and write it….but speaking was something else! I know it was silly, but I didn't want to speak unless I could speak correctly and beautifully in French!
After about 10 months, I could speak fairly well, so that took care of that problem, but the major problem to my stay in France was that I couldn't work. You see, I had permission to stay (long term visa), but not a work permit. Sometimes I could get little casual jobs here and there as a film extra, bilingual hostess at conventions (once dressed up as a building, no less! Click here to see a photo of that!) an English tutor and even an internet psychic! My favorite job was something I got through a casting agency - where I dressed up as Catwoman to attend the Festival of Television in Monaco. I even posed for the paparazzi with Prince Albert when he arrived at the Festival. That was a lot of fun. But that was a one-night job. Oh well, there weren't any long-term Catwoman jobs. Believe me, if I could be Catwoman full-time - I'd do it! (Click here to see a photo of me as Catwoman with other characters at the festival.)
There were two times that I almost had 'real' jobs, one a job teaching English at Berlitz, who said they could help me get a work permit (that ended up not happening) and another temporary job for a company in Monaco who thought they could hire me, but it ended up they couldn't, and that was the last time I tried.
Anyway, so I had these little jobs here and there, but for the most part I was unemployed. At first I loved it, I didn't have to get up in the morning anymore - slept everyday until 11am. I could just read, write emails, do yoga, go for a rollerblade along the sea in Cap d'Antibes. A life of luxury in a way….but slowly the boredom set in. And it wasn't just boredom, but it was a feeling of being useless. It drove me mad. The more useless I felt, the more apathetic I became, and doing nothing made me feel more bored and useless - it's a vicious circle. I felt like I existed but had no purpose and didn't care about anything. In the 'madness' of my apathy, I felt the need to do something to alleviate it, to make me feel alive once more….and one of the things I love most of all is to dance. So that's what I did. The kitchen was the only room with enough space to dance and that was where the stereo was too, so I danced in the kitchen….for hours at a time. Playing song after song, of various kinds of music, I danced and spun and whirled away the time in a frenzy….dancing in the kitchen. But I would ask myself….what am I doing with my life?….and the only answer was - I dance in the kitchen. At that point, I seriously started thinking about what I was doing with my life and whether I was happy or not. I knew I had to leave and return to the US. I am happy that I was able to live in France for the time I did, get to know Pierre, and learn to speak French and experience a different culture, but it just did not work out as we had hoped. Dancing in the kitchen was my therapy, to gain the strength to make a major decision to return home.
August 2001 Kristin Piljay
photo of me by Janet Weise