See the world … if only through a novel

by

Bonjour et bonsoir, mes amis!! I know it’s been awhile since I’ve shared my French adventures, but all is well on this side of the Atlantic. I promise to update you shortly on my thoughts about spending my first full summer in France—and my ongoing adjustments to expat life.

But in the meantime, UrbanTravelGirl is sharing this space with author and playwright Melda Beaty, a super-talented, Chicago-based sister (AND one of my proud Delta Sigma Theta sorority sisters!) whose debut novel, LIME, takes us on a trip around the world through the pages of a book (and an eBook for you Kindle carriers). My fellow word-lovers know what a delicious adventure that can be … so enjoy this guest post from Melda and check out LIME for yourself!

Melda Beaty, author of the newly released novel, LIME

For 40 years, my life revolved around a few states in the United States. My origins began in Mississippi but quickly transplanted me to Chicago, Illinois, when I was a few weeks old.  Growing up, I went on family vacations in different U.S. states, but traveled more during my college and adult years. However, it wasn’t until my 40th birthday that I got to take a trip that most only dream about. Me, a little black girl from the West Side of Chicago, boarded a plane headed to London and while there boarded another plane to Amsterdam. Despite the cool and gray 60-degree temperatures in the month of August, I thanked God every morning for allowing me to experience life 3,900 miles away from my comfort zone.

I’m not sure what gave birth to my fascination with other cultures. I’ve been a Travel Channel junkie for as long as I can remember. While others watch “Bizarre Foods with Andrew Zimmern” and Anthony Bourdain’s “No Reservations” for the food, I fixate on the culture that produces the food. I am drawn to the language, customs, beliefs … the overall way of life of people living happily overseas.

LIME takes readers on an often-glamorous tour around the world.

This “draw” found its way into my brand-new novel, LIME (CreateSpace Independent Publishing Platform, $14.95). The heroine, Lime Prince, is the best mixture of different cultures and places that my imagination could conceive. Her Ethiopian/Jamaican genes accented with lime-green eyes afford her a life as an international supermodel. Like mine, Lime’s beginnings were in Chicago, Illinois. When her Ethiopian mother takes her back to Brixton—the wonderfully vibrant and heavily African-Caribbean neighborhood in London—where the Amde family resides, Lime gets to experience this world-class city with its double-decker buses, Buckingham Palace, old CoolTan building, St. Matthew Westminster, and more.  From there, she finds herself in Johannesburg, South Africa or E’goli (a “place of gold,” as the city is called by the locals) with its cornucopia of black faces, diverse languages, wildlife, and vitality.

With runway shows and fashion photo shoots in Paris, Milan, and Rio de Janeiro, Brazil, LIME takes you, the reader, along for these around-the-world adventures. However, in the midst of her fairy-tale life, she is forced to confront the realities of violence against women. This juxtaposition of beauty and violence, and glamour with pain eventually takes Lime to the Democratic Republic of Congo.

Like Lime, I’m not done seeing the world. If you follow her, I promise you will see it, too, if only in a novel … for now.

Melda Beaty is an author, playwright, English lecturer, and educational consultant. She currently teaches English at South University. You can read more about LIME at MeldaCreates.com, Amazon.com, and now on Kindle.

‘This too shall pass’ – Keeping French expat life in perspective

by

There are many fabulous things about Paris, but sometimes you just need a reminder of good ol' American stuff. Here's the first Chipotle location to open in France -- and it's on Boulevard Montmartre, right in the city center.
There are many fabulous things about Paris, but sometimes you just need a reminder of good ol' American stuff. Here's the first Chipotle location to open in France -- and it's on Boulevard Montmartre, right in the city center.
I know I’ve waxed poetic here about the “honeymoon phase” of my move to France and appreciating the “small stuff” about my new life in the charming village of Samois-sur-Seine and within France itself. But you UrbanTravelGirls knew THAT wasn’t going to last. Reality eventually intrudes, and all those cute-and-charming quirks about French life—you know, the midday break most businesses take, the fact that nobody but you seems to be in a hurried rush—start to get on your ever-lovin’ nerves. And I’ve encountered quite a few of those quirks over the past week, frustrating me and making me wonder WHAT in the world I was thinking to trade in a relatively easy and uneventful life back in downtown Chicago for the unpredictability of one as freelance consultant and writer overseas.

To keep my annoyance from getting out of hand, I’ve had to quote myself, referring back to UrbanTravelGirl posts I’ve written in seemingly simpler and less stressful times: “But although there’s much that’s fabulous about living in France, it’s not like every day is a holiday or that I’m constantly planning a last-minute vacation to some fabulous place (my Travel writing work notwithstanding). It’s real life, with all the pressures, challenges, errands and occasional hassles that go along with it—visits to the dry cleaners, La Poste, immigration office and other havens of bureaucracy.” For this Type A workaholic, it’s not always that easy.

Take yesterday, for example. Early in the morning, I tried to buy a train ticket online from Paris to Villefranche-sur-Mer for a friend’s wedding in the south of France, and for some weekend travel from France to northern Italy. Seems simple enough, right? Well, since I needed to pick up the tickets at the Paris train station, the website wouldn’t accept U.S. credit cards, only French “Carte Bleue” ones embedded with a special chip—and my French bank account hadn’t yet credited the funds I’d transferred over from my U.S. bank last week. So I called my bank in the nearby town of Fontainebleau, asking in broken French if I could just deposit euros in my account and have immediately available funds as I would at my bank in the States. NO SUCH LUCK. It would take at least one day.

So I went to Paris’ Gare de Lyon, a large station where trains depart for places in the south such as Marseille and Provence, and Italy. An employee assured me that I COULD use my foreign credit card in a self-service machine, thus skipping the line—so I got out of the long queue. (You know where this is going.) Of course I couldn’t—so those two tries wasted 30 minutes, making me run late for my next appointment.

The taxi driver told me the ride to historic Place Vêndome would take 14 minutes, but it ended up taking 40 and costing a small fortune—AND I ended up jumping out the cab and walking the rest of the way. Every time I’d ask, “Honestly, Sir—how much longer?” he’d say, “Four minutes.” WHY can’t folks just tell the truth, even if they can’t give the answer you’d like? And then the endless queues at the supermarket last night … ARRRGGGHHH!! Last night, I was supposed to check out the VERY cool Festival Django Reinhardt, the Samois summer music fête named for the famed gypsy jazz guitarist, but after this hassle-filled day I was spent.

If I had a euro for every time a friend or acquaintance said, “Wow—you’ve got such a glamorous life,” I’d be a wealthy girl (which I’m obviously not). Sure, thanks to my work, I get to experience incredible places—such as the five-star hotels and restaurants I visited last month in St. Tropez, Nice, and Monaco—but these only pay off if I’m able to translate those into Travel and Food articles that some publication wants to buy. But folks don’t see me sitting in my PJs in the middle of the night and early morning, noisily typing on my laptop and crashing on some deadline. Or the constant back-and-forth e-mails with potential editors and clients about possible projects and story ideas. Or poring over some French-language website or brochure, French-English dictionary in hand, desperately trying to decipher some important rule and keep myself on the right side of the law.

Sure, life would be way simpler and more carefree for us expats if we were independently wealthy or living luxuriously in villas in Jamaica. But as Kelly Clarkson shouts in “What Doesn’t Kill You (Stronger),” there’s something to be said for challenges:

What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger, stronger
Just me, myself, and I
What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger
Stand a little taller ….

But it’ll take more than these hassles to send me packing. (And to be fair, there have been GOOD moments this week, such as going to the French immigration office toute seule (all alone, no translating friend in tow) for a required medical exam and walking away with my “Certificat de Controle Medical,” officially stating that I meet the health conditions to legally live in France. YAY for that!!) What’s key is remembering that this is all a learning process—I shouldn’t expect to know all the answers yet. Folks who’ve been here for decades are still figuring out French bureaucracy and how the country works, so why should I be surprised when I get caught off-guard?

As I always say, it’s just more fodder for “the book!”

BlackGirlTravel.com transforms faces – and lives – through Paris tour

by

Fleacé Weaver (center) and her made-up “FlyGirls” after their fabulous afternoon – one created especially for THEM – at black|Up Cosmetics.
Fleacé Weaver (center) and her made-up “FlyGirls” after their fabulous afternoon – one created especially for THEM – at black|Up Cosmetics in Paris.

Among the many things I love about France—and living about an hour south of Paris—is that so many folks from the United States come through the city. I’ve already had a chance to spend quality time in the City of Light with some true-blue American friends who’ve visited here (Salut, Carol, Katherine, Kelly, Mary, Paula, Betty and Mike!).

What I ALSO love about living here is having the chance to meet so many others who are traveling through town on their own adventures. That’s why I was SO psyched when the fabulous Fleacé Weaver, founder of Los Angeles-based BlackGirlTravel.com, invited me to spend an afternoon with her and a dozen women as part of the group’s “April in Paris” tour. These African-American sisters spent two weeks living la belle vie in the heart of Paris, with Fleacé—who personally organizes and leads tours for sisters around the globe—as their fearless leader. I’d first met her virtually two years ago when interviewing her over the phone for a JET Magazine and JETmag.com Travel feature on “African-Americans Going Global.”

Among the specially created Parisian activities Fleacé’s group enjoyed was a makeover session at black|Up Cosmetics, which bills itself as the “#1 ethnic makeup brand” in France. A central Paris showroom filled with all the skin care, cosmetics and assorted extras a fashionista of color could want, black|Up hooked BlackGirlTravel UP on this May afternoon. Fleacé asked me to chronicle not just the makeovers, but how international travel—and specifically, this trip to Paris—was transforming these professional women’s lives. Check out the piece I penned for BlackGirlTravel.com, photos from their glamour-girl afternoon — and the other amazing group trips planned for Italy, Greece, Brazil, South Africa, Egypt, Dubai (and of course, Paris!) later this year and in 2013.

Talk about a small world. One of the women traveling in Paris with Fleacé told me how she first discovered BlackGirlTravel—and it was through that article I’d written for JET! Gotta love the power of the written word! What an awesome platform—and responsibility—we Travel writers have when sharing our work with the world.

So get out there, sistagirls, and keep on traveling!

Countdown to my French departure ….

by

Ahhhh... now THIS lovely breakfast-on-the-balcony (at the charming Hotel Welcome in lovely Villefranche-sur-Mer) says France to me! I need to think of scenes like these when I start stressing and obsessing about my upcoming move.
Ahhhh... now THIS lovely breakfast-on-the-balcony (at the waterfront Hotel Welcome in lovely Villefranche-sur-Mer) says France to me! I need to think of scenes like these when I start stressing and obsessing about my upcoming move.

So I’m headed to France in a little over one week, and am alternately super-psyched, nervous, thrilled, stressed to the max, giddy with excitement, and worried. While part of me cannot WAIT to board that Iberia flight headed for Europe, my evil twin fears that I’ll spend all those trans-Atlantic hours obsessing about … STUFF.

Will my limited French-speaking skills make me feel (literally) like the “village idiot” when I get to Samois-sur-Seine, the picturesque place south of Paris where I’ll be living? Will I find enough freelance writing and consulting work to keep me challenged—but not so much that I end up overstretched and fall back into my workaholic ways? Will I finally meet a decent man who is what he claims to be—or will the language gap (and his sure-to-be-charming French ways and accent) make it that much tougher to figure it out?

When you decide to pull up stakes and move by yourself to the other side of the world, the tasks you need to handle before leaving home are LEGION. Everything from dealing with bank account transfers, long-stay French visa applications, endless doctor-dentist-optometrist visits, prescription orders, searching for international health insurance, laptop backups—not to mention the terribly stressful task of sorting, packing, and storing. What do I need to carry in the three suitcases I’ll take with me to France? What needs to be boxed up and shipped by the U.S. Post Office—and when? What needs to be banished to storage—and what do I need to get FROM storage and send overseas? It’s enough to make a chica lose her ever-lovin’ mind! (Usually, I just stop thinking about it and take a nap.)

I’ve even spent early Chicago mornings on Skype, calling black hairstylists at Parisian salons to find out if they can handle my hair while I’m in France. You UrbanTravelGirls KNOW there’s NO way a sister’s heading overseas without figuring out on the front end what she’s going to do with her ‘do!

If all this wasn’t enough, I needed to make an American Airlines “mileage run” out to San Francisco and back last Friday—all in one day. I know it sounds crazy, but I needed about 3,500 extra airline miles to maintain my elite status on American, which will be especially important next year when I’m traveling internationally—so I flew from Chicago O’Hare to San Fran Friday morning and less than two hours later jumped on a flight back home. I’m often rushing when I get to the airport and ALWAYS overpack, so I need the perks that come with being a “Gold” flyer—being able to check in at the always-shorter First and Business Class lines, to get on standby lists for earlier flights, to check bags for free. (Of course, it would be way easier to earn benefits without leaving the ground by racking up miles with something like an Aeroplan credit card that hooks you up with flight rewards, access to worldwide airline VIP lounges, and lets you sprint through priority check-in at airports. But that would be simple—and as you can tell, “simple” seems to be against my religion!)

I’m one of those strange people who actually ENJOYS moving—and I should, as I’ve lived all over the United States because of various newspaper reporting and corporate jobs. In the past, I’ve loved the process of researching where I’m going (it’s the journalist in me, I’m sure). Meeting new people. Starting a new routine. Discovering all the great things about my new surroundings. Maybe I’m getting older, but relocating is not nearly as easy-breezy as it used to feel. (Perhaps it just seemed way simpler because my corporate employers often were footing the bill for the entire move, complete with packing and unpacking all the stuff I transported back and forth across the country. Hmmm….)

But what I’m trying to remember—and take time for—during this hectic move-to-France process are PEOPLE. What I’m regretting is that I won’t have time to grab coffee, sit down over drinks, or relax over lunch or dinner with many of the folks that I’m truly going to miss during my time in Europe. Where I can, I’m trying to catch them at their offices—or even during workday coffee or smoking breaks—rather than miss seeing them at all. And with Christmas falling just before I leave—and many pals already heading home for the holidays—I’ll have to meet up with these travelers next year during my visits back home.

Before I moved to Florence, Italy, back in 2004, some of my good girlfriends threw a fabulous “Buon Viaggio” party for me at one’s downtown condo—and I got to say arrivederci to dozens of friends, colleagues and relatives at one time. But I didn’t want any such farewell for France (to me, it’s like I already had the big church wedding with the white gown … no sense in doing that twice!). So I’m hoping that when folks make their way to Paris or elsewhere in the French Republic, they’ll let me know in advance and we’ll get together on the other side of the pond instead.

Now THAT’S a rendezvous to get excited about!

ENFIN (FINALLY)!! France, HERE I COME!!

by

I'm all smiles at this charming restaurant in Nice, France. I'm even MORE thrilled to be spending 2012 in this fabulous country!
I'm all smiles at this charming restaurant in Nice earlier this spring (I was in the south of France visiting a good friend in Villefranche-sur-Mer). I'm even MORE thrilled to be spending 2012 in this fabulous country!
I NEVER tire of seeing the amazing "La Tour Eiffel." This photo always reminds me how important it is to view life from different angles -- and that's EXACTLY what I plan to do in France next year.
I NEVER tire of seeing the amazing "La Tour Eiffel." This photo always reminds me how important it is to view life from different angles -- and that's EXACTLY what I plan to do in France next year.

Those of you who follow this blog know how much I love Europe—and that there’s a super-special place in my heart for France, where I’ve spent many incredible times over the past several years, from the north to the scenic south. FINALLY, I’m getting the chance to actually LIVE there … and I’ll be a mere 40-minute train ride from Paris, my favorite city anywhere in the world!!! The plan is to leave the States soon after Christmas and launch my “new life” in France—JUST in time to ring in the New Year!

Thanks to my very good friend Katherine (aka my “fairy godmother”)—and HER very good friend Hannah who lives near Samois-sur-Seine, a picturesque French village of about 2,000 people—I discovered this most magical place this fall. I’ve decided to take a “sabbatical” of sorts here, finally breaking away from the stress of super-long work hours and daily life here in the States. It is here in Samois-sur-Seine that French artists, writers and poets found sanctuary during the 19th century—and I am convinced that this beautiful setting, with its serenity and charming scenery, will provide endless creative inspiration and offer the perfect “home base” for my writing.  

Ironically enough, I’d already PLANNED to move abroad next year—and after a great visit to Panama City, Panama, with my dad this past spring, I’d decided that Central American metropolis would be my next stop. I’d begun readying my downtown Chicago condo for rental and had jumped back into the frame of mind essential for one planning to ditch the comfort of America for the particular challenges of expat life. But when the opportunity arose to move to Samois, I decided to say OUI! without hesitation, as I’m confident that it’s ALL happening in divine order. While I don’t know exactly WHAT will happen next year in France, I can’t wait to find out. That’s what adventure is all about, isn’t it?

I’m a TOTAL big-city girl, one who loves and thrives off the energy found in the Chicagos, New Yorks and Londons of the world. But I truly can’t wait to settle into this lovely and peaceful village south of Paris, where my living quarters will look out on a lovely garden. I’m not being facetious when I say I believe that this move will be a literal life-saver. I’ve dealt with many stress-related health issues over the years—most stemming from my Type A, workaholic lifestyle here in the States. Having the chance to FINALLY relax, to write, to meditate—not to mention to shop in French fresh markets and boulangeries year-round, and actually having time to COOK what I pick up at these civilized places—will do wonders for my emotional and physical state. I’m convinced that once I get there, I’ll wonder why I didn’t pull up stakes and head back overseas years ago.

I plan to make regular pilgrimages to Shakespeare and Company, a legendary bookstore across from Notre Dame on Paris' Left Bank.
I plan to make regular pilgrimages to Shakespeare and Company, a legendary bookstore across from Notre Dame on Paris' Left Bank.

As you UrbanTravelGirl readers know, this “expat thing” isn’t entirely new to me, as I spent nearly one year living and working as a freelance writer in Florence, Italy, from 2004-05. But thankfully, I’ve learned from the time I spent there—both the good AND the bad—and expect to translate the knowledge I acquired into an even more fruitful experience next year in France. And thanks to technological advances, it’ll be WAY cheaper and easier for me to keep in touch with friends and family and clients back in the States (there was no such thing as Skype during my Italy days, when I routinely spent more than $300 a month on Internet costs alone!). Thanks to excellent low-cost airlines in Europe, I’ll be able to affordably see more of the Continent, even on short trips.

Because I’ll be living in an authentic small village, I’m VERY much looking forward to speaking French every day (although my tutor will tell you I’ve got a long way to go!), eventually becoming a fluent speaker of a language that both fascinates and humbles me with its complexity, beauty and grace. And I’ll be living in a lovely riverside setting that will inspire my creativity. While I’m there, I plan to write about African-American women and their nearly 100-year history in France, beginning with the French embrace of entertainer Josephine Baker back in the 1920s. I’m hoping to share the diverse and fascinating stories of those who call France home today.

This majestic statue, named after the French Republic, is one of my favorites in Paris. It stands in Place de la République, near many of the apartments I've rented during stays in the City of Light.
This majestic statue, named after the French Republic, is one of my favorites in Paris. It stands in Place de la République, a square near many of the apartments I've rented during visits to the city.

I’m ALSO psyched because I’ll finally have time to blog more often—and I’m thrilled that you UrbanTravelGirls will be making the trek to France WITH me! I can’t wait to share musings on what it’s like being a single, 40-something African-American woman in France (and in Europe) during this time of intense global change. Since I’m a Travel and Food writer, I plan to hit the road when I can in search of great places and stories to share with readers back in North America. How are we Americans being perceived—and received—in countries around the globe? What do we as black women experience when we get out and about in this fascinating world of ours? I can’t wait to share it all with you in 2012 as I live out the mocha version of “Eat Pray Love,” “Under the Tuscan Sun,” or whatever other American-chick-moves-abroad-book-turned-flick you like best.

Here’s to a year of fabulous adventures for us all!