Doing Laundry

October 19th, 2023

When I first arrived, I felt horribly out of place. But sooner than I expected and later than I wanted, the bonjours stopped receiving hellos, the boulanger started tolerating my confusion, and I finally understood the magic distance to hold my phone to the gym QR scanner. The espressos got stronger, the croissants flakier, the windchill less biting. When I was in Reims, I couldn’t wait to get out. Now, on my last week, I don’t think I mind it as much.

I was doing laundry when I noticed a man who had a Basic-Fit backpack. Naturally — akin to the Jeep wave, a Tar Heels jersey, an Aer TP3 — we began speaking, just over Google Translate, as he had just moved to Reims from Georgia for rugby, and despite speaking eight languages between us (he spoke 6, I speak English and like 0.2 French and 0.2 Mandarin so just round up) we didn’t have any common verbal way to communicate. He invited me to work out the next day. I readily agreed and asked for a time. He just responded “between 9 and 2”.

The next day, at 10, I asked if he was available in a hour. He texted me a picture of him, already working out. Turns out, 9 to 2 means he works out from 9 to 2, every day.

In the middle of our subsequent two and a half hour workout (there was no way I was leaving early), while I was “resting” (lying on the floor, bringing a modern interpretation to “there are no atheists in foxholes”), I saw a guy who looked a lot like me, moving his phone back and forth in front of the QR scanner.

I wish them both luck, and that their bonjours have already started to receive bonjours.