May's Fieldnotes
The search for a blacker France, wild flowers and taurus feels:
You ever meet someone or learn something which opens up an entire new realm of existence within you?
May was exactly that, full of monumental realisations and encounters - but then again, what else can we expect from the month of bloom.
May 1st found us in the home of a small yet powerful French woman. For the sake of this entry, she will be known as Miss E - short for Escobar - a name I had until then only associated with the infamous Colombian drug lord, Pablo Escobar. But she, with her small frame and open smile, gave the name a whole new meaning. The surname “Escobar” with its Spanish origins, is thought to mean “overgrown with bush” or “bushy ground”. When Miss E showed us around her big backyard, that was exactly what we found: a land overrun with golden, feathery tall grass, embracing her handmade home, all facing the serene views of gentle mountains.
We had made peace with our diverted plans, letting Portugal settle into a faraway horizon as we slowly moved toward our initially intended area to call home, a little more north from the Pyrenees. Ready to begin settling down. We had left the Camargue, with its fragrant pine-lined rivers and salt lakes. We managed to park our little home perfectly in a corner of Miss E’s front garden, nestled close to a towering bamboo bush forming a natural wall.
Miss E’s home was built according to the principles of Feng Shui. Though I was familiar with the practice, it was only upon entering her space that I truly felt its power, even before she mentioned it was intentional. I’m quick to sense the energy of a new place, to feel whether my body softens with ease or tightens with tension or confusion. Something we often don’t have to worry too much about since for the most part, we are safely nested in our caravan and own energy during the exchanges.
This stay was meant to be one of our final Workaway adventures as we slowly made our way “home”. Beyond being a budget-friendly way to travel (especially after Magdeline’s pricey car repairs), Workaway was the ideal way to step fully into a new local community, especially if you want to truly know the people and their area. And boy have we been lucky!
We generally seek hosts who share our interests, whether wellness, holistic living, permaculture, or similar creative pursuits. In just a few days of staying and helping out, we often not only learn new skills, recipes, and regional insights but also gain knowledge from locals about the place they call home. They share the realities of community life - the pros and cons of the area, housing prices, and the lessons they’ve learned about what they’d do differently if starting fresh. It’s such a magical way to travel, learn, and connect, especially when you’re on the kind of mission we’ve been on.
Miss E offered us all that and more. Like her most favourite phrase, repeated after every task she gently asked help with; “no hurry, slowly, slowly, we progress.” It became a mantra we heard over and over again. There was no rush in her place, everything was exactly where it belonged and moved no faster than a snail. Snails were plentiful on her property, much to the delight of her two lover ducks, who, along with her three chickens, were part of a symbiotic relationship she had carefully nurtured with her land. A place where everything had a purpose, everything belonged, including the strangers she welcomed into her space.
On our first official day, she gave us a tour and introduced us to her house rules, important when hosting so many guests on so many life-paths. She had been welcoming travelers for decades and saw it all as a way of life, living in a dynamic collective. Her Workaway reviews overflowed with praise and admiration from all over the world. Once we arrived, we too quickly understood why.
So, Miss E had studied Chinese medicine and philosophy for years under a Chinese Feng Shui teacher. She had traveled extensively, teaching and learning alongside him. Though he had long since passed, he left a beautiful legacy within her. She never forced her philosophy on others; rather, she spoke of it in true Feng Shui fashion, naturally and organically. She didn’t present it as a practice she was teaching but as a way of life that had brought her back home to herself. And that, she often passed on with ease: how to be at home within oneself and allow others to do the same. How to avoid imposing, so that space can be filled with acceptance and harmony can be trusted to follow.
I have to admit, a part of me is usually a bit cautious, even skeptical, when I meet white people who say they've devoted their lives to Eastern-inspired spirituality. Too often, there's an eye-twitch-inducing level of inconsistency, or even a certain shallowness, in how that spirituality is integrated into their lives, especially in the Eurocentric selective and convenient ways it's applied.
However, I did not feel that at all with Miss E. Every day, together out in her yard, whether pulling back overgrown grass to reveal a hidden path or planting flowers, a subject would arise naturally, and she would share her insights. Her voice, small like her frame but clear and grounded, would make you stop and listen. She spoke with an expressive face and graceful hand gestures, painting swirls in the air to illustrate her points.
“The world suffers from a kind of schizophrenia. There is no harmony between the beings we are meant to be and the performances society expects us to engage in. We are dissected and fragmented from our true selves, lost before we even have the chance to truly meet ourselves. Only confusion, disconnection, and disharmony can result from this. All the attempts to impose order have only brought chaos, not the organic kind found in nature, but one born of fear and distrust of nature itself. We suffer deeply because of this...”
She would say - I’m paraphrasing, of course - and then you’d find yourself still, perhaps with a plant waiting to be planted, perhaps invited to place a hand on your hip for stability, look up at the sky or the distant mountains. Holding her words and wondering where to place them within your mind and being. Yet nothing she shared ever felt strange or foreign; it was as if she were simply naming a truth already sensed but that one had yet to put into words.
Our time with Miss E also reintroduced us to Daoism, but from a living, breathing perspective. She shared knowledge about herbs, society, medicine, and inner harmony. She welcomed us into her home with kindness and grace, yet maintained healthy, clear boundaries that respected everyone’s autonomy. She offered sincere hugs, belly laughs, and peace of mind. Simply knowing someone like her exists and walks among us was a comfort in itself. It was easy to talk openly about many topics, even colonial oppression (which is a tricky subject for most French people, despite race). Yet this is a subject that the people of Occitanie, though considered “white”, often grasp more deeply than many in the former colonizing empires, where there’s a persistent tendency to deny any connection between the past and the present (except, of course, when it comes to celebrating the parts that glorify their history and power).
Miss E was always genuinely grateful and impressed by whatever you contributed to her property and projects, which only made you want to give more - slowly, slowly, of course.
She later told us that she cared far more about the energy with which people engaged with the work than the actual hours or tasks they completed. This was something her actions and natural ease had already made clear.
We left her home knowing we had gained far more than we had expected for our stay and exchange. We also knew we would return, having found in Miss E not only a kindred spirited friend but an older and wise teacher in so many of the things we both care about.
Doing more of what I love
During our stay, Miss E also helped Delphine arrange a show in a cozy, intimate art and wellness space owned by her friends. A place where she also hosted events based on her practices. The venue was a renovated old building owned by a couple who, like us, had traveled from the Northern Europe only to find themselves settled by fate in Southern Occitanie. The show welcomed a new audience for Delphine’s evolving work, along with fresh opportunities, all connected back to Miss E, who had a remarkable gift for weaving people, talents, and needs into her vibrant community.
“May, you were talking about what you do online. Maybe we should talk, I think you could help me with a project I have in mind,” Miss E said one afternoon while I was slowly planting stones for a new garden pathway (another skill I picked up!). Later, over tea, she shared her vision for different projects and the challenges she faced in bringing them all together. I listened carefully, asked questions, and then repeated back what I understood her wishes to be. Together, we began connecting the dots, turning her ideas into a tree with roots, a trunk, and branches representing her desires and the ways they intertwined.
“Wow, that’s exactly it"! Exactly what I’ve been struggling to articulate! You did it so well, that’s exactly it!” she exclaimed, her eyes bright with contagious excitement. So, we decided that I exchanged my hours of help by assisting her in bringing her project live, aligned and online. I would help build a space that could hold her many years of experience and teachings, a task I took on with honor. It perfectly resonated with what I wanted to do more of: finding people with beautiful, heart-centered dreams and projects, and helping amplify their communication and online presence through my IT skills, expertise, and passion. As a multi-passionate person myself, I had naturally honed the art of combining passions and desires into a thriving, connected ecosystem. I also love all that she stood for, so all in all, I knew this could be a great partnership!
Turning 36, changing destinations
In mid-May, I celebrated my 36th trip around the sun. I woke up that morning feeling deeply grateful for the journey so far. Especially the one between my partner and I. How much we had both grown individually, yet how aligned we still felt, growing in the same direction. I spent the morning in our caravan quietly reflecting on all the blessings of my 36 years. I was enjoying a slow morning alone in bed. Rare, since my usual late-riser, who typically appreciates it when I don’t jump out of bed immediately, was already up and buzzing with energy as soon as her alarm went off. I sensed she was up to something.
About an hour later, she returned to the caravan “Oh wow, look what I found with your name on it!” She badly acted, trying not to smile while handing me a handwritten paper. It had a birthday message and was coded with hints about the day ahead and instructions on what I should pack for our trip. I was already in a great mood, and this gesture filled me with waves of gratitude. Despite all she had to do (not to mention preparing for a show she had performed the night before), she had found the time and space to put this together.
I remember her clearly, the day after we decided not to head to Portugal, where I had originally planned to celebrate my birthday. I was feeling sad and bummed out, the weight of dashed plans heavy on my heart. But with quiet assurance, she said, “Don’t worry baby, you’re still going to have a beautiful birthday. I’ll make sure of that!”
What could be better than the perfect Lisbon celebration I had imagined? A Taurean dream day meticulously planned; snacks and bits I’d been craving from the city, a 90 minute magical eco-massage to treat myself, and a feastful dinner with lovely company to cap it all off. Still, I heard her conviction and found it sweet, her wish to comfort me, to give me something new to look forward to.
Over the years, living often far away from home and loved ones, I’d learned that the only truly good birthdays were the ones I went out of my way to create. So I nodded and allowed myself a little more time to wallow in the sadness of the canceled plans - letting disappointment flow, feeling it fully, making space for acceptance, and finally welcoming a fresh, gentle ease. A tried and true method of emotional alchemy.
But what a beautiful day she ended up crafting for me. It held all my favorite things, places I like to be, and moments. I lacked for nothing, snacks and treats in abundance, hikes through breathtaking nature, and a two-hour spa retreat that had us feeling like giddy kids. But it was during one of those nature walks, belly full from a good picnic spread overlooking an open cave, that our conversation took another turn.
Before the show, after gauging the waiting audience, I had hurried up to her “talent room” to mention that the crowd was very white and of a seasoned, though diverse, age - perhaps she could rearrange some of the very radical songs she was unsure about to flow a little better with the audience (and their glasses of wine)🙃. The whole ordeal had me feeling like Issa, in that one Insecure episode where she was representing a radical “Urban” artist. Dare we be we and fully and still get paid?
We talked about it again on the hike, reflecting on the value of performing in spaces where the crowd’s diversity matched the richness of the work we were sharing. We also discussed my own desire to organize more live events and workshops centered around my work in holistic, decolonial sovereignty and healing.
We wondered if where we were headed was truly the right fit for all of that. We loved the nature there, the alternative, open way of life, and the kindness of the community of the area. But as we spoke, it became clear that the dreamed up area perhaps, was better suited for the quieter, more restful years, the calm after the fire of younger days. It also didn’t help that, after Delphine’s show, while mingling with the audience, a gentleman, upon hearing about our plans to settle in the area we’d initially chosen, called it a ‘cultural desert,’ among other things. Trust the French to tell you how they really feel.
Going back a bit though, during our creative retreat, we had realized there was still plenty of fire in us, fire for our dreams, for our work, for creation itself. We needed a place where our bodies and minds could thrive, but also where our soulful passions could burn brightly. Our slow-caravan journey had made that perfectly clear.
We realized, too, that we didn’t want to do too much “cultural pioneering” or break new ground. We wanted a place where some of that soil was already fertile, where seeds could be planted and have a greater chance to thrive fully.
So, as my earth-day ended with the setting sun, we talked through the places we’d been that felt more fitting. We settled on a golden triangle nestled between three French cities between the sea, mountains and countryside. There, we imagined finding a quiet space to start our life, a place close to rich inspiring cultural diversity, vibrant creativity, calming landscapes, and the international feeling - mixed with the slow and flexible pace of Provence.
Slowly, slowly, we would forge our path, making room for both passions, peace, creativity and stillness.
At the very slightest, a place where I wouldn’t have to run up to Delphine before a show to ask her to rethink her setlist 😅, where I too could speak boldly and clearly about my passion for decolonial sovereignty and healing. So, yes, a rerouting, sure- but one we instantly both felt holistically deeply excited about - mind, body, soul and spirit! And that excitement was the clearest sign that we were on to something. So, let’s go!
ART: Listen, Watch, feel
Listening
Joan Armatrading performing live in Berlin:
Lately, I’ve been returning to some old musical comforts and discovering new layers in them. I watched a younger Joan Armatrading performing live in Berlin, such a steady, powerful and yet, vulnerable presence. There’s something so intriguing about the way she holds the stage,makes mistakes and tries again, like she’s completely at home in herself. It was a cute watch and listen from a time long gone.
Oliver Mtukudzi & The Black Spirits:
I also came across a live recording of Oliver Mtukudzi & The Black Spirits. I had never heard of them, but their set/interview was full of spirit and a kind of quiet defiance in the way they answered the presenters' questions - it felt deeply Pan-African, afro-futurist, where we have long moved beyond the confinements of a western-worldview, where even questions answered are transcendentally radical because they live in a whole different realm than that of the western mind. It was a really special performance that also reminded me of rhythmic African lullaby’s. It really stuck with me.
Watching
Abbott Elementary:
On the watching side of things, we’ve been catching up with the latest season of Abbott Elementary - please just get together already! If you know, you know. Anyway, it’s been such a nice way to wind down after long days, just one episode before bed, perhaps during desert and tea time. Always funny, and always comforting. Delphine keeps telling me that I remind her so much of Barbara though? I don’t really see it…
I also watched Inside the Pirahã World, a documentary about a remote Amazonian tribe called the Pirahã and their very unique language. A language that can be spoken, hummed and whistled?! Since, I have a strong interest in expanding my world-views, I am always intrigued by communities and tribes who still live rather unaffected lives by western and modern society. They are holders of older worlds and important connections many have sadly lost. It was truly fascinating. *Spoiler: The missionary who went to convert them ended up questioning everything about his own worldview. He realized their way of life might have more depth than the one he came from. He integrated into their culture, wanting to learn and share his findings. Findings which later pushed him into conflict with the western academic world. I loved that after 20 years of living with them remotely, he did not manage to convert a single soul - the tribe were not interested in what he was selling and had a strong spiritual and autonomous inner constitution.
I also loved learning that it is now illegal in Brazil for missionaries to visit protected tribes. A few centuries too late but still appreciated.
It was also interesting to see how fragile western so-called universal truths are, especially when challenged by robust and radical decolonial or indigenous perspective. Truly recommend.
A show (old show and available on Youtube) that has sneakingly made its way into my rotation. I used to watch the Danish version growing up whenever I caught it on television (remember those). There’s just something so weirdly soothing about watching strangers cook for each other, be awkward, passive-aggressive, and proud of their signature dishes. I find myself curious about the meals they make and how I could veganize them, or if their homes match their personalities. It is also a great insight into British culture as they tend to mix people from different cultures, class and political views - It’s light, easy to watch, and good for unwinding.
Joys, wild flowers and black taurus’
In May, wildflowers burst into colorful bloom, and I delighted in gathering whichever mix caught my eye to place in our little table vase/glass in the caravan. Those handpicked bouquets became beautiful companions through work and meals, sweetly brightening the room with their wild charm. As we wandered on walks and hikes, we learned to identify the plants around us and discovered which wildflowers held longest once picked. Always, I made an effort to take only a few blooms here and there, leaving plenty for our busy pollinator friends.
I also found out that while elderflowers look delicate and lovely, their scent, somewhat like sweat, is better left to the little creatures that cherish them… (or to be transformed into refreshing summer drinks). We kept coming back in the caravan after time away wondering what sweaty thing was hiding and where! Who knew it was the pretty flowers on the table!?
Black bull marks the eye
As a Taurean, it felt especially meaningful, and a bit surprising, to see so many black taurus’ throughout the entire Taurus season. Not just during our stay in the Camargue, but also, interestingly, near where Miss E lived, nearly three hours away. What was the chance of that? It wasn’t until later that I realized that around this very area would be the place where we’d decide to return and begin our project of settling down.
In the Camargue, these dark, sturdy bulls, known as taureaux de Camargue, are more than just cattle. They’re semi-wild stewards of the land, grazing freely through marshes and salt flats, helping to preserve the delicate ecosystem. They’ve also been mythologized in regional culture, central to the Course Camarguaise, a traditional, non-lethal bull game, and honored as symbols of strength, pride, and heritage.
There’s a rhythm to their presence, and even tourism that builds around their enduring mystique.
And maybe that’s why they struck me so deeply. Seeing these powerful, black bulls roaming the land like they had always been, and adding such dark beauty, felt strangely personal. Like a mirror flickered in the reeds. Perhaps a sign written before I could even conceive of its meaning.
Postcards of belonging from little Provence
After our stay with Miss E, filled with new wisdom and insights - knowing we would no longer be climbing north towards our previously intended area to settle, we took a U-turn and went back to the wet-lands between Camargue, Provence and mountain. A beautiful blend of the Mediterranean Sea, the vibrant cultures radiating from Marseille and the international city of Montpellier, along with mountains, wetlands, and rich histories.
When we returned, we stayed just outside Saint-Rémy-de-Provence, a town famous for its charming streets and its artistic heritage, especially during the time Vincent Van Gogh spent there. Although Van Gogh was sadly confined to a mental institution during his stay, he created some of his most iconic works, deeply inspired by the region’s mystical landscapes and unique light. As we did the “Vincent walk” through the small town where he lived and worked, surrounded by the soft golden light and a warm breeze dancing through the tall grass, we understood. We, too, fell in love.
The town itself is super cute, lively and quaint, and nearby, filled with beautiful nature walks, rivers, and stunning views in the region’s national park.
Our time in Southern France, pulled by so many things, also reminded me of a book I read years ago by Johny Pitts - Afropean. A book which helped me find more grounding and belonging even in the context of deciding to settle in Europe as a diaspora child - particularly Southern Europe with its heavy history of racism and extraction. Yet, it is also in this part of Europe, these landscapes, that I find myself feeling most at home in Europe. Perhaps it’s their geographical closeness to Africa, and the enduring influence of the motherland, that still echoes through their culture. Whether embraced or not.
The region’s cultural landscape is deeply enriched by its proximity to the lively port city, Marseille. A city that Pitts highlights as a crucial site for understanding Blackness in Southern France. While Pitts focuses mostly on Marseille and its urban environment, his insights resonate with the wider Provence area, which shares in this historical and social currents shaped by Mediterranean migration and postcolonial legacies.
Pitts explains that Marseille “stands as a testament to centuries of connection and contestation, where Black identities are forged in the interplay between colonial histories and local multiculturalism.” Though Provence itself is less directly talked about in his work, the cultural intermingling and social dynamics Pitts describes around Marseille imaginably ripple outward, touching surrounding regions. The rhythms of migration, community, and cultural expression that characterize Marseille often shape how Blackness and identity are experienced in the broader South of France.
Southern France, especially Marseille and cities along the Mediterranean coast, has long been a hub for Black diaspora communities and black figures that contributed to the Negritude movement and raising racial and black consciousness; from African, Caribbean, and African American backgrounds, all who were drawn by its cultural vibrancy, history, and relative openness compared to other French regions. Learning more about this and other black centred French histories, I am finding myself more motivated to improve my French. I would enjoy getting to read so many great works by great black French thinkers (though oddly mostly black men) and revolutionaries in the languages they wrote their books in.
The rich cultural history and vibrant landscape made it feel like the perfect place to find a quiet retreat. At the same time, we’d still be just an hour or two away from a wide range of diasporic culture and events to connect to.
We are truly excited about this coming chapter, already in full swing!
And so, dear reader, thank you so much for spending a bit of your day (usually Sunday) reading May’s Fieldnotes - I hope there was something here that you might be inspired to take beyond the screen!
And don’t be a stranger,
