'not really'... really?

With a recent trip to France mainland I found that talking to people in French is getting a bit easier. I've decided - possibly for the sake of sanity - that the stuff I don't understand is probably best not understood. You cut out a lot of crap, actually, when you don't entirely understand or speak a language. Things are right to the point, since you don't really have much more than what you need...not much small talk or embellishment available in the ol' repertoire.

What leaves me speechless, in addition to actually not having the words, are the things people say sometimes. 'Not Really' seems to be a common theme in people's perception of my life. Let me give some examples...

I've spoken to many people about the subject of adoption. This conversation begins in many different ways. It can start with where I've lived - San Francisco, and move from there to the gay community and how people feel about gay rights, including adopting children. Discussion around this may go on for a while before I say that I was adopted, at which point, inevitably, I get the same response, perhaps varying a bit from person to person: "Oh, sorry, I didn't know...well, I mean, you know what I mean, because they're not really your parents" and "Oh...well yeah, then you know what I mean, it's like, you're not really Jewish".
Yeah.
Here, I tend to try to make small talk with people around things I can easily talk about in French. So, family is easy. I'm a step mother. Voila. "Uh-huh", they say, "And so now you want to have one of your own, right?", or "Ah...yes, I see, and so you'll really understand how beautiful it is when the child is yours, because it's (normally they take a look around and lower their voice) it's ...different...when they're not really yours".
Yeah. Who are they looking around for, I wonder, someone not to offend? Intriguing.
It's presumptuous, at best, to say these things, especially when preceded by 'you know what I mean'. Actually, no, I don't. But I can infer. I can infer that you are lacking a certain amount of sensitivity or openness that I am happy to possess.

So, it kind of piled up in my head the other day, all this 'not really' business. If I were less happy with the family I have (all of it, my folks, extended, ma petite famille Guadeloupean, my friends) well then I might get really bogged down by the thoughts that 'not really' comments create. Actually I just find it really intriguing to be honest.
I mean, look at it this way, what if I believed what so many people said...what would be my place in the world? If I were...
Not really my parents daughter.
Not really Jewish.
Not really connected to the two little boys in my life, les monstres?

Where would I be then? Floating in not really land? Not connected to anything or anyone by strong ties that bind? Relatively identity-less? Pffff
Good thing I can look at it differently, eh? I'm a free agent. It's not the questioners or the clear-cut mold needers who decide who I belong with or to. Mais non, c'est moi.

In fact, I feel a bit sad for people who can't see past the connection of blood when it comes to deep love or spirituality, I really do. it's just, I wonder if they're happy that way, or not really.

Lesson D for Dengue a la Guadeloupe

As I type this I slaughter mosquitoes with one free hand using the mightiest of mosquito killers, the deadly red as I call it. It is an easy find here - see if I ever type that combination of words again - for just €9.99 in your local hardware store. Deadly red is a mini tennis racket in plastic and aluminum; rechargeable for your mosquito killing pleasure. Ours is red. I chose it as I felt it an appropriately aggressive color for the war against the mosquitoes.
Why so much talk of such tiny itch-creating things? One word: Dengue. Yeah, I caught Dengue fever. Don't know what it is? Here's a link to an extensive explanation by the CDC but I'll summarize:
Fever of 101F for four days, bones aching like the muscles are being pulled from them inside your body, achy joints, boiling hot one moment and shivering the next and sweating the entire time as if you are in a sweat lodge, zero appetite, a bit of nausea, dizziness, inability to move further than sofa and/or bed, total and complete discomfort of the most indescribable sort.

...and I had it EASY, from what I understand. I also understand that you can go through this a few times as there are a few different strains. Excellent news.

The upside? Nobody gives you any question once you've come down with Dengue. People offer support. It's no joke. Also, I lost those last seven pounds and as a consequence have a new-ish wardrobe on account of all the clothes I couldn't wear for the past ten months because I ate too many bokits and took a few too many aperos. Hey, I'm human. I figure if I chase the kids while they skateboard in the evenings perhaps I can even keep it off.

Ah...Guadeloupe... so much to offer, so much to teach me. I think people should get a special stamp in their passports after handling Dengue, you know, kind of like a Girl Scout badge. Bring it on, Gwada, bring. it. ON!