Now that I’ve been in France for over a month, I feel a bit more confident in saying I know how the barn runs. So aside from the fact that the majority of the people speak French, I would say a barn is a barn is a barn.

All the chores are the same because horses have the same basic needs regardless of what language is used to describe them. They need grain, hay, water, a stall and/or field. Some places are more regimented; others are more relaxed, the rest fall somewhere in between. This makes it both very easy and very hard to change barns, as I know how to do everything, I just have to learn how the boss wants it done.

I’m fairly certain I asked over a million questions that first week, and a million more since. Luckily they have been spread out between four different people so I think I’ve only been kinda obnoxious, instead of completely intolerable.

While my questions have slowed down in frequency, there is certainly no end in sight. I ask so many questions for two reasons. First, it doesn’t matter how many horses I have tacked up, in how many saddles, for how many different people. Every rider has a slightly different preference for everything from tack to turn out to mucking out. And I’d rather know what that preference is before I do something, rather than apologize after. I hate the saying “better to ask forgiveness than permission,” as that is just the epitome of disrespect to me.

Second, I want to know why. If it’s a question about turnout I want to know that Frosty goes out in field A, and Belle goes out in field B, and I want to know if it’s because Belle turns into the Beast (for unknown reason) when put in field A or if that’s just how Sally Mae did it one day and it’s never been changed. (All names here are completely made up and have nothing to do with real horses or Sally Maes). Or while riding, I want to know the theory behind the action. How can a rider know what to do when their trainer isn’t around, if they don’t understand why they should do certain things?

But to ask questions isn’t always enough. It’s also important to be clear in what you’re asking. One day when we were jumping the babies, Xavier told us to take them to a mini-corner that had been set up with poles. It was maybe 2’3” and not wider than 2’ in the center. We had definitely jumped higher and wider than that at this point, but it was still a new question so it needed to be approached with awareness. I asked him if we should jump it as a corner (more towards the point, than the middle) or as an oxer (as much in the center to give less room for a runout).

He then started to explain that you approach perpendicular to the line bisecting the triangle of the corner instead of riding the face of the fence. I realized that I hadn’t phrased my question well at all, and he was answering a completely different question. I then had to rephrase to get the answer I needed. By this time my horse had been standing around, muscles cooling for what was an unnecessary amount of time. In a different situation this waste of time could be detrimental, and could create damaging confusion.

To me, questions are the best way to think. Questions are the reason we understand how gravity works and how the Earth turns. To always be asking questions means that when a normally well-behaved horse starts bucking, instead of getting mad, you instead ask why.

So I will admit it: I am a question addict. I am a thinking, searching, and questioning individual and I hope to never stop. 

Marina Royston has left Virginia for adventures in France as a working student for French eventers Lindsay and Xaiver Traisnel. You can read all her blogs here.