Oh my gosh, why is it that French people get cold easily? Air conditioning...yeah, that isn't a thing here. Even when my host mother opened her refrigerator and I was standing near it, I was like "Holey Meow! Even her fridge isn't cold. What the heck?!"
I will circle back to this topic at the "end" of this post. Anyways:
I didn't do anything spectacularly tourist-like today. So, sorry; not many pictures.
I woke up today and it was the first time that I thought, "Uhhhhggghh! I do NOT want to walk to the train station for the tram today. Ugh. Why?" I was so sore this morning. This walking has got to pay off. If not, I'm going to be seriously grouchy when I'm back in the states.
So, I got to school and had French classes. Then I got Rachel to drag me to lunch. I ate mashed potatoes that actually tasted pretty American, green beans, and I didn't make it past the first bite of the piece of beef I was given. It was way too rare. Oh, and bread, of course.
History class, day 2: Today we were visited by Monsieur Claude Andres, a veteran from WWII. Yes, he's old. He was about 15 when the war started and was able to join the fighting when he was 18. Oh my gosh does he have a lot of stories, but I think that it might be too long of a blog post. Not to worry; I took many, many notes in English so I won't forget anything that he talked about. So, even if I have to write a post about him after I get back home, it will still be filled with details and accuracy. Oh my gosh, is he an interesting person! I just don't have time to talk about him tonight. Teaser! (It seems I'm good at those, aren't I?[for those who've read my novel] ).
Then M. Andres was finished and showed us pictures. We were photographed (see post on Facebook) and he left. We had a break and then learned a bit more with our teacher.
After class, I really didn't feel like going back home, so I asked Megan (also a student from my school in Indiana) if I could hang out with her and Mackenzie (from Alabama). They said "Absolutely". We waited for Ann (another Indiana girl. Yes, goes to my school too), because her class got out later than ours, at William the Conqueror's castle. I took some more pictures and we just talked a lot about things.
Part of the castle:
The bridge:
Then, when Ann arrived and after we all chatted some more, like girls do (a lot), the other girls wanted to get something to eat. I should explain: so, in France they eat dinner at around 8:30 (the absolute earliest is about 7) to 10:00. My host mother had been eating earlier for me, but theirs were just eating at their normal time: 9:00. So, they were always really, really hungry. So, I'm like, "Sure, sounds good. Let's go get something."
We walk across the street and they decide on a Boulangerie et Patisserie (Bakery and Pastry Cafe-like place). I couldn't help myself. When in France!
I got an "Chocolat Orange". It was basically a piece of chocolate and orange cake, but with more...um...I don't know...kind of like whipped cream or pudding instead of the dried flour cake that we have in the states. It was Soooo good. That's a lot coming from me, because I don't really care for pastries, such as the macroon that Ann got (basically like a really big cake sandwich. It looks kind-of like an oreo, but made out of really puffy, fluffy, soft cookies with cream inside. Ann's was chocolate, so nutella was inside with chocolate cream). I like macroons, but their just not something that I'd want to waste calories on, you know? It's like cake or pie? Pie with ice cream, every time please!
Chocolat Orange:
The front of the Boulangerie Patisserie called "Pean" where we ate:
We sat and talked some more while we ate our pastries. When we were done I said, "Thank you so much, guys. You have no idea how much I needed this! You know, speaking French all during school and then I go right home and have to speak it more with my host mother. I needed a real break to just be American and speak English."
And it was so nice that they understood. It is good to embrace France, but, as my host mother has admitted, I can't change my nationality. I can't change who I am. I need to be American, because that is who I am. And it's okay. It's not easy, but it's okay.
Then, I arrived back home at the same time as Emilie and Marie: my host mother's nieces. They came over tonight in order to help Colette (my host mom) with preparations for their grandmother's 90th birthday party. It was nice to talk to them, since they are my age (they are twins) and they can understand English a lot better. Most of the night, I was either stumbling through French (as usual) or having Marie translate for me. (Emilie is good at English, but not as good as Marie) Finally, I had someone there to explain all that Colette was planning to do this weekend and to tell her that I do not eat as much as them and it's okay.
Okay, back to eating! I asked Megan and Mackenzie: they agree. We do not eat as much as the French. It's not just a hospitality thing, because Emilie and Marie ate a lot more than I did. And Colette too. They all eat A Lot. I don't know why. They are all a lot thinner than I am. I just can't eat that much. It's kind of frustrating for them (I can tell) because food and meals are their way of showing hospitality. Oh, Americans. We are so frustrating. Sorry. Can't change. Won't change...at least, not that part.
Marie and Emilie were very interested in what I noticed was different between France and the US, and I had trouble answering them, because I had studied the differences for months. I wasn't really surprised when I got here. The French smoke more. The French aren't as "friendly" to customers (really, it's that the French salespeople are meant to be thought of as people and not servants to customers, but whatever.) The public transportation is cleaner and more available.
Oh, I haven't even talked about public bathrooms yet! There's a difference! So, there aren't a lot of free bathrooms. I'm lucky because I'm on campus where there are. And they are different. I hear that in, like, airports men and women go to the same "bathroom", but I promise that it's okay. So, you enter the "restroom" and there's a bunch of sinks and dryers. Then, around the walls there are other doors to actual rooms with toilets. You do your business in a totally separate room and then you go out and wash your hands with everyone (unless you're in the handicapped room, which has its own sink. I stumbled into one the first day). Oh...and there's the annoying part of public toilets not really having actual "seats". Yeah, that's just stupid. Get with it, France!
What else? Oh, Marie and Emilie wanted to know about religion in the US. Because in France, you're either Protestant, Catholic, or...I forget the third option. Doesn't matter. I explained that there are a lot of different Christian religions and other religions too. Emilie asked if Americans are mostly Catholic. Ha. Don't we Catholics wish? No, I, personally, don't think so. And speaking of Catholics, they invited me to a Mass for Catholic young people next Wednesday. So, you know where I'm going next Wednesday!
Then, we went inside because they were all cold. Because there was wind. See, I told you I'd circle back to French people being cold all the time. Oh, my sister would fit in here in France. How I miss AC.
And, I think that is all that I'm going to talk about tonight. It was such a chill, yet much needed happy day.
No comments:
Post a Comment