Mina, pack your suitcase girl

The best way to be a better writer is to write, right? So that's why I just made a French blog! If you are French/speak French follow me! Let's see where this goes.

http://belleayrer.wordpress.com/

Hey, did you get that super awesome 90s wordplay I did in the title there?

Nov 1 Check-In

It's November already, and oh, how I have been busy.

Halloween was amazing. Pumpkin carving with Americans, Halloween party in Saint Contest Saturday, American-themed dinner in Caen Sunday. And to top it all off a comfy Halloween night chez moi watching Sweeney Todd and skyping mon cheri as he got ready to hand out candy to trick-or-treaters.

And today is November, All Saints Day. It's a national holiday here, which means no school, no work. For the most part, everything is closed. And the church bells are ringing off the hook.

Felt like a good time to look at my goal progress!

1. Get healthy physically, mentally, spiritually: Working on it. Have not set aside any time to meditate. Thinking of doing a cleanse when the seasons change.

2. Run 5k nonstop by March (the 3k track is literally right outside my door): Been to the track twice and can make it over halfway around, which puts me at just about 1.5k. I hope I can get to 5 by March!

3. Find yoga and do it at least weekly - First part down! Found yoga with recommended instructor at a University and first class is on Friday!

4. Eat seasonally: Succeeding. Shopping at the weekly market really helps.

5. See Germany: Planning to go at the end of May when my contract is up. Have been invited to Volksfest by a friend of mine who lives there =)

6. See south of France: Planning to go in February when my friend E comes to visit!

7. Perfect my french: This is an unobtainable goal as my french will never be perfect. But it feels better than ever. More on that later.

8. Cut down dairy/sugar consumption: Success! Despite living in the land of cheese, I have not bought any since I've been here. In fact, the only dairy I have purchased is a tiny can of creme fraiche and a block of butter. Am currently only eating cheese at restaurants/cafeterias, and I can feel the difference.

9. Write poems weekly: Unsuccessful, but turning it around.

10. Try other forms of writing/arts: Not yet.

11. Create lessons that I can use later as a teacher: Yes! I now have three that I can use.

12. Save money: Check.

13. Make awesome friends (already cracking away at this one!): Done and done.

14. Talk to family as often as possible: No trouble there.

15. Translate some French poems: Have found a few poets who pique my interest. Have to choose which poems.

16. Complete National Poetry Month in April (write a poem a day): Still far away.

17. Volunteer: No movement. Gotta get on that.

18. Complete advanced degree of french studies: Pre-registered today!

19. Handmake Christmas presents: Idea ready, and now time to get started on the execution!

Something awesome happened

I checked out a book from the library. An anthology of the most beautiful french love poems. And I decided I didn't want to read it.

Why is that amazing?

I didn't give up because the language was too difficult. I didn't choose to read something in English or a little kids book instead. I simply didn't like what I was reading. I found it cliched. And do you know how? I could predict the lines that were coming next. Whoa. Not only was I able to read and comprehend the words, I was able to predict what French words were coming next. I'm able to recognize cliches in French now! Booyah!

In all seriousness though, this is a big moment. I've been reading in French for a while. Not fluently enough to tackle Le Monde, but substantial writing that hasn't been watered down for a foreigner. When I read the bilingual edition of Julien Green's The Language and Its Shadow I was able to read the English works in English and the French works in French, without using the translation as a clutch. I've been keeping a journal in French. I've even written (using very, very simple language) a poem in French.

I think I'll go to the beach this weekend with a much better anthology of contemporary French poetry to celebrate. If I don't profiter du soleil now, I'll never forgive myself.

PS - Not all the lines were horrible. I liked this one.

Best and Worst Week Ever

Let's start with the bad to get it out of my system.

To Lexobus, pretty much the only bus company I can take in Lisieux, here is my middle finger. I hope you like it. It hasn't been given to anyone since the last time I drove in New Jersey.

Lexobus was on strike this week. I've written before about the uphill nightmare that is the walk to Laplace, and since I discovered Lexobus I've pretty much gotten fat and lazy and taken the bus to get there. But this week on Tuesday and Friday I had no choice but to walk it. I impressed myself on Tuesday. I got to school in twenty minutes and, while my face was red red red, I wasn't exhausted or anything. Friday was a different story. It was raining, Normandy style. Which is to say a lot. It was also super windy, so it took me double the time to get to school. And when I arrived I was soaking and assuredly stinky. After classes and lunch were over I noticed that the sun was shining bright. I though I should leave ASAP to get home without a repeat of the morning. About five minutes into my walk it started to hail. That's right. It wasn't raining. It was hailing! I'd already been suffering windburn and now I was being pelted with rock-hard pieces of ice. And do you know what happens when hail lands? It turns into water! So I'm soaked and sore from small hail bruises and my umbrella has just proven that it can do gymnastics when the wind blows hard enough (it's so mangled I don't even think it will ever be usable again). I finally get within a block from home and do you know what I see? Can you guess what I see? A fucking Lexobus! Arg!

I thought that my rant would end there, but last night I started to smell something disgusting in my apartment. Like a wet dirty dog. And then I realized that my new bag, the one I bought at soldes, was made of wool. If you don't know what that means, ask Tara.

OK. Breathe. Everything was fine last night. I got home, took a shower, worked a little on a V-Day present, had a nice dinner. And realized that a lot of good happened this week too:

-I understood every single word in "I Robot, You Jane."

-I can now choose between synonyms in French. For example, whereas before I could only call someone a man, I can now choose between the French equivalents of guy, dude, and bro.

-I did walk to and home from Laplace twice this week, and I'm not sore at all.

-I have a new neighbor who is very friendly, talkative, and generous. He cooked dinner for the two of us the other day and we had an entire conversation in French. I never get tired of hearing my accent and vocabulary are impressive!

-I made pancakes from scratch! I was missing baking powder, so in the end they were crepes, but it was fun to try a recipe from home.

-We have a new English assistant at Michelet. She's from Ghana and super-sweet. We won't be working on the same days, but maybe we'll hang out on our own.

and finally,

-Nathalie invited me to Paris next weekend! So I am finally going to see it tourist-style. Eiffel Tower, Louvre, Notre Dame, Champs-Elysees. Though I am supposed to think of other things I'd like to see. But I don't know too much. Any ideas??

SOLDES!

Do you know what they are? They're huge sales, the kind that are happening all over France right now. I went into Caen yesterday to make the most of these sales:



Black hat: 3 euros
Bright orange shirt: 4 euros
Bag: 5 euros
Looking this good: Pri -- well, actually it cost about $700 to get here
Feeling this good: Priceless


Win of the Lifetime
I was getting on a bus at the station and the driver was curious about me. He wanted to help me (must have thought I was a tourist, since I was at the station and all) by telling me the best way to get where I was going. But I told him I knew where I was going. Home. He then told me he could hear a bit of an accent and we got to talking. He almost keeled over when he found out I only studied French for a year and a half, and now the three months.

And then he gave me the best compliment ever. He told me that I have a perfect accent. I challenged him by reminding him that it was clear I was foreign. Then he told me that that was precisely why it was perfect. I had just enough accent to reveal that I wasn't from France, but not so much that he couldn't understand me. It was just enough to be interesting. Which pretty much rocked my world.

Best Week(End) Ever, Part 92748yt984t698

A short one, but full of fun none the less.

On Saturday, I went to Honfleur with all my colleagues from Laplace. It's this really nice port town filled with great little shops and cafes. We walked around a bit, took a crap-ton of photos, and then had a bit of hot chocolate at one of said cafes. Then, we headed back to chez Murielle to celebrate a French holiday called la fête de l’epiphanie, and I had so much fun! We started with the apéretif, which is where everyone sits around a table snacking, drinking, and chatting. I've come to really enjoy this part of the evening. At first, I found myself getting grumpy because it's basically an occasion for everyone to talk. I love to talk. But when I first got here, I really couldn't chat that way, so aperitifs seemed to be frustrating for me and really drag out. Now, I seize upon the opportunity to speak as much French as I want, ask questions that I've had (for example, Nathalie told me that Samantha Oups! doesn't really have a political message and I was probably thinking about it too much), and find out more about all the people I've come to know.

After the apéro, (and some awesome-ass Wii play with Colin where I won baseball and bowling but lost hardcore at tennis) we moved on to the dinner, which was delicious - way better than the spaghetti and corn dinners I've been eating for the past two weeks while I wait for my replacement bank card. Anyway, to get back to dinner, it was very nice, and the conversation was great. I can't stress enough how happy I am with the progress I’ve made in French. I was able to talk to the kids much more this time (I think they could notice the difference from Deauville!) and I could talk to all the boyfriends/husbands of the colleagues. And, for the most part, I could understand everything they said without having to ask to repeat or look to someone for a translation. It was awesome!

And then, we had our dessert, which was the whole reason we had this get together in the first place – to celebrate La fête de l’epiphanie! I so wish we had this holiday in Jersey. What happens is you buy a galette. Not the dinner-y type, but the dessert-y type. As you cut the galette, the youngest child (in our case Colin) goes under the table and calls out the name of who’s going to get the pieces. That way, no one can cheat. Everyone gets a piece of the galette, and in one or two of the pieces, there will be a little toy! Whoever gets the toy is the king. The king then picks a queen who gets to wear the crown. In this case, Colin got both toys (so unjust!) He gave one of the kingdoms to his dad, who then picked me as his queen! So I got to sport the crown! And Colin did not pick a queen. He said no one was good enough. Ha! Gotta love candor!

After dinner we all moved to the fireplace again to have some coffee and some more little chocolates! I could barely fit any more inside because I was so full from all that dinner and dessert. But it was nice to just sit with everyone and talk and understand things. And you know what's the best part right now? Sometimes I speak in English with some people, but now I feel like that's OK. Before, when I just got here, I had to use English. I completely lacked the means to understand a conversation otherwise. Now, I can do it. I might be slow, and the convo might have to be modified a bit, but I can keep up. Now, if I'm speaking English with someone it's because I made the choice between French and English. That, my friends, feels pretty damn good.

By the time everyone finally left and I got home it was like 2 in the morning! I think dinner itself lasted until after midnight. My alarm went off during the meal and when I said, "Wow. It's already eleven o'clock," Sophie's copin replied with, "There is no o'clock." Which, you know, is true because I had off the next day. Bonus part of the night: when Tapan called me he was at Donna and Rach’s taco party! So I got to talk to all my buddies! Rock!

Then on Sunday, I moved!!! I was getting pretty fed up with the problems in my old-ass apartment. The water that never lasts, the broken cabinet door, the shower head that spurted water everywhere and soaked the bottom of the floor, the creaky bed that sometimes made me itchy. I don't even want to think about what the reason could have been. I just made sure to wash all my sheets before I switched them. Anyway, it doesn't matter anymore because I switched to this awesome piece:

In English:


In French:


As you can see, it is super way more modern, and there's a hell of a lot more space since there's no awkward sink in the middle of the room. I'm very happy with it. Right now the only thing missing are enough outlets and a cable wire for the TV. But these problems will be fixed within the week. I'm a little bit antsy about the TV. Not antsy, really, but debat-ey. Honesty, I'm OK with not having a TV right now. I can use the time to listen to music, write, read, whatever. But then again, the TV is a really useful tool in learning French. Not just language, but culture also. I know what you're thinking: Ashley, why don't you just watch the TV sometimes? My answer: I can't. I'm pretty much addicted to the background noise. If I'm home, it's on. And that's that. Not a good habit, but it's the truth. But I'm enjoying not having it. I have 5,000 songs on my computer. And it's really nice to, you know, listen to them.

Favorite song of yesterday:



Thanks, Rach, cause without you I never would have downloaded this!

Sick & Tired

Not in the sense of being frustrated with or fed up with anything. I just happen to be sick with a head cold and tired as an effect of said cold. So I've been lazy with the blogging. Mostly because I lack the motivation to walk to the library where I can use the internet. Oh, things would be so much easier if I had wifi in my studio.

But hey, I had an awesome New Year! The party in Laudeac (accent over the e, I think) was super fun, and I was very impressed with all the costumes:

I'm the one with the ridiculous amount of blond hair (thanks for the wig Karen!)

And I absolutely adore my Pollyanna present:

He's a petit bonhomme Breton (in traditional Brittany dress)

Other than the awesome New Year's weekend, I haven't been up to much. I started getting sick just after, thank god, and I think it will go away soon. On the bright side, I was able to explain to the pharmacist all of my problems with no trouble! That's progress.

Win of the week: It snowed yesterday! Everyone told me not to expect snow and that it's super-rare here, but I guess France wanted to impress me. Even Will Smith, who was on Le Petit Journal last night, said he was surprised to see the snow in Paris. I was happy to see M. Smith on the journal. Apparantly, he bought the rights to Bienvenue chez les ch'tis and he's going to make an American version. Which, you know, makes me pretty excited because I'm curious how they're going to translate it. Maybe something like Welcome to Texas?

In other news, the American movies that have been frequenting network television these past few days have been interesting. In two days, I had the pleasure of watching Avalanche, Poseidon's Revenge, and Showgirls. For me, this is fine. Because we all know how much I adore B-list movies. But I imagine that most people I know would be very disappointed.

Well, that's it today for my useless observations and rambling. I'm going to go have a nap and then I'm going to watch Amelie. Finally, a good one.

I leave you with this, a picture Tapan made for me. It seems he always knows what to do:

In case you were wondering what I do with my time when I don't have to work

Here's what a typical day off looks like for me:

I wake up late, about 10am. I watch some children's programs on TV. I like them because they are easy to understand and often include vocabulary that is important to learn. If I'm particularly lucky, I'll find Samantha oups!, a program that I find quite quirky and intriguing, mostly because it features two main characters who are clearly men in wigs and women's clothing.



I'm not sure exactly what to make of it at this point. I haven't talked to anyone about it, so I'm not sure how they are received. If they are making a statement about how gender roles don't matter at all (the people in the show don't cast them dirty looks or otherwise acknowledge that they're not fulfilling their generally accepted gender roles), that's awesome. But if they're acting like this to be just a spectacle (i.e. the kids at home laugh because that man is in a dress, not because of the joke he made) or to make fun of the silly things women do, then that's not cool at all. I'm interested in watching more, and asking people whose kids watch it what they think.

Whoa. Majorly side-tracked. Back to my day: After I wash any dishes I was too lazy to clean the night before, I walk to the market if it's a Saturday or the supermarket if it's not. They're both about ten minutes away. Before I leave my studio I check my mail (nothing today) and take out any recycling or trash. At the market I buy healthy, fresh food, and stay away from frozen dinners and canned meals, which have been staples in my diet for far too long. Instead I buy fresh veggies, warm fresh-baked whole wheat bread, local cheese. Not much is long-life, which is why I grocery shop several times a week, much more frequently than in the states.

I dump all my purchases in my swanky reusable shopping bag (which the French are all about - most stores don't even have plastic bags to offer so you're forced to buy an earth-friendly one) and tote everything back home. I unpack, then make another trip to the discount Aldi's where I buy anything I can use in bulk - TP, candles, matches, whatever. Return home again, make lunch while watching a French trivia game I don't know any answers to, and maybe read a little from the local newspaper, but only if there's anything that can hold my interest long enough to persevere through the horror of not being fluent yet.

Then I go to the library, catch up on emails, blogs, and chat with anyone who is online for a few hours. Maybe I plan a lesson for the students. Right now I'm working on ideas for American New Years traditions. Anyone? Anyone?

By the time the library closes it's usually dark. If one of my friends was at the library with me, we might go have a drink, or walk in the same direction for a while, but that's pretty much the extent of my nightlife. I'm broke and there's not much to do in Lisieux during the week anyway. I return home where I draw or write in my journal or read; maybe if I'm feeling extremely motivated I'll even translate a poem. I wait to see what will be on TV later. If it's something good like Cold Case or CSI I'll watch that. If not I'll watch a little Buffy in French. I felt so accomplished last night because I watched "Tabula Rasa," and I understood the translation of the joke where Giles and Spike realize they're British. Usually, translated jokes are hard. To get them, you have to know more than just language. You have to know culture, and I guess I know that pretty well now. *pats self on back*

By now, it's usually pretty late so I take my two-min-max shower and talk on the phone a little before sleep. Not to make anyone sick with the honeymoon-phase butterflies, but Tapan does call me every single day. Which means a lot because it makes me feel like I'm not so far away from everyone.

I try to fall asleep every night to French, whether it's a DVD, TV, or a book. But so far it's not been working. Falling asleep to Buffy gave me strange nightmares. Falling asleep to Veronica Mars is impossible because it's so damn compelling. And I can only read for about three minutes before my eyes shut. Maybe I'll try the radio tonight.

Well there you have it. A day in the life of me. I'll have many more like them in the next four months. Whoa. Four months. As in three already gone. Stick that in your pipe and smoke it.

Language Progress Report - Something Happened

I had another best weekend ever! This time I was in Rennes with Karen and her copin, Fabien. Here are the things I have to write about:
• Galettes/Crêpes
• Marchés de Noël and the beauty of Rennes
• Transmusicales and an awesome percussion group
• Miss France
• Caramel au beurre salé
• St. Malo (including the biggest donuts and best sunset ever)

Here is what I want to write about:
• Learning French

So first what I’ve wanted to write about for a while:

It’s been a real struggle. Before I came, I had only studied French in school for three semesters. That’s a year and a half. And I have to admit I didn’t take it all that seriously. I didn’t even learn that I would have the chance to come to France until halfway through my second semester and even then, I was (regretfully) a little flip about it. I had this attitude where I thought three semesters would be a fine starting point and it would come to me naturally once I got here. And, I thought, if Professor King recommended me I guess I’m good enough. He knows better than anyone, after all. Well, it turns out that King didn’t realize that I wouldn’t have a fourth semester of French classes (because I was graduating just after my third). He was pretty clear that without the fourth semester times would be pretty hard for me over here. I said I’d come to as many of his French IV classes as I could, but then I got a M-F job which made auditing classes at my level impossible. I could have sit-in on some more advanced courses, but I was way too afraid. (Sorry Kory!) The point of all this is that by the time I finally got to France, the six months of time out of practice had wiped away a considerable amount of my vocabulary and grammar.

This significantly worried me. Especially because practically every other assistant I met was a French major, or had an immersion program, or had traveled in France before, or was born to parents fluent in French, or whatever. You name the reason they’re better than me, I’ve heard it. I don’t even want to talk about what happened when I first arrived in France again. Let’s move on to the good stuff.

Like I said in the title, something happened. I don’t know when it happened. Maybe it was last weekend in Caen; maybe it was at the awesome dinner I had last week with all my colleagues; maybe it was the first time I watched an episode of Buffy (dubbed in French) without subtitles and understood almost everything. Maybe it was one of those specific moments or maybe it was a blend of all of them and others. But I feel like, to be really predictable and cliché, a veil has been lifted.

It’s like I’ve been sick for a while. And people have had to be really gentle around me. You know, using small, simple words and basic phrases. And I’ve been trying to recuperate, learn this language, and it’s been this long, long process. For the most part I’ve had a super-positive attitude and tried my best. And sometimes it’s gotten to be too much and I’ve had to slip back into comfortable English with people I know will speak English with me. And, of course, I’ve been embarrassed to try French with people whom I don’t know well. The few times I did try with random people on the street or in the library, I felt like a total bother. Like it would be better for them and me if I just left them alone.

But this weekend was different. Karen told me that most of the weekend would be in French because her petit ami doesn’t speak English. But I decided on Friday that I would have an entirely French-language weekend. And I totally succeeded! With the exception of a few words here and there, and the internet and an hour or so of news in English, the weekend did pass entirely in French. Even when Fabien wasn’t there. It would have been possible to speak in English when it was just me and Karen, but I didn’t want to. And Karen is great. She was a French assistant in England not very long ago, so she can really relate. I told her to tell me when I made mistakes, and she corrected me without hesitation. She also has this way of translating things for me without using English. Sure, it would be easier for her and for me if she would just give me the word in English, but instead she thinks of a different way to express what she wants to say in French, and I can understand.

Like I said, I used to be afraid to talk with people I don’t know well, but that’s changed too. After talking with Fabien and some other friends of Karen’s (who don’t speak the English that’s oh-so-tempting to slip into when scared) I realized that I can get by in a conversation, as long as I say when I don’t understand something. I mean, people are going to understand that my grammar and pronunciation aren’t perfect, and sometimes the words I try don’t even exist, but I can manage somehow to express myself.

I know what’s happening. I’m en route to becoming fluent. I wouldn’t dare say that I’m fluent now, but I’m on my way. And that makes me grin like a silly preteen about to meet the Jonas brothers. When I talked to Tapan on the phone Saturday night, almost every thought that came into my head was in French. And I had to translate myself into English before I spoke. Also, those headaches that come after a night full of French have seemed to disappear. Plus, I’m dreaming in French more and more often. The other night, I even had a dream in which I corrected my own French!

When I first got here I said I understood about a third of all things said to me. In retrospect, I think it was much, much less. I used to dream about the day that I understood so much French that I could specify just one or two words per sentence that needed clarification. And that’s starting to happen.

I still have so much to learn that when I think about it my head hurts, but I’m happy with the progress I’ve made so far. Many people have told me they’re impressed, so I’ll let myself be impressed too. And hey, I learned by practicing on Fabien that I can in fact translate American songs into French. Not that it’s hard or anything. It’s not like the popular artists of today have anything particularly profound to say.

After this weekend, I know myself a little better. I know my strengths (my advanced English vocabulary makes it easy to find words big enough to be cognates; I’m like a sponge for slang; I’ve made progress with the “r” sound) and weaknesses (I pronounce “u” all wrong; reflexive verbs are unbelievably hard for me; I absolutely suck at the future tense). I know what to work on now, and what to keep up. Now, if I can just get past that tendency I have to zone out during long French conversations. It’s a habit that stems from insecurity, the assumption that I can’t possibly understand people. But now that I can follow a conversation, it’s time to let that habit die.

When you dream about your armpits

what does that say?

Last night, I had another dream in French. It was a short one, and a bizarre one. I dreamt that my armpit hair was grown in. A lot. And although I clearly hadn't shaved in a loooong time, I chose to wear a tanktop. As I was pointing something out to someone, this old old man noticed my little problem. So he screamed as loud as he could, while pointing at my underarms, "Tu es célibataire! Tu es célibataire!" (You're single! you're single!) I was embarassed and I looked down at the ground.

Well, I don't get embarassed much and I'm pretty candid on my blog. But this dream, for some reason, makes me feel like blushing. So, since I don't know what else to say, here's a funny deodorant ad:

Day in Pictures, Ashley Style

Taking a cue from my primary international news source, I present:

Ashley's Day in Pictures!



It started in the Chicago O'Hare Airport when I traded some American dollars for some cold, hard Euros. Check 'em out!









Then I boarded a plane to Paris and flew threw a sunset:

which doesn't look that different from the sunrise:

After landing at Charles de Gaulle, I had to find my hostel, which proved harder than it seemed. I got lost in the airport, I got lost on the metro, and I got wayyyy lost in Paris (I didn't realize I was walking in the wrong direction until I got to the previous metro stop). After 2.5 hours of carting around my life in two suitcases, I made it, and was super pleased with what I found:

I think this is the best part:


And I bet Cara would think this is the best part: Sorry about the glare. Those are Beatles right?

And here's a sign from Woodstock's kitchen:























Isn't it a great symbol of interconnectedness? I've been thinking a lot about that lately. In fact, I think I'll share with you my journal entry on it from last night's plane ride. Forgive me if it make no sense. I didn't sleep.

"September 23rd, 5PM (Chicago)
Airplanes are incredible. Right now I am sitting on a 767 Boeing jet. That means it has three columns (like I've only seen in the movies). There are 42 rows on this one. That means, when it's full to capacity, there are 294 people. Plus captains, attendants, and all the luggage in the cargo hold. That is a f***ton of weight! What an incredible invention. It can't possibly be good for the environment. Will they ever engineer smart planes?

I CAN NOT BELIEVE I AM DOING THIS.

I really don't have the cajones for this type of travel. What was I thinking when I accepted this assistantship?

Calm down, Ashley. You're just nervous. You've got a lot of love and support back home. People have faith in you.

The captain just made his announcement and I am realizing that this is the last official announcement I will hear in English. I am about to fly away from my home country into a foreign one, where I will be expected to speak and understand French. I will communicate with people using that language, and prepare students to do the same thing with my language. I have never before felt so connected. To the French, to Tapan who did this when he came to the US, to travelers everywhere who do this all the time.

And I'd like to end this meditation on connectedness by saying I am really glad that the seat next to me is empty. 8 hours. Leg room. All I'm sayin."


Wasn't enough leg room. Didn't sleep. Severely jetlagged. More to come soon!

France, Day 1

Bonjour tout le monde!

I am currently sitting in Woodstock hostel in Gare du Nord across from half of a Volkswagon beetle mounted onto the wall. It is awesome, the staff is friendly (and English-speaking), and I am proud of myself for getting here in one piece.

Today in moments:
-First word spoken in French in France: (not surprisingly) excusez-moi.
-Cofidence Boosters: Got through customs; successfully asked employee if I was in the correct line; Bought ticket to RER; Managed to get from RER to Subway to Metro to Woodstock Hostel with two giant bags all by myself.
-Confidence Buster: When we got off the plane the door was shut and someone had to say, "Open the door. The door is shut." I know how to say this, but could not. Someone else came to the rescue. Also, a man on the RER sneezed, and, though I can well say "bless you," I did not. No one blessed him.

Only one minute of internet time left. Will update again soon!

Français Update

I used to have this line that divided excitement and nervousness. It has faded into oblivion. I can't really verbalize how I'm feeling. I'm stoked to see another country so intimately. I mean, I've seen other countries before, but I sort of flirted for a few days, used them, and left without really getting to appreciate much, use Spanish, or get to know any citizens. Semester at Sea was a whirlwind; France is going to be much, much different.

I imagine it will be a slower pace (once I ditch Paris and settle into Caen). I'll have to use the fraction of the language I know and develop it as much as possible, which really intimidates me. But hey, I dreamed in French last night. I think I was saying, "No, you can not put the chicken in the car. I have a room reserved. Please, I have nowhere else to stay. Give me my chicken." And yes, I have full faith that the opportunity will arise for me to say all of that to someone.

I booked my hostel for the first three days I will be there. Hella awesome. Apparantly, it's a great place to go to meet young, hip travellers like myself, but I shouldn't expect to shower. Oh, and they have a Volkswagon Beetle mounted to the wall. Be still my heart.

On my last day in Paris, I have plans to meet some other assistants at the Eiffel Tower. Could I ask for more? I get to meet people who are in this country, doing what I am so pumped to do, and see one of the most talked about sites in Paris at the same time! Genius. After that, I am off to my town, Lisieux. And that's where I start to freak a little, but only because I don't know exactly where I will be staying yet. There doesn't seem to be a hotel or hostel there that fits my budget. I did get a letter from the principal at my school that said I shouldn't worry and it seems that he will try to help me find some housing. So I guess the plan is to just show up with my bags and hope for the best.

It still doesn't feel real to me. Each time something happens - when I got my arrete de nomination, when I booked my plane ticket, when I reserved my hostel, even Monday when I went to get my visa from the consulate - France feels closer, but it still doesn't exactly feel like I'm going yet. I guess I won't get that feeling until I get on the plane next week.

I have so much left to take care of. First thing on my to-do list is to make a to-do list.