Yesterday was my first French party, the celebration of my host sister's 17th birthday and her friend's 18th birthday. I learned that 18th birthdays in France are a combination of the American Sweet Sixteen and, since 18 is when they gain la majorité, the American 21st birthday.
On the whole, it was great to meat a lot of people before starting school (tomorrow!), but those of you who have ever had a sleepover with me won't be surprised when I say that I was ready to be finnished at midnight. However, the party was going strong until 5:00 in the morning, when everyone fell asleep in chairs or in sleeping bags scattered across the floor. With the clean up in the morning, we didn't actually leave until 1:00pm the next day.
Once I resigned myself too a long night, I was able to follow the crowd in the French dances. One of my favorite things to see was how they danced to the American song Cotton-Eyed Joe. I know that there is actually a choreographed dance to this song, since we were forced to learn it in 8th grade PE, but since nobody was familiar with the dance (or understood the lyrics), they made a tunnel of people holding hands, London Bridge-style, and as the two people at the end of the tunnel each ran through it to the other side, the tunnel snaked energetically around the dance floor. In general, many of the pople there were excited to meet the American. In fact, many attempted hilariously to speak in English with me, leading me to the conlusion that there is very little more difficult to understand than a drunk French teenager attemping to speak in English. Actually, thanks to American media, many of the kids there were surprised when they heard that I personnaly don't drink. But none of them cared enough to stop asking, variously, if I was proud to have a black president, if I played American football (miming a basball bat), if I was familiar with the names of different soccer players, and if I went the the beach a lot.
Yesterday was spent cleaning up and catching upsleep, and today, being my last day before school starts tomorrow, I am enjoying the quiet. In fact I though I might spend the time listing just a few of the cultural differences I have encountered so far.
1. Flip flops are worn in the house, but seldom outside of it. Once my host sister accidently left the house in her flip flops, and we had to drive home so that she could put on real shoes.
2. It is not uncommon to wear the same clothes for two days in a row. This isn't even rewearing jeans or a sweatshirt- the entire outfit, if it isn't stained or too wrinkled, is laid out at the end of the day, ready for the morning. It's not considered dirty- my host sister was the first person who I noticed to do it, and she is the only person I have ever met who brushes their teeth three time a day. (As a side note, there is zero truth to the stereotype that the French don't shower).
3. Since the roads are so small, drivers just park with two wheels on the sidewalk. In addition, I though the the California idea of following distance was nonexistant- but French drivers don't come to a halt until the front bumper is practially touching the bumber of the person in front of them.
4. It's all about the bread; there is baguette bread with every meal, and it is such a staple that it isn't even placed on the plate. Rather, it rests next to the plate and often used instead of a knife to push food on to the fork, and at the end of the meal is used to practically swab the plate down. For us, good bread it a part of the meal. Here, as far as I cam tell, it is almost one of the utensils used to eat the meal, and it just as common and necessary as water. In fact, today I discovered where the stale bread goes (since it is bought fresh everyday) in the house. In the garage by the recycling bin I found two enormous tote bags of the odds and ends of bread which hadn't been eaten before it went stale. (And the tote bags here are enormous, since they don't use paper or plastic shopping bags).
5. Those of you with rats and mice at home might be wondering at the wisdom of keeping that much stale bread lying around. However both those rodents, and one other pest have been pleasently absent to far. Dispite the standing water of the nearby marais, I have seen no mosquitos whatsoever. It is a mcuh appreciated absence especially after, for some of you, our night by Charlotte Lake not too long ago.
6. Everyone wears watches. Actually, because of this, I've noticed a lot fewer clocks around, so I'm going to need to get one too.
7. This may only be my host family, but they iron everything from T-shirts to jeans.
8. Pizza actually is eaten with a knife and fork. When I mentioned that it was my first time using utensils to eat pizza, I was greated with surprise. "Even at resaurants?" asked my host mother.
9. On the topic of food, I haven't seen any grilled meat so far. At home, something comes off the barbeque nearly every night during the summer and frequently during the winter. Here however, meat is fried in about a quarter cup of melted butter in a frying pan. At the end of the cooking process, both sides are sprinkled with salt, garlic powder, and dried basil. Simple, and very, very good.
10. There is just as much subtlety to the bises and handshakes (kisses on the cheek) used for greeting and good-byes are there are to the hugs and handshakes used at home. Women and women do bisous with eachother, as do women and men. Men shake hands, for the most part. However, you know the hankshake-hug-backslap that men who are good friends do? Replace the hug-backslap with a bise, and you have the French version!
Monday, September 5, 2011
Thursday, September 1, 2011
The First Week
My goal for this last week has been to familiarize myself with Saint-Doulchard and Bourges, and I think that I'm well on my way to starting to feel a little more at home. The day before yesterday, I succeeded in getting a library card from the local library. It's within walking distance, so going back and forth helps me get to know the neighborhood a little bit better. I've been missing having something to read, because, though I brought some books from home, I don't want to get lost in the English language until I'm a little more secure in my language skills. I've been reading the Tintin and Asterix books in my room, but as comforting as it is to see familiar faces, I've been worrying about learning French from the likes of Thomson and Thompson (or Dupont and Dupond, here).
I've also been running, because I find that I'm less likely to feel frustrated or homesick if I exercise, and I gained a fairly good knowledge of the neighborhood and a reputation as being 'sportive'- I'm not the only runner I've seen out, but so far I haven't seen any other girls or teenagers.
I've also got my bus pass, which I'll use to get to and from school for the rest of the year, and a map of the towns so that I can orient myself. Give me a mode of transportation, a map, and a library card and I'm ready to conquer the world!
Last night, I met my host Rotary for the first time. There was a delicious dinner outside with a view of the marais (marshes which were trained into lush canals centuries ago for the use of fertile marshland and as a part of the towns fortifications; they are now maintained as the city's main greenspace). I absolutly love my host Rotary club! They are friendly lively, and perhaps a little bit insane (there were a number of costumes present for the dinner- orange and pink wigs, and at least one fake mustache- all mixed in among the respectability of the rest of the club). They introduced me as a new member of the Rotary club, and I'm now looking forward to attending the weekly Tuesday night meetings. In fact, it's a pleasure to be hosted by such an interesting and involved club because I've heard from other students, returning from previous years, who had little to no contact with their hosting Rotary club during their exchange. At the same party I met my second and third host families, who I liked immediatly. They were as excited to meet me as I was to meet them, and they were fascinating to talk to during dinner. Not to jinx anything, but I think I may have had more luck than is fair for this exchange!
I've also been running, because I find that I'm less likely to feel frustrated or homesick if I exercise, and I gained a fairly good knowledge of the neighborhood and a reputation as being 'sportive'- I'm not the only runner I've seen out, but so far I haven't seen any other girls or teenagers.
I've also got my bus pass, which I'll use to get to and from school for the rest of the year, and a map of the towns so that I can orient myself. Give me a mode of transportation, a map, and a library card and I'm ready to conquer the world!
Last night, I met my host Rotary for the first time. There was a delicious dinner outside with a view of the marais (marshes which were trained into lush canals centuries ago for the use of fertile marshland and as a part of the towns fortifications; they are now maintained as the city's main greenspace). I absolutly love my host Rotary club! They are friendly lively, and perhaps a little bit insane (there were a number of costumes present for the dinner- orange and pink wigs, and at least one fake mustache- all mixed in among the respectability of the rest of the club). They introduced me as a new member of the Rotary club, and I'm now looking forward to attending the weekly Tuesday night meetings. In fact, it's a pleasure to be hosted by such an interesting and involved club because I've heard from other students, returning from previous years, who had little to no contact with their hosting Rotary club during their exchange. At the same party I met my second and third host families, who I liked immediatly. They were as excited to meet me as I was to meet them, and they were fascinating to talk to during dinner. Not to jinx anything, but I think I may have had more luck than is fair for this exchange!
Monday, August 29, 2011
Why don't their mouths match the words?!
As I type this, Wizards of Waverly Place is playing in the background. I just came home from seeing the movie 'One Day' at the movie theater (which I highly recommend, by the way). I guess that Anne Hathaway and Selena Gomez learned French while I was on the plane, because they're suddenly very fluent. In addition, quite a bit of music here is American pop. We were listening to Madonna was on the radio on the way home from the movie theater, and I'm pretty sure that my host father and possibly host sister had no idea what the phrase "like a virgin" meant.
Since my host sister's birthday was yesterday, my family had a big lunch with all the extended family that could come. I met her sister and her beau-frere (brother-in-law), who have a baby due in October, her cousin and her cousin's boyfriend, and her grandparents. I mentioned that lunch is the biggest meal of the day in my last blog, but I didn't explain the real difference between U.S. and French eating schedules. Here, breakfast is light, with fruit, yogurt, bread, cereal, etc. It's a "continental breakfast", you know, the type that hotels promise free of charge and usually ends up being some toast and a hard-boiled egg, if you're lucky. This light fare is dubbed "continental" since, off the Euporean continent, the British Isles perfer a hardier start to the day. Of course, the breakfast here is quite a few notches above Best Western's standard, light as it is. Then comes lunch, the meal with the most ceremony and preparation, often eaten with wine and then cheese, desert, and/or coffee afterward. Dinner is a small meal eaten late, 8:00 or 9:00 pm. For the last two nights we've had French dried sausage, cheese, and bread for dinner- delicieux!!
All this explanation helps to understand the birthday party that was thrown, it was just like a big family dinner, but in the middle of the day. We had hors d'ouvres, a main course (replete with green beans from the grandparent's garden), and cupcakes for desert. I had by first (very small) glass of wine, which I have to say, I wasn't at all taken with. Since my palate is totally unnacustomed to acohol, it was all I could taste, and I felt like I was drinking a cleaning product. Everyone was warm and talkative, give my host sister their best wishes. Her grandfather was especially interesting to talk to, mainly because I couldn't understand a word he said. Bourges and Saint-Doulchard are located in the region of Berry, and he is one of the last speakers of the dialecte berruchon. Everything he said was with a warmly rolling but absolutly impenetrable accent. After lunch, we sat around the kitchen table pinching off the tops and ends of a basket of green beans, and they taught me different words in berruchon.
Today for lunch, I went with my host sister to one of her friend's house. My friends reading this know that if I invite them over for lunch, they really can't expect anything more than leftovers or maybe Kraft macaroni and cheese. In any case, lunch chez moi certainly never includes pink wine with grenadine (which, I'm sure the Rotarians out there are wondering, I only tasted), fresh cooked pasta with meatballs and mushrooms in sauce, and an espresso after. Not to mention the last of the cupcakes, a much appreciated novelty to all!
-to interpose on my account of events, I just took a break for a nice dinner of green beans (the same as mentioned above) and fresh tomatoes from the garden in vinagarette, with bread, as always. Yes, Mom, I even like the tomatoes here! Then cheese- I learned that the trick to eating strong cheese is to eat it with butter in addition to bread. You can see how I had trouble at first, eating in a land where you take your cheese with butter. Then strawberries, also from the garden, with sugar. I hope that your stomaches are all rumbling with jealousy!-
After we finnished lunch, my host sisters friends, to my great interested and surprise, took out little bags of tobacco and started rolling their own cigarettes while they waited for the coffee to be ready. Then we ajourned to repose outside on the sunny steps of the house, so that they could smoke and enjoy their coffee. When I asked if their parents knew that they smoked I recieved mainly no's, but also some yes's. As to why they rolled their own cigarettes, it is apparently far less expensive. I was also informed that I would see at school a cloud of smoke hovering over every break.
When out with my friends at home, as you may know, it is not far out of place to wrinkle your nose pointedly when the smell of cigarette smoke drifts through an otherwise pleasent gathering. But I must be getting used to the smell, because I hardly notice if a new acquaintence greets me with the usual bises (kisses on the cheek), a trail of smoke streaming lazily from their mouth.
Since my host sister's birthday was yesterday, my family had a big lunch with all the extended family that could come. I met her sister and her beau-frere (brother-in-law), who have a baby due in October, her cousin and her cousin's boyfriend, and her grandparents. I mentioned that lunch is the biggest meal of the day in my last blog, but I didn't explain the real difference between U.S. and French eating schedules. Here, breakfast is light, with fruit, yogurt, bread, cereal, etc. It's a "continental breakfast", you know, the type that hotels promise free of charge and usually ends up being some toast and a hard-boiled egg, if you're lucky. This light fare is dubbed "continental" since, off the Euporean continent, the British Isles perfer a hardier start to the day. Of course, the breakfast here is quite a few notches above Best Western's standard, light as it is. Then comes lunch, the meal with the most ceremony and preparation, often eaten with wine and then cheese, desert, and/or coffee afterward. Dinner is a small meal eaten late, 8:00 or 9:00 pm. For the last two nights we've had French dried sausage, cheese, and bread for dinner- delicieux!!
All this explanation helps to understand the birthday party that was thrown, it was just like a big family dinner, but in the middle of the day. We had hors d'ouvres, a main course (replete with green beans from the grandparent's garden), and cupcakes for desert. I had by first (very small) glass of wine, which I have to say, I wasn't at all taken with. Since my palate is totally unnacustomed to acohol, it was all I could taste, and I felt like I was drinking a cleaning product. Everyone was warm and talkative, give my host sister their best wishes. Her grandfather was especially interesting to talk to, mainly because I couldn't understand a word he said. Bourges and Saint-Doulchard are located in the region of Berry, and he is one of the last speakers of the dialecte berruchon. Everything he said was with a warmly rolling but absolutly impenetrable accent. After lunch, we sat around the kitchen table pinching off the tops and ends of a basket of green beans, and they taught me different words in berruchon.
Today for lunch, I went with my host sister to one of her friend's house. My friends reading this know that if I invite them over for lunch, they really can't expect anything more than leftovers or maybe Kraft macaroni and cheese. In any case, lunch chez moi certainly never includes pink wine with grenadine (which, I'm sure the Rotarians out there are wondering, I only tasted), fresh cooked pasta with meatballs and mushrooms in sauce, and an espresso after. Not to mention the last of the cupcakes, a much appreciated novelty to all!
-to interpose on my account of events, I just took a break for a nice dinner of green beans (the same as mentioned above) and fresh tomatoes from the garden in vinagarette, with bread, as always. Yes, Mom, I even like the tomatoes here! Then cheese- I learned that the trick to eating strong cheese is to eat it with butter in addition to bread. You can see how I had trouble at first, eating in a land where you take your cheese with butter. Then strawberries, also from the garden, with sugar. I hope that your stomaches are all rumbling with jealousy!-
After we finnished lunch, my host sisters friends, to my great interested and surprise, took out little bags of tobacco and started rolling their own cigarettes while they waited for the coffee to be ready. Then we ajourned to repose outside on the sunny steps of the house, so that they could smoke and enjoy their coffee. When I asked if their parents knew that they smoked I recieved mainly no's, but also some yes's. As to why they rolled their own cigarettes, it is apparently far less expensive. I was also informed that I would see at school a cloud of smoke hovering over every break.
When out with my friends at home, as you may know, it is not far out of place to wrinkle your nose pointedly when the smell of cigarette smoke drifts through an otherwise pleasent gathering. But I must be getting used to the smell, because I hardly notice if a new acquaintence greets me with the usual bises (kisses on the cheek), a trail of smoke streaming lazily from their mouth.
Saturday, August 27, 2011
The First Four Days in France
Has it only been four days? It feels like a month at least! I've already noticed improvment day-to-day in speaking and comprehension. I carry a small purple notebook with me so that I can ask people to spell words and write them down phonetically to look up later, since I've realized that I'm much more visual when it comes to building vocabulary. My host family is kind enough to tell people we meet that I'm good at French, but I think that sets the expectation a little higher than I would like- I still very much appreciated when people speak slowly. I never realized how intuitive language is to native speakers until I wasn't one; I was discussing the difference between 'bon' and 'bien' with my host sister (bien is an adverb, not a adjective, but that's harder to remember while conversing), and the way she explained it was: "When there's something 'bon', you say it's 'bon' and when there's something 'bien', you say it's 'bien' " ...oh thanks, I'll just keep that in mind.
But it's really wonderful to be here; there was certainly a surreal moment when I was walking down the cobblestone street filled with medieval buildings, well preserved and now hosting chic boutiques, listening to my host sister and her friends chattering in French (and joining in, as I could) and I thought, 'wait- this is normal now?!'. The teenagers I've met, my host sister's friends, have all been really friendly and fairly easy to talk to. The town of Bourges, which is easy to reach by bus, from Saint-Doulchard is very historic, with Gallo-Roman ramparts or Renaissance-era mansions at every turn. In fact, the downtown area is mostly contained within the ancient forifications of the original Roman town, but, fascinatingly, you can seen how the town grew over time because the Gothic architecture, of which the local cathedral, la Cathedral Saint-Etienne, is a famed example, is located nearly at the outskirts of the Gallo-Roman boundries.
Today, I went for a bike ride in the morning with my host father, it was over-cast but still beautiful. Queen Anne's Lace is abundant here, along with dandelions and clover. (One of my favorite new words is the one for dandelions: boutons d'or, or golden buttons). One man who was walking through the park said bonjour to us as we went by, and once we had passed him, my host father told me that it was the mayor of Bourges. He was out for a morning walk, wearing a black beret and giving a friendly hello to the other passersby who had woken up early.
I hope that all of you are doing well at home, especially my friends and family on the East Coast. One of the weirdest things so far has been watching two natural disasters occur at home, while I'm in a foreign country. I just wish the French news would stop dubbing over Obama and the Americans they interview on the street- but I guess that's all part of the experience. Tonight, we had the news on in the background while making cupcakes for my host sister's birthday tomorrow. It was their first time making cupcakes, and my first time measuring all the ingredients everything in grams and militers, so all things considered, they turned out pretty well.
One of the harder things to adjust to has been the food. Don't get me wrong, everything here is as delicious as reputed, but it turns out that it's because the French don't exactly scrimp on adding butter and salt. It's rich enough that I had a very low grade nausea for the last few days, but now I'm feeling better so I hope that I've adjusted and can enjoy the food with gusto. (It also took me a while to realized that lunch is th biggest meal of the day, but now I'm adjusting to that too).
I actually can't wait for school to start. It's nice to have an adjustment period, but I also can't wait to have a routine and really get my year underway!
But it's really wonderful to be here; there was certainly a surreal moment when I was walking down the cobblestone street filled with medieval buildings, well preserved and now hosting chic boutiques, listening to my host sister and her friends chattering in French (and joining in, as I could) and I thought, 'wait- this is normal now?!'. The teenagers I've met, my host sister's friends, have all been really friendly and fairly easy to talk to. The town of Bourges, which is easy to reach by bus, from Saint-Doulchard is very historic, with Gallo-Roman ramparts or Renaissance-era mansions at every turn. In fact, the downtown area is mostly contained within the ancient forifications of the original Roman town, but, fascinatingly, you can seen how the town grew over time because the Gothic architecture, of which the local cathedral, la Cathedral Saint-Etienne, is a famed example, is located nearly at the outskirts of the Gallo-Roman boundries.
Today, I went for a bike ride in the morning with my host father, it was over-cast but still beautiful. Queen Anne's Lace is abundant here, along with dandelions and clover. (One of my favorite new words is the one for dandelions: boutons d'or, or golden buttons). One man who was walking through the park said bonjour to us as we went by, and once we had passed him, my host father told me that it was the mayor of Bourges. He was out for a morning walk, wearing a black beret and giving a friendly hello to the other passersby who had woken up early.
I hope that all of you are doing well at home, especially my friends and family on the East Coast. One of the weirdest things so far has been watching two natural disasters occur at home, while I'm in a foreign country. I just wish the French news would stop dubbing over Obama and the Americans they interview on the street- but I guess that's all part of the experience. Tonight, we had the news on in the background while making cupcakes for my host sister's birthday tomorrow. It was their first time making cupcakes, and my first time measuring all the ingredients everything in grams and militers, so all things considered, they turned out pretty well.
One of the harder things to adjust to has been the food. Don't get me wrong, everything here is as delicious as reputed, but it turns out that it's because the French don't exactly scrimp on adding butter and salt. It's rich enough that I had a very low grade nausea for the last few days, but now I'm feeling better so I hope that I've adjusted and can enjoy the food with gusto. (It also took me a while to realized that lunch is th biggest meal of the day, but now I'm adjusting to that too).
I actually can't wait for school to start. It's nice to have an adjustment period, but I also can't wait to have a routine and really get my year underway!
Wednesday, August 24, 2011
I'm here!
The airports good-byes were tearful and the flight was long... but I'm here! As it would turn out, the name of my blog is misleading. I'm actually living in Saint-Doulchard, which is a small town, situated close enough to Bourges for them to bleed into each other a little bit.
I was picked up by the amazing Rotary youth coordinater from my host club, Jacques and his friend Ann Marie. They were wonderful, even though I was too tired to string a sentance together in French, I felt completely welcome. In fact, we made a detour through Paris to give me a "preview" of the sights by car... so just four hours after my plane touched down I had already caught a glimpse of Les Invalides, L'Arc de Triomphe, the Eiffel Towel, la Seine, and several other momuments. These others slip my memory mainly because I was busy trying to hold onto my lunch (it was airplane food) as we swerved wildly through the Parisian traffic. I thought the Bay Area was bad... I don't think I dug my fingnails out of my knee until we were a half hour out of the city! But on the whole my befuddled first impression of Paris is decidedly favorable.
After a three hour drive (I slept for the first half and my second-ever cup of coffee at a lunch stop kept me awake for the second half), we finally arrived in the lovely Saint-Doulchard! I haven't seen any of the city besides my host family's neighborhood but that alone is charming enough for me. All the houses are bigger than my neighborhood in Davis, but they all match with smoot white walls. The sidewalks run outside of the yards which are walled in. It sounds unfriendly but is actually quite sweet. To give you an idea, my room has shutters on the window! It's on the second story, and I can throw them open in the morning and overlook the backyard (with a pool) and the neighborhood as it climbs up onto a hill.
My host family is wonderful... my host parents are welcoming as can be and my host sister is as bright and friendly as can be. I feel completely welcome. Not only that, but I can understand almost everything they say. Replying is harder, but I'm encouraged by the fact that they can understand me too. I'll learn fast, but it will be alwhile before I reach any semblance of eloquence in this new language. We had delicious cordon bleu for dinner and french bread, followed by french cheese, and a peach tart my host sister made in honor of my arrival. She also printed out pictures from my facebook page and framed them in my room, to make me feel at home! Have you ever heard of anything so sweet? And the icing on top was that when I opened a cupboard in my room I found a stack of my favorite copies of Tintin! ... Did my plane crash and send me to heaven?!
Apparently not, since my eyelids are drooping enough to tell me to sign off. Lots of love!
I was picked up by the amazing Rotary youth coordinater from my host club, Jacques and his friend Ann Marie. They were wonderful, even though I was too tired to string a sentance together in French, I felt completely welcome. In fact, we made a detour through Paris to give me a "preview" of the sights by car... so just four hours after my plane touched down I had already caught a glimpse of Les Invalides, L'Arc de Triomphe, the Eiffel Towel, la Seine, and several other momuments. These others slip my memory mainly because I was busy trying to hold onto my lunch (it was airplane food) as we swerved wildly through the Parisian traffic. I thought the Bay Area was bad... I don't think I dug my fingnails out of my knee until we were a half hour out of the city! But on the whole my befuddled first impression of Paris is decidedly favorable.
After a three hour drive (I slept for the first half and my second-ever cup of coffee at a lunch stop kept me awake for the second half), we finally arrived in the lovely Saint-Doulchard! I haven't seen any of the city besides my host family's neighborhood but that alone is charming enough for me. All the houses are bigger than my neighborhood in Davis, but they all match with smoot white walls. The sidewalks run outside of the yards which are walled in. It sounds unfriendly but is actually quite sweet. To give you an idea, my room has shutters on the window! It's on the second story, and I can throw them open in the morning and overlook the backyard (with a pool) and the neighborhood as it climbs up onto a hill.
My host family is wonderful... my host parents are welcoming as can be and my host sister is as bright and friendly as can be. I feel completely welcome. Not only that, but I can understand almost everything they say. Replying is harder, but I'm encouraged by the fact that they can understand me too. I'll learn fast, but it will be alwhile before I reach any semblance of eloquence in this new language. We had delicious cordon bleu for dinner and french bread, followed by french cheese, and a peach tart my host sister made in honor of my arrival. She also printed out pictures from my facebook page and framed them in my room, to make me feel at home! Have you ever heard of anything so sweet? And the icing on top was that when I opened a cupboard in my room I found a stack of my favorite copies of Tintin! ... Did my plane crash and send me to heaven?!
Apparently not, since my eyelids are drooping enough to tell me to sign off. Lots of love!
Monday, August 22, 2011
Countdown: 19 Hours to Go
My last night in Davis... I spent the day taking pictures of Davis with a friend of mine. Hopefully, they will fun to show people once I reach France. In any case, I'm going to be giving a presentation to my host Rotary club about Davis sometime after arrival, so the pictures will come in handy!
I have the most wonderful friends- it was with their help I was able to pack my entire wardrobe and all necessities into these two small suitcases for an entire year. Since I've seen some people (you know who you are) pack twice this much for a week long trip, I'm just hoping that I haven't left out anything important. You know how you sometimes get a song stuck in your head? For the last few days a mantra has been running in the back of my mind- "passport, passport copy, extra socks, laptop charger, headlamp... wait... scratch the headlamp". Now that I'm packed it's stopped and the silence would be a little bit eery, except that I've started to translate everything I say into French my head as soon as I say it out loud! I guess that's what they call mental preparation.
The results of my packing (the backpack is half empty):
In other news, the exchange student from Brazil, Rodrigo (Digo) arrived a few days ago to stay with my family. He'll be here for 3-4 months, and for that reason every drawer and table in my room is emptier than ever before, ready for him to move in. So far I've been taking notes... as long as I'm friendly and talkative (and ready to try everything from cross-country practice to peanutbutter), I should fit in fine in France.
Here's a shot of some of my friends and Digo hanging out, Peter was there but got cut out of the picture...
The good-byes so far have been hard (though they won't compare to those at the airport, I'm sure)... but I'm just about as ready as I can be!
I have the most wonderful friends- it was with their help I was able to pack my entire wardrobe and all necessities into these two small suitcases for an entire year. Since I've seen some people (you know who you are) pack twice this much for a week long trip, I'm just hoping that I haven't left out anything important. You know how you sometimes get a song stuck in your head? For the last few days a mantra has been running in the back of my mind- "passport, passport copy, extra socks, laptop charger, headlamp... wait... scratch the headlamp". Now that I'm packed it's stopped and the silence would be a little bit eery, except that I've started to translate everything I say into French my head as soon as I say it out loud! I guess that's what they call mental preparation.
The results of my packing (the backpack is half empty):
In other news, the exchange student from Brazil, Rodrigo (Digo) arrived a few days ago to stay with my family. He'll be here for 3-4 months, and for that reason every drawer and table in my room is emptier than ever before, ready for him to move in. So far I've been taking notes... as long as I'm friendly and talkative (and ready to try everything from cross-country practice to peanutbutter), I should fit in fine in France.
Here's a shot of some of my friends and Digo hanging out, Peter was there but got cut out of the picture...
The good-byes so far have been hard (though they won't compare to those at the airport, I'm sure)... but I'm just about as ready as I can be!
Monday, August 8, 2011
Countdown: 15 Days to Go
Well, I got my visa just a few days ago! It only took a mountain of paperwork and an in person interview at the San Francisco consulat. Luckily, I didn't have to fly in from Idaho or Montana, like a few outbounds I met there. We were relieved to find that the consulat had been working with Rotary long enough to speed us through the intviews. It may not be over though, as I was reading the print on my immigration form and it said I may need a medical examination on arrival and/or another interview (!). Not to worry though, there's never been a problem for exchange students before... I guess the French government just likes to be thorough.
Now I just have to wait for my flight details, which both I and my host families are anxious for. Besides that, I'm just twiddling my thumbs until the departure date- and already packing! But there's still plenty to get ready. I've made fistfulls of pins to give to other exchange students, which we exchange and pins on our Rotary blazers during the year. Some of the rebound students I've seen coming home look like they would probably sink if they fell in the water with their pin collection on them! I also have some nice gifts to give to my host families on arrival- Jelly Bellies and Ghirardelli chocolats in a mason jar, with a gingham kitchen towel. It seemed appropriatly North Californian/American.
I've been in contact with at least one person from all three of my host families, and I have to say that they have been so friendly and excited to get to know me that I have absolutly no qualms about meeting them- in fact, I'm very excited. So far everybody, from the French Rotarians to my host families has been beyond welcoming and helpful, and I can only hope they're as pleased about me as I am about them! It's been very reassuring to get to know the Rotarians, especially my host YEO, as I've heard stories about outbound students who have had no contact with their host Rotary whatsoever during the exchange year.
Practicing my French has been another summer preparation activity for me, and I found that watching movies like Star Wars in French has helped immensly. I now know such useful phrases as Jedi Master Yoda, Death Star, and "May the Force be with you". Hopefully that's all I'll need!
The next time you hear from me on this blog will most likely be my departure, so until then, au revoir!
Now I just have to wait for my flight details, which both I and my host families are anxious for. Besides that, I'm just twiddling my thumbs until the departure date- and already packing! But there's still plenty to get ready. I've made fistfulls of pins to give to other exchange students, which we exchange and pins on our Rotary blazers during the year. Some of the rebound students I've seen coming home look like they would probably sink if they fell in the water with their pin collection on them! I also have some nice gifts to give to my host families on arrival- Jelly Bellies and Ghirardelli chocolats in a mason jar, with a gingham kitchen towel. It seemed appropriatly North Californian/American.
I've been in contact with at least one person from all three of my host families, and I have to say that they have been so friendly and excited to get to know me that I have absolutly no qualms about meeting them- in fact, I'm very excited. So far everybody, from the French Rotarians to my host families has been beyond welcoming and helpful, and I can only hope they're as pleased about me as I am about them! It's been very reassuring to get to know the Rotarians, especially my host YEO, as I've heard stories about outbound students who have had no contact with their host Rotary whatsoever during the exchange year.
Practicing my French has been another summer preparation activity for me, and I found that watching movies like Star Wars in French has helped immensly. I now know such useful phrases as Jedi Master Yoda, Death Star, and "May the Force be with you". Hopefully that's all I'll need!
The next time you hear from me on this blog will most likely be my departure, so until then, au revoir!
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