Rue du Château
That’s the name of the street I live on in Paris. Isn’t it so cute and cliché, like out of a storybook? I’ve been here 3 days so far and telling people I live on the street of castles never gets old.
Anyway, I meant to start this blog before I left, but I figure 3 days in isn’t too late, non? I’ll recap, cause I know you all care so much. (Also, I’m enjoying writing like I actually have readers, whereas right now I’m really just talking to Elaine, my sole tumblr follower!)
So I started packing the night before I left, in my standard last-minute fashion. Here’s a lovely photo of Charlie, who wanted to come with me:
After I kicked out my cat and stuffed in my clothes (two 51 pound suitcases), I drove to Dulles, flew to Heathrow, transferred to Charles de Gaulle, and arrived at la rue du Château. It was all pretty painless until I actually tried to get in the apartment building. The doors were locked, I couldn’t get the buzzer thing to work, my European cell phone didn’t have minutes on it yet, etc. Finally I stopped a random woman who was walking out of the building, explained to her my predicament in pretty shaky French, and she let me use her cell phone. So I called my host mom and her daughter came down and let me in, and voila!
I don’t know what everyone’s talking about re: rude, unhelpful French people. Everyone I’ve asked for help (no small number) has been pretty nice. I’ve probably just jinxed myself though.
My host family is also wonderful. It’s a single mom and a 10-year-old girl, whose first day of school is tomorrow. Maybe the girl is so nice to me because I brought her a Jonas Brothers CD. There are also 2 older sisters, 21 and 26, but they don’t really live here. The mom speaks a little English, but we communicate really well. She said I speak better French than the past 6 students she’s hosted, which is pretty scary.
Tomorrow we’re taking a placement test and that should properly deflate my ego.
My program is actually in English, and we had orientation today, so I spent most of the day speaking English. And when a few of us ventured into a cafe, and then a bar later, the waiters definitely made fun of our pathetic attempts at French. Mais c’est la vie.
I promise future posts will be shorter, and will show more of Paris and less of my cat. But I actually haven’t used my camera here yet, since it’s like 10 years old and about 50 pounds. I’ll deal with that tomorrow, and post some photos of my room and la rue du Château, so you can see it in all its cliché, storybook splendor. Plus, posting photos online is probably safer than skyping my family and holding the webcam precariously near the open, screenless window.
À Demain! (Maybe)
