Day 12 - i'm tired.

Today I got up early to accompany Nathalie to the French equivalent of the mall. I've already forgotten the name of the place. She went to get her hair done and I walked around and pretended to shop. All of the stores were pretty expensive, on top of the lousy exchange rate. I avoided all of the sales people so I wouldn't have to look stupid and it worked in all but one store where one of the girls caught me and asked if I wanted to try it on. I politely gave her a blank stare then stammered I didn't speak French. So, she asked me in English. Vive la France. When Nathalie was through we did go into a more moderately priced store and I purchased a cute shirt and even cuter scarf ( I told Nathalie it was so I could at least look french).

When we got home we lunched then I went with Dominique on some stories. First we visited a Dog Competition, or so we though. Apparently the dog show/competition was tomorrow, but there were still a few people there so he could get a story and picture. Next we headed to a private primary school function sort of akin to a kids carnival in which a few classes of children gave performances. I'll have to say, even though I didn't understand it they were pretty cute. This was one of those things were the children look absolutely ridiculous and they will hate their parents later in life for photographing this event.These kids are going to hate it when the photo albums get busted out for the girlfriends. Yeah, that's hot chocolate on their heads. And yes, it took me until the encore to figure that out.

The last stop was an ancient (no, really) brick making. There was some sort of festival celebrating the property and the proprietors who are all like 5th generation brick makers (if I understood him right, which I probably didn't). It was still fun to see the kiln where the bricks cooked and an assortment of pottery that has been made over the hundreds of years. I'm pretty sure he made fun of me and the fact that his bricks were as old as my country. Vive la France.
That's the kiln thing. From inside it looked like a pretty mean spider hang out.
We went home for a little while, then picked up Simon their son. After le dîner we went to a inter mural basketball tournament that practically every person in the town my age attended, as well as their parents. (so basically the whole town was there, so it seemed). Back home an event like this would cater maybe bottled water and hot dogs. Not here. We had a concession stand with crepes and white wine with strawberries in it. Everybody was drinking and playing basketball, having a gay 'ol time. After two of these I was ready for bed. I'm pretty sure that wine/strawberry combination was stronger than any mystery drink I've had at UW frat party (and that stuff is deadly, obviously, how else do they get girls?). I was ready for bed at midnight, but they told me the festivities would probably continue until 3 am. The French really know how to party and get down, and stay up late. We went home, thankfully because Simon was tired, too, and not just because I'm a lame American.Yay! Go Green.. or orange.. who cares? Everybody's drunk!

It was a very busy day, to say the least.

Day onze - That's 11 in french..

Thursdays are when all of the supermarket ads come out (Like Wednesdays, at home) so I sat through breakfast and read the 2 different store ads. They are definitely not like home. If I was to read an Albertson's or Safeway ad there would be four or so newspaper sized pages full of little pictures of what is on sale for the week. It's not like that here. The French SuperU and InterMarche (yeah, the only two in this area) are more like magazines and each page has like 4 big pictures of things. I'm probably the only person on the planet who cares about that, probably because i've worked in the Grocery industry for too long, too. Whatever. I thought it was neat.

I also think I am going through a sugar withdrawal. I haven't had a single sweet thing since I've been here except for one Mars bar with Mathilde the other day. It's pretty weird and I've been craving sweets all day. I'm pretty sure my parents are going to mail me some candies. Gotta love the parents.

The biggest fun of the day? THE FRENCH LOVE COUNTRY WESTERN LINE DANCING. No kidding! Dominique did an article for it and I tagged along because I didn't believe him. There was a whole club for line dancing - the hats, boots and Brad Paisley blaring on the boom box! I would of thought I was back in Kentucky in a barn on some hick farm except they were all yabbering in French. I was stunned, I wish I would have remembered my camera.

The other thing I found noteworthy is how impressed the French are with anybody who speaks English. An English couple walked by and stopped to watch this special dancing when one of the dancers ran in and pulled me out because I could speak English and therefore communicate with them. The poor couple took this pleasantly, seeing as one of the overzealous girls introduced her to the whole board of the club and made them come in and watch from inside. They pretty much held this poor couple hostage. I got a good giggle.

Oh, I forgot. I also had a pretty good English lesson yesterday! When we watched the football match I taught them all of the words for everything soccer related in English. I also began the task of teaching past, present, and future tenses of verbs...

Days 9 & 10 - Humidity and I are not friends.

I hate the humidity, still. I have a feeling this will be a mutual relationship for the duration of my stay.

I didn't do a damn thing all day - both days!

It was fabulous.

It's still humid as Hell.

Day 8 - I made it a week!

Hur-ray! I've survived my first week in France.

I've been absolutely lazy alllll day! And it's fantastic. The weather is awesome, and I think it's almost 80 degrees, but who knows because I suck at the Metric system. I slept in, then relaxed on the patio all day in the sun, I have a half assed tan to prove it. I'll have to fix this proper tomorrow and actually not roll my pants up, but instead wear shorts.

We watched the football match (soccer) this evening, France vs. Bulgaria. I'm getting into this sports thing, and i'm even starting to learn the players. The French take football and their team very seriously. I might have to sleep in the garage with Noisette if I disagree.

Day 7 - Dimanche.. the day of rest?

They all called me Paris 'ilton (they don't pronounce h's) because of my stunner shades.

the plan today was to hit the beach (not to be confused with bitch, which is what it sounds like with their accents). It wasn't very sunny and kind of windy, but I agreed. I ended waking up before everybody since they didn't get to bed until 5 am.

I finished my book.

They all drink Coke ("coca") for hangovers. Strange.

We had Chinois food for lunch. Spring rolls and lettuce. It was bon.

A pretty tight carousel. The closest I've come to a pony in France so far.

The beach = awesome. it's just like California! ..at least when it's warm. We also had "the worlds best ice cream" (according to Lise) and it was actually very good. I even sort of ordered it by myself. My french still sucks.
Ok, so of course when I decide to take a picture it clouds up. It was really nice and sunny. Promise.

Made dinner and hit the hay early.

Day 6 - Christophe Mae

I promised Lise that by time September 3 rolled around I would know every Christophe Mae song there is. That was probably a bad bet. I'm already regretting it.

Today the girls showed me l'autobus and the route that is best from Saint Ave to Vannes. I'm such a big girl. We went shopping in Vannes and I used my first French ATM. I'm scared to see how much my bank charged me for that ATM fee.

Tonight was a B-B-Q to celebrate some friends birthday and as a pre-funk some girls came over to Mathilde and Lise's house for champagne. It was also time for them to ask every question they could think of for English words from what sounds our animals made (they got the biggest kick out of the sound a frog makes) and the words Dildo and Hooker (thanks SATC).

I was nervous for the BBQ since it would be a group of people my age who don't speak English and expect me to understand them talking a million miles an hour in French. A dictionary was definitely placed on the table the whole night. I was assured though, that my american accend was "cute" and they kept making me repeat after them. It could have been worse I suppose. Caro gave me a vocab lesson in French (she was level 1 "tipsy" <- another favorite English word, after Dildo) and pointed to everything in sight and made me say the word in french. I passed. I did slip up and call her hair the plural for horse (gimme a break, it's like a one letter difference). She was also very interested in what the Americans thought of the French, like stereotypes. Um.. rude? drunks? smelly and unshaven? She concurred. At least of Parisians. I was falling asleep at around 1 am and was walked home. I was told later the bbq lasted until like 4 am. These kids are nuts. they also sing really strange songs about pastors daughters masturbating.. I didn't quite understand.

Silly French.

Day 5 - What do I miss the most, so far?

I'm getting in the hang of eating breakfast everyday. It's strange to come from the habit of skipping this important meal for being too busy or sleeping in too late to the point where breakfast inevitably becomes lunch. The French are very serious about their breakfasts to the point where I skipped it yesterday and Nathalie asked if I was sick. It's not such a bad meal, though. Today I had my special K and a crêpe. Très bien!

The other thing that will take getting used to is the shower. When my parents asked me what I missed most about home, this was close to topping the list. It came in close second under English. It is small and basically just a bathtub. I haven't quite figured out yet how to gracefully bathe myself without getting water all over the bathroom floor.

I came in handy today when my host père, Dominique accidentally booked a flight on Travelocity for his son to the wrong airport. How was he supposed to know that there are two portlands? His english isn't the best so I helped him sort out the problem. I'm ever so helpful. I could have probably warned him to begin with. C'est la vie.

With the time difference, the only time I get to talk to my friends is when they are drunk on their computers at 3 am. Or, at work early in the morning. Boo.

Pandora doesn't like the French. This makes me very sad. No more "Songs to eat tacos by" radio. ::le sob::

My host parents are going to Oslo for the week to visit an old exchange student they had. House to myself! I now know how to work all of the appliances in the house from the mechanical window shades to the espresso maker and everything in between.

Mathilde's friend/roommate drives a ford fiesta. I'm not sure whether to laugh or decline rides and choose to walk everywhere for fear of blowing up. They call it the "Ferrari"

Day 4 - Mustard

I brought my own mustard to France. On suspicions that were later confirmed at the supermarché, the French do not have plain mustard. I wish I would have brought the Costco size. While eating lunch I put some mustard on my food and Dominique asked to try it. Nathalie just watched looking rather amused. He put a pin point drop on his plate, eyed it, then put the slightest amount on his tongue. He hated it. They make fun of me even more now and ask if I want to put it on everything, including the cheese course. Ugh.

Today was the official tour of Vannes, on foot. We walked around the whole interior of the city that was built in the middle ages. Pictures are on Facebook.

Dominique also asked if I like Greenday (GweeenDay). I told him not really, but I had the album on my ipod (eepod). He loved all my music, especially the rap. France is tight.

Day 3 - Getting used to French Life...

The French are very busy, among other things. This morning Dominique (my host père) gave me un petit tour of the city of Vannes, the place I see out my window. It was nice. The town is cute, and everything is set around the town center that was built in the middle ages. The French are also very serious about their petite-déjeuner (lunch). Everyday, Nathalie (my host mère) comes home from work and we eat lunch. I'm just getting used to eating a breakfast, which they insist on. And again, lunch is a three course affair. It's nuts.

They have the cutest cat, Noisette. It couldn't give a damn about me, but at meals it sits on the bench with me and rests it's head on the table top. It doesn't beg for food or anything. It just sits there. Chillin'.Meow, meow. Le minou, Noisette.

For dîner, we had couscous. Now, in French class in high school this was a rice looking dish that we had to bring a can of soup to accompany it with. Not in real France. Here it's a soupy mixture of some spicy sausage, sheep and chicken. That goes on top of the rice looking stuff. I didn't try the spicy sausage, my famille warned me not to, but the sheep was good. Baahhh.

I think I mentioned how sarcastic my famille is, like me, but boy do I get made fun of a lot. A friend of Dominique's came over and did nothing but make fun of me the whole time (and americans en general). I just smile and act like I don't understand. He stayed though until past 10 o'clock (22 o'clock, here) and I was really tired and just wanted to go to bed. But now, café after café.. The French are very social.

We also went to the supermarché. I forgot about that. It's not like our grocery stores at all. It reminds me more so of a little costco. There is more than food, but nothing is in bulk of course. The French go shopping everyday and make enough food at meals for the one time, maybe a few leftovers for lunch the next day. It was a trip. Oh, and the checkers get to sit in chairs. I'm going to pass this on when I get home and back to work.

Something I'm not that fond of is how interested the French are in American Politics. I hate politics as it is, but they all ask me about Obama (then they chant Obama! Obama! Obama!) and Hillary and who i'm voting for, blah blah. Definitely not my favorite topic to talk about, but it's all over the TV. Oddly enough, I read in the newspaper this morning (yes, I can read the french newspaper) and a poll asking if they would elect a black president only turned up with a positive 26%. Hm...

French TV is a kick. There isn't much on other than dubbed American shows (Dr. House = House, Grey's Anatony, Bones, NCIS, etc.) but they have Nouvelle Star! It's the french version of American Idol (duh) and it's hilarious. So is watching my French Family watch it. I don't understand much since they talk to fast on TV, but they all sing American songs.

Day 2 - Il faut battre le fer pendant qu'il est chaud.

"Strike while the iron is hot"

Sleeping for 12 hours helped, a little. On top of the total jet lag, I had over slept. We stumbled down to breakfast - croissants et cafe - Then waited for instructions that turned out to not be instructions but a sort of guide/how-to. She basically told us that there is no instructions and to do whatever your family wants. That's an orientation? Alright. We then packed up our stuff and headed our separate ways to the train stations to meet our families. My first train ride = scary. It doesn't help I've never ridden one in the states, let alone France. I didn't understand a damn word it said over the intercom! The only way I knew my stop was were it was is because they had the arrival time on the ticket. Even that was precarious since the train had to stop for "security" ( that's the only word I got out of the announcement). While trying to manhandle my luggage off the train* the handle on the big one broke. That's going to be a charm on the way home.

My family was there to greet me when I clamored off, luggage and all. They even had a little sign with my name on it, although didn't need it since I was pretty recognizable with a lot of luggage and looking completely bewildered. They are very nice, Dominique and Nathalie, parents who's kids are my age and don't live at home. Their daughter Mathilde is also very nice and super cool and has already made plans for us to hang out this weekend.

It turns out I don't know a damn thing in French aside from saying I'm dumb don't talk to me. Dominique is a journalist for a couple of local newspapers, so he knows EVERYBODY in town. This is not beneficial since everybody already seems to know about me and wants to talk to the American girl.. in french. They all talk extremely fast and with really thick accents so It's really hard to understand them, then, when I give them a blank stare and cock my head sideways and say "repetez s'il vous plait" they look at me like I'm a puppy that chewed on their favorite shoes. Others are nice, though. People more my age would like to get together and practice their english.

That's one thing I've noticed about the French, besides from them being overly friendly. they all like to show me their fancy english skills which amount to one or two words from an American song. It's a great town, though. Like I said, everybody is very friendly. Always saying hello, good day, blah blah or waving. Maybe i'll fit in after awhile. probably not.

I'm still exhausted.

*while most french men were complete skeezes, all hope was not lost. Everytime I had to drag my huge bag up stairs in Le Metro, a very nice French man either helped me carry it up or insisted on taking it up for me. C'est la vie :)