Il y a trop de discuter! Alors, viola ma famille francaise

I've been too distracted with and tired from my days in France to write a proper blog entry, but ca va!  As of right now, I'm in Lyon living with my host family.  I'd love to discuss more about my last days in Paris, but I can always mention those monuments and such when I have more time.  I'd rather talk about something more relevant.  Thus...

MY HOST FAMILY - The DuMonts

My host mother's name is Isabelle.  She's around 40 years old, I think (the girls told me one night, but I was too tired to properly understand).  She's about my height, tiny, blonde, fit, and tan.  She's a teacher and very sweet to me.  They tell me I'm their fifth exchange student.

I also have three host sisters.  Marie is the oldest at 12, Sophie is the middle child at 10, and Laure is the youngest at 8.  I'd never imagined my host family having young children, but I've actually found it incredibly fun.  They've proven to be great teachers and are incredibly kind to me.  When I first arrived, Sophie and Laure insisted that they help me unpack.  As they unloaded my clothes and my shoes, their eyes widened.  Before I knew it, they each had one of my six inch heels on their feet and were limping around the apartment.

Oh, yes we live in an apartment.  I guess it's more like a flat.  It's modern and beautiful.  Lyon is divided by two rivers - the Rhone and the Saone.  We live by the Saone in a building on the top floor (they call it the 7th etage but it's actually the 8th floor for Americans).  The balcony faces the Saone and overlooks Lyon and beyond.  The view is absolutely breath-taking.  I have my own room which is quite tiny but suffices considering how little time I spend in it.

I also have a host father, but he's currently in the Ukraine doing something... The girls tried to explain it to me, but it was my first night with the family so I was exhausted and overwhelmed and understood perhaps 40% of what they were jointly telling me (in fact, they said something about their father followed by "BOOM" so I thought he was dead... Whoops).  All I know is his name is Xavier, and Isabelle is often on the phone with him.

The final part of our family is a gorgeous grey cat named Flocon.  She's a bit moody as any proper French girl ought to be and plays hard to get, but she's a big love machine.  She likes to sneak into my room for pets when she gets the opportunity.

I arrived on the TGV (it's ridiculously fast!) from Paris to Lyon on Saturday evening at 7PM.  We all loaded up our bags and headed out of the train station to the entrance where a group of French people were gathered.  Smiling nervously, we wait for them to grab our arms and whisk us away.  Some can't tell by our pictures and end up yelling out our names.  I wait with my heart beating in my chest, and one by one the familiar faces trickle away.  I feel like the last kid waiting to get picked in kickball... Finally an older woman calls out "Emily!" and I smile brightly.  She kisses me on both cheeks and explains in rapid French that my host family is out of town and that I'll be staying with her over the weekend.  I nod uncertainly and hear "Emily!"called out again.  This time it's Isabelle, and she brandishes a piece of paper with "Emily Mullenax" scrawled across it.  I'm the only student in their home, and Isabelle kisses me on both cheeks and introduces me to Sophie and Laure who look excited like little girls with a new playmate.  She directs me toward their car and asks me simple questions in French (but admittedly in very quick French), and I'm so nervous, I can't catch a thing.  I blush, shake my head, and say I don't understand.  She speaks more slowly, and I stumble over my French as I try to answer her.

She drives me through Lyon (um... French drivers are cray) and points out monuments and places of interest as we place and then shows them to me on a map.  They guide me up the elevator (thank god there's an elevator) to their flat and help me unpack.  Dinner on the balcony, and they give me the seat of honor facing the Saone and the ridiculous view.  We have slices of cantaloupe -which they act like is a special treat, cheese quiche (OMG I need the recipe), salad, and finally a tiny slice of the dessert of Lyon called prauline -but it's not at all like the praulines we think of.  It's a tart with some sort of raspberry colored confecteur in the center.  Delicious!

The girls want to play Monopoly with me, show me pictures, talk to me about American music (the French LOVE American music), ask me about my friends and my boyfriend, and more.  We don't go to bed until around 11 PM, and I pass out.

In the morning, we wake up around 9AM, and Isabelle has made us pain au chocolat (pastry with chocolate in the center... like I die) and yogurt on the side.  Then we're getting ready to leave for the country.  Isabelle's parents live in a tiny city outside of Lyon called V.L.M. (I can't remember what that stands for...).  It's a short drive, and the whole thing is surreal for me.  We're blaring AC/DC and David Guetta and speaking sporadically in French.  It's bizarre, but I love it.

When we reach the house in the country, things get awkward.  Isabelle's friends meet us there, kiss me on the cheeks, and then proceed to ignore me for the rest of the time.  I wander around the house awkwardly and speak only to the girls when they remember I'm there.  At lunch, we have some odd pasta salad with all manner of things in it, roasted chicken, bread, Italian "chorizo", and for dessert, fruit salad and a brochette which is delicious!  Finally, they acknowledge me and ask me questions about Austin, school, and America.  I change into my bathing suit and lay out on my towel.

By this time, I've begun to notice the difference between what I've learned in class and how they actually speak.  For example, they would ask me, "Emily, tu veux beigner avec moi?" meaning, "Emily, do you want to swim with me?"  Usually I've learned "nager" means "to swim", but they explain to me that "nager" is more swimming like Michael Phelps whereas "beigner" is what you do in the bath on in the pool.  Hm.

We have pizza for dinner -seems that doesn't change between cultures, but their pizza is quite different from American pizza.  For one, it's always thin, rustic crust.  For another, you can't expect to find pepperonis and such on the menu.  They get four pizzas: one has several cheeses (mozarella, parmesan, and creme fraiche -bleh) and boiled cubed potatoes, another has beef and cheese, another has salmon and creme fraiche, and the final one is the classique which is cheese, ham, and olives.  Yep.  I go to bed around 10PM, but not before I hear one of the girls have a mini-meltdown.  It's understandable.  From what I can comprehend (I'm situated above their bedroom) between Isabelle and them, they're arguing about me.  They're annoyed I get my own room, and I get special treatment in general.  I know they like me.  They always want to talk to me, play with me, and such.  I know they're just tired and have had a long day and are ready to complain about any little thing.  Still, I tear up a little bit feeling bad that I've upset them.  It's the first time I get kinda homesick.

When thinking about my time abroad, I knew I'd stay with a host family.  I was incredibly excited about staying with a host family, but I wasn't considering the entire picture.  The reality is it's hard.  It's really hard to speak French 24/7 when I can currently only express myself 60-70% of the time.  It's hard when I don't know what to say and sit awkwardly in silence at the dinner table, just smiling when I make eye contact with anyone.  I go out of my way to be agreeable.  I clean up after myself, I help carry whatever I can up the stairs, I put sunscreen on Laure when she's playing outside, and such.

Luckily, this morning I was able to see my friends at school which put me in a better mood.  Isabelle showed me in a very, very loose sense how I should get to school.  By that, I mean she drove me down a hill, pointed, and told me in French, "You'll walk over there, cross the parking lot, keep walking, you'll see the metro, and you'll find your way from there."  Hah!  This morning, I woke up early at 6:30, got dressed and straightened my hair, and set off for school.  Half way to the metro, I realize I've forgotten my metro card.  I run back to the apartment, grab my metro card, find my way to the metro, and realize I have no idea where to go from there.  I stare at the map and hear Isabelle's voice in my head "There's a stop for Jean-Moulin" (university where I'm studying).... Uh.  I don't see one.  I vaguely remember the direction she said to go.  I hop on the D train, pray I'm going the right direction, and stare at the map above the doors like it'll suddenly light up and show me the way.  I get off a Vieux Lyon.  I walk around lost.  I pull out my map of Lyon, but I'm utterly, hopelessly, completely lost.  I find a man who works at the metro and ask him if he knows how I can get to Lyon 3.  It must have been my lucky day because this guy went out of his way to help me.  He runs to ask a friend.  He calls someone on the telephone.  Then he tells me in clear French which line to take, when to get off, and where to walk from there.

I'm on the train again.  I get off at the proper stop.  I climb the stairs, and... I'm lost again.  I pull out my map of Lyon, but again, someone up there is looking out for me.  Out of nowhere, Professor Vessely saddles up to me all smiles and tells me exactly how to reach the campus.  I have 10 minutes to spare, and I hurry up the street to the campus.  When I see Charles, Brett, Michael, and Andres, I'm ridiculously happy.  "I haven't seen you guys in so long!" I say, and they laugh and all give me a hug.  Charles comments, "I know... Imagine in 5 weeks we'll be crying when we have to leave each other."  I never thought I'd become such close friends with people so swiftly!  Everyone else arrives, and we get a tour of the campus.  It's beautiful!

After our tour of the university, classes begin.  Madame Meunier is my professor, and she is a French professor from the university.  I'm beyond intimidated.  I've heard the horror stories from people who have passed the program.  To my surprise, she's hilarious.  She speaks slowly and annunciates clearly.  Each of us has an opportunity to speak, she points out our mistakes without humiliating us, and I'm feverishly taking notes.  After her class, we have a culture class with Professor Vessely.  I'm starving (I'll have to do an entry on French customs -namely French "cereal").  Finally, finally, at noon we can eat.  They give us passes so we can try the university restaurant.  It's 3.50 Euros for an entree (appetizer), plat principal (main course), and dessert -obviously an amazing deal.  Of course the downside is it's cafeteria food.  The only thing I enjoyed was my eclaire for dessert.  After lunch, Tara and I head off to the Belle Court which is a large square in Lyon with a lot of shops and cafes and such.

I have a horrible headache from lack of caffeine, and I make a note to ask Isabelle if she can teach me how to use the coffee machine (again, having coffee in France is different than America).  Tara and I find a Starbucks, I order a venti latte, and we find some comfy seats upstairs where we can drink our coffees, vent about our experiences with our families, and work on our homework.  It's just what I've needed.  I arrive back home around 4PM without any problems (I don't usually get lost twice!).  I have the flat to myself, and boy do I enjoy it.  I love my host family, but I haven't had a chance to be alone when I'm accustomed to being alone.  I relax, start on this blog entry, and have a snack.  When Isabelle returns, we take Sophie and Laure to gymnastics, and she takes me for a run.  I consider myself a pretty fit young lady... I got my ass handed to me by my host mother!!!  "We" ran for an hour.  After the first lap, she took off by herself, and I jogged around the track with all the tiny middle school kids.  Oh well.    At least I got rid of that eclaire haha

Now we're home again, and I'm trying to speak more.  I hear Sophie practicing the piano.  It's pretty peaceful actually.  I still have so much to write about.  Hopefully I'll get the chance soon :) -em