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lesmisloonyI got my entire life packed into two suitcases and two duffels and the in-flight movie was Arthur.
My host family this year is much more down-to-earth than the last year ones (though I ADORED the last year ones, they were very vous-y even amongst themselves). The dad picked me up at the airport and Engrished at me all the way to my new suburb.
I'll refer to the kids by the nicknames their parents told me rather than their full names just in case, which is going to look kind of insane.
When we pulled up in the car the youngest, a three year old they call Nilou, was prancing around the yard with a plastic sword screaming "EHREEEEEEEEEEEEEEN!" Nilou is tiny and has the hugest brown eyes I have ever seen. He is SO energetic and he hates eating, so his mom always has to put forkfuls of food into his mouth. Sometimes he says "fais l'avion!" and she has the food fly to the hangar.
The next one up is a six-year-old girl they call Mimi. She's just as outdoorsy and squirmy as her brothers, but she does sometimes wander off in dreamy pursuit of ladybugs. During dinner today she just started laughing for no reason and soon the whole table was doing it. I WANT TO PUT HER IN PAGEANTS. She has giant hazel eyes and a whole head full of curly brown hair. When she came to get me for dinner she said "Eat?"
The oldest is an eight-year-old boy they call, hilariously, Yoyo. He's just like a taller version of Nilou, but between his bursts of childish energy he likes to carry on conversations with the adults. He gestured that he didn't speak English to his father this morning, but by the end of the day he was saying "I sleep now!" to me on his way upstairs.
I feel like it's still Friday. In my mind, today I woke up on the futon, chilled with Kelley, got on a plane, dozed for a few minutes (less than an hour I think) and then suddenly I was in Paris. Longest day ever. I am really confused.
This house is glorious. I'm in a much more charming suburb than my previous one, "Seven meter from Paris!" as my new host mom said. From the street you just see an ivy-covered brick wall and a gate, but when you open the gate there's a stone staircase that leads down to the yard, which is full of flowers. The house is a standalone building (rare in big cities!) and I have a separate entrance with a different key. My room is down a narrow hallway from the main house and I have my own bathroom with a shower and all that. This room is MASSIVE. There are huge windows everywhere and I HAVE A DOUBLE BED. I slept on a futon all summer and the year before that I slept on a broken cot. DOUBLE BED. With an actual mattress!!! And SO MANY PILLOWS! Everything is light-colored wood and whitewashed walls and airiness. I can hear people chattering outside all the time in the streets (even though out my window all I see is flowers) and the métro passes beneath us and makes the floor rumble a little bit.
I still haven't been into actual Paris yet, but I'm here. I saw the Bibliothèque François Mitterand on the way in and signs for Bercy from the Périphérique. My French isn't anywhere near as rusty as I thought, and that's jetlagged! I've already gotten back in touch with two of my stagedoor buddies, but no exciting news yet.
I can't believe I've stayed awake this long. I'm doing a much better job of being social and confident this year! I wonder if I'd be allowed to go to my previous host family's house just to play their piano...
My host family this year is much more down-to-earth than the last year ones (though I ADORED the last year ones, they were very vous-y even amongst themselves). The dad picked me up at the airport and Engrished at me all the way to my new suburb.
I'll refer to the kids by the nicknames their parents told me rather than their full names just in case, which is going to look kind of insane.
When we pulled up in the car the youngest, a three year old they call Nilou, was prancing around the yard with a plastic sword screaming "EHREEEEEEEEEEEEEEN!" Nilou is tiny and has the hugest brown eyes I have ever seen. He is SO energetic and he hates eating, so his mom always has to put forkfuls of food into his mouth. Sometimes he says "fais l'avion!" and she has the food fly to the hangar.
The next one up is a six-year-old girl they call Mimi. She's just as outdoorsy and squirmy as her brothers, but she does sometimes wander off in dreamy pursuit of ladybugs. During dinner today she just started laughing for no reason and soon the whole table was doing it. I WANT TO PUT HER IN PAGEANTS. She has giant hazel eyes and a whole head full of curly brown hair. When she came to get me for dinner she said "Eat?"
The oldest is an eight-year-old boy they call, hilariously, Yoyo. He's just like a taller version of Nilou, but between his bursts of childish energy he likes to carry on conversations with the adults. He gestured that he didn't speak English to his father this morning, but by the end of the day he was saying "I sleep now!" to me on his way upstairs.
I feel like it's still Friday. In my mind, today I woke up on the futon, chilled with Kelley, got on a plane, dozed for a few minutes (less than an hour I think) and then suddenly I was in Paris. Longest day ever. I am really confused.
This house is glorious. I'm in a much more charming suburb than my previous one, "Seven meter from Paris!" as my new host mom said. From the street you just see an ivy-covered brick wall and a gate, but when you open the gate there's a stone staircase that leads down to the yard, which is full of flowers. The house is a standalone building (rare in big cities!) and I have a separate entrance with a different key. My room is down a narrow hallway from the main house and I have my own bathroom with a shower and all that. This room is MASSIVE. There are huge windows everywhere and I HAVE A DOUBLE BED. I slept on a futon all summer and the year before that I slept on a broken cot. DOUBLE BED. With an actual mattress!!! And SO MANY PILLOWS! Everything is light-colored wood and whitewashed walls and airiness. I can hear people chattering outside all the time in the streets (even though out my window all I see is flowers) and the métro passes beneath us and makes the floor rumble a little bit.
I still haven't been into actual Paris yet, but I'm here. I saw the Bibliothèque François Mitterand on the way in and signs for Bercy from the Périphérique. My French isn't anywhere near as rusty as I thought, and that's jetlagged! I've already gotten back in touch with two of my stagedoor buddies, but no exciting news yet.
I can't believe I've stayed awake this long. I'm doing a much better job of being social and confident this year! I wonder if I'd be allowed to go to my previous host family's house just to play their piano...
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no subject
Date: 2011-09-10 08:52 pm (UTC)Zont des surnoms bizarres ces gosses, mais au moins tu n'as pas eu besoin de beaucoup d'imagination pour les rendre anonymes ^^
Bonne nuit ! :)
no subject
Date: 2011-09-10 10:09 pm (UTC)KEEP ME INFORMED ON ALL THE THINGS. I LOVE YOU A LOT HOME SKILLET.
no subject
Date: 2011-09-10 10:41 pm (UTC)In which suburb are you? :D
enjoy !
no subject
Date: 2011-09-11 12:00 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-09-11 02:20 am (UTC)Seriously, I saw this post and whisper-screamed for joy. YOU ARE BACK IN PARIS MY DEAR. YOU ARE BACK HOME. HOW AWESOME IS THIS???
seriously, even jetlagged you sound ecstatic. I look forward to many more posts like this :)
no subject
Date: 2011-09-11 09:33 am (UTC)