An American Girl in Avignon

Today I woke up after another poor night of sleep. My mind seems to be drifting to other people and places. Not to mention I have had some of the oddest dreams since being here. Perhaps it was the dinner last night or the jet lag. Or maybe, my heart is elsewhere. Je ne sais pas.
The breakfast this morning was excellent. Rachel and I (you must have figured out that we don’t sleep by now) rose early to enjoy notre petit dejeuner ensemble. The breakfast at this hotel had many more choices… fruit, yogurt, and even GASP…cereal! The coffee was excellent too. The Donkey fans (aka: caffeine addicts), Rachel, Kelby, and I, had three cups of that good old European coffee. Today was going to be a good/long day indeed.

Katie, Christophe, and our adorable correspondent, Jenny, met us in the lobby that morning after we packed and stored our luggage for a tour of Avignon inside the walls. The historic part of Avignon is walled-in, and thankfully, my host family lives inside the walls, which is close to the university.
Our short walking tour ended up being an entire afternoon of wandering around in the cold, but luckily we took many breaks and stops along the road. Our first stop was at an old church near the Place Pis, a commercial center full of boutiques, patisseries, cafes, et restaurants. The shopping here is excellent, but that’s a dangerous thing. H&M is conveniently located on the way to the main sights along with other various shops full of cute things just waiting to be bought. I am going to be so broke come June.
After that, we went to the top of the Palais des Papes, where we will take a tour on Wednesday. The view of Avignon was breathtaking and one could really get an idea of the size, age, and architecture of the city. I want to return to this overlook over the point of Avignon when the weather is nice and have a picnic with some friends. If someone was looking for a romantic date-place, this was it.

We thankfully were allowed a break after this, so Katy and Christophe made a trip to the Orange store to fix my cell while we students went to find a bite to eat on the commercialized main-drag called la Rue de la Republique. After looking around, we went to the Avignon art museum to view a deceased aristocrat’s collection of paintings. The man had quite a variety of artwork with pieces varying from dishes from the Orient to sketches by Degas and Van Gough.

After this, Rachel and I went to H&M to buy some necessities. Sick of looking like a walking American flag, I was eager to trade in my Northface, although I love it, for a simple, light gray jacket. I also bought a white scarf to go with my ensemble, because I love scarves and everyone (and I mean EVERYONE) in Europe sports scarves. My final purchases were a black umbrella (I sadly lost mine in the store! Pathetic, I know) and socks…because I forgot them.

After shopping we went to the only place where you can get coffee to go in Europe…McDonalds. “To-go” cups do not exist in France, and the word for “to go” is surprisingly not pour aller either, it’s en porter…I learned this the hard way after some man just stared at me when I tried to get my cappuccino to go. Sadly, we have been to Mickey D’s three times since being in Avignon, and we have been here three days. Hey, they have coffee to go… and chocolate mousse! Why is it that even the food at McDonald’s is better here?

Running back in the rain, assuring that we would all look terrible when we met our host families, we made it to the hotel just in time to be greeted by out host moms. I was caught off-guard when Katy called out my name to meet mine. A dark-haired woman with round glasses and a warm smile wisked Kristina and my bags away as we walked to her SAAB in the rain. Meeting the “mom” in the family I would live with for the next three months was an interesting experience indeed. She immediately started correcting my grammar… and there were a lot of awkward silences, because I didn’t know what to say to her. Well, let me take that back. I had many things I wanted to say to her and ask, but I didn’t know how. We pulled into a back alley parking garage near the university and parked the car. The awkward silence continued as Kristina and I shot glances back and forth, having no idea what to say to this woman who was kindly taking us into her home.

I am living in Avignon with the Morvilliez. The parents are both professors at the university, one of history and literature, the other I couldn’t tell you if my life depended on it, because I have no idea what she told me. Je ne comprends pas du tout. It’s frustrating because I struggled to hear every word that this woman was telling me, but my head hurt from all of the French I had been speaking over the past few days. The family has a boy named Paul, who is 18 and in his last year of French “high school.” He greeted me at the door and kindly took my bags upstairs. He reminds me of a taller, skinner version of Harry Potter in some way…I hope that’s not mean to say, but that’s what I think. The girl is 13, and her name is Claire-Montine. She is cute, but very quiet. Part of me thinks that she thinks I am a total idiot, because my French is horrible and I am constantly stumbling over my words and being corrected on grammar mistakes even a 5 year-old French speaker wouldn’t make. I think we are starting to connect a little over our taste in danceable techno music though, so we’ll see…

The house was far different than I expected. Our room has a balcony overlooking a petit jardin filled with various plants. It’s very pretty, and our room is very nice too. The room is blue, and is ironically around the same shade of blue as my room back home, so it made me a little homesick. The décor of the house is mis-matched in a French-nouveau style with an air of thrown-together sophistication. Must be the laissez-faire French attitude coming out in a subtle way. Kristina and I have a room equipped with the internet (thank God) and a bathroom with a shower that gets water all over the floor when we use it. I am thankful we have a shower and sink at all, but sadly, we have to go downstairs to use the toilet. It’s inconvenient, but I am grateful for such a nice room. The first thing I noticed about the house was how cold it was inside. It’s like French people don’t use heat. Kristina and I have to wear our Northfaces downstairs to keep from freezing to death. So, to alleviate the cold, we turn up the heat very high in our room to balance out the shock to our system.

After attempting to unpack and settle in, which felt so nice after those travel days in Paris, we went downstairs to have dinner at 8 sharp. That’s the only rule in this house: dinner is always at 8, and if you aren’t going to make it, just let her know, which is nice. I think I lucked out by getting such a kind host family.

Our mom is a really good cook. Our first night she made us some yummy pasta with bread and salad. For dessert we ate yogurt…plain yogurt…but the taste was improved with a thick, syrupy honey-like substance that I would like to find and buy when I return to the US. It was so good!
The only thing I don’t like is that our mom smokes, and they told us she didn’t. Thankfully, she only does this after dinner and lunch…but unfortunately in the house. The family also has a smelly guinea pig that lives right by the dinner table, so we can inhale the smell of stinky rodent cage while we eat. But if these are the only problems, then I really have nothing to complain about.

Dinner ended awkwardly because we didn’t know what to do with ourselves, but the conversation flowed better than expected. Sleeping was difficult again that night, but I hope this will improve in time. More catch up coming soon…I promise I will get to the actual day it is soon!