An American Girl in Avignon

Well, another long period of time has gone by without me writing in my blog…again. But, that’s okay, because I have been busy enjoying France and attempting (this is a key word) to get some work done. I can’t believe it is already week seven. Where has the time gone? Spring quarter is almost over, and I feel like I just got to France. I am not ready to leave yet! I keep changing my mind. I had some sort of a revelation when I was in Barcelona: I don’t want to leave this place yet; I’m not ready. (Hey mom and dad, can I just stay here the rest of the summer…thanks :)) I thought I would be by now, and who knows how I will feel in four weeks, but I feel like I am starting to get attached. My language skills are slowly coming along, and I am feeling at home.

Before I decided to study abroad this quarter, I had been debating with myself as to whether or not I was going to have French as just a minor. I added a double major around half-way through fall quarter, but French was really stressing me out Winter Quarter, and I was ready to say: “Forget you, French,” and just get a minor…or not study abroad at all. But once you feel like you’ve hit rock bottom, the only way to go is up! After my time here, I feel like I can make I better decision. I am going to keep the double-degree. I know it is going to mean more work for me, but after all the time I’ve spent studying and living and France, I couldn’t possibly give up French! Every time I feel like quitting or when I get frustrated and question why on Earth I am trying to learn a second language, something just won’t let me give it up. What can I say? I have a love-hate relationship with French. I am so thankful that I am in France right now. This is unquestionably the best thing I have ever done. My time here has made me realize how much I really love France and French – all while learning more about myself. Yet, although I feel like I am learning something every day, I am nowhere near the level I would like to be. There’s still so much left to learn! I wish my stay here was longer so I could continue to learn and travel. Hmm, there is a study abroad program in Quebec during the summer. Maybe I’ll do that next year.
Speaking of feeling more at home, after a struggle and a very, very awkward goodbye (my host family didn’t bisous me, shake my hand, or anything…it was weird. I thanked them for my stay and tried to be as polite as possible and make an awkward situation less awkward, and I guess that’s all one can do), Kristina and I finally moved host families last week. (Side note: there is no literal translation for awkward in French. We were trying to explain awkward palm tree and awkward turtle to some French students last week, but of course, no one knew what we were talking about. The closest you will get is maladroit/e).

I had no idea I would be moving out until the day of. It was now or never (or I would have to wait). Well, there was no way I was going to do that, so as soon as I got the go-ahead, I ran, and I mean RAN to my house to throw my stuff in my bags and get the heck out of there! Haha. I didn’t stop to think about what I was packing where. I walked around the room, stuffed things in my suitcase without folding them, and shoved my belongings in any open pocket I could find. I think I am going to have to buy a new suitcase before coming home, because I could barely fit everything in there as is, and I have hardly bought anything here. C’est un problème, n’est-ce pas?

There was some new confusion as to how exactly I was getting to this new house. After dragging my bags down the stairs and setting them on the porch, anxiously waiting to be taken to my new home, I got a call saying to meet our program director outside. Apparently, he thought I had already spoken with my new host mom (which I hadn’t), and Sakinah and Katie were going to come help me move out. He left, thinking that everything was going to be fine. God’s timing is everything, because just as he was leaving, my new host mom pulled up in a little blue SAAB on my street, and hopped out – not knowing the address, only to find our director standing right in front of my old house.

So was the start of my last (and what I think is going to be the best) month in France. This was what I had been missing!! My new host mom is so nice and a ton of fun. Honestly, I think the woman is super-human. She’s around 55 years old and has a more active social life than most college students. Each day she rises with the sun (radio blaring) at 6am, then goes to work at 8:00 at the Palais des Papes (conveniently located next to our house as well as the hot shopping and eateries in town…can you tell I love my new house?) until around 5 or 6 in the evening. On Tuesdays she has swimming lessons; on Wednesdays she sings at a local club; on Thursdays she plays poker with her friends; on Fridays she goes out; and out Saturdays she goes to les Halles to teach a cooking workshop (she is an excellent cook). Musical talent must run in the family, because she plays instruments and her daughter sings in the Paris opera. It seems like she never stops to take a breath. She talks quickly and appears to have a constant supply of energy. I have never seen anything like it in my life! She offers to help us with homework, does our laundry, helps us with French, asks us what we would like, and is welcoming in all manners. Friendly and accommodating: sounds exactly like what a host family/mom should be. She amazes me! I can’t wait to find out who is going to live with Martine next year. She is adorable! If only I had been living here in the first place…but it’s okay, because my last house was a learning experience, and I will end the program on a good note in the living situation department.

My room is in a three bedroom (Sakinah and Katie share the second bedroom) apartment on the fourth floor apartment building overlooking the courtyard by St. Peter’s église en ville. Since we live right next to the church, I am woken up each morning by a tolling bell tower. As stupid and cheesy as it sounds, I feel like I am living in some fairy-tale dream world. It’s as if reality left me when I boarded the plane. I often have to pause and ask myself, “Is this for real? Am I really in France?” Well, if I am dreaming, I don’t want to wake up anytime soon! I think waking up and looking out my window to see a Renaissance-style courtyard and the Palais des Papes, and hear tolling church bells adds to the fairy-tale feeling I get from living in Avignon.

My new house also came with an affectionate black and white cat with bright green eyes, whose name is Cat. Breakfast at Tiffany’s-inspired, peut-être? Normally, I am not a big fan of cats, but this one is different. The cat has slept on my bed for the past few nights, and constantly wants the attention on humans. You have to be careful, because if you’re not looking, Cat will plop himself in your lap and make himself at home. Cat hops tables, counters, beds, desks (anything he can find), and has a constant need for attention – which can be annoying after awhile. For now, I am content to have a nice home, welcoming host mom, awesome roomies, and a friendly cat. I know I am going to enjoy my last month here.