So this semester I am currently living in a home-stay. I selected the home-stay option in November. I found out their ADDRESS in late January, and I came to Paris still with no idea WHO THEY ARE?! It still baffles me how they couldn't just let me know the AGES and NUMBER of people in my home-stay. Truly unbelievable.
As I said in a previous post, the first night I stayed in a hotel. After going through all the previously described orientation items, we finally got our home-stay information!!! The woman had a full, typed out sheet about my family. (How about attaching that baby to an email and sending it out??) She told me I would be staying in one of the swankiest (my words, not hers) parts of Paris. When she pulled out my sheet, her face lit up, and she said, "Quelle chance!" (aka What luck!). This instantly made me excited. She explained how my madame is a widow (late 50's/early 60's) with four kids. She works part-time at a museum near her apartment. The only people that live in er apartment are another exchange student (a girl (named Oksana) from "Russia", but she's from Uzbekistan) and my madame. One of her sons (named Max) still lives in the building, but not in the apartment. However, he can reach the apartment through a door in the kitchen, but he has no bathroom or kitchen.
(Okay, that sounds confusing right? Try hearing that s**t in French on your second day in Paris. I felt so dumb because I thought my comprehension was way off, but I heard her right. My home-stay exchange sister later explained that Max lives in what used to be considered the "maid's quarters". Thus, connected to the kitchen, but still on a part of the apartment. It is an old building, but still, weird.)
Her husband, when he was alive, restored old paintings. She said her apartment is covered in beautiful art and is just stunning. I asked how her husband passed away, but I couldn't really understand her. I think she said it was his heart, but then said in English, "that kind of stuff happens..." I just giggled in my head about that response because it was the only thing she said in English (it was extremely broken English too). Anyway, after she explained all that, she kept the sheet with all of the information about their lives on it. She handed me a separate sheet on how to get into the building and how to take the best metro route from her apartment to school.
After everyone spoke with Beatrice about their home-stay, we all went back to the hotel to collect our suitcases. We then each took our own cabs to our new homes! My cab was the last of the 25 cabs to come because my madame was still at work. As the cab took me to this random woman's house (I probably will never call it home), I couldn't help but notice the amazing area I would be living in. There are tons of cute, little boutiques. I'm sandwiched between two massive and beautiful churches (St. Sulpice and St. Germain). By sandwiched, I mean I am 50 feet from one and a block from the other. Cafes and other little restaurants also line the streets. It's a perfect location and probably the best of anyone on the trip. So after the quick 8 minute cab drive, I was finally dropped off in front of the place I'd being staying at while in Paris (again, not home). I had no idea what to expect, but I just dived in. "Bonsoir, Madame..."
Friday 4 March 2011
Orientation...
So after an awesome first day in Paris, day two consisted of orientation all day until 4pm. Then, at 4pm, we FINALLY would get our home-stay information (this will be thoroughly explained in the next post). It was a very nerving racking day because everyone just wanted to find out information on their home-stay.
The first part of orientation just explained everything banking. It explained that the currency is the Euro. Each bill and coin is a different size based on value (50's are huge, while 5's are like Monopoly™ money). They told us which ATM's to NOT use because they liked to eat international cards. They explained how American credit cards didn't have the "pus" or chip, so you would need to explain to some places that they need to swipe it (by explain, they mean do a swiping motion).
After money, they moved onto the Metro. They tried to scare us by going way over the top about it. They saidwe would get pick-pocketed on the Metro. It was a foregone conclusion. We would stick out like dumb Americans and be prime targets for thugs. And we shouldn't ride the Metro late at night!! Absolutely not, that's when all the scary bad men come out... Needless to say, I haven't felt unsafe on the Metro yet. I have listened to my iPod, played games on my cell phone and even almost fell asleep once. No pickpockets and no trouble yet (knocking on wood).
Outside of that, orientation was pretty uneventful. They went over emergency contacts and how to call the police/fire department. After six hours of endless meetings and stuff, we finally got to the topic everyone wanted to talk about: our home-stays!
The first part of orientation just explained everything banking. It explained that the currency is the Euro. Each bill and coin is a different size based on value (50's are huge, while 5's are like Monopoly™ money). They told us which ATM's to NOT use because they liked to eat international cards. They explained how American credit cards didn't have the "pus" or chip, so you would need to explain to some places that they need to swipe it (by explain, they mean do a swiping motion).
After money, they moved onto the Metro. They tried to scare us by going way over the top about it. They saidwe would get pick-pocketed on the Metro. It was a foregone conclusion. We would stick out like dumb Americans and be prime targets for thugs. And we shouldn't ride the Metro late at night!! Absolutely not, that's when all the scary bad men come out... Needless to say, I haven't felt unsafe on the Metro yet. I have listened to my iPod, played games on my cell phone and even almost fell asleep once. No pickpockets and no trouble yet (knocking on wood).
Outside of that, orientation was pretty uneventful. They went over emergency contacts and how to call the police/fire department. After six hours of endless meetings and stuff, we finally got to the topic everyone wanted to talk about: our home-stays!
Thursday 3 March 2011
My First Day Part 3
So upon arrival, I checked in at the front desk of ACCENT and received information about the first few week of orientation, meetings, and class. I guess the people who had arrived early were being given a walking tour of the neighborhood. I had gotten there around 1:45pm-ish, while some people had arrived at 9am... The woman behind the desk assured me that I didn't miss anything, and I could use the computers if I wanted. This is where I met the first person from my program. She had actually been in London for the past week as well and took the train that left 30 minutes before mine. It was bizarre.
After people got back from the tour, there was a group of eight or so of us that went exploring around ACCENT. We stopped at a Monoprix (kind of a Target-like store with a much larger/better selection of groceries). While there, I tried to help some of the girls find hair-driers. None of us knew how to say hair-drier in French (not one of the first words you learn...), so we wandered around the store for a bit. After no luck, one of the girls described in French what we were looking for and were told they had none left. (After a few weeks, we realized it is EXTREMELY difficult to find a Monoprix with hair-driers in stock). Before leaving there, I also purchased my first food in France: a pre-made cheese sandwich. Mmm, tasty I know...
After Monoprix, we found the hotel that we'd be staying at the first night. It was typical European where you leave your key at the front desk (keep this in mind). It looked pretty classy, but was exceptionally weird. They did have an elevator, but it was in the MIDDLE of each staircase. Which means, you had to drag your suitcase up half a set of stairs. Then, you get off a half floor above your actual floor. So I needed to go to the 4th floor, it opened in between floors 4 and 5... Also, it could fit THREE people or 225 kg (495 pounds or about 165 pounds per person). Meaning it would take about 2, but more likely 3 trips in the elevator to take my family of five up to our room. Another weird thing was we got a room for three people. There were three twin beds with about two inches of space between them. It was like a super king-size bed. It was creepy.
After dropping off the bags, some people napped, and others continued wandering. We stumbled upon "le jardin des plantes". It's supposed to be really pretty when everything is blooming in the spring. There will also be a zoo there with tons of animals. However, at the start of February, there is just bare trees and empty cages. It was still easy on the eyes though.
Once we got back to the hotel, we decided to go to dinner at 8pm (it was 6:30pm at the time). My roommate for the night had decided to nap, but I took the key and left it at the front desk before leaving (I wanted to be able to get back into the room without needing to bang it down). So I go to the front desk to retrieve the key, and the key for room 402 is gone (or so I thought at the time). Therefore, I awkwardly chill in this room of three girls because I thought my roommate had taken the key, but forgot to leave it at the desk. I stayed there for about an hour, then we went downstairs to wait for my roommate to come back. After waiting in the lobby for about 10 minutes, I look again at the key rack. I realized I read the board wrong. The key for room 502 was missing, but 402 had been there the whole....... ...... I just felt so dumb.
After retrieving my roommate, a group of six of us went to this little crêperie by the hotel. We dined on galettes (dinner crepes) and crepes (name reserved for sweeter, dessert crepes). The waiter was a charming young Frenchman who asked us, in French, what we wanted, but added, "I speak English too if it makes it easier for you...". I should have asked what it was that I ordered, but I mistakenly got a galette with blood sausage in it. (NEVER order anything with the word boudin in it). It's amazing how I will never forget what that word means now. At the time, I didn't know what it was, and it tasted fine. Although, I could just be saying that because I was starving.
Anyway, we got a bottle of wine with dinner and cider with dessert. The waiter said it was common in France to have cider with the sweeter, dessert crepes. It was served in a teapot, and we drank it out of teacups. I looked around the restaurant and saw a number of other tables were doing the same. After finishing dinner, my roommate and I went to a few of the cafes in the area. The drinks in Paris are expensive. It was so depressing paying the equivalent of five dollars 4.7 ounces of wine (14 centiliters), which is a little less than a glass of wine (5.5 ounces). We chatted with one of the bartenders who said our French was really good for it being our first night in Paris. He also explained that in a restaurant, and other public places, the bathroom is called a W.C. (pronounced Vay-Say for water closet). A "salle de bains" (the word they taught us in all French classes) is supposed to include a shower and/or tub. It was a great little tip. After a few crepes and a few glasses of wine, we moseyed on back to hotel for a good night's sleep. What a wonderful first day in Paris.
After people got back from the tour, there was a group of eight or so of us that went exploring around ACCENT. We stopped at a Monoprix (kind of a Target-like store with a much larger/better selection of groceries). While there, I tried to help some of the girls find hair-driers. None of us knew how to say hair-drier in French (not one of the first words you learn...), so we wandered around the store for a bit. After no luck, one of the girls described in French what we were looking for and were told they had none left. (After a few weeks, we realized it is EXTREMELY difficult to find a Monoprix with hair-driers in stock). Before leaving there, I also purchased my first food in France: a pre-made cheese sandwich. Mmm, tasty I know...
After Monoprix, we found the hotel that we'd be staying at the first night. It was typical European where you leave your key at the front desk (keep this in mind). It looked pretty classy, but was exceptionally weird. They did have an elevator, but it was in the MIDDLE of each staircase. Which means, you had to drag your suitcase up half a set of stairs. Then, you get off a half floor above your actual floor. So I needed to go to the 4th floor, it opened in between floors 4 and 5... Also, it could fit THREE people or 225 kg (495 pounds or about 165 pounds per person). Meaning it would take about 2, but more likely 3 trips in the elevator to take my family of five up to our room. Another weird thing was we got a room for three people. There were three twin beds with about two inches of space between them. It was like a super king-size bed. It was creepy.
After dropping off the bags, some people napped, and others continued wandering. We stumbled upon "le jardin des plantes". It's supposed to be really pretty when everything is blooming in the spring. There will also be a zoo there with tons of animals. However, at the start of February, there is just bare trees and empty cages. It was still easy on the eyes though.
Once we got back to the hotel, we decided to go to dinner at 8pm (it was 6:30pm at the time). My roommate for the night had decided to nap, but I took the key and left it at the front desk before leaving (I wanted to be able to get back into the room without needing to bang it down). So I go to the front desk to retrieve the key, and the key for room 402 is gone (or so I thought at the time). Therefore, I awkwardly chill in this room of three girls because I thought my roommate had taken the key, but forgot to leave it at the desk. I stayed there for about an hour, then we went downstairs to wait for my roommate to come back. After waiting in the lobby for about 10 minutes, I look again at the key rack. I realized I read the board wrong. The key for room 502 was missing, but 402 had been there the whole....... ...... I just felt so dumb.
After retrieving my roommate, a group of six of us went to this little crêperie by the hotel. We dined on galettes (dinner crepes) and crepes (name reserved for sweeter, dessert crepes). The waiter was a charming young Frenchman who asked us, in French, what we wanted, but added, "I speak English too if it makes it easier for you...". I should have asked what it was that I ordered, but I mistakenly got a galette with blood sausage in it. (NEVER order anything with the word boudin in it). It's amazing how I will never forget what that word means now. At the time, I didn't know what it was, and it tasted fine. Although, I could just be saying that because I was starving.
Anyway, we got a bottle of wine with dinner and cider with dessert. The waiter said it was common in France to have cider with the sweeter, dessert crepes. It was served in a teapot, and we drank it out of teacups. I looked around the restaurant and saw a number of other tables were doing the same. After finishing dinner, my roommate and I went to a few of the cafes in the area. The drinks in Paris are expensive. It was so depressing paying the equivalent of five dollars 4.7 ounces of wine (14 centiliters), which is a little less than a glass of wine (5.5 ounces). We chatted with one of the bartenders who said our French was really good for it being our first night in Paris. He also explained that in a restaurant, and other public places, the bathroom is called a W.C. (pronounced Vay-Say for water closet). A "salle de bains" (the word they taught us in all French classes) is supposed to include a shower and/or tub. It was a great little tip. After a few crepes and a few glasses of wine, we moseyed on back to hotel for a good night's sleep. What a wonderful first day in Paris.
Wednesday 2 March 2011
My First Day Part 2
So I sheepishly collected my suitcase from the rack and made my way off the train. I remember the air smelling different, and it was much sunnier than in London. Instantly, people were speaking French. I was like, "what the hey..." For some reason, I forgot that I was going to a country where they spoke a different language. Weird, I know.
The first thing I needed to do was get cash from the ATM. I joined a line and figured out how to work the machine. The instructions were in French, of course. I kind of aimlessly wandered around the station for about five minutes. I wanted to make sure I was leaving from the correct exit, and I wanted to be able to get a cab. I had written the address of my school on a sheet of a paper on the train because I wanted to be sure the cab driver knew where he was going.
I proceeded to the line of people waiting for cabs. I had been warned at orientation to only take the cabs that lined up at the "taxi" stands. As I was waiting for a cab, I saw a homeless person begging for money. After spending spring break in Italy during high school, I wasn't that thrown off by all the beggars. However, I did think it was a bit desperate to pick up a lit, unfinished cigarette off the ground. He then smoked it and continued begging. Ah, France.
After about 10 minutes, I snagged a cab and handed the driver the slip of paper with the address. He helped me with my bag and took me to my school. It was awesome just looking at all the buildings around Paris. I'll never forget the first time I saw the Bastille (now I see it nearly everyday). The sun was shining, and there were at least 100 cars whizzing around the Bastille. It reaffirmed the fact that I have absolutely no interest in driving in Paris. There were no lines on the cobblestone street. Cars weaved back and forth without turn signals. It was crazy.
Once I got to ACCENT (my program provider), my cab driver asked for more than was on the meter. At the time, I thought he was trying to scam me/knew I was an American. I gave him like a 16 euros for a 15.80 euro charge. Later, I realized the meter didn't include the charge for my bags... So I was a complete dick and tipped him basically nothing for helping me with my bags. I wouldn't blame him if he hated Americans a little more after driving me. Anyway, I had a minor panic because I forgot you had to walk down a courtyard to get to my building. It looked like my building didn't exist. I figured it out and lugged my over-sized suitcase and backpack to door.
The first thing I needed to do was get cash from the ATM. I joined a line and figured out how to work the machine. The instructions were in French, of course. I kind of aimlessly wandered around the station for about five minutes. I wanted to make sure I was leaving from the correct exit, and I wanted to be able to get a cab. I had written the address of my school on a sheet of a paper on the train because I wanted to be sure the cab driver knew where he was going.
I proceeded to the line of people waiting for cabs. I had been warned at orientation to only take the cabs that lined up at the "taxi" stands. As I was waiting for a cab, I saw a homeless person begging for money. After spending spring break in Italy during high school, I wasn't that thrown off by all the beggars. However, I did think it was a bit desperate to pick up a lit, unfinished cigarette off the ground. He then smoked it and continued begging. Ah, France.
After about 10 minutes, I snagged a cab and handed the driver the slip of paper with the address. He helped me with my bag and took me to my school. It was awesome just looking at all the buildings around Paris. I'll never forget the first time I saw the Bastille (now I see it nearly everyday). The sun was shining, and there were at least 100 cars whizzing around the Bastille. It reaffirmed the fact that I have absolutely no interest in driving in Paris. There were no lines on the cobblestone street. Cars weaved back and forth without turn signals. It was crazy.
Once I got to ACCENT (my program provider), my cab driver asked for more than was on the meter. At the time, I thought he was trying to scam me/knew I was an American. I gave him like a 16 euros for a 15.80 euro charge. Later, I realized the meter didn't include the charge for my bags... So I was a complete dick and tipped him basically nothing for helping me with my bags. I wouldn't blame him if he hated Americans a little more after driving me. Anyway, I had a minor panic because I forgot you had to walk down a courtyard to get to my building. It looked like my building didn't exist. I figured it out and lugged my over-sized suitcase and backpack to door.
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