jeudi 25 mai 2012:  Le Premier Post 

If you lost sleep and missed work these past three days due to constantly refreshing my blog page and hoping for a post, my deepest apologies for failing your expectations. I haven’t been exactly as on top of this whole blogging thing since I got here—there has been so much to see and do! And so much effort trying to get by body used to Paris time.

 My first day here, I felt like I had been awake for 24 hours…and that’s probably because I had been awake for 24 hours, minus a maximum of 2 hours on the plane ride. So by the time I finally arrived in Paris, I was just dazed and jet lagged enough to believe I was dreaming. Fortunately, a nice chauffer (organized and paid for by my organization—whoop!) carried my bag for me, which by the way weighed 52 pounds and was marked as heavy: Score.

The first day I arrived at my host family’s apartment, I was welcomed by my host father Olivier, who showed me around the apartment (kitchen, toilettes, my bedroom, how to lock the doors, etc.) But being French, he didn’t show me he and his wife’s bedroom. One never shows guests the bedroom: there is a huge distinction between the private and the public—as I am slowly learning. It takes a bit to get used to, because it doesn’t mean that they don’t want to talk to you, or to be asked questions about their life. It just means that there’s not the southern hospitality that I’m used to seeing in the south, where you can strike up conversation with someone in the bathroom while washing your hands. That does not happen here.

The apartment is small, but very charming and simple. The windows are always open, to let in the cool air. The kitchen is small and not the center of attention, like one finds usually in Texas. The central rooms are the dining room and le salon (the living room), which are full of many chairs and vases of fresh flowers.

The LaCroix family lives on the 4th floor of an apartment, and there is a staircase leading up to a loft (where my room is), which is on the 5th floor. So I can come and go through the hall on the 5th floor as I please). My bedroom is very quaint and amiable, with a window looking over the street and the small high school across the street. My host family has been a huge blessing to me: Beatrice et Olivier are husband and wife, and they have children who are now grown up and working/married.

This weekend we are all going to their family home in the countryside! They said we’d play tennis, drink wine, eat cheese, and of course du pain frais (fresh bread!). Beatrice and Olivier are so welcoming to me: the first day, Beatrice showed me around Paris, and helped me familiarize myself with how the metro works, helped me buy a French phone, etc. She almost made me cry out of gratefulness when she said in French so kindly, “If you need anything ever, you call me and tell me. You are not here alone, Jennifer.”

Yesterday and today, my friend Kim (another A&M student who came to be an intern in Paris through the same organization) and I met up to take the metro together to the organization’s office for a sort of “orientation.” A super super friendly and warm woman named Julie met us and spent the morning talking with us about cultural differences between French and Americans, about the different quarters of Paris (which are the best, which to avoid, etc), and then she took us to eat lunch at the Jardins de Luxembourg!

With all of the young people around us lounging with friends, taking selfies with their skinny jeans and scarves on, I couldn’t help but want to tell them: “Do you realize where you are?? You are in the LUXEMBOURG GARDENS.” I wonder if they take it for granted that they live here. Maybe I would if I would if I had grown up here too! Of course, I take the ball building in downtown Dallas for granted. I know that tourists worldwide come to see its grandeur. Bah no?

I don’t know how the Parisienne women do it! They wear high heels every day (because une parisienne always dresses for the runway—even just to get a baguette)—I wore a new pair of flats that hadn’t been broken in yet, and my feet were killing me by the end of yesterday. Today I have shin splints, alas marking me as a hopeless tourist.

But I am trying my hardest to observe and mimic the Parisiens in the street to see how they dress, walk, and carry themselves. Practically, this means that I have been dressing in mainly darker colors (and neutrals). And to look especially French, you walk quickly with your bag under your clenched arm, keep your head down, and don’t smile or make eye contact. Especially don’t go in the metro talking loud in English and walking flashily with bright colors on. I am learning that sticking out like a tourist leads to glares and being pegged as a target for pickpocketing.

(The above photo was taken via Hipstamatic,
not Instagram like the other mainstreamers ;)

I enjoyed lots of alone time today. I sat outside in a shaded garden with un café au lait (I lied, I had 3. Don’t judge.) And my laptop, typing my thoughts and reading the following book: It’s a book of common French phrases and words used everyday by real French people—not just the stuff in the textbooks that we learned in high school. Needless to say, I’m still trying to block out a few of the mental pictures produced by some of the things that were defined. But there were many very practical things that I took notes on so I’d never forget:

To be cross-eyed: avoir un oeil qui dit merde a l'autre (translate this literally haha). 
Yuk!: Beurk! 
Ouch/ow! Aie! Ouille! 
Un pot au feu: a stay at home spinster (literally, a dish of boiled beef and vegetable)
To burp: roter 
A midget: un nabot. 

I also spent time at a café with a glass of du vin rosé (pink/rose wine) and wrote post cards, and read a magazine, as well as ordered une salade (15 euros…~$19) and fresh bread. The French keep their bread that they're eating on the table above the fork. Get used to crumbs.

Summary of today: I had plenty of Jennifer time, while people watching and pretending to be a snobby Parisienne ☺

Tomorrow, I’ll get to sleep in a bit, and then I will stay Saturday night with my host family at their country home 45 min from Paris!

A tout à l’heure, Jennifer