s'habituer: to get used to. This word could be the title of my next ten posts, I bet. There is a lot for me to m'habituer to.To the left is my host kitty, Lily (Leelee). She sleeps in my room all the time, probably because there are no screaming or crying girls here. Usually.
My host little sisters are too cute, but constant drama. I'm pretty sure they're crying and screaming about nothing, but with them any French listening comprehension skills I might have had are out the window. Slang + tears + very high speaking speeds = pardon?
Oh, pardon. I really had no idea how often I was going to use that word here. It's constant: on the streets, in shops, people are pushing all over the place (pardon), I need help from someone (pardonnez-moi, Madame/Monsieur), and at home, when I can't understand someone in the family (pardon??? with a face of I'msosorryIthoughtIspokeFrenchbutIguessIdon't).
I'm very happy here, especially because the sun is coming out! I think the temperatures are still pretty close to freezing (0-8 degrees Celsius = in the 30s Fahrenheit), but at least now I can open my windows a little bit. I have another week of language instruction + classes in the different methods that the French use to write. Then the week after that I will start real university classes, but my school is such that they have no idea what time any of the classes will be right now, so I can't really pick my classes until Thursday, when we get a schedule.
I'm going to go take a walk and take more pictures of the park around the corner from my house (le jardin public) where the pond has been frozen all week. Everything (I mean everything) is closed on Sunday here (I think it's a law). It's time to be with family, and if that quality time has to be government-mandated then so be it. Vive la France.
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Salut Julia!
ReplyDeleteYour blog is so cute! I hope your "habituer-ing" is going well:) It's funny, when I first went to France the two major things I noticed were also how much you say "pardon" and the pain of nothing being open on Sunday-- which, funny enough, is actually a law. Good luck with classes!!
Is that little park near your house (I have no idea of the damn French name) anything like Willard? Besides the frozen pond of course. Wait, ice not in the feezer on my ice cream? I don't understand.
ReplyDeleteI am traveling with my French friend, and my German friend and I are trying to get him to make real French crepes tonight at our hostal. We had baguette this morning from an actual French bakery (that's what happens when you are in tourist central Cusco) and Brice kept telling me (in Spanish) ¨this is what bread REALLY is, you stupid American.¨ Wait, where am I? Thinking of you, no matter where I am.