And so, here I am, in gay Pair-ee. There are barely words to discribe my mélange of emotions right now, relief and fatigue and excitement. So I’ve been gone less than 24 hours and already things are looking so so bright. A little recap of the day for those who might be interested...
The flights went super smoothly. My bag was overweight by four pounds and according to some thrifty new guidelines I should’ve had to pay $50 for it, but the check-in lady let it slide (more on those four pounds in a moment). No problems except extreme sleeping on my part. I literally can’t stay awake on a plane for more than five minutes. I did watch most of “The Bucket List” but that was definitely time that I should’ve spent sleeping. Note to Beth–”Step Up 2: The Streets” was playing on the plane and I definitely didn’t watch it, although I did consider how you would be mad at me if I didn’t. Props to Continental for their frequent meal services. I think I got like six meals and nineteen drinks on my total 9 hour flight time. Note to Mom: Maybe we should have gotten the travel insurance, Continental is going to wine and dine themselves out of business.
So according to some super sketchy instructions from the Alliance Française, I managed to arrive from the Charles de Gaulle Airport right to the steps of the school. Unfortunately, they are apparently closed on the weekends. Luckily, some super nice man was there who worked there and showed me how to get my homestay house. This was communicated entirely in French. Cha-ching. I was definitely feeling those four pounds of suitcase that the check-in lady graciously let slide as I dragged my 54 pound bag up and down and up and down flights of steps in the Paris metro.
Finally, I arrived at Madame Boulesteix’s apartment in Ivry-sur-Seine, a suburb about 30 minutes or so outside of the heart of Paris. I had read that Ivry is the Chinatown district in Paris, so I was actually worried that she might be Asian. My senses were definitely confused to see all these Asian children and writing on the signs. Again with the schlepping of the bag down several (wrong) streets. And then, this is of course the climax of the whole story:
This place is awesome! Her apartment is super cool! She is extremely nice, doesn’t speak any English (perfect!) and has two other students from Mexico staying here too (who I haven’t met). She told me to call her Marie-Claire (just like my favorite song about Paris, “Where Do You Go To My Lovely” from the Darjeeling Limited) and told me to “tutoier” her, which means to use the informal “you” pronoun, which is a sign of friendship. The best part: My room is amazing! It is teeny, with a double bed that takes up like the entire room, and a dresser and a TV. There is a window that opens and right outside is the “Moulin Blanche”, a huge old white windmill, right in the middle of Ivry-sur-Seine! I could not ask for a better view at all. This is Paris, real Paris, not postcard Paris. I am so so excited about the next eight weeks and how much I am going to learn and discover! I miss you all, but I am très happy to be here! I am going to sleep now, and I can think of nothing better.
