My Birthday Adventures

People say that it's not all that exciting to turn 20 years old. Normally I'd agree with them, however, I turned 20 in France!

I decided that for my birthday on Wednesday, I wanted to venture outside of Clermont. My host family told me the night before about a little medieval town called Royat, which touches Clermont. Royat is supposedly famous for the healing powers of the water from its springs. Having nothing better to do with an afternoon, three friends and I hopped on a bus to Royat not really knowing where we were going or what exactly we were going to do. We just wanted to have a little adventure. We found a restaurant and had an amazing lunch (as if they're not all amazing), then hiked our butts up to the old downtown area. We visited a small church, which was under construction, after which we wandered around for a bit. There really didn't seem like that much to do, and we couldn't find the springs, so we waited around until the “Musée de Royat” opened up at 3.

The museum was situated in a small house, which should have been our first warning sign. Our second warning sign should have been the small bell-boy mannequin with one arm that greeted us at the door. (For any "Arrested Development" fans out there, we coined him "Baby Buster"). As soon as we entered, a flittering little Frenchman came down to greet us and whisked us off to the reception area, where he informed us that the tour would cost 3 euro per person. Not really knowing what was going on, we gave him our 3 euro. We asked how long the tour would take and he told us "a good hour". It's not nice to lie.

The museum had 6 rooms, and probably 15 full-sized mannequins. We skipped the first room and started our little learning adventure of the history of Royat. I was pretty interested for the first hour, I'm not gonna lie. After that, it was pure agony. Every time I’d start to space out or want to jump out the window, I’d see a person in the corner of my eye and wonder if they were as bored as I was until I’d turn my head and see that it was not a person in the corner of my eye, but one of the many freakish bug-eyed mannequins in this man’s personal collection. An hour and a half later, he finally announced that we were about to enter the last room – the costume and doll room. Feeling like I had rounded the bend in the last lap and that the finish line was in sight, I listened with great anticipation as our tour was coming to an end. As he finished showing us the last baby doll holding a miniature umbrella, he remembered that we had skipped the very first room. How dare we leave without seeing the fresque! He skittered off to the fresque and as we contemplated an escape. Unfortunately for us, he was waiting in the hall, standing between us and the exit. He quickly ushered us into the room with the fresque: a giant timeline (starting with the very beginning, like the first 7 days, and ending in 1972) that spanned the entire perimeter of the room. He then proceeded to talk us through the entire timeline. I thought I was literally going to die. I kept snickering to myself and almost completely lost it a couple times. I was fidgeting so much that I think I accidentally danced a jig in place. Well, maybe more like a waltz, because dancing a jig in place is pretty much just dancing a jig. It wouldn’t have been so bad if we hadn’t just spent the past hour and a half listening to all these exact same things in mannequin form. The only difference was that they were now before us in a timeline. At one point my phone rang and I thought we had an out for sure. Unfortunately, it didn’t work out that way. When it came down to it, I could tell how much the poor guy loved his job and I didn’t want to hurt his feelings. After finally finishing and forcibly signing the guest book, we all but ran from the museum. We spent over 2 and a half hours in that building. Afterwards, we were too blown away to look for the springs and just got back on the bus to Clermont. I’ll drink the water another day.

That night, my host mom made an especially delicious dinner, including pasta with mussel sauce and a homemade lemon tart. They stuck candles in the tart, sang to me, and gave me a very nice pair of earrings from Gallery Lafayette. They’re awfully kind to me. Shortly after, I headed out for the evening with the rest of the Kalamazoo crew plus four Frenchies. My K buddies surprised me with champagne and cake, so we celebrated for a little bit underneath a statue of Vercingetorix before going out for the night. Much merriment was to be had. The French boys told me that it was mandatory that I do something a little outlandish for my 20^th birthday, so to appease them, I ran through a row of about 10 fountains, one after the other, in the middle of Place de Jaude. One of my friends told me it was quite a sight to behold; I had four French boys running alongside me, filming the whole thing and yelling in French. We’re only young and stupid once, right?

My host mom told me at dinner that night that she hopes I’ll always remember my birthday in France. I’m pretty sure that won’t ever be a problem.

P.S. Mon cheri just found out that I'm American, not British. I'm afraid he might not be mon cheri for much longer...

Another little update...

May I just say, I love Caffe Cosy. Everytime I walk in their faces light up and they yell out "ah! c'est ma cherie!!" then proceed to ask me about my weekend, make fun of me, etc. Today when I came in, I pressed the "on" button to my computer but rather than turning on, it decided to make a God-awful screeching sound instead. The guys were yelling up to me from down below to make sure everything was okay, and when the one guy brought up my drink, he sat down with me to try and figure out what was wrong with my computer. I enjoy this place :)

This week has been kinda boring so far. The weekend was alright. Friday night, Sarah and I went to a movie accompanied by two of our Frenchies who we found don't really hate us afterall. As to whether or not it was a date...we really don't know. We still don't understand the rules of social conduct here, but we got friendly vibes from them, so we're thinking maybe guys and girls can be just friends? At anyrate, we went to see Little Miss Sunshine (a very good movie) and after watching an American movie, the boys really wanted to practice their English. We obliged, and it was pretty much the funniest thing ever. It took us about an hour alone to describe candy corn. We had so much fun just walking around CF and talking. I think we may have succeeded in making a couple French friends.

Saturday and Sunday were pretty much spent in bed and writing a paper because I'm sick and didn't really feel like doing anything else. Class was cancelled on Monday morning. Monday afternoon we had a Pepiniere meeting. Pepiniere is terrifying. It's a project for First-Years to develop a business plan for a new enterprise. I don't understand our topic and my group makes a lot of jokes that I don't understand. I ask questions though, and sometimes I understand the responses... I don't know why, but it is so much harder to understand people my own age, especially in large groups. Conversation happens so quickly and with a lot of slang. Pepiniere is going to be a real learning experience.

I had my first violin lesson yesterday. It lasted 15 minutes because the teacher was running late. He basically told me that the bow I rented sucked and that I needed to do something about it. I played a little bit for him (I haven't played all summer) and he told me that there were some good things and some "interesting" things. I've got a lot of work cut out for me.

I had no class today so I bought myself some birthday gifts (my birthday is tomorrow) - some shoes and some perfume :) I'm good to myself. Tomorrow we don't have class either... maybe I'll hop a bus to Vichy or something. I'm starting to get a little bored here... Hopefully that won't last. Okay, well I can't stand to be infront of my computer any longer. I hope all is well and I miss you all! xoxo

Domaine Royal de Randan

After a long and truthful discussion about Weekend of Integration with my host parents, my host mother Hélène decided that she needed to reconcile me with “la France” (although I insisted this was not the case and that it was only the students of l’ESC of whom I was weary). Every Thursday, Hélène goes hiking in the volcanoes with a group of friends (a very common pastime here in Clermont). Occasionally they pass up the hike and do a bit of sightseeing instead. Hélène was so kind as to invite me to go along yesterday on one of their excursions. I was fortunate enough to have the afternoon free, so Hélène and I, along with 18 other women, piled in cars and headed off to Domaine Royal de Randan: the last chateau of the royal family.

The chateau is situated in Randan, a tiny town between Vichy and Clermont-Ferrand, and was inhabited by Adélaïde d’Orléans, the sister and adviser of roi Louis-Philippe, the final king of France. Adélaïde acquired the property and restored and refurnished the chateau with the help of François-Léonard Fontaine, the premier architect of the kingdom, and Louis-Philippe himself. In 1925, the chateau caught fire and burned to the ground. Since 1999, the state has claimed the property and is doing it’s best to restore what’s left.

The place was pretty amazing. While the chateau itself is merely a brick frame with vegetation growing out of it, the parts that weren’t damaged by fire show how innovative the place had been for its time, including the complex heating and cooling systems and a generator that provided energy to the chateau before the rest of the town had electricity. I must not forget to say that the generator was decorated elaborately with many fleurs de lyses. The grounds are gorgeous and the gardens are well kept. Oh, and it was a beautiful day J

Before I sign off, I’d just like to say that I returned to Caffé Cosy yesterday to find that the baristas did indeed remember me and greeted me with, “Oh la, c’est ma Cherie?” They were quite pleased to see that their Cherie had returned and my original Cheri even went out of his way to tell the weird French guy, Giles, who randomly decided to sit down next to me and talk my ear off for 20 minutes straight that I was his Cherie. The look on Giles face was priceless. Giles was precious. He claimed he’d never spoken to an American before and was completely enamored with my computer, my keyboard, my computer cord, my plug adaptor, my cell phone, my web browser, and my email provider. He also thought Michigan was near Texas. Oh, Giles. At least I have mes Cheris. Maybe I’ll make a friend or two after all. Au revoir!

Some things I've learned

Well, I now have a week to catch up on. It's been a pretty difficult week, full of lots of awkward social situations and cultural confusion (nice alliteration, huh?).

Last Friday in our French Language and Culture class, we gave presentations on any topic that we wanted. I chose to give mine on Pope Urbain II and the Crusades (they started here in Clermont). The night before, we were invited to go out with a couple of guys from Sarah’s Pepinière group. Because of our presentations, we asked to go out Friday night instead. Sarah, Kelly and I went into it not really knowing what to expect. French boys had been overly nice to us and we knew that the French don't go on single dates unless they're really serious, and that they go out in big groups instead. As a result, we didn't really know if we had just been asked out on a group date or if they were just being nice and wanted to make some American friends. At any rate, on our way to the Café we were "hazed" by a group of second year students who attacked us with shaving cream, confetti, and alcohol. It was pretty ridiculous. These second years are part of the BDE which is the main student organization on campus that plans all the soirées and was in charge of the upcoming Weekend of Integration. The hazing was a little scary, but we had a really good time at the Café. The guys bought our drinks and then they insisted that we sing a karaoke song as part of our "integration". They ended up coming up there to help us out because we sounded so bad! What did they expect; we were singing a song we’d never heard before, in another language! After the karaoke, the guys really wanted to go to the discothèque. I can now say I've had my first discothèque experience, and it was truly amusing.

Sunday, we left for Weekend of Integration: a weekend trip that all of the first year students at ESC go on to make friends and apparently to drink excessively. We boarded the buses at 6:30 in the morning, and by 7, the BDE (main student organization) was literally pouring alcohol down everyone's throats. They had filled containers that you are supposed to use for fertilizing lawns and were using them to pump alcohol into everyone’s mouths. I don't even know how to describe the chaos of the bus. They were singing and cheering and dancing and yelling. At one point we were even written on with permanent marker. We had to introduce ourselves to the whole bus and individually sing a song. The only French song I can sing is “Alouette” so I made the whole bus sing along with me. Oh yes, and the bus ride was about 7 hours long. We ended up at a resort in the South-West of France, near Italy. We were in a town called Fréjus, which is near St. Tropez. The bus drivers were so mean as to tell us we were going to the beach, drive us along the coast, then tell us the beaches were closed and that we'd have to swim in the pool at the resort instead. At least I got a glimpse of the Mediterranean. I was oh so happy to get off of that bus.

We stayed in little "bungalows", which were really just trailers. It was like a giant trailer park with a pool and a night club. Sarah, Kelly and I shared a trailer with 3 French girls who were really nice. We unpacked our stuff and headed to the pool for a little bit, then had dinner as one big group. Conversation was impossible during dinner, seeing as people were cheering, singing, and standing on the benches. I should say that this was mostly the guys. They have one song that they sing where they call on a guy to stand up on the table and get completely naked. This is their idea of fun. I was mortified when the guy I was sitting next to was called on. Oh, la France.

After dinner, there was more cheering and singing, always the cheering and the singing, and then we all went off to the club. Dancing was fun, but not drama free. Many a cultural boundary was crossed in the club on behalf of the girls of Kalamazoo, and while I personally was not crossing them, I became quite the shoulder to cry on. I also became quite the liaison between the French and the Americans since I definitely had more than one person approach me and ask me to tell one or more of my friends that they needed to calm down. The next day was spent in bed and at the pool. Monday night was an exact repeat of Sunday night. Boundaries in the club were restored and respected, but I do believe the damage is done. Tuesday afternoon we returned to Clermont-Ferrand. I’m happy to say the 7 hour bus ride was much more docile on the return.

I really cannot figure out how I feel about the weekend. Parts of it were so shitty and I just wanted to go home. Other parts were really fun and I enjoyed myself a lot. It was just such a strange weekend and I really felt the cultural differences. I guess to better explain myself, here’s a list of things I’d been told before coming to France that were proven to me this weekend and this morning after a discussion with our program director:

1. Dating is completely different in France. French people don’t go out on single dates, but date in groups instead. Dating is also completely artificial. It’s based on appearance solely. Conversation comes later. Whereas in the U.S., relationships start out based on friendship and getting to know one another, it’s completely not like that here. It starts based on physical attraction, and then you get to know one another later.

2. Guys and girls can’t be friends because the guys always have other intentions. But you can’t date them either because they’re only interested in how you look. But literally, guys and girls don’t mix. For this reason, we thought we were being slighted by our “new friends” we made on Friday when they weren’t exactly the friendliest to us this weekend. Really, they just realized we weren’t going to date any of them and therefore have no more use for us. This sucks because we really want to be their friends, but guys and girls don’t hang out in groups unless they’re dating.

3. French girls and American girls can’t be friends because there is “too much competition” over the guys. They don’t want to be our friends, and after this weekend and the spectacle that we made, I don’t blame them. The girls we shared our bungalow with were nice, but they weren’t afraid to tell my friends what they thought of them and their behavior either.

4. Circles of friends are made early on. Once they’re formed, it’s significantly harder to get in. But once you do make it in, you’re friends with everyone in that circle.

5. When in a club, if you are going to dance with anyone, you are to choose only one person and dance with that one person all night long. If you do that, you’re pretty much in a relationship without knowing it. If you dance with more than one person, apparently you’re promiscuous. You are definitely not to kiss anyone unless you’re serious. It’s better to dance completely alone.

6. Guys can drink as much as they want and be as stupid and promiscuous as they want. It does not work the same way for girls, especially not for American girls.

This was definitely a weekend of cultural trial and error. Unfortunately, I think it favored more the side of error. Equally unfortunate, I think the American girls on campus have created quite a little reputation for ourselves, even if we weren’t all sharing the same behavior. It sucks, and now that I understand the rules of social conduct here in France, I’m convinced that I’m not going to make any French friends while I’m here. I have a feeling it’s going to be a pretty lonely 6 months.

Well, I’m here to learn, and I’m learning, right? I guess I can just be glad that I personally wasn’t the cause of any of the drama. Unfortunately, I still have to bear the brunt of it and share in our cute little reputation. Good thing our school is made up of only 500 kids... (With a hint of sarcasm). I hope I’m being overly dramatic and that I’m proven wrong. Time will tell.

Well, I wish it was this easy to write the paper that I need to turn in on Monday. I guess I should start that… Hope everyone is well and I miss you all!! (Obviously!)

"Un Mocha, mon Chéri!"

I just had the best "faux-pas" ever.

I'm sitting in a cafe right now, Cafe Cosy, and there are two adorable guys working the counter. I went to order my drink and I couldn't decide, so they told me to take my time. As I was browsing the menu, I saw that there was a drink called "Mocha Cherry". Well, the "ch" sound really doesn't exist in the French language, so I thought that I would try and pass myself off as a local (what was I thinking?) and pronounce it as "Sherry". In effect, I said to the barista "Je voudrais un Mocha (pause) Sherry, s'il vous plait". They guys chuckled and said "non non, c'est Cherry, pas Sherry". I laughed because I thought I understood - sherry, like the alcohol. So I tried to be funny and say it again in a silly voice as if I wanted alcohol in my coffee. They laughed again and corrected me again, saying "non, c'est Cherry, comme une cerise (cherry)." I figured my joke was lost and went upstairs and set up my computer and started talking to my mom via Skype. He brought us our drinks, and then 5 minutes later came back with a free sample that he made just for my friend Lauren and I. I made another stupid joke about "sherry" and we laughed. I then figured out that I wasn't saying "sherry", like the alcohol, but "chéri", like "my love". I literally said to the man, "I would like a mocha, my love." Oh my goodness! No wonder he's bringing us free samples!! My mom and I started crying because we were laughing so hard. I can't believe I totally didn't get the joke! The other barista came upstairs and overheard me laughing to myself, so I had to explain to him that I was talking to my mom over the internet. He came over and started speaking into my microphone to her! What an ordeal! Pronounciation is risky. You have to really know what you're saying and how to say it! Here I am worried about the guys that keep approaching me and asking if I "have boyfriend" when in reality, they should apparantly be watching out for me! "Chéri!" Ha!

This language thing is a hoot. Well, I should actually do some work. Ugh. I hope you all found that as amusing as my mom and I did.

Lot's of love! Thanks for the emails, I love them dearly!

Ness

Another post!

Okay, I actually wrote this blog like 3 days ago, but I've had trouble posting. This site doesn't always like me and I have pretty limited internet access...

Hello again,

Well, I’m already 12 days into my adventure and I can hardly believe it. Things are pretty much going smoothly. I have a host family now! They came and picked me up from Bernard’s on Thursday. They’re pretty much close to amazing. M and Mme DeLafforest have 4 daughters, only one of which will be living at home while I’m here (the others will be leaving for school shortly, minus Sophie, the eldest, who is mentally handicapped and lives in a home elsewhere).

The youngest one, Raphaelle, is absolutely a doll. She is 12 and she attends an international school in Clermont-Fd where she spends half of her day taking classes in French and the other half of the day taking classes in English. As it turns out, she studies violin and plays in the orchestra at the conservatory, which is where I will eventually be taking lessons. In fact, I rented a violin on Saturday which is costing me 76 Euros for 3 months. I hope it’s worth it! I decided I would give it a go on Saturday while the family was taking the second oldest to the train station. They came home while I was playing and Raphaelle couldn’t wait to get her hands on it. She pulled out her own violin and we played Pachabel’s Canon together. Rapha was really excited, and unfortunately for me, when Rapha gets excited, she speaks extremely fast! Anyway, this should be really good. Mme DeLafforest has high hopes that I’ll kick Raphaelle’s butt and make her practice.

The next youngest is Beatrice, who is 17. She is heading off tomorrow for her first year away at university (the French education system is quite a bit different. For example, I’m attending a grad school, but all the first year French students are also 20). Her school is in Paris and she’s quite nervous to leave home. She’s running around like crazy trying to get everything ready to go. She’s really interested in American culture and likes to talk about American movies, TV, and music.

The second oldest is Caroline, 20, and she attends a school about 4.5 hrs away from here by train. She is also studying biology! She left yesterday afternoon to return to school and take a small test for her English class for which I’ve helped her prepare. She’ll come back in a few days and then leave for school in the middle of October when her semester starts. In the winter, she’s going to study abroad in Prague.

As you can see, I have lots in common with these three. They’re fabulous, and it is incredible how well they get along with one another, considering the age gap. Yesterday, Rapha was crying because she’s sad that her sisters are leaving her and for the first time ever, it will just be her and her parents. This is where I had to play the awkward foreign student role and remind her that she wouldn’t be alone, but she’d have me, the weirdo that lives in her home and only understands half of what’s said to her (for the other half she just smiles and nods, or laughs uncomfortably).

The apartment is quite old and charming. It’s on a really nice street with lots of stores underneath. I have my own room with my own shower (it’s really Bea’s room, but she’s leaving for school). You can’t imagine how good it felt to unpack my bags and have my own space after living out of suitcases for so long (which didn’t even show up with the plane).

That's where I left off the other day. Just to quickly update, orientation with the other french first years started yesterday. We sat through a presentation by the faculty in the morning and then did a "Brise Glace" activity in the afternoon (ice breaker), which was terrifying. We had to do a bunch of get to know you games, which was really difficult because it's a lot harder to understand French people my own age than adults. They talk a lot faster and with a lot of slang (naturally). Afterwards, the school offered us champaign and we had a little mixer. Needless to say, this made it a little easier to meet people. The guys here are very forward and it's kinda scary. Almost immediately after they ask your name they ask, "you have boyfriend?" It's a bit much.

Today we sat through the most boring presentation ever. We were told by the school we needed to go to this meeting, but it didn't pertain to us at all. For the first 1.5 hours, the speaker talked about classes the other kids would take over the course of their 3 years here. For the other 1.5 hrs, the speaker basically lectured us on how to use a computer. It was totally useless. This afternoon we ran around and registered ourselves all around town, at the library, at the conservatory, etc.

Well I should go, I miss you all!!

Blahhhhh

Bonjour mes amis,

Well, things are getting better here in la-la-land…or should I say blah-blah land. Since my last post, I’ve received my luggage (Wahoo! It felt just like Christmas), but I still have not received a single word from my host family. I’m a little discouraged because I’m really getting comfortable here at Bernard’s. According to M. Faure, my family should be back today. I guess we’ll see…

School “started” on Monday. The other first year students at l’ESC (Ecole Superior de Commerce) will join us next week for a larger orientation, but for the present, it’s just our group from Kalamazoo. So far we only have one class, “French language and civilization”, which we have every day this week from 9h00 to 17h30 with a 1.5h break for lunch. That’s one class for 7 hours with the same professor, who just happens to look like a tres chic female version of Professor Snape from Harry Potter. She’s terrifying. Her name is Mme Fox-Muraton and she is very French. So far in this class, we’ve practiced our pronunciation, conjugated verbs, read the newspaper, watched the news on TV, listened to music, completed lots of grammar exercises, and who knows what else. It’s basically a crash course in all things French.

After class on Monday morning, we met the other faculty members with whom we’re going to be interacting. Of the four people we met, two are British and the other two are American. The two British people are the coordinators of the international program, and the two Americans are English teachers at l’ESC who are to be our “tutors” if we need help in any of our courses. While all four of them obviously speak English, we have to speak to them in French at all times. We all went out for lunch together and it was the strangest thing to me to be speaking in French with a large group of people who all spoke English as their native language. One of the Brits has a very pronounced British accent when she speaks French. It’s very different sounding!

My head is absolutely swimming. I find that I never know what language I’m supposed to be speaking and when, nor do I ever know what exactly is going to come out of my mouth. I do alright when I’m just speaking French, but when I try to revert back to English to talk to my friends and family or to write anything, like this post, I get confused because I’m still trying to think in French. My Kalamazoo friends and I try to speak to each other constantly in French, but sometimes we just can’t express ourselves the way we’d like to, so we give in and speak in English. This is going to have to change. I’m thinking it’s got to be all or nothing. Franglais does not truly exist!

I feel pretty good about the whole language thing so far. I’ve received many compliments from French speaking people, which is encouraging, until I realized tonight that I’ve been responding to them with, “j’essaie”, which means “I’m trying”, but sounds a lot like “je sais”, which means “I know”. Unfortunately, I fear that I’ve been pronouncing “j’essaie” as the latter… What I might as well be saying is “Hello, I’m arrogant.” I know for sure I made this mistake on Sunday night when Josh, Bernard and I dined with Bernard’s girlfriend and her neighbors. There were at least 8 people at our table, excluding Josh and I, who all were speaking rapid-fire French. They all talked over one another at the same time; I hardly understood a word. I came away from that experience very discouraged. Ah well, I’m learning. I hope that in time, I’ll be able to keep up with conversations like those.

I suppose that’s enough for now. I’m sorry if these posts are too long, but I have an awful lot to say! Au revoir!

P.S. The French are very good looking! Bernard has a couple of good looking sons himself, including two that I’ve met. For this reason, I like les bisous (the two customary kisses on the cheek when you meet someone)! J

The first couple days

Oh my goodness. I'm here, in France, without my luggage, and without my host family! Things don't always go according to plan, do they? Here's how the story goes…

We left Detroit at 7 pm on Thursday and arrived in Paris at around 8:30 am Friday. We had a 7 hr delay before hopping on our plane to Clermont-Ferrand. We arrived an hour later and while we waited for our luggage to arrive, we could see the families and the program director, M. Faure, waiting for us on the other side of the glass. Long story short, 3 out of 7 of us received our luggage; I was not one of them. We left the carousel to go meet our families and M. Faure informed me that the father of my family lost his step-mother the day before and that I would be staying with Josh’s host-father, Bernard, for the time being. So, there you have it: no clothes and no family. Luckily my Mom and Dad convinced me to pack an entire extra set of clothing in my carry-on bag. Unfortunately, I don’t have any toiletries because of the whole no liquids thing. Supposedly the airline will deliver my luggage in the next two days. We’ll see about that.

Bernard is really nice. He’s divorced and lives on his own in a very small apartment. He has four grown sons; the youngest is 20 and is studying medicine at one of the universities in town, where he has an apartment. The next youngest is Julien, whom we met yesterday. Julien is 24 and went to film school and now edits films somewhere. The other sons are 27 and 29; one is a doctor and the other is a journalist. Of course they are all athletic and musically talented too... Bernard better watch out! Bernard is a "professor du sport"... my best guess is either a P.E. teacher or coach of some sort. He also referees rugby games. I guess he played rugby for a number of years. Anyway, he loves sports, and he loves to talk about sports. If you know me, you know that I don't love sports, so I'm trying.

When we returned home from the airport, Bernard showed us around the apartment and told me that I would sleep in his bed... He told me it was big enough for two people, and that I could borrow his pajamas. Oh, and that his son shares the room too. Oh mon Dieu. Naturally, I assume the worst and think that he is telling me that he and I, or Julien and I would be sharing his bed. Fortunately, I was wrong. He meant that the bed was two matresses pushed together, therefore making it a very large bed. I haven't figured out the part about his son yet because as far as I can tell, he doesn't live there.

Last night was very calm. We walked down to the park where there were tons of people playing basketball, volleyball, and tennis. Julien and Josh played for a while and Bernard and I watched. Bernard made us dinner... boxed mashed potatoes with cheese, a pork chop, toasted sliced white bread, cheese, and salad. A little surprising, but good nonetheless. After dinner, we pretty much went to bed; Bernard spent the night at his "friend"'s house... I get the feeling she's a little more than a friend.

I slept for 12 hrs last night! It felt great. Bernard made a very good lunch: sausage, cheese, bread, baked chicken (with a few feathers), salad, yogurt, and cookies. I was glad to see that the boxed mashed potatoes didn't make a reappearance. After lunch, Josh and I headed out to see what we could see. Wow. It's so awesome here. The downtown area is so much fun - shops and cafes everywhere. There's a giant cathedral in the center of town built in the 13th century and made of volcanic rock. It's beautiful. You can see the volcanos from pretty much everywhere, and the tallest point, le Puy de Dome, has a giant TV antenna on it. It's quite a sight. Josh and I prefer to think of it as a giant castle on the top of the Dome. We walked down the street that I'm going to be living on and it looks so cute. It looks like apartments over store fronts. I can't wait, although I must say, I'm getting a little too comfortable at Bernard's. I have to do the awkward get-to-know-the-host-family thing twice. Well, on our walk about town, Josh and I also happened to stumble upon a WiFi hotspot, Cafe Cosy. It's exactly my type of place. A trendy little coffee shop with free wireless access. That's where I'm sitting right now!

This post is probably already too long, so I should probably move on. There is so much more I could say! Another time. Hope all is well and I miss everyone tons already!!