Times, They Are a Changin'

What has it been, three days? Three days since I moved into my homestay. And already I'm better at French. Not only that, but I really love this family. I met the older kids today (and a few others), and for a few minutes we just drank champagne, savored le saucisson, and laughed and joked. I feel so welcome; whether it was because of "les bises" (cheek kisses), or the champagne or my miraculous ability to speak decently, I don't know.

What I do know is that the French know how to have family. They have lots of kids, which in turn turns into lots of good food, lots of laughs, and just good humor all around. Je l'aime bien.

Yesterday I was able to escape from the overwhelming all-French atmosphere and meet my friend Annie for a day of tourism. We perused the Musee d'Orsay--almost the whole thing, I was so proud of myself--Van Gogh is my favorite part--then we strolled down the chic Saint Germain Boulevard, got sandwiches at a local shop, explored the most beautiful gardens in paris--Les Jardins de Luxembourg--wandered around the French quarter and got some to-die-for Biscotti & Chocolate/Hazelnut gelatto, went to a very traditional mass at the grand old church St. Germain de Pres, explored my quartier a little more, and had a delectable dinner at a local pizzeria, La Mamma, where we made all the fabulous French turn over in their graves when we asked to take our leftovers home.

It's not perfect. Paris and Parisiens still have their faults like the rest of the world. I can't smile and say hi to people on the street like I do in California or they do in Morocco. It's just the French way. But in exchange for the chance to gaze at the Eiffel Tower while I wash my hair, go to a jazz club with friends in any given night, and find something new to explore around every corner...it's a small price to pay.