Sometimes (just sometimes) in a world where you don't understand the language, you make people laugh until they cry with the silly misunderstandings you make.
Context: I've written out my home address for my host brother's wife so she can write a letter to my parents.
Host Sister (points to the ground): You can leave the paper on the ground.
Me: What? Is there something wrong with my shoes? I'll go take them off. (I take off my shoes).
Host Sister: Non non non, leave it on the ground.
Me: My socks too?
I got the message after that.
I swear I'm getting better, I correct myself all the time and speeeaaaak sloooowly to diminish my whomping accent (I think it's getting worse).
Currently reading a Chair de Poule novel (GOOSEBUMPS! IT STILL EXISTS) in french. I have an easily awakened imagination, and have to be careful when I read and watch scary things. Being a somnambule (sleep walker) and vivid dreamer, I often reenact scenes. For the sanity of my host family, I only read it over breakfast.
Phrase of the day: Calme-toi.
Calm yourself.
Showing posts with label NICE TRY. Show all posts
Showing posts with label NICE TRY. Show all posts
Monday, October 17, 2011
Saturday, August 27, 2011
Butterflies in My Tummy
Geee I'm nervous.
I'm starting university in a country where I can barely speak the language (not barely, but on a scale of one to brilliant, I'm a five).
On Wednesday I enroll. I'm moving in with another family for 3.5 months on Monday, signing myself up for tango classes, getting a train pass, working my way around one of the best public transportation systems in the world and trying not to explode from all the good food I've been eating. I've got to manage to pronounce things correctly (they've got this terrible habit of making normal words sound EXACTLY like swear words. I get laughed at all the time.) and learn as fast as I can so I can do fun things. Like do the tango and go to the French cinema and take advantage of all these seriously awesome discounts they give us studious ones. Nantes takes culture SERIOUSLY and so every thursday-sunday we have these big parties campus wide where you can entertain yourself with theatre, dance, clubbing, making friends and hundreds of other things.
It's days like these I want to hold someone's hand and have a responsibilibuddy to tell me what to do. Is this what it is like, being an adult?
At least there is a Jules Verne museum, so I can go enjoy science fiction and look adorable in the nautical pattern that was originated here. And there is pretty much the only Indian restaurant in all of France in Nantes (the French aren't generally so keen on spicy food). You can even get a crepe with your curry.
And my grandparents live a hour away by train or car, I've got wonderful friends nearby, headache medecine is subsidized for students (when you are learning another language, it is rather necessary, or even just a good nights sleep).
Plus I've got all these fantastique people from this place called Minnesota who send me funny emails and encourage me. So it's not all scary. It's just a little scary right before you go be independent.
Grunkle was telling me about how when he was seven he was put on a train with a ticket around his neck that read where he was supposed to get off. He then was shipped off to boarding school and was largely independent until he left (at which point he was completely independent). At least I'm a decade older and the only ticket around my neck is one I signed up for.
I'm starting university in a country where I can barely speak the language (not barely, but on a scale of one to brilliant, I'm a five).
On Wednesday I enroll. I'm moving in with another family for 3.5 months on Monday, signing myself up for tango classes, getting a train pass, working my way around one of the best public transportation systems in the world and trying not to explode from all the good food I've been eating. I've got to manage to pronounce things correctly (they've got this terrible habit of making normal words sound EXACTLY like swear words. I get laughed at all the time.) and learn as fast as I can so I can do fun things. Like do the tango and go to the French cinema and take advantage of all these seriously awesome discounts they give us studious ones. Nantes takes culture SERIOUSLY and so every thursday-sunday we have these big parties campus wide where you can entertain yourself with theatre, dance, clubbing, making friends and hundreds of other things.
It's days like these I want to hold someone's hand and have a responsibilibuddy to tell me what to do. Is this what it is like, being an adult?
At least there is a Jules Verne museum, so I can go enjoy science fiction and look adorable in the nautical pattern that was originated here. And there is pretty much the only Indian restaurant in all of France in Nantes (the French aren't generally so keen on spicy food). You can even get a crepe with your curry.
And my grandparents live a hour away by train or car, I've got wonderful friends nearby, headache medecine is subsidized for students (when you are learning another language, it is rather necessary, or even just a good nights sleep).
Plus I've got all these fantastique people from this place called Minnesota who send me funny emails and encourage me. So it's not all scary. It's just a little scary right before you go be independent.
Grunkle was telling me about how when he was seven he was put on a train with a ticket around his neck that read where he was supposed to get off. He then was shipped off to boarding school and was largely independent until he left (at which point he was completely independent). At least I'm a decade older and the only ticket around my neck is one I signed up for.
Saturday, August 20, 2011
Goodbye Parents, Hello Gap Year!
The best quote so far came from breakfast today. My Granny Peppa, the usual font of wisdom and sass, came out with this one.
"People who fight over the little things tend to agree on the big ones."
This is essentially my relationship with my entire family. We squabble, whine, bicker and argue, but when it really gets down to it, we are of one mind. The same is with Granny and her beloved Grunkle. I've never heard an argument over when to change the water in the flower pots for a half an hour before. Or a seriously heated discussion over how one ought to attend to the toaster whilst it does its business. But I learn things everyday, mainly..
a) do not mess with Grunkle's vegetable garden
b) chlorine turning one's hair green isn't a good excuse for not swimming in the pool.
c) Lifting anything will give me back problems.
d) do not hit croquet balls off the croquet lawn and into the veg garden.
Today we visited the fairy rock, which was surrounded by ominous messages in French about how if you vandalize the place, the fairies will get you. We saw no vandalism. Or vandalisers for that matter.
My family left me today, gone back to the United States. Our first motion passed (my Grandparents and I) was to convene over a lunch of cake, ice cream and orange juice. When Grunkle complained about the lack of veggies, he was told sternly to "take what you've got and be grateful." Quite right.
As Granny says, Grunkle is completely bone from the neck up (not) and is "just arm candy and great for carrying things" (and gardening).
Speaking of not so stupid people, I've found it very amusing when people disagree or tell me to do things I don't want to, to pull out the old trick of "I don't speak any french... I'm just an American visitor." Grunkle tried this in the US when getting out of a parking ticket. Unfortunately the cop started speaking fluent french back to him. NICE TRY!
Grunkle is now complaining about how his weekly "soft porn" magazine of Madame Figaro (it's no more pornographic than most things in French advertising, which is to say VERY) is "going downhill. It's just a bunch of bloody children." He forgot to read the cover and see that it is the annual kid's issue.
Earlier today as I was about to leave for work at the Taste of Happiness, I left my elders admiring my collection of 70s male fashion post cards, a packet of "mail order hunks" with the most ridiculous and innuendo'd gentleman ever to deface a scrap of paper.
Work today was GREAT! I got to stick together macaroons, eat all the broken ones and was introduced to everyone as the "young American visiting us." Which led to questions of "do you know so-and-so?" Um, well the US does have quite of few people... Unfortunately I don't think we've met.
Fashion Statement of the day: Couple walked in wearing matching leather fedoras.
"People who fight over the little things tend to agree on the big ones."
This is essentially my relationship with my entire family. We squabble, whine, bicker and argue, but when it really gets down to it, we are of one mind. The same is with Granny and her beloved Grunkle. I've never heard an argument over when to change the water in the flower pots for a half an hour before. Or a seriously heated discussion over how one ought to attend to the toaster whilst it does its business. But I learn things everyday, mainly..
a) do not mess with Grunkle's vegetable garden
b) chlorine turning one's hair green isn't a good excuse for not swimming in the pool.
c) Lifting anything will give me back problems.
d) do not hit croquet balls off the croquet lawn and into the veg garden.
Today we visited the fairy rock, which was surrounded by ominous messages in French about how if you vandalize the place, the fairies will get you. We saw no vandalism. Or vandalisers for that matter.
My family left me today, gone back to the United States. Our first motion passed (my Grandparents and I) was to convene over a lunch of cake, ice cream and orange juice. When Grunkle complained about the lack of veggies, he was told sternly to "take what you've got and be grateful." Quite right.
As Granny says, Grunkle is completely bone from the neck up (not) and is "just arm candy and great for carrying things" (and gardening).
Speaking of not so stupid people, I've found it very amusing when people disagree or tell me to do things I don't want to, to pull out the old trick of "I don't speak any french... I'm just an American visitor." Grunkle tried this in the US when getting out of a parking ticket. Unfortunately the cop started speaking fluent french back to him. NICE TRY!
Grunkle is now complaining about how his weekly "soft porn" magazine of Madame Figaro (it's no more pornographic than most things in French advertising, which is to say VERY) is "going downhill. It's just a bunch of bloody children." He forgot to read the cover and see that it is the annual kid's issue.
Earlier today as I was about to leave for work at the Taste of Happiness, I left my elders admiring my collection of 70s male fashion post cards, a packet of "mail order hunks" with the most ridiculous and innuendo'd gentleman ever to deface a scrap of paper.
Work today was GREAT! I got to stick together macaroons, eat all the broken ones and was introduced to everyone as the "young American visiting us." Which led to questions of "do you know so-and-so?" Um, well the US does have quite of few people... Unfortunately I don't think we've met.
Fashion Statement of the day: Couple walked in wearing matching leather fedoras.
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