I kind of think I may have made a mistake picking a homestay over an apartment. But really no. It just may not have been a smart choice, that’s what I’m saying. I wasn’t brave when I decided I wanted to live with a family, it’s more like I was just stupid. My French (or ma confiance) is nowhere near strong enough to carry a conversation, let alone give me the guts to walk out of my room and start talking to the five kids in the living room. I know it will get better, and I’ve hardly been in this apartment for more than an hour, but still. Most likely those of you who knew me taking French know that I’m really self-conscious when it comes to speaking French, and it takes me so much effort to ask a simple question, or even answer a simple one, which is much easier. I’ve probably said “merci” and “bonjour” a thousand times since I’ve been here because those are the only parts of conversations I’m good at.
And I have the ability to carry on a conversation, I’m sure I do, but it takes so much effort and confidence for me to try. For example, when I had to ask the front desk at the FIAP to call me a taxi (because for some reason I’m much more freaked out about calling a taxi in French than I did in Italian…I didn’t care about Italian whatsoever so I didn’t care if I made a fool of myself…weird.), I first asked a friend how to say it to make sure, then I wrote it down, said it over a few times, and then finally asked the woman the simple question: Pouvez-vous téléphoner un taxi pour moi, s’il vous plaît? So I’m literally taking baby steps with my French. Hopefully by starting the preliminary class on Monday I’ll get more used to speaking. And it’s not that I don’t try, because I really don’t think I could try harder (except by actually talking). Wordreference.com these past couple of days has been my homepage. My dad said you know you’ve got it down with a language when you start thinking in it instead of in English. Does it count if I’m constantly carrying a French conversation with myself in my head? That may sound really creepy/weird/psychotic, but I’m so obsessed with getting better and for some reason proving to everyone that I really have taken 4 semesters of French, that I am constantly thinking of phrases I can say.
Sorry I’m making this post so long by going on and on about speaking/learning French, but this has been on my mind much more than my homestay for some reason, even though you are probably wondering about that more than my crazy antics and insecurities. But whatever, I just wanted to say that I was thinking about learning French in New York while taking the taxi over here, and I’ve come to the conclusion that learning a different language in the states is complete crap. I’m not saying I haven’t absolutely loved my French classes and learned a hell of a lot, but it’s just that everything that is actually relevant in the language is so boring and seems completely irrelevant in the classroom. For example: there is no way that I care about how to write a letter in French or speak on the phone in French or how to tell someone to use the tu form for you instead of the vous when I’m in New York. And even if it seemed kind of interesting in the classroom, there was no way we ever had to apply it. And who the hell do I tu and who the hell do I vous? Do I vous my 18-year-old homestay “brother?” Do I vous the six-year-old in the next room? But yeah, so that’s my ranting about French. Sorry. Here’s a quick note on my homestay: as soon as I walked in with my 3230980 bags, there were like five children hanging out (ages baby to teenager)…one of which is her really cute grandson, and if we ever get past the whole awkward-homestay-almost-brother-but-only-saying-bonjour-and-ca-va?-to-each-other-relationship and become friends on Facebook, I’m going to have to remember to take this post down.
You all know how much I love kids, but there are two problems here in France: 1, I feel creepy saying “J’adore les enfants” (just imagine an older French man saying that with a French accent, emphasis (as always) on the “j’adore”) , and 2, I don’t know enough to be able to go over to them and hang out. The little ones are playing Super Mario right now, and I’m too shy to go over and ask to play with them…they're all her grandchildren I presume. My floor-length window (that opens up to this mini-faux-balcony) looks out into the backyard and the girls are running around screaming/singing really weird pop songs in English that I’ve never heard before. Zöe (sp? pronounced Zooeh, or Zooé) is six (picture a younger Kit Kittredge from American Girl and you’ve got her) and loves speaking English to me, and she says “hello” and “see you soon” the cutest out of any child I’ve seen…sorry American children, these French ones speak cuter English. Because all these kids have been here both times I’ve come, I’m assuming that they come over every weekday? It’s nice to have a noisy house, I’ll definitely take feeling uncomfortable and antisocial than being alone in my apartment.
So I’m all moved in, and the other NYU student who’s living here, Julia, is moving in shortly. Our homestay lady (what do I call her? Madame Raynaud? That’s kind of awkwardly formal…and how long do I vous her??) is going to cook us dinner tonight, even though she’s going out to dinner later on. She’s cute. And so I’ll take some pictures of the place later on, when no one is here, so I don’t look like the American creeper. Once again sorry for the long post!
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