Today was my first full day with my new hostmom – Marie France de Dainville. Try saying that three times fast! But I will just be calling her Madame. The other day I visited my friend from Mercer Island at her homestay in Paris and was quite angry with myself afterwards. Reason being, the apartment looks like a museum, and I thought, “If Reilly’s apartment is la creme de la creme, then what will be awaiting ME tomorrow?” I thought it couldn’t be anything like Reilly’s and for that reason, I almost wished I hadn’t had seen it before my own. The apartment I visited occupies almost an entire floor, the ceilings are 15 feet high, and the walls are all elaborate tapestries or famous paintings of the hostmom’s ancient family history (someone in her family way way wayyy back killed Napoleon in the war. Super casual.) But I enjoyed a nice tour of the place with the hostmom chattering away at us the whole time. I felt like I could almost get lost in the ancient, creaking hallways. I took pictures inside my friend’s room. You can see one of them below in another post I made.

I have recently thought to myself that you can’t judge a French book by it’s cover. I say this because as I walked to my hostmom’s apartment yesterday with my friend, I found the outside to be slightly unappealing, but on the inside, it was stunning. I have posted pictures on my Flikr of my own apartment that I will be living in. Also, the picture below of le Tour is actually from the window from Madame’s painting studio. I couldn’t have asked for a better place to live these next four months. To top it off, I landed myself with someone who likes to cook almost as I like to eat. Last night she made an avocado and shrimp salad appetizer (served in the empty avocado shell) then chicken breast cooked with tomatoes and herbs. And for dessert some fresh peach with mango sorbet. Tonight, the first plate was fresh tomatoes with herbs, a hard boiled egg with some mixture in the middle part, some jambon (ham), and shredded carrots. Then the main dish was a poached salmon that was stuffed with vegetables and a zucchini/carrot salad on the side. The French eat their cheese after dinner so I had some chevre with bread after that THEN I had the real dessert – chocolate mousse. I’m still digesting right now.

Our conversations have been easy and comfortable. Madame resembles quite the same character as my grandma, and for that reason, I already feel very settled and at home. She is a retired artist (a painter), but still works a little, restoring some old paintings that go in museums. I don’t exaggerate when I say her home feels a little like a wing of the Louvre. I can’t wait to hear more of the story of her life as these months continue, and definitely obtain some French recipes that I can then bring back home with me.

Tomorrow – first day of orientation! Weird, school. That thing I forgot about.

A lot of things are happening back at home right now. I’m sad that I’m not there to be of comfort to some of my friends during difficult times. Sending all my best wishes and biggest hugs all the way from Paris to those in need.

A tout.

Today was a dream. I’m in Paris! I started studying French almost 7 years ago now, and I forever had it in my mind that I would one day be living here – in this city, and the day has finally arrived. I probably annoyed my host by saying so many times how it was truly a dream come true for me. I still can’t believe it.

I probably walked more than half the city today. My legs and feet are killing me after 3 full days of walking. But I can’t complain! One can only eat so much cheese without making any physical movements…

Today was very long in fact. Imagine this scenario trying to board the train:  Sasha + 1 very large suitcase weighing over 50 lbs + 1 smaller suitcase weighing about 30 lbs + 1 full backpack + one purse = disaster. I had to take the train from Geneva to Paris this afternoon and luckily I was far enough outside of Paris where the commonfolk are kind enough to offer their assistance when they see someone in need. I was sweaty and disgusting when I sat down on the train finally, definitely not in the mood to make small talk with my seatmate. Apparently, I wasn’t the only struggling today, because my seatmate, a girl just about my age, had a bag that could definitely fit us both inside of it. We ended up talking the entire time and watched a movie on my computer and exchanged numbers before departing. +1 new French friend for Sash.

I have a few thoughts that I’ve concluded the past week or so: I think it’s cool how in France there doesn’t seem to be a mold that people my age usually find. For instance, one of Roxane’s friends from l’uni actually had a whole college experience in the US. He did all his studies in accounting and finance at Northeastern. Then he returned to Geneva after graduating, and is now studying to be a doctor. He’s 25. Then the girl I met on the train went abroad for 6 months a few years back and is now doing an internship in Paris. It just seems as if everyone moves at their own speed and there isn’t a stigma if you don’t do things they way they “are supposed to be done:” graduate high school, go to college, get an internship, graduate college, start a career. I just hate that people feel like that’s how it’s supposed to be. What if I want to have 3 different careers? Go to cooking school? Live in San Francisco, New York, and Paris? Have a family? It seems impossible in my mind, but for the French, anything is possible. C’est la vie! – as I have learned.

Lauren and I were watching Ratatouille the day before I left for France so I would get “in the zone” and the other day when I was walking around the big fair of Thonon with Claire, I kept saying, “tomme de chevre de paix!” like Remi does in the movie – for those of you who have seen it you may not even know what I’m talking about. But then it was funny, because all of a sudden we came upon a cheese vendor and there it was – the tomme de chevre! And it was oh so good. We ended up having a wine and cheese night for our last night which we spent in Geneva so I would be close to the train in the morning. It was a great last evening, very quiet, but SO much good local cheese we bought at the market. Happy girl over here.

Tomorrow I look for a French phone, hang out with a fellow Islander (!!), and then go to a little soiree with my French host, who just so happened to save my life today by picking me up at the train station and hosting me for the weekend.

A photo to leave you with, feel free to be jealous:

Gros bisous.