Jet lag was not particularly significant; I didn't come near falling asleep on my feet at any point. Given that, I think I've over adjusted, because my internal alarm wakes me up at 7 am. Well, when my host family doesn't.
My host family is wonderful. When I first arrived on Tuesday, I was greeted first by their dog, Ermine, who is a very friendly little critter [on a related note, the first morning, I discovered that I had unsuccessfully closed my bedroom door, and Ermine was very keen to make sure I was only sleeping, not dead (my bedroom came very well decorated, complete with framed posters of The Beatles, Led Zeppelin, and The Simpsons)]. After Ermine, my host mom came out and met me, followed by Charles and Eve, her 12-year-old son and 10-year-old daughter. Charles speaks a mile a minute, so I frankly I don't really know him. I picked up "Je fais du sport" (I play sports), but that was the extent of it. I learned later from my host mom that he had been going biking. While she took him to biking, I was left with Eve to speak French. I'm not particularly good at having a conversation with someone half my age in English; French was challenging to say the least. It didn't help that she speaks nearly no English yet, but I'm not complaining. It's a good experience. Later in the day, I met my host dad, who's just as friendly as everyone else here, and Manon, my other host sister. She's in her first year of college in Paris, and will be returning there today. Oh yeah. Charles plays Call of Duty. I think that's been the hardest blow of culture shock.
 | |
| Church near the school. Parts of it date back as far as the eleventh century, and there's remnants of Roman-era road inside. |
Yeah. That's right. I've experienced virtually no culture shock. I don't want to speak too soon, but I haven't found the move a quarter way around the world to be all that intimidating. Sure, there are some differences: the frugality regarding electricity and water (though I still can't reconcile that with there being champagne that costs much less by volume than water), the distance maintained by strangers (it is very odd to smile at people on the street, though I have found that if you step out of someone's way so they can pass you on a narrow street, they absolutely brim with joy - as in they smile. Also, the Aixois love exact change. Give a waitress exact change, and she'll forgive you for being American. Don't tip either, unless service is particularly good, because it's included in wages here...okay long aside over, where was I?), and the pervading language of, gasp, French. No, I have not mastered French yet. There is no chance of me placing into the top level of French here.
 |
| Fountain in a square. Italian-inspired design. Apparently some resident of Aix was not impressed with his backyard view, so he bought the land across the street, tore down the houses, and had this constructed. |
Classes still haven't started, and they don't until Wednesday. Which is a good thing, because I don't find out my class schedule until Tuesday. It's not like that's a short turn around or anything, but nowhere near as long as my walk to class [20 minutes, 1.6 km (1 mile), which wouldn't be such a big deal, except I expected it to be a good bit warmer here than it is. The average highs are in the low to mid fifties, but it's been low forties or lower since I've got here (from now on temperatures will be in Celsius). Hopefully it will warm up soon, January's the coldest month in Aix, and the snow I saw a few days ago is extremely rare].
In order to maintain the superior quality of my blog, I will stop here - don't want to overwork my mind. Tune in next time for discourse on courses, food and academic.
No comments:
Post a Comment