Ladies and Gentlemen, I have witnessed weather history. Yes, it’s true, I have witnessed one of France’s rare snow-days and lived to tell the tale.
About two weeks ago it started to get colder and colder dropping from the regular 5-6 degrees C to a freezing -15. And then the snow came. It flurried here and there, the wind so raw it burned one’s skin when walking outside and the air so cold it made the eyes water. Overnight, everything was covered in a beautiful white powder that I had so long been waiting for and missed so dearly. To me, an upstate New Yorker used to trick or treating in wintery conditions, January flurries was nothing out of the ordinary. To France however, it made national news.
Schools were shut down (some even for a week), the city bus stopped running and cars didn’t dare venture out on the road. The internet didn’t work and stores closed early. There were many snow fights accompanied by just as many falls and injuries…it was truly a spectacle to see. All anyone could talk about for days was the snow, people asking me bewildered if I had ever seen so much. On the outside, I continuously smiled and nodded explaining that we get quick a bit of snow “where I come from” and “yes, it’s very exciting”. But on the inside I’m still having trouble with how panicked/exuberated the French were by the mere 4 inches of snow. I mean it literally made the news. For a week. It’s all gone now and is back to being rather warm (in my opinion…around 30-40 degrees F a day).
Although it was especially pretty to see beautiful monuments, chateaus and cathedrals covered in snow. I can appreciate the awe, if only for the beauty that the frost lent to the buildings older than my native country.
In other, warmer news, I changed host families on the 4th of January and have settled in quickly and happily. The first few days were a little rough as my drama queen tendencies went berserk and I went on stress overload trying to adjust to new bus times, new eating times and new shower times. But I’m really quite content now and absolutely adore my new family. I have two host sister who are close to my age (Pauline who will be 17 next month and Emilie who is 15) and two host brothers (Arnaud who is my age and currently at university and Sylvain who is 12). We don’t go to the same schools, but Pauline has already introduced me to some of her friends and the two sisters, their friends and I get along well. I get along nicely with Sylvain as well…and will soon dominate him on Wii MarioKart.
My host parents, Odile and Phillipe, are very kind and work together. I’m not sure what they do exactly but it’s very important (they work in a big shiny building and everyone else in it works for them) and they often work late and lots. But just because they work a lot doesn’t mean they lead a hectic life style. On the contrary, Odile is always home to make lunch and dinner (and not little things either…we had steak for lunch today, STEAK) and they don’t seem as stressed as I imagine someone with a similar job in America would. It’s just the French way…relax and think about what matters first; food and family. And whoever said you should never trust a skinny cook has obviously never met Odile. The woman knows what’s she’s doing in the kitchen and is in perfect form.
That’s part of the reason I’m joining a local gym I found here. The other two reasons are that my limbs have finally grown ridiculously restless from lack of use and exercise (the last few months were a nice break from 15 years of ballet, but I’m done relaxing for now) and also that it’s next to the library where they have a shelf of English books. I took that as a sign of fate and decided to join up. The fact that the owner reduced the price for me because I’m American helped too.
I’ve officially reached my half way point and couldn’t be more confused about my feelings. As I start to count backwards the days till I come home I’m filled with both dread and apprehension. I’m excited to see my family and friends, visit sites I haven’t seen in a year, eat some glorious Otown pizza and the like, but there’s lots here I’m going to miss. I’ve passed the toughest part of the exchange and have really grown to adore my new country. Almost everything about it just fits me. I’ve grown as well. I’ve changed a little and begun to become my own person…I don’t know, it’s very difficult to explain. All I know is that I half wish June would never come and half think it can’t come fast enough. Mostly though I’m just trying to focus on the present and savor every second I have left (and every croissant I can get my hands on).
Congratulations on the new president!! I watched on BCC news and couldn’t have been more proud of my country.
That’s all for now from the French frontier. Hope all is well with everyone and we head quickly into the second month of 2009. Gros Bisous!!
About two weeks ago it started to get colder and colder dropping from the regular 5-6 degrees C to a freezing -15. And then the snow came. It flurried here and there, the wind so raw it burned one’s skin when walking outside and the air so cold it made the eyes water. Overnight, everything was covered in a beautiful white powder that I had so long been waiting for and missed so dearly. To me, an upstate New Yorker used to trick or treating in wintery conditions, January flurries was nothing out of the ordinary. To France however, it made national news.
Schools were shut down (some even for a week), the city bus stopped running and cars didn’t dare venture out on the road. The internet didn’t work and stores closed early. There were many snow fights accompanied by just as many falls and injuries…it was truly a spectacle to see. All anyone could talk about for days was the snow, people asking me bewildered if I had ever seen so much. On the outside, I continuously smiled and nodded explaining that we get quick a bit of snow “where I come from” and “yes, it’s very exciting”. But on the inside I’m still having trouble with how panicked/exuberated the French were by the mere 4 inches of snow. I mean it literally made the news. For a week. It’s all gone now and is back to being rather warm (in my opinion…around 30-40 degrees F a day).
Although it was especially pretty to see beautiful monuments, chateaus and cathedrals covered in snow. I can appreciate the awe, if only for the beauty that the frost lent to the buildings older than my native country.
In other, warmer news, I changed host families on the 4th of January and have settled in quickly and happily. The first few days were a little rough as my drama queen tendencies went berserk and I went on stress overload trying to adjust to new bus times, new eating times and new shower times. But I’m really quite content now and absolutely adore my new family. I have two host sister who are close to my age (Pauline who will be 17 next month and Emilie who is 15) and two host brothers (Arnaud who is my age and currently at university and Sylvain who is 12). We don’t go to the same schools, but Pauline has already introduced me to some of her friends and the two sisters, their friends and I get along well. I get along nicely with Sylvain as well…and will soon dominate him on Wii MarioKart.
My host parents, Odile and Phillipe, are very kind and work together. I’m not sure what they do exactly but it’s very important (they work in a big shiny building and everyone else in it works for them) and they often work late and lots. But just because they work a lot doesn’t mean they lead a hectic life style. On the contrary, Odile is always home to make lunch and dinner (and not little things either…we had steak for lunch today, STEAK) and they don’t seem as stressed as I imagine someone with a similar job in America would. It’s just the French way…relax and think about what matters first; food and family. And whoever said you should never trust a skinny cook has obviously never met Odile. The woman knows what’s she’s doing in the kitchen and is in perfect form.
That’s part of the reason I’m joining a local gym I found here. The other two reasons are that my limbs have finally grown ridiculously restless from lack of use and exercise (the last few months were a nice break from 15 years of ballet, but I’m done relaxing for now) and also that it’s next to the library where they have a shelf of English books. I took that as a sign of fate and decided to join up. The fact that the owner reduced the price for me because I’m American helped too.
I’ve officially reached my half way point and couldn’t be more confused about my feelings. As I start to count backwards the days till I come home I’m filled with both dread and apprehension. I’m excited to see my family and friends, visit sites I haven’t seen in a year, eat some glorious Otown pizza and the like, but there’s lots here I’m going to miss. I’ve passed the toughest part of the exchange and have really grown to adore my new country. Almost everything about it just fits me. I’ve grown as well. I’ve changed a little and begun to become my own person…I don’t know, it’s very difficult to explain. All I know is that I half wish June would never come and half think it can’t come fast enough. Mostly though I’m just trying to focus on the present and savor every second I have left (and every croissant I can get my hands on).
Congratulations on the new president!! I watched on BCC news and couldn’t have been more proud of my country.
That’s all for now from the French frontier. Hope all is well with everyone and we head quickly into the second month of 2009. Gros Bisous!!
