Je suis desole mais je ne parle pas francais...

I’ve been in Paris almost a week now. Just to catch up on what I’ve been up to:

John and I celebrated his birthday in Disneyland Paris, which was great. We did everything we wanted to with the exception of one ride. Monday was a holiday so we spent the day reading in a park, which was relaxing until it began to rain. Not to worry, we had an umbrella and waited out the quick storm while others ran to seek coverage under trees and the bridge. I have even started my French classes.

Yesterday was my first class. I went in with no expectations but am very happy with the school. I spend about 70% of the time confused, which can only mean that I must understand 30% of what’s going on. That’s not too bad if you think about it. Since the first class one student dropped because of the immersion teaching style. That leaves four of us. We’re beginning to have fun with the class; helping each other out and laughing at everyone’s frustration and mistakes. The teacher speaks to us only in French until we have a break. So by the time I get home I’m very happy to be allowed to speak in English with John (though he's helping me as well). In the weeks to come, I’m sure, I’ll begin to be less confused but for now I’m okay with the fact that I struggle.

For someone who doesn’t speak any French I’ve tried to challenge myself a little to be independent. Yesterday I went to the grocery store to find cleaning solution. I take for granted being able to walk down the isle, read a few bottles, pick the cheapest item and go. Here I prayed that the back of the bottles had the pictures of what it does. I’ve never understood the purpose of those pictures until now… and let me tell you: they don’t help. If bottles even had pictures on them, I couldn’t tell what surface they were supposed to represent. Though I may not have gotten exactly what I wanted for the cheapest price I was able to accomplish my goal.  Today, I got myself home from class. John has been very sweet. He’s woken up at 6:45am to help me figure out the route to class and yesterday he picked me up so I could learn the way home. It felt good to get home on my own (though I had a very good teacher show me the way).

Since John is taking driving lessons we have some time apart. Staying with him, I feel as though I am a guest in his home so when the doorbell rang today, I had a moment where I questioned answering. This is not my house, I don’t know anyone nor was I expected someone and I don’t speak French. How would I answer the door? I think it’s safe to say that staring at a visitor is never polite no matter where you are. I opened the door to work men speaking to me, very quickly, in French. At last! I could use some of the 70% of class I understood. “Je suis desole mais je ne parle pas francais,” I said hesitantly. The good news was he understood me. The bad news was he still wanted something. After a conversation in broken French, English and charades I figured out that he needed an electrical plug in order to finish some work but the first one we found didn’t work so we needed to find a second. To make the situation better, Oscar (John’s cat) began to scream at the workman as I searched for a plug. I would say meow but anyone who knows Oscar knows that he does no such thing when he’s upset; he meows far louder than I speak. Once the man left, I sat down on the couch with Oscar next to me. It was then I realized that I’m slowly winning him over. Once he stopped screaming, he kissed my nose as we waited for John to come home.

Life is just how I like it… full of adventures!

Lizzie 

Also: I’m updating pictures on my flickr account. The link in posted at the bottom of the blog (http://www.flickr.com/photos/38924404@N04/sets/)