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Saturday, September 29, 2012

One-Month Maggie

I don’t like this one bit. Not being on top of my blogging is making my jam-packed head hurt to think about, dare I say it? LAST WEEKEND! I’m sure there are some of you who think, “How could one week as an exchange student possibly have more than ‘go to school, eat, and sleep’?” Essentially, you’re right; that’s the big picture. However, those of you who look like this:


yeahh.... I'm re-reading Harry Potter in French

Those of you who know that one week can capture snapshots of life-changing experiences, no matter how seemingly insignificant, give me knucks. Here are some of mine that I was able to get on camera:

I. Love. Snails.

Flipping my first crêpe - SUCCESS!!

These adorable chip things that are still happy even when you eat them. Thanks for making me feel a little better. Animal crackers, work on it. 

HA! So while Kiana, Connor, Calina, Eduardo, and Sid are all posting pictures of Asian food, this is my contribution. Feeling the culture and getting really jealous.

THE FREAKISH STORM! Hail, thunder, lightning right by my house - I was out on the veranda where it was at its worst. Bring. It. 
It was cold and windy at school during our ten minute break. We huddled up, I whipped out my camera, you know the rest.
My lovely friend Léa who is moving to another school. Of course I will be able to visit her, but she's definitely one of my best friends here.

Johanna, Nathalie, and I 


Pouille + my boots = uncomfortable yet determined kitty in my closet
I have to say that at school it's not like in other countries where if you want to take a picture you're already beat to it and there are multiples already on Facebook. I wish I could show you more of my class and friends because they are so nice!!! Eventually. 

                  Yesterday was my one month mark and even though I know it’s supposed be a freak-out moment, I’ve settled into my life here so much so that measuring my time here in months has little to no meaning for me other than to remind me that my days here are limited. I’m pretty sure that France and I were meant to be from the get-go because the only thing I don’t like here is the taste of marzipan. I even love how at school they habitually take little salt and pepper shakers from a rack to season their restaurant-style meals and replace them when they are done eating. They’re so sophisticated I’m surprised they don’t jam to Beethoven.

                  That being said, I think that it’s finally hit me that I will be a part of my new friends’ lives this year. Maybe my personal bubble has popped at last from all the bisous because suddenly I’ve found that I can no longer hide myself under a façade of lab coat and pen and paper in hand, only here to observe the culture. My name is no longer “Maggie, the exchange student from America” but just “Maggie.” To me that means that all the effort I’ve made to talk my head off, look stupid asking questions over and over, say “bring it on” to all the double-language-induced headaches, introduce myself to random people, and take everything in a positive light has recreated me as a person again. You know in Star Trek (I swear this isn’t going to be nerdy, I hardly know the premise…) when they can be transported from one place to another but their bodies separate into molecules and rejoin at the destination? It’s like little pieces of me are still being shipped over here after every conversation, every joke laughed at between my friends and I, and every new thing I try. It’s just weird to think that I’m the same person in essence whether I’m in Northfield or Puget; however how my friends here and back there arrived at their conclusion of who I am as a person has come to be in completely different ways (and languages).

                  Since that just took a lot of energy and a good twenty minutes to write (one thing you really don’t think about until you’re the one writing things for all your friends and family back home to read…) I’m going to make a crazy shift and update on what I did last weekend.

                  Here’s where you get to pick the super-duper fast version or the version where I talk about men who shop and sport purses because it’s part of the culture. Your choice.

                  Fast version: I went to Montpellier. Ditched school on Friday. Picked up my host sister, Lucie, in a town by Marseille. Stayed at my host sister, Mary’s apartment in Montpellier. Went shopping. Absolutely loved it, especially taking pictures. Skyped Diatou. Ate lunch in Aix-en-Provence. Went home exhausted and a little more fashionable.

                  Extended version (don’t tell the fast version people, but I love you more): While shopping at the Odysseum, which is like an outdoor MOA, I noticed that:
a) Any shop we stepped into I wanted to buy everything, but my host sisters and I agree that everything was made for uncommonly thin people.
b) There are people randomly making out everywhere. I was taking pictures of the mall and accidently took a picture of a couple embracing. Oh well, now you can laugh at how awkward it must have been when the lady looked at me like I was deliberately taking a picture of her and her chéri :

Kiko is the store with the nail polish bottle that broke, just so you know.

c) ATTENTION: here’s a quick style update that I find hilarious. Guys, your French counterparts are now wearing floral scarves and sporting murses aka man purses. Also, don’t be afraid to venture into the girls section; there were times when I couldn’t tell if I was just in a women’s clothing store, but I swear even guys can rock the collared sweater. As for hair, the Zac Efron gelled faux hawk is all the rage. Girls, don’t complain when your mothers accompany you on your way to Forever 21 because there’s no such thing as mom jeans. Plus, economically speaking you can steal their clothes J.
d) There is one clock in my high school, therefore everyone wears watches (or sneaks a peek on their cellphones while “searching for a pen”).
e) The ratio of male to female shoppers is pretty much equal.
f) Wearing obnoxiously colored clothes is, well, obnoxious. The French stick to their neutrals during the cooler months.

                  Just a side-note, there was a girl who dropped a bottle of nail polish in a cosmetics store and, now that I think about it, it just so happened to land on a guy’s leather shoes. He was pissed. She just stood there for a minute or two then finally helped one of the employees clean up the baby blue polish. Then another girl who was in a completely other world just clomped through the entire mess while the employee gave her a death glare. I came out alive after watching the comical scene of several people de-smurf their clothes and shoes.
                 
                  Overall it was a great weekend filled with a lot of time to hang out with my host sisters and be extremely girly – shopping, nail polish, and fashion shows made me happy J. There was a random runway in the center of the mall where all three levels looking down on the show were filled. I had to smile at the way France was fitting its fashionable stereotype.


Church in Montpellier


Host sisters, Mary and Lucie


The cute marzipan apple that I bought and thought tasted icky.

This was the fashion show that we saw in the mall. 

These boys were so cute!!!



                  Here’s a quick update about this weekend:

                  Yesterday I found out that one of the girls in my district decided to go home to Taiwan and left with her dad after visiting Monaco. It’s only been a month and I’m sad that she found rotary wasn’t the right thing for her at this time. All of us remaining exchange students (wow. I’m making it sound like this is the Hunger Games…) are getting together for the second time next Sunday to take a boat from Port Fréjus to St. Tropez so it’s too bad she couldn’t say goodbye.

                  I woke up this morning at 6:45am to rain but looked over at my bike shorts and shirt longingly and decided to tough it out on the first day of VTT (vélo tout terrain or biking on every terrain). Apparently I was a little too eager because the director walked from his house to the meeting spot and informed my host mom and I that due to the weather they would be meeting next week. Although, it was a good thing that we came because Simone could introduce me and we could find out if it’s the right level for me. We’ll start out with biking 15km (9.3mi) and work our way up to between 30km and 35km (18.6 – 21.7mi) and we will be going at an easy pace to start. I’m glad I found that I love to bike this summer and that I know I can get up to at least 30mi (48km) because I’ll get off to a good start (plus after not biking for a month it’s going to be difficult to start with unfamiliar equipment and jelly muscles!). The director also mentioned that we will be having a Halloween ride where we’ll dress up in costumes (how cool is that?! Especially since I’ll be missing the Halloween festivities this year) and we will take a night ride and use lights. I’m so pumped.

                  After finding that I am kind of in love with biking my host mom mentioned that she has a friend that she’ll ask to take me along with her to the Roc d’Azur races in Fréjus. It starts the second week of October and is the last of the big races and biking competitions in all of Europe. People come from all over the world just to compete in all sorts of biking events, not just distance rides. Okay. I think I need to stop squealing from excitement…




                  Today has been a fun day to hang out with my host mom and looking back, we did so much stuff! First we biked to the meeting spot for VTT, shopped for groceries, ate lunch in Fréjus, took a walk by the beach, and chilled during a freakish storm. At one point I showed her a blog written by an American who moved to the Provençal area of France (by us) and has now published a book on all her experiences. We scrolled through some of her posts until we came upon a picture of the lady’s beau-frère (literally “handsome brother” but it means her brother-in-law). The conversation about this guy was something as follows (imagine my computer on our kitchen table and us with our heads propped on up by our arms, but still standing):
“Hmmm, not bad! Wow.”
“Yeah, you’re right!”
Beau goss (meaning “good looking kid” but used to say “he’s attractive”) he’s a good-looking French guy…”
(Me laughing my butt off and close to tears)

It was seriously the best mini conversation ever and I can’t even begin to recreate it. So. Funny!

When we “did the rounds” I swear I met half the town. My host mom and host dad work in the hospital know a lot of people through work. Every time we go out to get something at the store we run into at least five people they know. All the better for me! Today I met two co-workers, a sister-in-law to my neighbor (sister?), previous co-worker and her daughter who live in a boat (so cool!!!!), someone at their equivalent of Menards, my host mom’s friend whom she works out with, the grocer (it was the cutest version of a co-op and I am SO TOTALLY taking pictures next time. Even the eggplants were adorable.), another previous co-worker, and I think that’s it for today. I honestly can’t remember.

                  I just want to briefly talk about the grocery store because I’m planning on staying there overnight just so I can check it all out after hours. Especially the fish. I mean, seriously, they had this whole ticket system where you waited for your number and it was intense. The French are pretty used to waiting, but I occupied myself with checking out all the eyes staring back at me. There were red fish, huge fish, enormous salmon, shrimp, brown crabs, squid (which someone bought and it was over $50 worth… “Dinner’s ready!?” I honestly don’t know what you do with squid other than fry it, but not with $50 worth…), clams, mussels, oysters, scallops, baby octopus, and sardines. I was absolutely fascinated and wanted to touch everything (Kiana… you with your whale bacon, me with my squid, clams, and shrimp, we’d have a search party for finding Nemo all over again)

                  So you know when you can get a taste test of maybe meat or cheese at a grocery store? Here I witnessed a lady ask to sample a raw oyster. I kid you not. The grocer, in her heavy-duty wetsuit uniform (for when they use a giant sprayer to clean the produce and suddenly it becomes Wisconsin Dells), took a knife, hacked away at the shell, poured the salt water all over the shrimp, handed the lady the oyster who then downed it. I just couldn’t help but wonder what would happen if I just took my oyster and ran, maybe got a bite of bread, and a few grapes? (Wheels turning)

                  Like I said to my mom and dad tonight while skyping, don’t worry about me, I have a lot of friends, it’s hard not to smile here, and I’m healthy (everyone else is sick with a cold here which I have not caught yet – knock on wood, no really, please do – it’s a mystery to me as to why it spread so quickly. It wouldn’t have to do with the fact that everyone touches everyone else’s faces every day, now would it?) In short, I am doing well.

Bisous,
Maggie

P.S. My photo link isn't working because I'm not technologically savvy so here's the link: http://cestlavieaccordingtomephotos.shutterfly.com





Sunday, September 23, 2012

Beauty and the Best


I am full of things to talk about today so either a) be prepared to have story-time with Maggie the extended version, or b) have a can’t-sit-still-I’m-going-to-scream-with-anticipation-because-there’s-a-SECOND-blog-coming moment. But I will let it remain a mystery for the both of us.

At this point in time I am settling in contentedly to the Côte d’Azur way of life. It’s easy, inexplicably beautiful, so much so that even when I have my camera 24/7 that it has become another appendage I can’t capture the ambiance, and above all, I have a wonderful host family. Each weekend I have had the great fortune to not only have time to travel around my district but also time to relax. My host mom and dad, whether they know it or not, have put together the perfect atmosphere for me to keep my cool, not get overly homesick, and enjoy the French culture.

The other American in Puget named Emily, and I got to go on a bus by ourselves to go to St. Raphäel last Saturday. It was stressful to figure out when, where, how, etc., but we were scooted onto the bus and off we went. We made a day of it, shopping around, mostly at the pastry shops, and had lunch. I had a great time with Emily especially getting to know her and speaking English together. We ate at a nice restaurant, had gelato, and bought little cakes as we strolled about every which way in St. Raph.

My first of two lunches of oysters in two days. Yummy!

My day just got better after returning home. I was invited to a birthday party/celebration with my host parents and their friends. There were about twenty adults (plus me) and the people I was fortunate enough to meet were so nice. I met a retired English teacher and her husband who have invited me over to their house in a few weeks and she translated jokes and a slideshow for me. She was so helpful and a sweetheart. The atmosphere of the party was not like you all probably think – it wasn’t all sophisticated and tight-collared; in fact, it was whimsical, playful, and downright hilarious. They all know each other well and had a great time making jokes and poking fun. Everything from the slideshow to the dinner to the gift wasn’t rushed and was therefore a perfect, relaxed party.

On Sunday the three of us left in the morning to visit Papi (grandpa), Simone’s dad and my French host grandpa. On our way to the mountainous village of Bargemon (I am not 100% sure but I will stick with that for now), we stopped at a boulangerie and patisserie where Simone bought some baguettes and a tarte aux fraises (strawberry cake) to bring to Papi’s. I’ve come to realize that I shouldn’t be surprised when Simone runs into people she knows like she did in the boulangerie and patisserie because she explained that the area that we live in is small. After stopping to buy steaks and potatoes we were off on our winding path in the mountains. I could have cried. Don’t tell my parents, but at some point in my life I will live there among the fresh air, winding roads, and houses tucked so carefully in the mountainside. There’s a part of me that feels like that’s where I’m meant to be.

Talking with Papi about everything from A to Z, asking questions about France on the map he gave me (which is soon to be on my bedroom wall so I can map out my adventures), and trying raw oysters made for a few hours during lunch. Yes I mean the ones that you tilt back your head and swallow – I was pumped to try them. We poured out most of the salt water and replaced it with lemon juice for a little bite and you rest the shell on your lips and basically pray that it’s dead. Joking! My host dad poked fun at my and said that in later it would wriggle in my stomach but I reassured him that the first one I ate was definitely dead because I bit down a few times J. I like oysters!!!! Not only are they yummy but fun to eat.

The beauty of the French way of eating is that they are tethered to the seasons. If a fruit is not in season, like strawberries were last week, they won't eat them. That is the secret of French cuisine - that and they stay away from sugar and processed food.

We left Papi’s early afternoon and I happily carried three gifts from Papi including a map of France, a napkin with a French recipe, and Lindt chocolate, as well as three bisous from Papi on my cheeks…





Our next destination was a mountain in the middle of a military base. We climbed to the top to find the view breathtaking. 4D photos need to be invented because the sunlight, breeze, the movement of the clouds and their shadows tagging behind across the forests was gorgeous.  On our way down the mountain we heard a rumbling around the corner that we found to be an army tank! It was bizarre, so of course I laughed and took a picture.  Mom, I found our convoy again.


I was delighted and surprised to find that my host parents were going to bring me to a little village with a castle after our hike. The village is called Bargème and is the highest village in the Var department (it’s a “county” of sorts). There aren’t many castles close by, this being an exception, and it didn’t disappoint even though it was devastated by the War of Religions in the second half of the XV century. My camera was my constant companion as I tried to capture my feelings of complete tranquility and sheer joy that I was in the village of my dreams. I pretended I was Belle from Beauty and the Beast the entire time, just in case you were wondering. There was even a sign for “Gaston’s House” and I had to laugh at how much I was freaking out inside. I kept saying <<c’est la dernière photo>> “this is the last photo” but when I was finally ready to leave I was more than content.

Gaston's house which turned out to be a beautiful art gallery. Fine by me!


The house on the left is for sale - my host parents and I decided that when I am done with my exchange year that I will live there (shhhh! don't tell my parents!)

The castle!!!


Even though I was really car sick after our long winding way back home, I got to talk to my mom and sister on Skype for the second time and felt much better. I am so lucky to have a supportive, if yet elusive, family. They have helped me to be an outlet to speak English (I am slowly forgetting random words and spellings like “surfer” in English) and check in, but we haven’t been talking constantly which has helped me to have minimal homesickness. However, that’s not to say that last week wasn’t hard. I woke up several times with tears in my eyes just from dreaming about my home in the USA and all the friends and family that have supported me for all these years. One particularly difficult morning I awoke after thinking I got to hug my friend, Kiana, only to find myself six thousand miles away from her. It was a dream inside a dream because I went and told my parents I missed Kiana to which they replied, “Well, what about us? Don’t you miss us, too?” I was confused because to me, they were standing right there and I said, “Well, yeah, but only a little.” When I finally woke up in Puget I realized I had neither Kiana nor my parents and sister. Luckily my host dad and I ate breakfast together and I now have many friends to talk to at school so I wasn’t sad for long. Just to clarify, I completely love it here, but I’ve come to embrace missing my familiar life back home in Northfield as part of the “growth” piece of Rotary Youth Exchange. Little by little, petit à petit, I am realizing that I actually get to live here in this amazing place and even more than that, that I AM living here right now!

I will update a little on school: I now start school at 9am compared to 8am on Thursdays, and do NOT have a class called TPE which prepares students to take the BAC (baccalaureate) and lasts for two hours on Tuesdays. Last Thursday I had step in gym again where we sounded like an army stomping to the tune of “Starships” by Nicki Minaj - oddly fun.

This will either be extremely amusing or shameful to you as an English speaker. In my English class I had a vocabulary test on how to describe a photo (i.e. in the upper right-hand corner etc.). Guess who got the WORST SCORE IN THE CLASS?! This guy! Haha! Here’s my cover story – WE DON’T ALWAYS USE PREPOSITIONS! So when she said to translate the French of “In the bottom left-hand corner” I said “bottom left corner” and so on. I received a 4/9 and the next lowest score was a 6. Awwww yeah. In a way I’m glad that happened so that my friends could see that I can laugh at myself and I’m not going to be a robot in school, even in the subject I should be acing. Moral of the story, if you look stupid learning a new language and laugh it off, you make friends. Great moral, right?

My English class is also learning about super heroes like Iron Man, Batman, Spiderman (speederman as they say), the Hulk, and Thor, and how to describe characters. We watched the trailer for The Avengers and filled in the blanks of the commentary on a sheet of paper. One of the blanks was a swear word and I seriously couldn’t contain myself. My partner, Léa, was like “What’s wrong with you?” and through tears I explained that the professor was teaching us a <<gros mot>> and that it was difficult to explain how this could be funny to anyone but me. Good times.

Icing on the cake aka Madge Update:

After my “homesick day” I got to go on a walk with my host dad for an hour. It cleared my head and I got to see more of the beautiful outskirts of Puget. On our way back I saw Madge barreling down the road from a ways away on account of her Tweety Bird stuffed animal pinned to the windshield. When she passed us a second time after her route she totally did a double take and recognized me! Madge, you have no idea how cool you are.

Seeing as I have taken up a good chunk of your time that you could have otherwise spent doing homework, housework, work, and everything in between, I will bid you goodnight from Puget-sur-Argens, France. My next blog post will be about my weekend in Montpellier with my host complete host family – including the lovely Diatou currently residing in Northfield and who is, as I am typing, going on a kayak (or canoe) ride with my family. That makes me so happy to say that!!!

Bisous and hugs (they don’t hug here so cyber-hugs are much appreciated),
Maggie




Friday, September 14, 2012

Swaggy Maggie


Listen! I will be honest with you,
I do not offer the old smooth prizes, but offer rough new prizes,
These are the days that must happen to you:
You shall not heap up what is call’d riches,
You shall scatter with lavish hand all that you earn or achieve,
You but arrive at the city to which you were destin’d, you hardly
                  Settle yourself to satisfaction before you are call’d by an
                  Irresistible call to depart

                                                                        - Walt Whitman, Leaves of Grass

It’s strange to think that if this year is measured in length by a line that there is a definite starting point and a time to depart, but there’s also the stuff in between; the Oreo filling, if you will. I have the choice to scrape it all off with my teeth from the get-go, take it in all at once and want more before it’s digested, or double-stuff it and let it soak in a glass of milk. Sit yourself down in a nice comfy chair with a cup of tea, better yet, some Oreos, and let me share with you some more adventures…

My host family is fantastic. After a long day at school trying to make friends and have enough energy to last through history, econ, French, etc., it’s been great to come home to my host dad’s greeting of, “Margaret!” or going to the beach with my host mom. That’s not to say that I’m getting the laundry right or wearing the right shoes, but I’m working on it! I had no idea that I’d be this tired all the time, but from my current standpoint, it takes a lot of concentration to understand what the teacher or students are saying via making sentences in my head, making sense of them grammatically, then translating them into English. It’s pretty crazy.

Another great thing about my host family is that they are great cooks – I’ve never had just an “okay” meal. They’ve all been delicious and different! Besides liking everything, some of my favorite I-could-have-this-every-day foods are guava juice, goat cheese, tartes (cucumber, tomato, you name it), some kind of fish, fois gras, baguettes, brioche, yogurt, etc.

On Wednesday my host dad took me to the Fréjus port and St. Raphäel, two villages close to Puget. I was exhausted but of course it was worth it to explore more of the surrounding area and I asked my host dad enough questions to make a book. One of my favorite parts was visiting the St. Raphäel church; not only is it gorgeous, but there’s an incredible feeling of life there. As we were walking around we heard prayers being whispered, saw candles being lit, and light shining through the stained-glass windows. It was breathtaking (I also didn’t have the brainpower to ask questions) and I think I found a new place to clear my head if I ever need it.






People here are shocked to know that I’m over eighteen years old, even my host parents. I kind of have a baby face and I’m hoping it’s not a question of maturity, but I didn’t think people would just assume that I’m sixteen! Luckily I wasn’t telling everyone when I came so it’s just coming up every once in a while. However, my age doesn’t seem to make that much of a difference when it comes to friends.


I am pretty proud of myself for making the variety of friends that I have so far. There are times when I’m wandering for a minute or two, but I always find someone to talk to, even if it’s just by introducing myself to someone random. But hey, I’m going to play the “exchange student card” as long as I can. My new nickname is “Swaggy Maggie” hence the title, and this came from a few friends that I made this week. With these new friends I also filmed them saying “purple squirrels” which hasn’t uploaded successfully on my blog, but it’s on Facebook so check it out if you have the chance. French speakers have a difficult time saying “r” so it was extremely cute and I had fun laughing fully for a change.

I’ve had many chances to be goofy or share some laughs with friends like playing paper football with an empty ink cartridge with Sarah, sharing tongue twisters, talking to Emily, the other American exchange student, and having small conversations in English.
Playing paper football with Sarah and the ink cartridge...

My school, entrance and administration

I take all of my classes in this building

The hang-out area, lockers

I taught some friends how to play "cellphone"

Speaking of ink cartridges, THEY HAVE BEAUTIFUL NOTES. Everything (besides math apparently) is written in pen. Everything. And not just one color, it’s perfectly neat cursive in blue, black, red, and green ink, underlined with a ruler if need-be. They tear their papers with a ruler and glue them in their notes. I still don’t understand when to write in my notebook and when to write on loose-leaf… This is all due to the BAC, or the Baccalaureate, which is their ACT or SAT. However, school is oriented completely around the BAC, even gym, because you have to take several BAC tests for each subject. They work so hard here and the teachers work them hard in turn. You have to stand before sitting down in your seat until the teacher says to be seated. You can’t enter the classroom until told to do so. The teachers move classrooms so there’s no homework help before or after school, no fun posters to be distracted with, unfortunately.

I love beautiful notes and I'm particularly proud of this one - fun colors!

 
My homework. I didn't understand the directions completely so I drew...

In terms of the schedules, it’s ridiculous. There are times when I have Econ for two hours then history for two hours, an hour of math then an hour of French (and repeat)… There’s week A and week B, and times where I have to wait two to two and a half hours until I have my next class. During this time I usually hang out with friends and we talk, take pictures, listen to music, whatever.

It’s true what the stereotypical French image is: people dress nicely here. I’ve seen high heels, lots of American flags, dresses, sweater vests, and popped collars. Most of the girls paint their nails every day to match their outfit, and always look adorable, while the majority of guys gel their hair. Another thing that makes Americans significantly different from the French is that they smoke. A lot. Personally that won’t be a choice I will make, but it’s part of the culture here. Students and teachers alike wait by the gate to have a smoking break since it’s not allowed inside school grounds. On the second or third day it was shocking to see how many people smoked and I couldn’t help but think how young they must have been when they started smoking. Today I was able to talk to my class about the image of smoking in the United States. I said that it’s frowned upon more so than in France and that because of our law that eighteen year olds and older can buy cigarettes, it’s not something that people do at school.

I was relieved to go to gym class and have my gym teacher give the class a lecture (friendly, though, he’s a great teacher!) about smoking and that it will make exercise more difficult. On Thursday I had “step” which was actually pretty fun! I am not the most coordinated person but I eventually caught on, especially when he had music to go along with the moves. The first song he played was “Call Me Maybe” haha! After a good hour or so, we were all drenched in sweat, or as the French call it, << j’ai transpiré >>. I honestly don’t understand why they would have a word that resembles “transparent” when you could clearly see I had just had gym class. When class was finished, I was off to the bus…

And here comes the part you’ve all been waiting for: the Madge Update.

A few days ago there was this boy who was being pretty loud when he was playing a game on his phone. At this point, Madge is booking it to school but she’s on the highway and can’t do much about it. I thought she’d just yell at him from the front of the bus, but no! She parks the bus on the side of the highway and shuffles down the aisle to the boy who is still laughing hysterically. Madge tells him to keep it down or else and starts the bus back up again… he was silent the entire way to school. One point for Madge, zero for the general public.
Today Madge was turning on a particularly small road and she usually has to wait, but this time someone had parked their car in the street. What does Madge do, but wail on the horn. With the gum-smacking, sunglasses, and easy attitude, it was a sight to see. It was especially funny because Madge has this radio station that she likes and it’s mostly techno, rap, and L’il Wayne. When she likes the song that’s playing she grooves; like head movement, lip-syncing, and sometimes hand actions. I’ve decided to make a Madge playlist so that you too can jam like Madge. Anyways, this particular day, before being stopped by a parked car, Madge was jammin’. But once the car was in her way she was back to business. I’m just glad that she had her usual parting words; it made me feel confident that the old Madge was back. This time it was <<bon weekend>>. I seriously love my bus driver.

This is what I received while going for a walk in my neighborhood. I passed by a house with beautiful grape vines and olive trees and said "bonjour" to the elderly gentleman sitting in his yard. After complimenting him on the beautiful grapes, he came over and gave me this bunch - they. were. delicious. We talked for a while about my exchange, how his wife is an English teacher, and old proverbs, he wished me well, gave me two kisses on the cheek and told me to come visit again! I am definitely going to trust my gut instinct to put myself out there to meet new people.



I will say à bientôt “soon” with this parting photo, I hope it will make you laugh like my host dad and I did:

Sorry I forgot to put this on right away - THERE'S SO MUCH IN MY HEAD!  Anyone else think this should be "Basic Instinct"? Maybe that's the reason they're having a sale...


P.S. Don't forget to check out more pictures. I created a shutterfly account where I've uploaded some pictures to share. The link is on the top left-hand side of the blog!

Bisous,
Maggie