Enchantée

Charmed. That’s what my host mother said when she introduced herself yesterday. She lives in a spacious apartment on the Right Bank, not too far from the Eiffel Tower, which we can see from our living room window. The place is old, but clean and well-kept, with wooden floors that creak if you walk on the wrong side of the hallway. The wallpaper is yellowed and peeling in places, the white paint on parts of the wooden trim along the floors chipped. Worn books about religion and travel and philosophy line the shelves in the living room from floor to ceiling, and freshly painted watercolor flowers and portraits are drying up against the wall, a burst of something new in an otherwise comfy old house. (My host mother had her weekly drawing class this afternoon. She is quite the artist.) An old tapestry takes up the entire wall opposite the dining room table, adding some color to the place. Various little trinkets—perhaps gifts from past students like me—fill empty places on the shelves that were too narrow to fit another book, but too wide to just leave empty. My St. Louis Cardinals calendar has been added to the ranks of student gifts, and now adorns the shelf next to the computer (we have wi-fi! pronounced "le wee-fee"). It doesn’t exactly fit with the rest of the Parisien décor, but hey, now I’ve planted a little bit of myself here, at least for the 2009 calendar year. Love them Cards.

Character. That’s what you’d say about a place like this. It’s got character. Things are small here, but not too small. According to my friend Henry, I’m “living big” in what is supposedly the rich arrondisement. I have a room to myself, and a bathroom (with shower and toilet in the same room!) that I share with another BU student, who took the room next door to mine. It’s a good size spread. Not a sprawling layout, but not the European closet I thought it would be. Previous students were gracious enough to leave their old books and French dictionaries here, which will be a great help once classes start.

It’s weird, making a temporary home in a place with so much history. Twenty-four other students have passed through here over the years on their study abroad trips. The cynical part of me thinks my roommate and I are just numbers added to the list of eager Americans looking for a romantic Parisien adventure. But the optimistic part of me tells me to take a deep breath, and strike up a conversation about nothing in particular with my host mother, both to learn more about her life, and to improve my French.

She has been incredibly gracious so far. Yesterday, she gave us a tour of our arrondisement, and then prepared a dinner of chicken, rice, broccoli, bread, and wine. Tomorrow we will eat dinner with her nephew. He’s a film major, so he and I should get along well. My French is already improving, so I think I might actually be able to carry on a conversation with him.

Speaking of conversations, I enjoyed another victory today: I purchased a phone….in FRENCH….all by myself! I walked into the store, explained what I wanted, and voilà! Un mobile! I was so proud of myself. The man at the counter said I speak very good French. He was also kind of flirting, I think, but whatever. J’ai un mobile, et je peux parler français. Ça, c’est bon!