I'm tired, but good, and staying at the French language school in Massy, south of downtown Paris. The grass is green and a few flowers are sprouting up, along side others just planted. That makes it nice. It was in the upper 30s and 40s today, so not much different than home, but it must be a little milder for the grass to be so green.
I have a dorm room, with a toilette across the hall from me that consists of a toilet. Ha. I have a sink in my room, a twin bed, a desk, wi-fi - yay! and good storage. There is a shared kitchen down the hall, a TV room, an ironing room, laundry room. Reminds me of college but there is a daycare here. I've met 4 people in this dorm. One is from Switzerland - Francesca - my next door neighbor, Becky from Pennsylvania, another girl from London - Joss, and a guy from PA, another girl from China. This is a French school and also a Baptist church so they have church here on Sundays. They also have separate apartments for singles or families and the day care for the little ones is for those who have parents attending the school. Everyone is supposed to speak French in the public areas. I'm not hearing a lot of French. Ha. They are all new students. I have been trying to speak some French today. It's been fun.
My seat mate on the plane is trying to move to New York from France. Her boyfriend is already there and she is going to do an internship with a Pharmaceutical/marketing firm. Very cute and trying her English out. I thought she was doing a great job. Two beautiful young Morrocan women spoke to me and an elderly French woman as we waited for the plane to leave Philadelphia. The girls were trying to remember their French. They've lived in Ohio for 20 years and couldn't be more than 25. The elderly woman asked if anyone of us spoke French. She was trying to figure out what she was to show the airplane attendants. The girls still have family in Morroco and they were going to have a nice visit in Paris—then head south to Africa where their family live. Many of these Moroccan Muslim families have moved up to Paris. On the bus ride more than half on the bus in Massy were Muslim young men. I am more aware these days. One of them was reading some Arabic - maybe the Qaran, I can't say. Interesting times. Everyone is usually pretty quiet on the buses unless they are with a group of friends, but mostly very quiet. My beautiful black friend, Jean, who is 57 and so much like me - not in looks, obviously, but in spirit, picked me up at the airport. We may be too much for our field director at the same time. Ha.
We ended up getting a café (coffee) at the Sheritan Hotel above the train station just to use the toilet. Jean and I had never met in person and only talked via email. It was great to finally meet her. Like a pen pal. It was scarey how much we are alike when it comes to cutting up and the way we think—plus our Faith walk. spooky.
I can barely stay awake because I have only slept an hr. and a half the last 24 hrs. Trying to stay up longer.
Jean, who is considered a "Midtermer" with World Team (someone who works a few months at a time then comes back to the states to live), grabbed half my luggage, as we lugged it onto the train and buses. Then we walked another 1/2 mile to get our groceries. 300 kinds of cheese. I was in hog heaven.
I got my exercise in today. I knew this would happen. I probably won't be able to move tomorrow. But this is good. I need it. - Carol
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