Good Morning!
I'm writing you all from my villa in Melun, France. It feels like 6:30 am, but here it's 11:30am. I left yesterday at 9am, so it's been about 21 hours of traveling. Saying that I'm groggy is an understatement, and I'm trying to decide whether I should tough it out for the day, or give in to taking a nap. The flight was uneventful. I was able to tell the Air France flight attendant that I wanted champagne with my crackers and later that I wanted "poulet" for dinner and accompanied by a glass of "vin branc" (that's chicken and white wine if you didn't know). I felt so multilingual. I made friends with the Brazilian guy that was sitting next to me. We were speaking Portuguese for a couple hours. I didn't sleep a ton, but I did read half of the novel, The Kite Runner.
Once again, I arrived in a country where I don't know that language. I actually know more French than I new Portuguese when I arrived in Brazil, but it's definitely not much. That quarter of French in seventh grade really isn't helping me out too much. It's funny though, I keep catching myself thinking in Portuguese and wanting to speak it. It's the #1 foreign language in my head, so hearing French makes my brain switch to foreign language mode, but instead of French, my neurons go fetch Portuguese phrases. There is one Brazilian guy who will be in my class. He knows one of my friends in Macaé from college and works in Angola. I plan on keeping my Portuguese polished by having private (but public) conversations.
Most of my first impression of France was the back of my eyelids. I passed out in the taxi on the way to the hotel. The driver got kinda lost, and I ended up paying twenty euros more than i was expecting. Oh well.. it will get expensed anyway. I realized that I missed expressways. Brazil doesn't have those wide, smooth, unimpeded roads. It was nice to be in a fast car and not worry about the driver not seeing a massive pothole or unmarked speed bump. The terrain is about as exotic as mid-Ohio- spring greenery, the occasional rolling hill, deciduous trees... you can imagine. The peasant-looking houses are what makes the countryside look really French as opposed to a not-so-very-exciting-Midwest-state.
Anyway.. I'm gonna go take a nap. Later I'll walk (weather is springy and delicious!) to the center of this little town and see what's around. I'll regale you with more stories as soon as I collect them! I just wanted to let you know that I'm here safe and sound!
Love,
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