Anybody I had talked to before going abroad said that staying in a homestay is better than anything. Living in a French home, talking to French people, eating French food (some of which is interesting, to be explained later,) and conversing in French- it's complete immersion. But, as my mom says every single time she Skypes me, 'as long as you're having fun everything is fine.' And that's what has been had.
When we first arrived, me and my new roommate found ourselves in our own little bachelor pad behind the main house, complete with everything a young hip pair of dudes would need; microwave, shower, a lumpy-but-still-somehow-comfortable futon couch, and an extra mattress. Then, there's the family.
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| Ma Chambre/My Room |
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| La Rue/Our Street |
Madame et Monsier Blache, who had pretty much been on vacation all summer until the day they came to pick us up. Dinner is always the big meeting time of the day. Every night, at just the right time (7-8, dinner o'clock for the French) , Madame Blache opens the back window in the kitchen and hollers "Les Garçons!" (tr: Boys!) signaling for us to eat. This involves the five of us, the Blaches, me, Max, and Christine sitting under the trees in their perfectly sized front yard eating a meal of several small courses; salad or some other raw vegetable dish, the main dish, cheese, fruit, or yogurt.
Of course being immersed in another culture means seeing all the parts of it, including the special foods that are "specialties"of wherever our pallets are taking us. Some of the less appetizing things we've seen include; head cheese, blood sausage, squid tart,
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