Young at heart

So just before lunch, I was walking home from my morning classes thinking about my only French "friends" here.

That's when I realized, all my friends are children! Haha, seriously though, I do have American and English friends my age, but the only French people I've had over to my house are my students. Hmmm, am I disillusioned here?? :) Then yesterday I was at the gym where I ran into my American friend Sarah, she had a little girl tagging along and doing exercises with her. When Sarah left to go home, the little girl befriended me and started doing my exercises, asking all kinds of questions about myself. I think being from California makes me really exciting and interesting, even if I'm not that great back in the States... hehe.

My first lesson today consisted of adjectives and opposites, so one exercise was to describe people in the class. Using words they already knew, my students described me as, "alive, tall, THIN!!!!, nice, and good." Wow that did a lot for the self-esteem. And even though I do yell at them all the time, they still think I'm super nice! I imagine it's like chastizing a little puppy or something -- they're too resilient to let it affect their feelings towards me. And I do have a handful of students in every class that clings to me when I enter/exit the classroom, telling me how pretty/cool my jewelry is, how great my perfume smells, etc. But the cutest part is when I arrive at school, all the students in the playground run to me and demand the French bisous -- a kiss on both cheeks. Adorable!

Yet, as I was thinking this, I unlocked the front door to my building and the man who drives me to school every morning was checking his mail and asking about my schedule. I'm waiting for the elevator, when he invites me into his house for tea or coffee with him and his wife, both who are around 68-70ish. I was a bit hesitant to accept, but then I thought, what the hell??? I have nothing to do for the next three hours and this will give me a good chance to practice my French.

Long story short, I ended up staying my entire lunch break! We discussed American politics, world travel and Madagascar, the birthplace of his wife. So we were a very international group comparing three styles of living.

Oh yeah, I also helped cook! We had what he called an "exotic French lunch," complete with stewed lamb, potatoes and Mediterranean olives in olive oil along with a spicy salad of mango, shallots, peppers -- chili peppers and no, they were not red hot, carrots and other exciting spices that made my nose run for hours. For desert I had a clementine orange and he made the three of us traditional thimble-sized cups of Arabic coffee, but with a whole crapload of whipped cream on top. Man it was good, and I'm not usually much of a fan of the small, but very strong French coffees.

Then he drove me back to school for my classes. One was cancelled because the teacher was involved in an accident driving back in the rain. I hope he's alright!!!

But Guy told me I could come back whenever I want for a good, homecooked meal. He wants me to tell my dad that he's taking good care of me in his absence, though he's more of a grandfather-esque figure right now. Honestly though, I'd love to go back because watching him cook was unlike anything I've ever seen. He has a mortar to grind fresh ginger and basically makes his own seasonings. He showed me how to bottle olives in oil with bay leaves and lavendar to make the taste that much better and more Provençal.

Maybe I'll use some of his tricks on my own time. That, or I could always come back for another lunch, since they enjoyed my presence so much. (And it was mutual!)