I see London, I see France

Off to Bonneville today following a fabulous weekend of feasting and Real Housewives marathons in Boston with Patty and Laura! I'm a mere three hours early for my flight and lounging around at the Boston airport. After carefully analyzing my food options, I opted to forgo the requisite last American meal at McDonald's for a semi-soggy Asian salad. Aiming slightly higher on the haute cuisine scale, I searched for a delectable dessert but was forced to substitute fro-yo for a ridiculously overpriced Starbucks frappachino. Yet another great choice on my part - ordering coffee before boarding a redeye...two glasses of wine on the plane it is. My gate was changed, which I didn’t realize because I was busy reading about Kourtney Kardashian's difficulties with baby daddy Scott, so I missed the new assignment. Luckily I still have two hours to kill, so I wandered to what I thought was the new gate and befriended the couple listening to Hindi radio without speakers next to me to discuss our gate assignment. I figured they would be fellow friendly travelers who also happen to be very punctual. I started jabbering about Heathrow before realizing they didn't speak English and then I switched to signing out our new gate assignment, which made no sense to neither my new friends nor me. They have now titled their iPad away from me. It’s both thrilling and terrifying to have a one-way ticket to Europe. I can’t wait to get to France and see Bonneville, to meet my fellow assistants, teachers, and students, to eat French food and actually learn how to drink wine properly, to speak French all the time, to go Greek island hopping and make hostel friends, and to learn more about myself as I assimilate into a new culture but will I be an American girl in Bonneville or will I be une fille americaine a Bonneville?

Would you please speak tomorrow?

At 16, I begged my parents to send me to France and, sick of my whining, they agreed. Our French family friends arranged an exchange between their goddaughter and me – after two years of high school French and eating lots of Nutella, I was off to Paris for a month! Apprehensive about my lack of French, I practiced speaking aloud on the plane over…to myself. Having done countless self presentations in French class, I could almost introduce myself comme des françaises de souche and was an expert at saying “Je ne comprends pas” (I don’t understand). Pessimist that I am, I decided my key line should be, “Pouvez-vous parlez plus lentement?” or, “Could you please speak more slowly?” I rattled it off to myself millions of times on the plane, in between practicing how to say random vegetables. I deboarded the plane in what is a humiliating outfit to remember – a teeshirt that seriously said “Ooh la la” and had a picture of the Eiffel Tower and a poodle, a pair of walking shorts with extra pleats, and extraordinarily pointy red and pink shoes, which I thought were to die for because I had bought them in Paris. There was a reason they were on sale. Unaware of the multitude of fashion faux pas I was committing, I found my French family. I immediately had no idea what they were saying. I had been eagerly anticipating the opportunity to use my now-perfected line and I had a chance within 30 secords of my arrival! I blurted out, “Pouvez-vous parler plus lendemain?” and was met with confused stares. The poor Barbettes had to explain to me, in what was basically sign language, that I had asked them to speak tomorrow, not to speak more slowly. Despite hours of me looking like a nutcase on the plane to practice my one line, I had replaced the t with a d. Luckily, after my first faux pas in French, I had an amazing exchange, learning lots of French slang, how to dress properly, and how to eat a vat of Nutella in three days, and became obsessed with somehow becoming French.