tre tre confuse

So this blog is about the first day in Trois Pistoles. I must remind you that I cannot use proper punctuation with this computer so please excuse my lack of capitals and quotation marks.

Ok, so I hadnèt slept for two nights in a row and then I had to wake up at 7:30 to get to class.

Caroline and Cedric, our hosts, are our age and they own a house. A really nice house actually. Caroline always has ridiculously fantastic breakfasts for us.

Caroline drove us to school that morning because Kyla had arrived at 1:30 a.m. so we both didnt have bicicles yet. The class I was in was really easy and the teacher wasnt even speaking to us in French. So after class I went and requested to be switched. So the secretary told me to meet the director the next morning. This was all communicated in French.

Caroline picked us up and took us to get our bikes. By this time I could not think straight at all and I was sooooo tired. Caroline had showed me at 4 a.m. where the house was where I was to eat my lunch and dinner every day, but the directions didnèt really stick. So after being lost for a while as I looked for dinner - I was so tiered and hungry I thought I was going to stop in the middle of the road and cry. So I went and knocked on some ladies door and asked her where it was (luckily I had a paper with the directions) and she drove me to the place.

The place where I eat is a nursing home. So we have nice soft nursing home food every day and we have very regular bowel movements. Seriously though, even though itès not as good as what I hear every one elseès food is - itès still way better than my own cooking, so Ièm not complaining. We always have soup and a main dish and a dessert and lots of fruit juice. And not only that, the ladies that work there are not aware of the FRENCH only rule - so we quietely speak English while we are there. Plus, its fun saying

bonjour

to all the old people twice a day. They are cute and seem happy to see us.

Anyhow, by the time random French lady had driven me to the nursing home, everyone else had finished eating. Luckily the French ladies at the nursing home still fed me and the oldest one thought I was funny and gave me a big hug.

After that I was scared Id be late for the meeting at the school where we were to choose workshops. I had to walk back to the random French ladies house to get my bike and I got lost again looking for her house. Then once I got my bike I was lost for a little while because I had no idea where the school was.

I chose the outdoor "plein aire" workshop with hiking and biking and kayaking. My level of French is low enough that I'm actually supposed to be in the conversation workshop, but as long as no one is noticing, there's no way I'm going to another class all afternoon when I can be outdoors in such beautiful country side. So far no one has noticed.

Then right after that meeting we had to take a two hour exam to determine our level of French AGAIN. By this time I thought I was going to die. I actaully fell asleep three times during the exam. After the exam I had to find out how to get home. I had a paper with the directions, but then I lost it. And then I found it blowing in a field. I have no idea how I would have gotten home since I only knew that our hostess name was caroline and I didnèt know her family name. So then I rode to the nursing home and they drew a map for me so I could get home.

That night there was a corn roast at the beach, but I skipped out and went to bed. My roommates came over with some boys at 10 so I got up for a few hours to hang out.

Anyhow, I was sooo happy to be done that day - I was lost and confused all day long

The end