Dear Reader,
Today was my last day in St. Laurent du Var. Those were the shortest 4 weeks of my life. Saying goodbye to many of my group members for the last time was sad but I was soon cheered up by my host family when we exchanged gifts. The two oldest siblings weren't here to open their presents but Lucie went on and on about her HelloKitty watch. She had never heard of jacks so I taught her how to play and I ended up playing jacks with her for 2 hours... 2 whole hours... Corrine (my host mom) loved the Kansas City BBQ spices but was really confused when she saw the BBQ sause. I'm still not quite sure why. My French family gave me lavender pouches with a lavender colored teddy bear, a book written in French with the English translation on the neighboring page, and French chocolates (which I do not plan on sharing with anyone, in case you were wondering). Grace, my roommate, gave me a necklace with a hand carved glass dog on it. Why? Because I was supposedly born in the year of the dog (which explains a lot in terms of my unusual obsession with dogs). Though the French customs are slightly different than American ones, it brings me comfort to know that dogs are the same in both countries: when I go after them with my arms extended for a hug, both French and American dogs run away.
Naturally, being me, I have an embarrassing story. Stating the obvious: I am clumsy. I constantly drop things, trip over my own feet, and get injured in the lamest ways. I had SO MANY clumsy moments during my time with my host family that I actually had to look up the word for clumsy in French so I could explain to the family why their bowl was broken, why I randomly fell from time to time, and why I am so bad at walking down the stairs. This last week, whenever I had a clumsy moment, I wouldn't even have to say anything. My host parents would simply to at each other, look at me, and in unison say "clumsy" in French.
I am looking forward to Paris tomorrow and will write again whenever I can. Caio Caio!
-Elizabeth
