Baby steps

I did it. I said my first French sentence to a stranger today.

It was pretty bad.

But she knew what I was saying! And then kindly preceded to tell me that it was okay and I could speak in English.

Thank God.

I only know so many words…

All I said was, “Bonjour madame, je sui etudient ESC Dijon...and I…uhh…I’ve come to open my bank account.”

I’m sure King Louis VIII just rolled over in his grave at that terrible delivery and pronunciation…

She was the receptionist at the bank where I needed to open a French Bank account. Why on God’s green earth I need to open one only to pay 5 Euro for liability insurance I will never know. But here I am with a French bank account with no money in it.

Although, there is this program that if you apply for it (which I will) the French Government will reimburse you a percentage of what you paid for your rent at the end of the semester, and to do that you need to have a French Bank account.

So I guess there’s that.

Socialism, man…it’s an interesting thing to see in practice…

I had my first French class yesterday and it made me so excited to learn more. All I want is to be able to converse at a very basic level with my peers and shop owners etc. I’m a born conversationalist and when you take away my medium with which to communicate I tend to get a little peeved.

No one puts Baby in a corner.

I’ve also come to realize that French babies are one of the best kinds of babies out there.

They’re just s’darn CUTE.

Especially the toddlers that speak French in their squeaky little voices. I die a teeny, tiny, delightful death every time I hear them.

Admittedly, this is very creepy, but I couldn’t resist capturing this moment when 15 or-so first-graders walked by me with their teachers in little reflective neon vests:

Itty, bitty baby construction workers : )

And yes, the sun is still shining here in Dijon. And here’s the proof: