As usual, in the same baggy T-shirt and PJ's with wet hair, I made my bowl of cereal and a cup of coffee. But instead of eating it at the teeny tiny table on the teeny tiny chair in the teeny tiny kitchen, I decided to join Paul in the living room, who was watching cartoons. The room was dimly lit, it being so early and all; Paul was in his robe...and when I sat down on the couch opposite of him, it was the first time I didn't feel like a stranger. I felt content, relaxed, comfortable. I munched away at my granola while he laughed at things I didn't understand, and we talked a bit about the different kinds of cartoons from here and back home. I laughed when he didn't know what Rugrats was, and he laughed when I tried to describe it.
It's not that overnight I learned how to speak fluently and got to know them more fully, and therefore became more comfortable around the house, but more so that a combination of my broken French, hand gestures and facial expressions had finally gotten across a bit of who I am to them, since most of the time I can't explain anything very well in French. I notice it with just about everyone, with little things they do or say. Besides the above story with Paul and reading comics with Benoit, I've started to join in the American music conversation that is guaranteed to occur each night with Claire, and Anne has started using the "you're my friend not just familiar" greeting, "cou cou." The small things. Like with my host mom, she saw that I particularly enjoyed a specific dessert, so when she made it again, she offered it to me first, joking that the huge bowl was all for me. I love that kind of stuff. The dad isn't around a lot, and nearly silent at dinner, but it made me pretty happy when he told me how much he liked the book I bought the family with lots of pictures of Michigan. He even asked a little about where I live and if I had my own car.
Anyways, today was interesting. After my cartoon filled morning (which in reality didn't last more than 10 minutes) we had class 9-11, where I struggled to understand French politics in French. Afterwards we visited the wine caves of Vouvray. The walk from where the bus dropped us off took us through beautiful French country, where it seemed like every other home was built into the hills and stone and that every gate and flower you saw felt picture-worthy, it was so beautiful.
We ate our lunch in the shade of some trees on top of a hill, across from huge vineyard fields. See:
I was just mesmerized by it all. It was so different than Tours, a busy city with hardly any land available except for gardens maintained by staffs, stores every which way, statues and cathedrals and fountains oh my. You get the idea. So different, and yet still so beautiful.
So then were the cave tours, where a guide explained to us that there are 2 kilometers underground of wine storage with over 4 million bottles. We learned about what they had to do to maintain it, and then got to see the actual workers going through the cleaning and packaging process. And afterwards, some wine-tasting, where it was really more like champagne. We tried 3 different kinds, and I bought a bottle for my host family. I know my "dad" will appreciate it.
All in all, a good day. I'm ready for bed at 9:30, but I think I'll do my homework. =)
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