Spending april in France
Since I got to the airport in Nice (south of France), a lot of people were waiting with the usual sheets in their hands. Some of the sheets were, of course, in French: "Je cherche monsieur Boulot" or "Ici c'est madame Debrillet qui attend les partenaires commerciaux britanniques", but the most were in English. Me and my Romanian high-school colleagues were ready to start a tremendous trip to southern France. Personally, I was very interested in observing French people's faces, habits and their manner of speaking (I was in the 11th grade). I think that was a very important element which determined me to choose Sociology College, two years later.
Our group was divided in small groups formed by 2 members and we were led to some French families in order to spend a week there. Eventually, me and my colleague, Andrei B. saw a man smiling, while he showed us a sheet where our names were written. I told him when I saw my name there: "Oui, voila! C'est moi et il est mon collegue". Monsieur B. (the host) smiled again and told us to follow him. Me and Andrei were so astonished to see that he has a new red Ferrari and he was listening to a typical French commercial music.
After 40 minutes of driving "bouchon-a-bouchon" (as monsieur B. used to say), we arrived at their house, where we met his wife, madame B., who showed us our room. She has prepared our lunch immediately, usually formed by polenta, meat or cereals with milk, or green peas with fish.
Before arriving to school next day at 9 AM, we had breakfast with a lot of intimacy, maybe because it is usually too early for madame B. to wake up at this time. However, she put us some hot coffee and separately hot milk and a "croissant avec du chocolat". Sincerely, I still miss that taste. School was also very interesting, with an interacting manner. There were a lot of people, especially from Italy, Spain, Germany, Norway and Portugal, all of them being ranked according to a certain French level. Some of them were alone, without any colleague and they were simply using their mobile phones. I found out a lot of information about the classes there. Most of them told me not to worry about my teacher, because she is a very intelligent and charismatic person. So she was!
(Maybe it is just a Romanian habit to ask someone if a teacher is good or bad)
Her charisma and her positive attitude towards literature determined me (at the final of the week) to make her a little present: the book entitled "Ne tirez pas sur l'oiseau moqueur", translated "To kill a mockingbird". That bookshop in Antibes was very interesting, composed of two floors and a basement, all of them full of books. First of all, I thought that it is only me who appreciated a sincere attitude, but when we returned to Bârlad (Romania) and presented this experience in our high school, my travel colleagues mentioned that our teacher was great (compared to the other teachers, who were not mentioned at all).
At least interesting was my "shopping experience" in the south of France (Antibes, Cannes, Nice). All the sellers were smiling when someone joined their shops and always gave a piece of advice when it was asked. For example, at that moment, the birthday of my ex-girlfriend was near, so I decided to give her a "French present". I found a nice-colored lotion with a little pillow and, of course, a French perfume. When the seller saw my products, she asked me if all of them are for my girlfriend and also if she lives in France or abroad. As all the natives talking to strangers, she observed that I am not French, but I was so happy at that moment because she told me that I speak French very well. I have also observed a curiosity that I have met at Romanian sellers, often interested in your personal life and relationship. She wished me good luck with my girlfriend, but she wanted me to promise her that I will visit her shop again.
The first problem appeared when I came back home. We mistook the way to home and, when we finally reached it, we were roasted by madame B., who told us that she phoned to the school in order to seek us (we were late for 15 minutes). I was very worried and I assured her that it will never happen again. I thought that a 15 minutes late won't be a problem for someone, because it usually is not a problem in Romania. And it was not a quarrel at all, compared to two of my colleagues, who started a big scandal with their host. Everything started when my colleagues asked for food, and they got a very big amount so that they could not finish it. Immediately, they started to scream at each other and the host was so angry that he broke like two or three plates.
Eventually, we took the train to Monaco and had a wonderful time admiring the great mountain view. There were a lot of yachts and ships, apparently 'deluging' the entire Mediterranean Sea. Another issue appeared when we wanted to return to Antibes. We found out that it is a bus strike (often happens to the means of transport in France), so we had to wait more than an hour to catch a bus to Antibes. Of course, we were late again, because it was like 5:30 PM and we had to be home at 5 PM. I have already imagined madame B. calling to school and to police, but I have also told to myself that it should not be a problem if she calls to school, because she will find out about the strike.
But it was not like that! When we entered the house with a 40 minutes late, I started to apologize, explaining that it was a bus strike (also shown on TV), so the entire group was late. Well, she simply answered "No problem, Dragoș. Today is weekend so you can be late". Of course, me and Andrei were so satisfied with that answer. Maybe it also was a little compromise from madame B., knowing that next day we had to return to Nice airport. It was a very good trip, but unfortunately too short. Two months later, I found out that it was a terrorist attack at Nice airport...
Dragoș Obreja
Our group was divided in small groups formed by 2 members and we were led to some French families in order to spend a week there. Eventually, me and my colleague, Andrei B. saw a man smiling, while he showed us a sheet where our names were written. I told him when I saw my name there: "Oui, voila! C'est moi et il est mon collegue". Monsieur B. (the host) smiled again and told us to follow him. Me and Andrei were so astonished to see that he has a new red Ferrari and he was listening to a typical French commercial music.
After 40 minutes of driving "bouchon-a-bouchon" (as monsieur B. used to say), we arrived at their house, where we met his wife, madame B., who showed us our room. She has prepared our lunch immediately, usually formed by polenta, meat or cereals with milk, or green peas with fish.
Before arriving to school next day at 9 AM, we had breakfast with a lot of intimacy, maybe because it is usually too early for madame B. to wake up at this time. However, she put us some hot coffee and separately hot milk and a "croissant avec du chocolat". Sincerely, I still miss that taste. School was also very interesting, with an interacting manner. There were a lot of people, especially from Italy, Spain, Germany, Norway and Portugal, all of them being ranked according to a certain French level. Some of them were alone, without any colleague and they were simply using their mobile phones. I found out a lot of information about the classes there. Most of them told me not to worry about my teacher, because she is a very intelligent and charismatic person. So she was!
(Maybe it is just a Romanian habit to ask someone if a teacher is good or bad)
Her charisma and her positive attitude towards literature determined me (at the final of the week) to make her a little present: the book entitled "Ne tirez pas sur l'oiseau moqueur", translated "To kill a mockingbird". That bookshop in Antibes was very interesting, composed of two floors and a basement, all of them full of books. First of all, I thought that it is only me who appreciated a sincere attitude, but when we returned to Bârlad (Romania) and presented this experience in our high school, my travel colleagues mentioned that our teacher was great (compared to the other teachers, who were not mentioned at all).
At least interesting was my "shopping experience" in the south of France (Antibes, Cannes, Nice). All the sellers were smiling when someone joined their shops and always gave a piece of advice when it was asked. For example, at that moment, the birthday of my ex-girlfriend was near, so I decided to give her a "French present". I found a nice-colored lotion with a little pillow and, of course, a French perfume. When the seller saw my products, she asked me if all of them are for my girlfriend and also if she lives in France or abroad. As all the natives talking to strangers, she observed that I am not French, but I was so happy at that moment because she told me that I speak French very well. I have also observed a curiosity that I have met at Romanian sellers, often interested in your personal life and relationship. She wished me good luck with my girlfriend, but she wanted me to promise her that I will visit her shop again.
The first problem appeared when I came back home. We mistook the way to home and, when we finally reached it, we were roasted by madame B., who told us that she phoned to the school in order to seek us (we were late for 15 minutes). I was very worried and I assured her that it will never happen again. I thought that a 15 minutes late won't be a problem for someone, because it usually is not a problem in Romania. And it was not a quarrel at all, compared to two of my colleagues, who started a big scandal with their host. Everything started when my colleagues asked for food, and they got a very big amount so that they could not finish it. Immediately, they started to scream at each other and the host was so angry that he broke like two or three plates.
Eventually, we took the train to Monaco and had a wonderful time admiring the great mountain view. There were a lot of yachts and ships, apparently 'deluging' the entire Mediterranean Sea. Another issue appeared when we wanted to return to Antibes. We found out that it is a bus strike (often happens to the means of transport in France), so we had to wait more than an hour to catch a bus to Antibes. Of course, we were late again, because it was like 5:30 PM and we had to be home at 5 PM. I have already imagined madame B. calling to school and to police, but I have also told to myself that it should not be a problem if she calls to school, because she will find out about the strike.
But it was not like that! When we entered the house with a 40 minutes late, I started to apologize, explaining that it was a bus strike (also shown on TV), so the entire group was late. Well, she simply answered "No problem, Dragoș. Today is weekend so you can be late". Of course, me and Andrei were so satisfied with that answer. Maybe it also was a little compromise from madame B., knowing that next day we had to return to Nice airport. It was a very good trip, but unfortunately too short. Two months later, I found out that it was a terrorist attack at Nice airport...
Dragoș Obreja
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