The Past Three Days

Tuesday 5/29: Elisabeth still wasn't feeling her best, so she had one of her students come over for a lesson so she wouldn't have to travel (she teaches private English lessons). The student was petrified of speaking English, and I found it hard to see why, since Elisabeth is so friendly and outgoing! Near the end of the lesson, she asked me a few questions in English about American culture so the student would have the benefit of listening to a native speaker. She told her student she could ask me questions as well, but of course the student was too shy to do so, so it ended up just being a conversation between Elisabeth and me.

I also helped gave Elisabeth some advice on a cover letter she had to write for the Sorbonne. She wants to do her Master's in teaching English, because it's hard to get as much work teaching English as she would like without having a degree in that area. That program requires a cover letter in English, and it has to be handwritten--not something we are used to in the age of word-processing. That means every time you make a small error, you have to start over, because whiteout would look very unprofessional. She had a few questions, mostly on English prepositions, that she wanted to check on to make sure that she wasn't writing in "Frenglish" (when the construction of your English sentences starts to sound more like that of French, or when you use cognates that don't actually have the same meaning).

That evening, Elisabeth's boyfriend Jonathon came over. Like Elisabeth, he has one French parent and one American parent so he speaks English as well as French, but with a very British accent. We stayed up late talking; I also got to Skype with my mom that night and assure her that yes, I was getting enough rest and yes, the Metro was safe to ride by myself at night.

Then Tiphaine called and invited me to Roland Garros: The French Open! I was in such a state of disbelief that I asked "Will I get to see them play tennis?" She laughed and said "Yeah, of course!" I arranged to meet up with her, her mom and her sister at Roland Garros the next stay, at which time we would also discuss when I would move in.

Wednesday 5/30: I woke up not having slept very well, since I was so excited about the French Open!

While I was in the shower and Elisabeth was still asleep, Jonathon had gone to the bakery and gotten fresh "croissants au chocolat," "croissants aux raisins secs" and something like an apple turnover (can't remember the term right now). He had also gotten orange juice at the grocery store and had coffee ready for us too! He made coffee the French way, meaning extremely strong, which I loved.

I took the Metro into Paris to wait for Tiphaine to call and make a second attempt to buy a pass for the Bibliotheque Sainte Genvieve. There was a line outside so I went and bought a sandwich while waiting for the line to diminish. I also found a good place to eat: the courtyard of the Sorbonne Faculte de Droit (Law School). The courtyard is full of statues. Many students were eating their lunches there. I felt like such an intellectual eating there!

Then I went into the Eglise Saint-Etienne-du-Mont across from the Pantheon to have a look inside. Tons of students from the Sorbonne were sitting on the steps eating lunch but of course nobody was inside the church. I went inside, where there is a side chapel with Saint Genevieve's relics. There was also a picture of John Paul II with a bunch of young people, because during World Youth Day in 1997, he led a mass at this church.

While I was venerating the relics and reading the Litany of Saint Genevieve, Tiphaine called and said she would meet me outside Roland Garros in half an hour, so I headed over there. I met her mother, Yseult and her younger sister, Marina (21 years old).

When we entered, Marion Bartoli (French) was playing Petra Martic (Croatian). Tennis is one of the few sports that I both understand and enjoy watching. Never having seen more than high school tennis matches in St. Paul public schools, it was amazing to see the professionals play! Martic beat Bartoli; of course, most people there were cheering for Bartoli. I asked Tiphaine why the French player had an Italian last name, and she said it was because Bartoli was from Corsica. She was very impressed that I knew Napoleon was from Corsica!

Professional tennis matches seem like such distinguished events; I half expected to see some royalty (such as Prince William or the Duchess of Cambridge) there. The rowdiest it would get was when one portion of the spectators would sing "ba-ba-ba-ba-ba" and another portion would respond "Ole!"

The match we saw was between Joel Wilfried Tsonga (French) and Cedric-Marcel Stebe (German). During this match, we were surrounded by Germans. They all looked like they were from Minnesota so I felt right at home. Unfortunately, two sets into this match, it got rained out.

Tiphaine's iphone had broken that day, which she was stressed about because since she works in the media, she needs it in order to do her work. So she turned to me and, trying out her English, said "I am in the big shit." I corrected her and said, "No, you need to say deep shit." She wanted to know why she couldn't say "big" and I explained that it was just one of those many idiomatic expressions that doesn't translate word for word between the two languages. After getting her to say "deep" instead of "big" I had to get her to drop the definite article, since she kept saying "I am in the deep shit." So once I had gotten her on the right track with the grammar and vocabulary of that expression, then she started to say "I am in the deep ship" and then I had to explain that there's a big difference between "ship" and "shit," that "shit" = "merde," "ship" = "bateau," etc. We're obviously going to need to fine-tune that expression during my stay here! :)

Thursday 5/31 I moved in to the apartment with Tiphaine, her mother and her younger sister. The building was built in 1860 and has been in the family since her great-great grandmother. Her mother has lived in this building for 50 years, and because it goes back so far, many of the people in the building are their distant cousins. Actually, I met her grandfather when I was trying to figure out which apartment was theirs. He's an older man (90 years old), losing his hearing and slightly confused. I was shouting as loudly and clearly as I could that I was looking for Tiphaine Desmedt and that I was subletting from her, and he kept saying "Mais ca c'est ma petite fille...De quoi il s'agit??" ("But that's my granddaughter...what is all this about?") Finally, Marina (Tiphaine's little sister) came down and assured her grandfather that it was alright and that everything had been taken care of.

The apartment is lovely, especially the living room. I'll be posting some pics later, probably on facebook.

Another girl walked in yesterday and introduced herself as another sister, Aurore (26 years old); it turns out there are actually four sisters (not two, as I had originally thought). The oldest is 31, married with two children and lives outside of Paris.

The mother, Yseult, works at L'Eglise de la Trinite (Trinity Church) in the 9th arrondissement. It is a very active Catholic parish, run by priests from the Emmanuel Community (the Emmanuel Community is a worldwide Roman Catholic community of priests and laypeople devoted to evangelization). Yseult is the priest's secretary. She's an incredibly sweet lady. Her brother married a French woman so her nephews are American and she is very fond of them. She has offered to bring me to work with her next week when I have time so that I can meet some of her co-workers.

This morning I saw Tiphaine for a few hours on her break from working at Roland Garros. She will be insanely busy until that is over, but I am looking forward to hanging out with her more in the future. I think I mentioned in a previous entry that we are nine days apart in age--oh, and she, Marina and I are all left-handed (this came up during the Tsonga-Tsebe match because Tsebe's a lefty, which can be an advantage in tennis).

This afternoon, I visited the Musee D'Orsay...but I'll save that for another entry.

Bonne nuit!