Your kiss, your kiss is on my list

Peur du jour: 7 January 2012- Coming out of my hidy-hole

I'm pretty sure that all of you can imagine what it's like to live with a family who doesn't speak English. If you've never thought about it, just pause a few seconds and imagine how different "home" feels when you don't have anyone with whom to speak in your mother tongue. It is not a bad experience at all, but it is tiring and it makes it harder to reach out to those you live with. Not only do you have to deal with the normal apprehension you would have when forging a new relationship but now there are language and cultural barriers. You feel like maybe you can't express what you are meaning to say. You are unsure if things that are normal and polite in your country are interpreted the same way in the new country. On top of this, the other student with whom you are living with and from whom you are taking social cues is pretty solitary and only ventures out during dinner time.

For these reasons, it has not been incredibly easy to reach out to my family. My host mother is very nice and accepting. I think she is used to having students, so she's not as strict or as traditional as many other host families here seem to be. All the same, I don't feel that I have the same relationship with her that I would have if I were getting to know an American for the first time. But that day we had a big talk in our orientation program about how important it is to really make an effort to get to know our families.

That day when I got home from our scheduled activities, I spent a few minutes talking to my host mother before going to my room to relax for a little. I wasn't in my room for long when I heard the buzzer to the apartment ring. Within seconds the sounds of children laughing and french greetings were erupting in the hallway. I mustered my courage to venture out and begin the awkward introductions.

My reward: My first bises! In Montpellier, it's three (contrary to the two in Paris). I exchanged had shared... J'ai fait les bises with the daughter of my host mother. She gave me the traditional three kisses. Then her adorable 4 year old son came up to me and I kind of stood there like an idiot and smiled at him until he said "les bises?" and I instantly understood and bent down to his level. He only gave me one (maybe it's a child thing?) and I kept going for a second. Yeah, it's a little awkward, but I think it gets better. It was, however, a French experience I had not yet had but knew that other students had because I had listened enviously to their stories of their "first bises".

Moral of the story: leave you room. Good cultural things will happen.

PS) Is this stuck in your head? Because it's stuck in mine.