Color me Humbled

Well, I've arrived in France. I'm currently staying in Evreux to the West of Paris with my two friends Arnaud and Geoffrey (left to right). They have a charming flat on the edge of the city.

Not saying they aren't cute together, but the real winners of the Cute Contest are Arnaud's two dogs, Gamet and Copine (sp?).

I dare you to tell them apart. They look exactly alike, and both have a propensity for climbing on furniture/people/each other.

I kid you not, as I write this, Copine is sprawled across my lap, and Gamet is resting his head on my right arm . I haven't had this much action in months (I'm so alone...JK) ! 

Besides the dogs, my constant search for housing, and the bizarre feeling that I am somehow Geoffrey and Arnaud's child every time they leave for work, I've been getting along fine. 

One realization I've recently made is how humbling it is to live in another country. Sure, there's the appreciation of another culture, and the challenge of assimilation, but what I'm talking about hits a little closer to home. 

Studying a language abroad teaches you what it's like to be stupid. Like, really, really dumb. Day-in and day-out, you will invoke looks of pity from bus drivers, waitresses, bank tellers, and even close friends, as you mix your tenses, swap your verbs, and stumble your way through a language that seemed a lot easier in the classroom. 

At first I fought it. I said to myself, They just don't get it. I'm making perfect sense to myself. I got a 4 on AP French! But now I've learned to wallow in it. People meet me, and their first impression is a mix between "awww, that's cute" and "where's your mother?" And I'm OK with it. Yesterday I tried saying that I enjoy working out (this is a lie--I was under pressure) and instead I suggested to my table mates that I enjoy exorcising myself (like, of ghosts). This character I've created through linguistic foibles is a complex one. For instance, I cry when it's cloudy out, and yet, the idea of eating dinner makes me sexually excited. I like to keep everyone on their toes.

I've grown to find this mentality somewhat liberating. There's no pressure to be smart or witty. There's simply a surprised appreciation when something cogent comes out of my mouth. I've embraced my inner (French) child. But now I've got to go, because my dads just got back from work. I wonder what kind of cartoons are on?