Day 1- sensory overload

Yesterday was a little overwhelming to say the least, but it was hard to stress with all the beautiful things constantly invading my view. One of my first glances of France out the window of my plane was an epic view of Paris in all it's massive glory covered in sunrise fog complete with the Eiffel Tower. The CDG airport was not nearly as much of a maze as I thought it would be, but I immediately realized my French is BAD. Every one was nice, however, and I managed not to get lost. I found the train ride pretty pleasing as well, excepting the fact that the only information for stops was presented by a very quiet, fast speaking French announcement. The scenery by my window was gorgeous, but I barely got off at the right stop. A fair trade off. I wasn't sure what to expect at the train station, but I certainly didn't think I'd be meeting my host mother, Madame Vogel, and housemate right then and there. I struggled to introduce myself, had no way to express my happiness except through a smile. I can imagine that in all my plane ride/ train ride glory I looked about the way I felt- disgusting, smelly, zombie-esque. The day was far from over. Mme Vogel drove us back home where I had time to put down my bags and was shown the rooms. The place is adorable, and I can't help but mention how Mme Vogel reminds me of my granny, maybe because of her big brown eyes, but her home in some ways also looks similar. I guess the standard old lady house translates. I felt incessantly stupid at my ability to barely comprehend her. Speaking was even sadder, the majority of what I said yesterday was "oui". My longest sentence was probably uttered at dinner, when Mme and her daughter asked me if I liked to dance, I replied "oui, mais je danse mal." ( yes, but I dance bad.) Mme Vogel walked me and my dazzled house mate around Aix, which I remember in a haze of old buildings and winding streets. We returned home where I started unpacking, but ended up falling violently asleep in plank-form on my bed. And then it was time for my French dinner. We started with appetizers, bread and crackers with a brown paste, which sounds sketchy, but it was delicious, it was all delicious. Pistachios and, of course, wine and talk. For dinner we had chicken with sauce and a cooked vegetable dish, and bread. After that we had salad. And then we had cheese. Me and my room mate were stuffed and as exhausted as we were, falling into deep comas. When our host offered us ice cream we must've given her sad eyes because she laughed and sent us to bed.

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